#the read my mind thing was anxiety inducing

[monoxidecahedron]

SOMETHING STRANGE is in the heart. song by dee-lusions

[riizebabie444]

𝙮𝙤𝙪𝙧 𝙛𝙞𝙧𝙨𝙩 𝙩𝙞𝙢𝙚 (18+ reading) 💋

ʚɞ ─── hello and welcome to my reading which will tell you how your first time will be. this is an 18+ reading so please only read if you are over the age of 18.

ʚɞ ─── this is specifically for those who have not had any sexual encounters yet (aka the virgins <3) but this reading is open to any interpretation, such as your first time with your future spouse. but please keep in mind who this pac is meant for as it may not resonate otherwise.

ʚɞ ─── be sure to check out my other readings and don’t forget to share and give feedback. disclaimer: all readings done are for entertainment only. please do not use my tarot readings as a replacement for legitimate advice.

ʚɞ ─── picking your pile: take a deep breath and allow your soul to centre itself. when you feel your mind balanced and cleared, allow yourself to be drawn to an image. your eyes may gravitate to one, or you may close your eyes and feel which image is calling out.

ʚɞ ─── masterlist. paid readings. exchange rules.

donations. games/events. feedback.

𝙥𝙞𝙡𝙚 𝙤𝙣𝙚 💋

cards drawn: the moon, the stars, king of wands, five of wands

i definitely see this being really sweet and dreamy. i am certain this will take place at night when the moon and the stars will be out. it might happen after a romantic night of stargazing and for a small number of you, it could actually be done out in the open under the night sky. for the persons reading this, i get the feminine energy from you and your partner will be the masculine (but please switch if you feel the need to) and it really feels like this masculine will take good care of you.

the way he is treating you, caring for you, attending to every detail, it will make you feel so relaxed and almost force you into a strong feminine energy. you will feel so soft and gentle and relaxed, ready to take in all of the care and affection. i see some of you may have been going through a difficult time, or have not been used to receiving this kind of attention. so it will be a new feeling for you, almost a shock to the system but you will embrace it well.

i also see for some that you may not go all the way but it will be your first time doing anything sexual. your person will surprise you by not letting you lift a finger. say if he eats you out or fingers you and you want to repay him after you've come to your senses again, he won't allow it (in a good way). he would rather you take a nap or snuggle up and watch a movie because he knows this first for you is so precious. it could also be that he pushed your limits a little bit, or maybe from reading your reactions he thinks you came really hard and he understands how tiring it can be for your first time. so he wants you to rest.

i definitely see oral. your person will go down on you. for those who will go all the way, oral as foreplay but i also see the mistake of going straight in. and it might be difficult getting it in for the first time if you get my drift. it might feel a little frustrating and anxiety-inducing, even painful when it's going inside of you. and i think at this point you will take the lead and be vocal about the things you are feeling so that you can both work together to make it as painless as possible. oh i think for pile one, if your person is a guy, it is possible he will have a big ding-dong and that is why it is more tricky and painful than you expected. but still, he is so respectful and attentive making it the best possible experience for you.

i honestly see pile one that you may even finish early or stop because of discomfort, for those who intended to go all the way. a number of you may have a really good time and finish perfectly. but i see clearly that it won't end up going all the way. you might stop because of the pain and decide to try again another time (it will be soon tho. like anywhere from the next day to the next week. i don't think any later than a week after). more than anything, it will be a learning experience and you will both spend the time between the attempts to figure out how to make it work more positively.

but the thing is, even if you finish early, it won't be a bad thing. you or they might feel a bit insecure about not being able to fulfil expectations but at the same time, this didn't happen without an emotional connection between the two of you so you understand and respect the decision, and cuddle with each other, either continue with foreplay or go straight to aftercare, take a bubble bath and possible even discuss the situation and how to handle it better. and i see you guys being confident again after you have discussed it. and if you don't go all the way, i see them trying harder and more often to make you feel good in other ways, like with oral, to satisfy you without having sex. this feels like a good pile, pile ones. even if there are mishaps, it will still end really well.

𝙥𝙞𝙡𝙚 𝙩𝙬𝙤 💋

cards drawn: king of cups, ace of wands, death, the world

oh definitely the creation of a strong bond here, deepening something that was already there or possibly awakening the deep connection. i see you and your person being so patient with each other. you will get an emotional rise out of this, possibly more than the physical. i'm going to sound so crude saying this but i can't think of a better way to say this but with the ace of wands, it is literally a glowing hand wrapped around a stick...well, whoever has the stick will think the one working on it is doing some sort of magic with their hand. it feels so unreal to them, or it could be you. i'm certain for most that your first time will be hand stuff or will start that way. and could possibly move onto oral but i don't see that for all of you.

okay i'm thinking you guys who chose pile two are the one with the magic hand. it looks like your first time doing anything sexual, but you will make the first move. if this doesn't sound like you, i understand. but i also believe you will be so excited and surprise yourself with how motivated you are to do it. you were thinking about it for a long time and your person couldn't say no. i see for some of you it could be a "kinky lesson" kind of thing, where the person is teaching you how to do it. even showing you with their own hands. if your person is a woman, i see them using their hands to spread their flower open and you will literally gulp omg. it feels very sensual but also playful and kinky. you will both enjoy and feel turned on by the "lesson" scenario. even if you already know what you're doing, the idea that they are teaching you or vice versa is a big turn on especially because it's your first time. it will also ease your worries about not doing it well.

so the above was more focused on your first sexual experience altogether but i'm going to now focus on your first time having sex. it will be a life changing thing and i don't mean the sex will be so good it changes the trajectory of your life (i mean it will...but anyway) but i mean it will happen as you are entering a new chapter. for example, committing to your person. it could be marriage for some but for most i think it could be before marriage. or if you decide this person is your forever person, so you're entering a new phase of your life where everything doesn't just revolve around you anymore and you need to always consider your person. you could be moving in with them. it will feel like a big change. even a new job, new home, new city. you are transforming in some or every way when this happens. oh i got a message that for some of you, if you plan to wait for marriage, you may decide at that time to do it before marriage. you will surprise yourself with this decision but you will be happy with your decision, i'm seeing.

haha the death card could literally mean you feeling like you died and came back to life when climaxing. like it feels so good you literally leave this world. i see you really letting go. perhaps you were feeling so nervous leading up to this, and when it happened you surprised yourself with how loose and into it you were. it could also be letting go of expectations surrounding sex. perhaps you think about sex a lot, or read or watch it often so you have certain thoughts and expectations about sex. but when you finally experience it, you will realise sex doesn't have a frame of reference. you'll think it's such a wild and unique experience both emotionally and physically that you can't even compare it to anything you previously thought.

for the most part, it will be enjoyable. tricky at first for some but in the end, enjoyable. some of you may find it so incredible while others may feel a little underwhelmed, but will still think it was really good. i see also that some of you may have been expecting your person to be better at sex than how they performed. maybe it's because it's your first time so they're holding back, or they are just not as good as you thought rip. but i'm getting the message that the first time is not supposed to be the best time. the best sex comes with experience and comfort so maybe your expectations for your first time were quite high. i do see most of you reaching an orgasm. for some it will be insanely amazing whilst others may be expecting more. i feel like it's a mixed pile here i do apologise for not being clearer.

oh i do get the message also for those of you who are physically underwhelmed, fret not because as i said when i opened this pile's reading, your first time is more about deepening an emotional and sacred bond with your partner rather than having an out of this world physical experience. you will absolutely cherish the time with your partner. aah you will definitely have that afterglow. feeling so whole and wholesome, fulfilled, completed after sharing yourself with a special person. there is the theme of transformation coming up again. your first time will be a spiritual and emotional journey, achieving emotional fulfilment with your partner and the joy you feel physically will only make the emotions stronger.

𝙥𝙞𝙡𝙚 𝙩𝙝𝙧𝙚𝙚 💋

cards drawn: three of pentacles rv, the hermit, king of pentacles rv, queen of wands

i also saw the hanged man and four of wands whilst shuffling and although they did not come out, i feel it is relevant to say that the majority of you who chose pile three will have your first time on your wedding night. if you are saving yourself for marriage, then this is your confirmation. it will happen in a number of ways: for most of you, on your wedding night and for some it could happen coming up to the wedding (i'm seeing some could spontaneously elope prior to the wedding and have your first time then), or it could be any time after they have proposed as you are certain you will be married and are too excited to wait. but for most it will be the wedding night.

i also see that some will perform non-sex sexual acts before marriage, like foreplay, oral, with hands etc. but when you go all the way, it will be on the wedding night. you may be feeling some disharmony in a way but not with your person. you may have had a stressful wedding day or some family members weren't treating you right on your special day, perhaps some friend drama. whatever it may be, you will be feeling a little disheartened. you wanted this day to be so perfect and special but someone you love and trust ruined it for you. but don't worry, the whole day won't be ruined. and your person will do their best to help you think about the better things. and i believe there will be a support circle around you, those who will defend you and try to make your day as best as it can be. even if it is not something like a wedding day, i think people will notice the way you are mistreated and try to make you smile.

no one will try harder than your person, however. i think you can really just let down your walls and be yourself with your person and they noticed you were having your walls up due to the stress and disharmony caused earlier. so when you guys are alone at last, it will feel like there is an elephant in the room but neither of you are addressing it. they would rather you just relax and forget about everything, truly appreciating your first time and not allowing any drama from the outside world to ruin your night. oh, let me tell you, they will make you forget it completely! this feels like a soul connection, when you do it for the first time you it will be like a dance between the souls more than the bodies haha. i believe it will also make you connect with yourself. all the new feelings, sensations are weird yet enticing. it's like you passing the first level of a game and simultaneously unlocking the next hundred levels at once. you know you should take it in small steps but it will unleash so much excitement to explore your body and sexual experiences with your person to the highest level. you may even rush your partner but they will tell you to slow down as they want you both to cherish it.

and you will definitely want to do it nonstop after your first time. like the morning after, the evening after, several times a day for the next five months straight haha im really just seeing so much passion and excitement and curiosity surrounding sex, and it all stems from that first night. okay let me get to the actual night itself, your person is going to make you feel like you're sitting on a throne. heck, they might even make you sit on their face because they want to be your throne. i do see foreplay happening, taking it slow, teasing. i think you will be quite nervous though. and your person will definitely notice. i'm seeing some of you may even be panicky. possibly even insecure for some of you. and i also see your person being a little bit insecure about how well they can perform and how comfortable they can make you feel. they are just so concerned about you and they end up overthinking and feeling insecure :( so they put their all into the moment.

haha i see if you have pets, there's a good chance they might climb or jump onto the bed while you're doing it and it will be a cute, funny moment that will bring you both back to earth, you'll feel all the stress and anxiety fade away and you can try again. the energy will be much lighter this time. i do see the first time being successful, it will happen relatively smoothly for most of you. i think more than physical pain, you will be experiencing mental anguish. and that does sound quite severe but for some it will be little, others it will be more. perhaps if you are insecure about your looks or body or how certain body parts look, you may feel insecure about them and act stubbornly. say you want to wear a shirt to cover yourself which might upset your person because they will think you don't trust them.

like i said earlier though, your person will not pressure you. communication is important but they don't want to ruin your first time, it's likely it will be their first also or that they don't have a lot of experience. so they focus on doing the deed itself and enjoying it, exploring each others bodies and making the most out of it. the heavy emotions caused by earlier events will be felt by the two of you but ignored for the sake of creating a memorable night together. and all the talking and communication comes later on. i think you may wish you didn't feel so many burdens and insecurities for your first time but you will also not want it any other way because your person was so affectionate and caring. i see it being quite slow overall, very instinctual. a lot of focus on the physical to distract you from the emotional.

𝙥𝙞𝙡𝙚 𝙛𝙤𝙪𝙧 💋

cards drawn: the sun rv, the lovers, temperance rv, three of wands

the sun might literally be setting while you're doing it, or possibly rising but i see the sun going down. some of you may even plan for it to happen that way. this will definitely be done with the love of your life, as i'm seeing. for a number of you it will be on your wedding night but this is not for everyone. i think a lot of you will actually do it before or after. it feels so sweet. like you just know you are doing it with the right person. i see you guys being the more feminine but please take it how it resonates if you indeed feel the opposite.

i'm seeing a a holiday and i literally heard honeymoon. there's a good chance it could happen on your honeymoon. otherwise, it will happen when you and your person are on holiday. celebrating an anniversary perhaps or an engagement, or a birthday or valentine's day. or even just having a weekend getaway to spend time together. that is the scenario i am getting for when it will happen. how it will happen...well it's funny you ask because it seems to just happen so quickly. not the act itself but rather the decision, the passion, the excitement. i see you in particular being so impatient. you want to go to the next level so bad and don't get me wrong, your person feels the same but you are so damn ready for it. i seriously think you may be having extreme sexual frustration. you're so desperate to do it!

you may have attempted to do it already but experienced some sort of setback or delay, perhaps interrupted by life responsibilities. so when you get this chance to do it again, you are not leaving until you have done it haha. oh i think for those of you who are waiting for marriage, perhaps you didn't get the chance to do it on your wedding night or didn't end up going all the way. so you will go all the way when you are honeymooning. hmm so i think you are the type of person who tries to be positive but when you are feeling not positive it is so dramatic. you might be a bit of a drama queen and i'm seeing a scenario where your person is being so playful and attentive of your pouty mood and that's when you will realise "i want them so bad" haha like you will be ready to pounce on them. something about their little dedicated actions will make you want them so much. not just physically, you want them to be your first so bad because they are the best person ever and you can't imagine it with anyone else.

yeah there is so much impatience here. you just can't hold back anymore. it will be a real struggle for your person also they will try so hard to not rush you, but the sex itself will feel like a reward after waiting for so long and giving so much effort to wait this long. oh i'm seeing it could go on for hours. all of that tension, sexual frustration and impatience building up and then snapping and you can't stop. i'm seeing it will be slow at first but i'm also seeing at the end you'll be going fast like rabbits. you and your person will both be surprised at how much you can take, and how well you are taking it. i see you maybe even taking the lead and being on top once you get used to it.

you will both really enjoy the foreplay. for some it could happen quickly because you're so excited to get straight into the sex. but for others, the foreplay could last a while, building up to the real thing and it blows your mind even more. you first time will be so liberating. even during your very first experience, you want to do all the things you fantasised about, explore all of your kinks but the night is so short. it's hard for you to do all of that but the passion and excitement is there and your partner will see it. oh i see opposites attract, so they may be calmer and tamer than you and kind of teach you to slow down whilst still satisfying your appetite.

okay i see you partner envisioning you as a map to explore. not just in terms of exploring your body, but also your mind, your fantasies, your kinks, all the positions they can have you in. your "awakening" is also awakening something inside of them. i think it is important to practise sex in moderation because too much all at once could make you feel sick later on, like eating too many sweets. i'm pretty sure you'll end up ignoring this advice though haha. it's liberating and healing, opening a whole new world to you. this pile feels more refreshing and adventurous compared to the other piles. a very young and bright spirit. there is more focus on the experience with the body rather than emotional connections. it's opening your eyes to a whole new world, blanching your cells in a completely new feeling. i love this for you pile four. there is so much to be excited for.

𝙥𝙞𝙡𝙚 𝙛𝙞𝙫𝙚 💋

cards drawn: five of cups, two of wands, the tower, the devil rv

i'm sorry to open with this pile five but this is the only "negative" pile out of all of these piles, but i do say it lightly. it won't be an absolutely terrible experience so to speak but i do see you feeling some sort of regret after it happens. there will definitely be tears, likely from the initial pain of it happening. but i see the tears also being caused by emotions. ah for some of you, i see you thinking your first time was an opportunity to deepen your relationship with your person, but they will leave you afterwards. you had hopes they would be your forever person but after giving them something so important, they left. for some, it will be that the person was sort of using you, or they realised this experience was as far and committed as they wanted to be with you, so they leave afterwards.

i am sorry to say the above but my advice here is to be very careful and selective with the person you choose. but i think for others, it will be that they will stay with you a little longer, and leave later on due to other reasons. but you will still feel that regret of giving your virginity to them and wish you had saved it in the end. oh i do see a small number of you where it happens as a drunken mistake/one night stand or something of the sort. and for others, there is the possibility of becoming pregnant or getting someone pregnant during your first time which may lead to regrets. oh i know i am saying many different scenarios here so please only take what resonates as this is a general reading after all, there are messages for many different people.

i believe during the act itself, you will be feeling quite courageous, very daring energy. i think you will be nervous beforehand, maybe questioning if you should go through with the act or not. however, i do see you being brave and talking yourself up to it, kind of hyping yourself up to not waste anymore time. it feels quite spontaneous and in the moment, but you will simply just know that you want it to happen. it could also happen when you are abroad or travelling somewhere away from home. and you will have that excitement because your first time is an opportunity to discover something entirely new. you will be pushing yourself out of your comfort zone!

i do see it being a "messy" experience too. like clothes and bedsheets all over the place. even if it was something sweet with rose petals and candles and nice bedsheets, it will all end up a mess in the end. this can be good or bad depending on your preferences, but i do see you being shocked when you realise the extent of the mess which was made. you will be thinking "damn, were we really that unhinged?" it really feels like you're falling. you know those dreams where you're falling and you get those sensations in your tummy? i'm seeing you will have that feeling. it could be when you climax, the feeling of plummeting after reaching a high. you can also sometimes get that feeling when you are nervous or overwhelmed so it could be due to that.

the feeling itself would be quite unexpected. i feel you may have some thoughts or perceptions of how sex might feel but when it happens it is completely different. but in a good way! oh i feel you may be having some deep, dark fantasies in regards to sex, and you will be thinking about them a lot. but your first time will break you away from those fantasies because the act itself is different to what you expect, it kind of changes your thoughts about sex in general. yeah, it is literally life-changing for you. not in an extreme way lol but still, it will change your thoughts and perceptions about sex and possibly about life in general. i also think there will be lots of overwhelming feelings and emotions, but you will work through them easily. okay the last message is so random however i'm hearing "blindfolded", that may be one of your kinks or you will discover it as a kink. it could possibly be a part of your sexual experience. this was a pretty difficult pile to read for with some no-so-great messages, however i do want to tell you to not feel disheartened. you will eventually learn to accept how it happened because the first experience does not set the standard for all of them, and you will learn to have better experiences in the future!

© riizebabie444 — all rights reserved. please do not copy, steal, repost or translate my readings on any site. any act of which will be classed as plagiarism.

[sanatomis]

⋆𐙚₊˚⊹ ᡣ𐭩 ── 𝐀 𝐅𝐋𝐀𝐒𝐇 𝐎𝐅 𝐑𝐄𝐌𝐄𝐌𝐁𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐄!

a child is bound to feel neglected when they discover no one bothered to show up for their science fair, especially when all their peers have someone to dote on them. it seems fushiguro megumi is no exception.

content. female!reader with she/her pronouns, feminine nicknames (princess), established relationship with satoru, slight angst with a happy ending.

notes. nobody was there when i presented my end of the year research-project as a 14 year old, so megumi (age 7), baby, i'm gonna make sure there's someone there for you.

࣪taglist. | series masterlist.

Megumi never really cared about science fairs. To him, they’re just a regular afternoon at school that he’ll have to sit through until he’s finally allowed to go home. He may think of them as unnecessary—as he does not believe in a good reason for parents to come to the school and marvel at their child’s (very much mediocre) creation—but he has never had a strong opinion towards them. They were just. . .there. 

He didn’t pay them much mind, and that exact indifference turned out to be the motive behind the very serious crime of putting a flyer in the bin. 

“Look what I found!” 

There’s a sense of annoyance that bubbles up in his stomach when Satoru puts the invitation to the science fair in front of him. Megumi’s brows furrow, and he purses his lips—leave it to him to find something he doesn’t want to have found. 

“Hm?” You hum, and lean over to look. One of Satoru’s fingers taps impatiently on the flyer, as if it’s saying ‘look, I caught him hiding something!’. Megumi briefly contemplates biting the digit clean off. “Science fair. . .Is this yours, Megumi?”

While reading, you put the bowl of rice back down onto the dinner table, and Tsumiki gingerly grabs it upon return. You mouth the words as you do so, and the boy nearly gags when he watches Satoru’s lovesick gaze at your little quip. It’s so disgustingly sappy, he nearly forgets you asked him a question. Nearly, as it had induced just enough anxiety into him to make him remember. 

“Mhm,” he mumbles, and pokes a piece of chicken with his chopsticks. 

You stop reading at his confirmation. There’s a sad look in your eye, it forms quickly and is instantly directed at him. Megumi doesn’t like it. Especially since he’s most likely the cause of it. “Why didn’t you tell us?” You ask, and he finds himself at a loss of words. 

Why didn’t he tell you? In all honesty, it just didn’t occur to him to do so. He has never cared about science fairs, nor has he had people who attended them for him. Most times, they are for parents only—so try as she might, Tsumiki was never allowed inside. Megumi eventually stopped bringing them up. He felt a little sorry for all the failed attempts his sister (very lovingly) made. But now. . .well, yes, why didn’t he tell you? 

He doesn’t know the answer to that. 

“Didn’t think of it,” he says eventually, because he knows you’ve been trying to get him to talk more; verbalising his feelings, is what you called it. 

You frown at his answer, and it makes him wonder if he said the wrong thing. A quick glance between you and the man at your side is shared. Megumi thinks that can’t be good. 

“It says it’s for tomorrow evening,” you tell Satoru, and push the flyer over back to his side of the table. “Are you free, then?”

Satoru pauses. He’s not free, Megumi knows he isn’t. Not because Satoru told him so, but because he listened to the phone call he had a few hours ago. It’s bad manners, he knows—he can hear you in his head, and he shouldn’t have done it. But, Satoru talks so loudly, he should simply quiet down if he doesn’t want others to hear. 

“I sure am,” he says then, and Megumi tries to hide the surprise on his face. He’s lying. Liar. Liar. Liar. It’s all that goes through the boy’s head, but he doesn’t say it out loud. 

He does wonder why Satoru lied, but he quickly gets his answer when he sees the happy smile that breaks out on your lips. “That’s great!” You say, and place one of your hands on his. Seemingly delighted, you look at Megumi. “We’ll be there.” 

“It’s nothing special,” Megumi says. His voice is clear this time, as opposed to his previous mumbling. Once again, he hears you in his head. You’re allowed to make noise. “You really don’t have to.” 

“Nonsense,” Satoru chimes. 

You continue his sentence. “We’ll be there.” 

We’ll be there. 

We’ll be there. 

We’ll be there. 

. . .So, where are you? 

Megumi isn’t too proud to admit that he’s currently desperately looking for the blabbermouth you call your boyfriend. It’s not because he’d rather have him here than you, but his white hair makes for a stark contrast among the crowd. It’s so very easy to find, and yet it’s nowhere to be found. He’s not here, and that, by extension, means you probably aren’t here, either. The realisation hits him harder than he thought it would have. 

For some reason, there’s a deep sadness. He thinks it’s a little silly. Nobody has ever shown up before, and he was fine with that. Being alone isn’t new to him. None of the situation he’s currently in is surprising, and yet Megumi has to fight off the tears welling up in his eyes. Why is he feeling this way? This hasn’t happened before. 

Megumi doesn’t care about science fairs. But, if that were true, then why do all the children and their parents suddenly make the room feel smaller? He swallows. All his classmates are darting around the room, chattering and motioning towards their projects while their parents gawk in feigned awe. As they always did. Except now, he feels something akin to resentment boil from within. His hand balls up into a fist. 

There isn’t a good enough reason for him to feel so disappointed. The position he finds himself in isn’t unfamiliar, and he knows Satoru was initially called-in for a mission somewhere in Ginza. Something came up, that’s all there is to it. Megumi knew better than to get his hopes up, or so he thought. How pitiful.After all this time, he still hasn’t learned.

And suddenly, he’s four years old again, and crawling into the crumpled bed sheets of his father’s ever-so-empty bed. He’s holding onto the fabric as if it’ll slip through his fingers, and stifling his quiet sobs with the pillow that doesn’t carry the same comforting scent any longer. It hasn’t for months now. Megumi keeps hoping that one day, it will. Tsumiki peeks into the room, and he pretends not to notice. He’s four years old, and has no parents, and absolutely no idea why his father left without him. 

Why was he forgotten? 

There is a lump forming in his throat. Its imminent appearance lulled him out of the faded memory, and into the present—the present, where he is, once again, forgotten about. Perhaps that is simply the tale of Megumi Fushiguro. 

“Mom, look! I added the glitter to it just as you said,” a girl speaks from the booth next to him. “What do you think? It’s pretty, right? Do you think it’s pretty?”

Her mother laughs, and pets her head once the girl starts tugging on her arm. “Mhm, it’s beautiful, darling. I’m very proud of you.”

Megumi doesn’t necessarily want to cry. Though, when his eyes water momentarily, there’s very little he can do about it; he feels even more powerless when his bottom lip starts trembling. He once read that blinking rapidly will make one’s tears disappear like snow before the sun, except that article mustn’t have taken the feeling of heartbreak into consideration. It doesn’t matter how much Megumi blinks, the first tear falls down his cheek a few seconds later. 

“Huh? What’s this? You really need to work on your handwriting, Megumi, your name is barely rea. . .” 

A part of him is convinced that the universe has it out for him. There is no other reason for the constant waves of misfortune that strike him. Sniffling, he looks up at the man in front of him—and the worst thought he has ever had surfaces. He is so very happy to see Satoru Gojo. 

Satoru’s eyes widen in shock upon seeing the water staining the boy’s cheeks, but even then Megumi can’t find it within himself to feel embarrassed. Not at this moment. With teary eyes, he blinks up at the tall man that snatched him up from the street like he was some discarded piece of free furniture.

“Where’s. . .” he croaks out, but gets interrupted rather quickly. 

“She’s talking to your teacher,” Satoru says softly. It’s a new tone of voice, one Megumi vaguely remembers as the one he normally reserved for you. This is making him uncomfortable—even a blind person would see that, but Satoru still tries. “Hey, it’s alright, buddy. She’s here.” 

The pat on his head nearly feels awkward. . .No, it does feel awkward. Satoru is petting him as if he were gently pressing a buzzer. It’s not even remotely close to the soft caresses you use when soothing him back to sleep, but it still brings him some strange sense of comfort. Megumi doesn’t swat his hand away. 

“There, there,” Satoru mumbles, and crouches down to his height. It’s a little silly to see such a man all folded up, his legs too long to look normal. “There was an accident a little further down the road. It took us a little longer to get here.”

Megumi lets out a shaky sigh. The petting stops shortly after. It’s quiet for a little while after—even if the room is filled with adults and children alike. Satoru looks at him, and he briefly wonders how you’re able to withstand looking into his eyes for as long as you do sometimes; Megumi thinks the blues will blind him soon. He gulps. For as annoying he might be when speaking, it turns out that Satoru Gojo is much more unnerving when he’s silent—silent, and looking right at you. 

Adorned with white lashes, Satoru’s baby blues pick Megumi apart at the seam. The boy has the brief idea to ask what he is thinking, but then decides against it. 

“Are you okay?”

The sound of his voice startles him. He hadn’t expected him to speak any time soon. 

“Megumi,” he calls out. “Are you okay?”

Is he okay? Megumi doesn’t know for sure. There are a lot of emotions he went through these past twenty minutes, and he isn’t entirely convinced that his brain was able to process them all. But for now—for now, he at least feels okay. 

Megumi nods. It’s all he does, not confident in his ability to verbalise his thoughts at the moment. He sniffs again. He’s okay, things are okay. 

“Good, that’s good,” Satoru mumbles, and his eyes dart towards the right side of the room; towards the door. He clears his throat, and one of his fingers carefully makes its way towards Megumi’s cheek. “That’s good. She’s here now, see?”

Megumi visibly perks up, and, while still a little shaken, starts searching for you. As soon as he lifts his head up, there’s a soft brush against his skin. He wavers for a moment, confusion on his face once he realises Satoru brushed some stray tears away. The two look at each other once again. Why did he. . .

“Oh, there you are, lovie,” you say, relief apparent in your voice. It never takes you long to embrace Megumi—you once said he’d be stuck in your arms forever if you had your way. The boy moulds into you, and his anxiety dissipates as soon as your perfume hits his nose; the scent comforting him. “I’m so sorry, there was an accident, and all roads were blocked, and. . .God, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to keep you waiting for so long.” 

You cup his cheeks in his hands, and Megumi suddenly feels under scrutiny. It’s as if you’re searching for any inkling that your late arrival had caused him unease. It clicks, then, why Satoru did what he did. He’s a buffoon most of the time, but it seems there are some working cells left in his brain—when it concerns you, of course. Megumi is very thankful for him now. Though, he will deny ever feeling so. 

“Alright, princess, let him breathe,” Satoru says, the usual light lilt to his voice has made a return. There’s a small smile on his face as he watches you fuss over him. “Don’t you want to show us your project, Megumi?”

The mention of his project catches your attention. “Oh! Yes, will you show us, Gumi?” 

One might think you’re speaking about some grand architecture design rather than a small, barely functioning science project. That is, if they took the look in your eyes as anything to go by. The boy glances between you and Satoru. Megumi then decides that, yes, he would like to show it to you—he always has wanted to show them. 

You weren’t his parents, but you were at his side. And when Megumi looks at the near-giddy excitement showing up on Satoru’s face, and the unconditional support on yours. . .he thinks that may just be enough. 

He nods, and finds his words again. 

“I—I will, yes. Follow me, please.”

© MADE BY SANATOMIS — please, refrain from stealing, copying, or reposting any of my works.

taglist [based off the last fic in the series, let me know if it’s no longer wanted]: @torusdoll @sad-darksoul

[rafesapologist]

the set up — rafe cameron; part ten

𝘀𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆: you've been one of the pogues since childhood, and your loyalty has always lied within your friend group, who is practically your family. when a threat by the name of rafe cameron begins to threaten the pogue's plans, they assign you to gain the trust of the dubious kook and keep an eye on what he's up to. however, now it's been six months since your friends set you up to spy on the kook prince himself, but what you didn't anticipate was to fall head over heels for the boy. your relationship had soon become inviolable shortly after your guys' first exchanges, much to your friends' dismay, and you two became practically inseperable. that was, until rafe discovers the truth.

warnings: angst, sad rafe, idk i might be forgetting something

author's note: this chapter is both long and not entirely proof read so bear with me lol. i also wrote this at like 4 am so please. anyways, i want to start making the chapters a bit longer for you guys since i've been away for so long. enjoy!

"Y/n, what's wrong? What's going on?" You could feel Rafe's tangible consternation right through the phone. Your chest felt like it was caving in, accompanied by the growing, nausea-inducing pit in your stomach formulated from your feelings of guilt. The way his typically baritone voice was strained and quiet, presumably from the unexpected "emergency"phone call you had presented him with.

"I-I got into a huge fight with JJ," you fibbed with the help of the crack in your voice and a sorrowing tone that could only make Rafe crumble right in your hands, "it's a long story, but I need to get out of here. I can't be in this place any longer, Rafe." You fraudulently sobbed.

"Okay, okay.. Just breathe, yeah? I can come and get you in a second I just really have to finish this thing with my dad fir-"

"Rafe, please. I need you now." You pleaded as though your life depended on it, which in a way, it did. You realized that had your attempt to lure Rafe into your arms failed, your friends would be in a heap of danger.

An audible sigh was heard from the other sign of the phone, along with muffled chatter that you assumed was Rafe and Ward talking. The conversation, or what you heard of it, sounded like back-and-forth bickering for the most part, which caused a wave of anxiety to wash over you as you began to pick at your nails. Seconds felt like hours as you waited to hear Rafe's voice again on the other side, but it sounded as though the conversation continued. You stayed on the other side of the line in complete silence, not wanting to interrupt the matter, but the longer it took your nerves ensued.

"I'm on my way." Rafe suddenly responded, taking you off guard after not hearing him address you within a period of time.

"Thank you." You whispered, a small smile of satisfaction present on your face at what you had managed to accomplish. Perhaps Rafe was more infatuated than you imagined, you thought.

*NEW MESSAGE FROM Y/N to KIARA CARRERA: done.*

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

Time passed by quickly whilst you waited for Rafe's arrival. You paced the living room back and forth a few times, wondering how you were going to pull off such a stunt despite the pit in your stomach growing and your hands trembling with unease. Your mind became your worst enemy as you thought through everything that could go wrong as you anxiously waited for the time to come, replaying every bad scenario through your head over and over again - until you were practically sick.

Your pessimistic thoughts were cut to a halt by a loud knock at the door, one that sounded more like someone was pounding on the other side. The noise made your body jump as you immediately turned a heel towards the door. You approached hesitantly, trying to kill as much time as possible before you'd open the door, but as time progressed the knocking became quicker and louder thuds that raddled the chateau.

"Y/n. Are you hurt? Did he do something to you cause I'll kick that son of a bitch to a pul-"

"No, Rafe, I'm not hurt. Not physically, at least." You shook your head, forcing out your voice in the most pathetic tone you could possible mimic. Rafe frowned in response as he noticed the way your head hung low and eyes stayed glued to the ground.

"What did he say to you?" Rafe softly asked, approaching you with caution and ease as he tucked a strand of your hair behind your ear, causing a familiar sense of butterflies to errupt and flutter around in your stomach.

"He just brought up a bunch of stuff about my family and called me a traitor for spending time with you. For being with you, basically." Your vision became blurry as tears clouded your view, unsure of how they got there, but you mentally applauded yourself for such a performance.

"I'm so sorry, y/n. C'mere." Rafe cooed sympathetically as he pulled you into his arms tightly, possibly the tightest embrace you've felt in your life, but in a sense it felt good to be held like that. Like nothing in the world could hurt you while you were wrapped up in Rafe Cameron's arms, as insane as it sounded to you.

Your body relaxed in his arms, eyes closing as you soaked up every bit of his warmth. You nearly hummed in such delight before stopping yourself, not wanting to feed into Rafe's ego more than you already were just by calling him over for help. But it did feel nice, a feeling that came as a shock to you.

"I wanna get out of here, Rafe. Please." You sniffled, looking up at the brooding figure with those sad puppy-dog eyes that could make any man melt in your hands.

"Of course. Do you want to come back to my place? You can spend the night with me if you don't feel like going home."

You shook your head, "I don't wanna go home, especially not like this. Are you sure it's okay if I stay with you tonight?"

"Yeah, yeah 'course it is. Besides, my dad probably wont be back tonight and Rose and Wheezie are with him so I'll need the company. I'd prefer yours over theirs anyways." Rafe flashed you a small smile, hoping to diminish the frown that clouded your features as he rubbed your forearms gently.

You trailed behind Rafe on the walk to the car, watching as he held the door open and gestured your inside. You gave him a weak simper and a head nod as a symbolism of your gratitude at his sentiment. You'd be a liar if you said it didn't make your heart flutter at how caring and gentle he was being towards you, but you cursed yourself for the fact that it was all because of a lie.

"Y/n?" Rafe asked, snapping you out of your trance while you gazed out of the window.

"Yeah?"

"You aren't upset with me for earlier, are you?" He inquired, biting the inside of his cheek.

"No, why would I be?" You tilted your head, brows furrowed as you made eye contact with the blue-eyed Kook.

"I don't know. I guess I just thought you seemed a little dry when I was dropping you off earlier, s'all." Rafe coughed out, noticing how he scratched the back of his head as he spoke feebly.

"Oh, I see." You blinked, "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to come off that way. I've just been a little tired I guess."

"No, don't apologize. It's okay." He turned his head, taking his eyes off the road for a split second to reassure you with a thin-lipped smile. You observed as he clutched the steering wheel, veins ostensibly poking through along his arms and hands in a way that made your thighs clench together tightly. You gulped silently in an attempt to restrain yourself and regain composure - this was Rafe Cameron you were talking about. Yet on the other hand, despite his vainglorious ways and haughty sense-of-self, inhis eyes, a flicker of mischief dances amidst shadows, a daring tale waiting to unfold. He was the embodiment of defiance, a canvas of contradictions where danger and allure converge in captivating disarray. You found yourself ensnared by the gravity of his presence, a force that pulled your world into his magnetic orbit. You could keep reminding yourself to run away from him, but where would you go to hide? He was everywhere, from the depths of your mind, to every turning corner of Figure 8.

You made it back to the Cameron's residence before you knew it, perhaps too caught up in the thought of Rafe to realize what was happening around you. However, once the car came to a halt and your surroundings stopped moving, reality soon greeted you once again.

You hopped out of the car, following behind Rafe like a lost puppy who didn't know where it was. You felt out of place, and a bit on edge. You wondered if your friends were okay, praying that your decoy tactics were doing them good. The other half of your nerves came from the fact that you were doing something that went against your moral code, and challenged your ability to lie to the face of someone you.. Care about?

"Do you want anything to drink? Water, tea, a soda?" Rafe asked, making his way to the kitchen with you in close pursuit.

"I'm good." You passed off his offer with a half-hearted laugh and a weak smile. As you watched him, the ambient light of the fridge casted a soft glow on his silhouette. His movements were casual, effortless, as he navigated the contents in search of a drink. The way he tilted his head slightly, the lines of his profile against the cool light—it’s a fleeting portrait etched into your memory. You found yourself caught in the simplicity of the moment, the way his fingers grazed the chilled bottles, his easy familiarity with the space. There was something mesmerizing about the way he handled the mundane, turning the ordinary into a scene worth cherishing. It was as though time slowed, encapsulating this small interaction, making it feel like an eternity. A smile tugged at your lips as you observed, captivated by his presence. The faint hum of the fridge was a backdrop to the symphony of your thoughts, all centered around this magnetic figure before you. In that unguarded moment, as he stood there unaware, he became the focal point of your world, drawing you deeper into the allure of his ordinary yet enchanting actions.

"Didn't realize I had an audience," he chuckled, catching you watching him with an amused glint in his eye. There was a playful energy in his tone, a sense that he knew he had inadvertently drawn your attention.

Leaning casually against the kitchen counter, he exuded a relaxed confidence. "If watching me rummage through the fridge becomes a regular show, I might have to start selling tickets," he teased, trying to lighten the moment but also displaying a subtle curiosity about what had captured your interest. His ego slowly peaking through, as usual.

"Oh, absolutely riveting," you retorted, a hint of sarcasm lacing your words as you met his amused gaze. "Your fridge exploration was the highlight of my day, truly." Your lips curved into a wry smile, eyes dancing with playful mockery.

Rafe hesitated for a moment, the playful glint in his eyes softening as he met your gaze. "You know, watching you watch me... it's kind of different," he began, his voice a touch softer, a hint of vulnerability slipping through his usual ease.

"I mean, it's not every day someone looks at me like... well, like that," he admitted, the words stumbling out with a hint of uncertainty. His gaze briefly faltered, a struggle evident within him as if battling between speaking his mind and holding back.

But before he could continue, he stopped himself abruptly, a shadow of hesitation crossing his features. "Sorry, I didn't mean to make things weird. Forget I said anything," he deflected, a faint tinge of regret coloring his words as he tried to backtrack, a sudden unease settling over him.

As he hesitated, you caught the shift in his demeanor, a glimpse of something vulnerable beneath his usual confidence. "No, don't," you interjected softly, reaching out to gently touch his hand, your eyes imploring him to continue. "Please, whatever you were going to say... I want to hear it."

In that suspended moment of vulnerability, he gathered the courage to speak what had been on his mind for far too long. "I... I've always felt something different around you," he confessed, his voice softer than a whisper, carrying the weight of unspoken emotions.

"It's not just the way you look at me, but... how you make me feel," he continued, his gaze locking with yours, each word chosen with care, as if he was navigating uncharted territory. "There's this warmth, this comfort that settles in whenever you're near." He paused, the air thick with anticipation, his heart pounding against the cage of his chest. He struggled to find the right words to express the depth of what he felt, a mixture of fear and longing flickering in his eyes.

But as the moment hung between them, poised on the edge of revelation, he stopped himself once more, the weight of his unspoken feelings heavy upon him. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said anything," he murmured, a flicker of uncertainty clouding his features as he withdrew, fearing he might have crossed a line.

You were stunned, his words piercing through the air, carrying a weight you hadn't expected. Your heart fluttered in response, a mix of surprise and a tinge of something deeper stirring within you.

"I never realized," you breathed out, your voice trembling slightly, trying to make sense of the emotions swirling inside. His confession had caught you off guard, unraveling a part of your own feelings you hadn't fully acknowledged.

"There's always been this... something," you confessed, your words coming out in a rush, a newfound realization taking hold. "A connection, a pull towards you that I couldn't quite define."

Yet, before you could explore this uncharted territory further, you sensed his hesitation, his retreat from the vulnerable moment you had both stepped into. The abruptness left you reeling, an unspoken ache lingering in the charged air between you.

"I didn't mean to make it awkward," you murmured, regret coloring your tone as you witnessed his uncertainty. The unspoken sentiments hung heavy, a silent conversation begging to be continued, the depth of emotions left unexplored.

In the hush of that moment, you found yourselves locked in a silent exchange. His gaze, an ocean of depths, met yours with an unwavering intensity, drawing you in like a force. You perched on the kitchen counter, feeling the cool surface beneath you, as he closed the distance, a dance of proximity that felt almost orchestrated by fate.

Closer, step by deliberate step, until the air crackled with an unspoken tension. Rafe's presence enveloped you, a shield from the outside world, as if the space around you had collapsed into a world of its own. You felt his warmth seep through the inches that separated you, a silent harmony of shared breaths.

In that suspended moment, time seemed to stand still. Your breaths mingled, creating a delicate rhythm of anticipation. His hand moved with a tenderness that spoke volumes, gently enclosing you within the confines of that intimate space.

And as his closeness eclipsed the distance between you, your eyes locked in a silent conversation, saying things that mere words couldn't articulate. The world outside faded into insignificance as the universe shrank to just the two of you, suspended in a timeless embrace of unspoken longing.

Your breath hitched, Rafe's minty-breath fanning over your skin as his lips lingered a few inches from your face. You felt a flutter in your chest as his eyes bore into yours, each glance a revelation, unraveling layers of unspoken emotions. In the depth of his stare, you sensed a vulnerability, a longing that mirrored your own.

Before you had time to think, his lips connected with yours, passionately but with a delicacy that made it seem like if he pushed too far, you would break. You took in his affection, pulling him in by the back of his neck as he hungrily devoured the cherry lip balm off of your glossy lips. Rafe kept the pace slow, but his movements were eager and greedy for more of you. His large hands trailing up your open thighs, stopping at your hips as he gripped them and squeezed at them lightly.

You moaned into his mouth as you longed for more of him, a testimate you figured you'd regret doing later, but in that moment, you needed him, and he knew it.

Rafe responded with a smirk against your lips, letting out a deep, low chuckle from the bottom of his throat that sent tingles down your spine. You arched your body towards his, caving into his touch and practically begging for more. You weren't exactly sure why you were so taken over by such feeling of lust, but you wouldn't dare brush it off.

"God, I love you." Rafe groaned, murmuring his words against your neck yet they came out plain as day. Your eyes, previously shut as you took in the bliss of what you were experiencing, now shot wide open and you stared ahead.

"You.. What?" You stammered on your words as your throat seemingly went dry.

In the wake of his sudden admission, you were left speechless, the air heavy with the unexpected weight of his confession. His words lingered in the space between you, a revelation that seemed to have shifted the very ground beneath your feet.

You looked at him, shock etched in your features, mirrored in the stunned expression on his face. In that suspended moment, an unspoken understanding passed between you, a shared astonishment at the sudden revelation.

Time seemed to halt, the air thick with a mix of emotions, leaving you both stranded in an uncomfortable silence. His confession hung in the air, and you found yourself grappling with a whirlwind of thoughts and feelings, trying to comprehend the sudden turn of events.

The shock of his abrupt admission left you reeling, unsure of how to respond, as if the ground beneath your feet had shifted. The air crackled with a charged tension, a profound moment that had unexpectedly unfolded between you, leaving you both standing at the precipice of an uncertain new chapter.

"Y/n-I... It was the heat of the moment." He was lying right through his teeth.

"Rafe you don't say those things because of 'the heat of the moment'." You stated, face still covered in shock.

"I know, I know," he replied, his voice tinged with a mix of regret and sincerity, attempting to backpedal. "But sometimes... things just spill out, you know?"

You looked at him, your expression a mix of disbelief and uncertainty, the shock still painted across your features. "You don't say those things because of 'the heat of the moment'," you stated firmly, your voice carrying a weight of conviction.

He met your gaze, his eyes searching for a lifeline in the tumultuous sea of emotions. "I guess... I might have gotten carried away," he admitted, a hint of remorse coloring his words. "But that doesn't mean I don't mean it, Y/n."

His attempt to retract his words faltered in the face of your unwavering response, leaving an uncomfortable tension hanging between you, the unspoken truth lingering in the air, too palpable to be ignored.

"I messed up, saying it like that," Rafe sighed, a hint of frustration creeping into his tone as he struggled to express himself. "But the truth is, I've been feeling this way for a while now."

You watched him, the shock slowly morphing into a mix of confusion and a glimmer of curiosity. "Rafe, why now? Why like this?" you questioned, seeking clarity in the whirlwind of emotions that engulfed both of you.

He hesitated, searching for the right words, a turbulent storm brewing in his thoughts. "I didn't plan it, it just happened," he confessed, a sense of urgency in his voice. "But... being around you, it's like discovering something I didn't know I needed. And I don't want to pretend otherwise."

The vulnerability in his admission hung in the air, an unspoken plea for understanding and a hint of desperation to convey what he truly felt. The intensity of the moment lingered, a raw and unfiltered exchange leaving you both exposed, suspended in a realm of unresolved emotions.

The sudden confession left you reeling, a storm of conflicting thoughts raging within. His words echoed in your mind, but beneath the shock, a sense of unease crept in. You couldn't ignore the inconvenient truth—you had approached him under false pretenses, a lie woven into the fabric of your interactions.

As his feelings spilled out, you couldn't shake the feeling that this wasn't the right time. Guilt tugged at your conscience, reminding you that your connection with him was built on a shaky foundation. How could you entertain the possibility of reciprocating his feelings when the truth had been veiled behind a facade?

His sincerity clashed with the dishonesty looming over your encounters. The weight of regret settled heavy on your shoulders, wishing for an alternate reality where honesty could pave the way for genuine emotions to blossom.

Amidst the tumult of emotions, you grappled with the turmoil of regret, longing for a different circumstance where the truth could guide the course of your connection with him.

"Rafe.. you don't know what you're saying." You shook your head, voice quiet as your head hung low while guilt proceeded you.

"But I know how I feel, Y/n."

He watched you, a sense of helplessness clouding his features as he realized the weight of his confession. "I get it if this is too much, too soon," he murmured, a mix of sincerity and a hint of pleading in his voice. "I just needed you to know."

There was a pang of regret in his chest, knowing that his impulsive admission might have pushed things too far, too quickly. He hoped for understanding, for a chance to rectify the situation, but the gravity of his words hung heavy in the air, leaving an uncertain tension between you both.

"Rafe, please.. Don't do this." You continued shaking your head at him, your body deterring his words away from you.

Rafe’s expression softened, his eyes reflecting a mix of remorse and a longing to make things right. "I didn't mean to make things complicated," he said, his voice laced with regret as he recognized the distress in your plea.

"I'll back off, I promise," he assured, a sense of resignation coloring his words. "I'll give you space, whatever you need."

He took a step back, giving you a gentle nod as if to affirm his commitment to respecting your wishes. Though the weight of his unspoken feelings lingered, he understood the importance of honoring your request, his regret palpable in the ache of the unspoken words he left hanging in the air.

"You didn't do anything wrong, Rafe. I just - I don't think you know what you're getting yourself into."

Rafe's features softened once more, a glint of understanding in his eyes as he absorbed your words. "I hear you," he replied softly, a tinge of regret lacing his voice. "Maybe I jumped the gun."

He took a step closer, a reassuring gesture without encroaching on your space. "I get it, Y/n. I don't want to complicate things for you," he acknowledged, a sense of empathy coloring his words. "I'll... figure it out."

There was a lingering sadness in his eyes, a realization that the depth of his feelings might have inadvertently disrupted the delicate balance. He offered a faint, understanding smile, silently conveying his acceptance of your decision while grappling with the weight of unspoken sentiments swirling within him.

Your heart ached at the sight of him, the turmoil of emotions swirling within you as you watched Rafe navigate the complexities of the moment. There was a pang of empathy mixed with a tinge of regret, knowing that his heartfelt confession had collided with a reality too intricate to unravel.

His genuine vulnerability struck a chord within you, the sincerity in his eyes a poignant reminder of the depth of his feelings. Despite the complexities, there was an undeniable longing in his gaze, a silent plea for understanding.

Yet, amidst the ache, you held firm, knowing that conceding to the whirlwind of emotions might only deepen the intricate web you both found yourselves entangled in. The ache in your chest was a silent testament to the conflicting desires to both embrace and pull away from the vulnerability that lay bare between you.

With a gentle resolve in your voice, you offered a solution to diffuse the tension hanging in the air. "I'm going to go to bed. I'll sleep in the guest room if you'd like for me to," you softly stated, your gaze fixed on Rafe, awaiting his response.

Rafe met your gaze, a mix of gratitude and regret flickering in his eyes. "I appreciate that," he replied quietly, his voice carrying a hint of resignation. "But you don't have to do that. You can take my room; I'll take the guest."

There was a sense of mutual understanding in his response, a tacit acknowledgment of the unspoken boundaries between you. As you turned to leave, a bittersweet atmosphere lingered, the weight of unresolved emotions hanging in the air, leaving both of you to navigate the uncharted territories of unspoken sentiments.

Your heart urged you to offer more, to say something that could alleviate the heaviness in the room, yet words eluded you. You wished to ease the ache in Rafe's eyes, to erase the tension that had woven its way between you both.

But the weight of the moment held you captive, words caught in the tangled threads of conflicting emotions. You longed to express understanding, to mend the rift caused by the unexpected turn of events, but the complexity of the situation left you grappling with the silence.

With a heavy sigh and a lingering gaze, you retreated, knowing that sometimes the silence spoke louder than any words you could muster, and hoping that time might offer a balm to heal the unspoken wounds that lingered between you and Rafe.

As you made your way to Rafe's room, guilt weighed heavy on your shoulders, each step a reminder of the tangled web of emotions you found yourself entwined in. The faint echo of your own footsteps seemed to resonate with the uncertainty that clouded your mind.

Slipping under the covers, the warmth of the room offered little comfort against the turmoil within. You couldn't shake off the guilt, a relentless companion that followed you into the darkness. The sheets felt colder than usual, a stark contrast to the turmoil raging inside you.

Lying there, your thoughts tangled in a maze of regret, you replayed the events of the evening, questioning the choices that led to this poignant moment. The weight of the situation pressed down on you, leaving you feeling adrift in a sea of conflicting emotions.

Sleep remained elusive, your mind restless, grappling with the repercussions of your actions. The guilt lingered as a constant reminder of the complexities that now defined the fragile dynamics between you and Rafe.

As the night ebbed away, the soft hues of dawn painted the sky, signaling the arrival of a new day. You descended the stairs, a faint unease lingering from the events of the previous evening, unsure of what the morning would bring.

At the foot of the staircase, you were met with Rafe, his presence an unexpected yet anticipated encounter. There was an awkward tension in the air, a silent acknowledgment of the unresolved emotions that hung between you both.

"Morning," Rafe greeted, his voice carrying a hint of uncertainty, the weight of the unspoken words from the night before lingering in the air.

"Morning," you replied softly, the air heavy with an unspoken understanding, a palpable sense of discomfort threading through the atmosphere.

There was an unspoken agreement to navigate the morning with cautious steps, each movement tinged with the residue of the unresolved emotions that lingered between you. The air crackled with an unspoken tension, leaving both of you searching for a semblance of normalcy in the midst of the palpable awkwardness.

"I'm gonna head back to the chateau in a few, JJ said he wants to talk to me," you mentioned, trying to break the palpable tension hanging in the air.

Rafe's laughter was dry, a strained sound that echoed in the room, a stark contrast to the ease that once defined your interactions. "Seems like he's got a lot to talk about these days," he remarked, a hint of bitterness seeping into his words.

You sensed the unease in his tone, a reflection of the awkwardness that enveloped the space between you. The weight of the unresolved emotions lingered, casting a shadow over the interaction, leaving the air heavy with unspoken sentiments.

The apology hung in the air, a quiet admission laden with the weight of remorse. "Rafe... I'm sorry, okay?" you uttered softly, the words an attempt to ease the strain that enveloped the space between you.

"Sure," Rafe replied, his tone notably drier, a touch of guardedness in his response. The weight of the situation lingered in the air, his words carrying a subtle hint of distance as he navigated the delicate balance between acceptance and reservation.

The conversation seemed to falter, leaving an uncomfortable silence that underscored the unspoken tension. Despite the attempt at reconciliation, there was a palpable hesitance in his demeanor, a reluctance to fully embrace the offered apology, adding another layer of complexity to the already strained atmosphere.

"I didn't say it because I don't care about you, Rafe," you asserted, hoping to clarify the sincerity behind your actions.

Rafe's response was more confrontational, his confusion apparent in his tone. "Then why?" he questioned, a hint of frustration seeping into his words. "It's just... it feels like nothing's adding up."

There was an edge to his demeanor, a palpable frustration stemming from the unresolved tension between you. The attempt at explanation seemed to only complicate matters further, leaving both of you grappling with the tangled web of emotions that refused to find resolution.

"Because I don't want you to get hurt," you explained, your voice soft yet firm, hoping to convey the underlying concern that had guided your actions.

Rafe's demeanor softened slightly, a flicker of surprise mingled with a trace of understanding in his expression. "Hurt?" he echoed, a hint of confusion still present but tempered by the sincerity in your words.

"Yeah," you continued, trying to articulate the protective instinct that fueled your choices. "Things are... complicated, and I didn't want to add to that."

There was a subtle shift in the atmosphere, an attempt to bridge the gap with honesty and concern, hoping to offer a glimpse into the complexities that had led to your decisions. The air, though still charged with tension, held a trace of empathy as you navigated the fragile balance between candor and reservation.

"Do you think I care if things are a little complicated, Y/n? My whole life has been complicated," Rafe responded, his voice carrying a mixture of resignation and a hint of frustration, a glimpse into the complexities he had grown accustomed to.

His words held a weight, a testament to the tumultuous experiences that had shaped his life. Despite the tension, there was a raw honesty in his admission, revealing the layers of complexities that had become intrinsic to his existence.

"Yeah, but it's me, Rafe. I'm a Pogue from the Cut, do you really want that? Your family probably has this whole plan set out for you to end up with a Kook, anyways," you expressed, a tinge of vulnerability woven into your words. "This, I, am way too complicated for your lifestyle. That's more weight than you could bear."

Your words carried the weight of societal expectations and the stark contrast between your worlds. The lines drawn by society's standards seemed insurmountable, adding layers of complexity to an already intricate situation. You highlighted the disparity between your backgrounds, emphasizing the potential burden it might pose for Rafe, intertwining concern for his well-being with an understanding of the societal barriers dividing you.

"I don't care, Y/n. I don't care what they have to say because I care about you. Why can't you just accept that?" Rafe's voice carried a raw honesty, his words cutting through the barriers of societal expectations.

Your heart skipped a beat at his unwavering declaration. "Because it's not that simple, Rafe," you replied softly, your voice laced with a mix of emotions. "There's so much more at stake than just us. Just trust me on this. Please."

"Y/n, please just listen to me. It doesn't have to be this way. We can make it work, whatever I have to do, I'll do it," Rafe pleaded, his voice tinged with a sense of urgency and determination.

You met his earnest gaze, torn between the desire to believe in his words and the weight of the obstacles you both faced. "Rafe, it's not that simple," you murmured, the turmoil evident in your tone. "There are things beyond our control, things that won't just change because we want them to."

The ache in your chest mirrored the conflict in your mind, the yearning to embrace his offer battling against the harsh realities that seemed to impose barriers between you.

The scene unfolded before you, and you witnessed the subtle tremble in Rafe's lip, a poignant display of the emotions he struggled to contain. Sorrow etched into the depths of his eyes, a vulnerable expression that laid bare the depth of his feelings.

Your heart wrenched at the sight, a surge of empathy flooding through you as you recognized the pain reflected in his gaze. The weight of the situation bore heavily on him, and the turmoil within him was palpable, painting a picture of raw vulnerability and unspoken longing.

Despite the complexities that stood between you both, the silent plea in his eyes tugged at your own emotions, evoking a whirlwind of conflicting sentiments that left you grappling with the ache of shared sorrow and the unyielding barriers that seemed to divide you.

"I need you, Y/n," Rafe's voice was tinged with desperation, a raw plea that echoed in the room, laying bare the depth of his emotions.

"I've got to go, Rafe," you whispered, your voice laden with sorrow, each word a painful admission of the necessity to part ways despite the shared longing.

Walking out of Rafe's house, tears blurred your vision, emotions swirling within as you grappled with the weight of the encounter. As you stepped outside, your friend Kiara awaited in the car, a knowing look in her eyes that spoke volumes without a single word exchanged.

Kiara observed your tear-stained cheeks and pained expression, her eyes reflecting a mix of concern and understanding. Without needing to speak, she unlocked the car doors, a silent invitation for you to seek solace in the comfort of her presence.

With a heavy heart, you slid into the passenger seat beside Kiara, the warmth of her presence offering a sense of solace amidst the whirlwind of emotions. The unspoken understanding between friends enveloped the space, allowing for a moment of silent companionship amid the storm of feelings that surged within.

"I did what you guys asked me," you stated flatly, the weight of your actions hanging heavily in the air, your voice tinged with resignation.

Kiara glanced at you, her expression a mix of concern and apprehension, recognizing the strain in your voice. "Are you okay?" she inquired softly, her tone laced with a gentle concern, understanding the difficulty of the task you'd undertaken for the sake of your friends.

You remained silent for a moment, the weight of the recent events settling heavily on your shoulders. "I will be," you finally replied, the words carrying a hint of uncertainty, as if unsure of the aftermath of your actions and the impact they might have on the intricate balance of your relationships.

The journey to the chateau was enveloped in silence, a heavy curtain of unspoken thoughts that draped the car's interior. Each passing moment seemed to stretch in the weight of the quiet, the air thick with unexpressed emotions that lingered between you and Kiara.

You fought to hold back the tears, a silent war raging within, the ache in your chest a testament to the depth of the emotions that surged beneath the surface. The weight of recent events bore heavily on you, and the silent car ride provided a fleeting refuge where tears threatened to breach the dam of your composure.

Despite your efforts, a lone tear escaped, tracing a path down your cheek, a silent testament to the emotional storm that raged within. You discreetly wiped it away, hoping to shield your vulnerability, the weight of unspoken words and unshed tears weaving an intricate tapestry of inner turmoil.

The car rolled to a halt near the chateau's entrance, the engine's hum fading into the quiet ambiance of the estate. Kiara cast a glance your way, a wordless assurance conveyed through her eyes, a silent understanding that transcended the unspoken.

As you stepped out, the familiar sight of the chateau greeted you, its grandeur contrasting sharply with the weight of emotions carried within. The walk to the entrance felt longer than usual, each step echoing the turmoil within, the unspoken conversation hanging heavily between you and Kiara.

Approaching the door, the details of the chateau seemed to blur, your focus consumed by the emotional tempest raging within. With a deep breath, you turned the doorknob, the heavy wooden door creaking softly as it opened to welcome you inside.

Stepping into the foyer, the chateau enveloped you, the coolness of the air offering a stark contrast to the warmth of the emotional turmoil within.

As your friends turned to greet you, their expectant smiles faltered into a puzzled expression as they registered the turmoil etched on your face. Their eyes mirrored a blend of confusion and concern, a stark contrast to the jovial atmosphere that typically enveloped their gatherings.

A fleeting moment passed, each heartbeat echoing the unspoken as your friends exchanged glances, a silent communication that conveyed their awareness of the unspoken turmoil lingering beneath the surface. The chapter's end was marked by the unspoken tension, leaving an uncertain ambiance that hung between you, hinting at the complexities awaiting their reckoning.

taglist:  @ellesalazar, @champomiel, @vadinaleme, @kys4-20, @gills-lounge, @allsmilesreally7, @sublimepenguinpeach-blog, @sp00ky-spr1te, @bibliophilewednesday, @haroldpotterson, @i-love-rafe, @ellesalazar, @calmoistorm, @abundantxadorations, @fals3-g0d, @gillybear17, @oiiviagrande, @hockeybabe87, @augustlikesdeath, @wpdailyminimeta, @palmwinemami, @loxleys-blog, @ikisscline, @flyestvenustrapap, @ilovesteveharrngton, @ijustwanttoreadlols

[peggyao3]

Peggysuave's Masterlist

All of my fics are x AFAB!reader (reads like an ambiguous OC for my Feyd fics), include explicit sexual content, most are fairly dark and explore complex and morally grey relationships, some include dub-con/non-con themes ‼️

Finished ✅, Ongoing ✏️, Ao3 only 🔺

Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen | Henry Creel | Ominis Gaunt | Roman Godfrey | Ghostface | Frank Morrison

-> RELIC 🌌

✧Dreams are messages from the deep ✧ A woman from the unknown comes to Feyd in his dreams and his nights become his days as he flees to the dreamscape to escape the nightmares that haunt his waking hours. [Lucid Dreaming, Vulnerable Feyd, Female Rage] Series Masterlist ✏️

-> PREYD 🩸

Feyd calls his pet to his chambers for a monthly feast. [Dub-con, blood/period kink, knife "play", 2.2k] ✅

-> NIGHT CRAWLER 🍼

Feyd-Rautha welcomes a nocturnal visitor in his chambers, who is plagued by the symptoms of her artificially induced condition. [Dub-con, lactation kink, breast feeding, 9.7k] Part 1, Part 2, Part 3 ✅

-> HERE COMES THE SUN 🌞

Feyd-Rautha is the center of attention for an entire planet, but it counts for nothing because his favorite concubine isn't paying attention during the fight. How dare she ruin his birthday? [Jealousy, Mutual Pining, Marriage Proposal, 6.8k] ✅ Part 1, Part 2

-> HOLY SEED 🙏

Feyd so badly wants to plant his seed deep inside his wife's belly. [Breeding Kink without Breeding, Switch Feyd & FMC, 2.5k] ✅

-> THE ART OF EMPATHY 🪴

After the fall of House Harkonnen, an innocent poison flower is planted in their evil heart to teach them the art of empathy. [Bene Gesserit FMC, Soft!Feyd, Redemption, 6.3k] ✅🔺

-> KALEIDOSCOPE ⚔️

In a fight for freedom or death against the na-Baron Feyd-Rautha, his woman figures out how she feels about him. A poor devil wrapped in the skin of a beast. [Gore, Blood for Lube, Mutilation, Public Sex, 2.7k] ✅🔺

-> KINKTOBER 2024 🤤

Feyd-Rautha edition. Based on this prompt list. ✏️

-> CARDINAL SIN ✝️

You follow a trail of corpses to the rainbow room and find a bloodied angel. [Blood & Corpses, Fucking in the Rainbow Room, 4.2k] ✅🔺

-> YOU & ME 💑

“There's a second facility…” Dr. Brenner wheezed. “And what's inside of this facility?” “A woman… One woman.” “What is she capable of?” “…Anything.” Henry’s eyes blazed up with fresh hope. Greedy, frantic wicked hope. “I need to have her.” [Stockholm Syndrome, Quantum Physics, 37k] ✅🔺

-> HURTS LIKE A DISEASE 💔

An apathetic sociopath meets an insecure overthinker with anxiety. After an embarrassing incident at the cafeteria of Hawkins Lab, a man named Peter Ballard takes morbid fascination in your displayed insecurities and anxiety, because like him, you don't seem to fit in with the other humans and society. From now on, he wants to study and observe you. Unfortunately, you agree. [Mental Illness, problematic relationship, 55k] ✅🔺

-> LOCKED UP, CAN'T GET YOU OFF MY MIND ⛓️

When Dr. Brenner came to the conclusion that 001’s powers were uncontrollable, he decided to dispose of the useless subject who was proof of his failure as a scientist. Isolated in a cell on the minus third floor of Hawkins Lab, 001 is locked up to rot and be forgotten. You are hired to be his prison guard, his nurse, his orderly, responsible for 001’s health and well-being. The full-time job goes well for many years, until eventually your morals start crumbling away… [Power Imbalance, Forbidden Romance, Switch!Henry, 41k] ✅🔺

-> RUNNING IN THE NIGHT 🌃

You are a master of lucid dreaming, able to create all kinds of wondrous things and go on the most fantastic adventures in your sleep. One night, you receive a mysterious call in your dream. From then on, you find your mind being invaded by an uncanny, clingy, pushy intruder night after night, who tries to convince you that he is not just a product of your imagination, but a real person with telepathic powers. [Lucid Dreaming, Toxic Lovers, Jealousy, 50k] ✅🔺

-> OH, ASHES... 🌪️

On a stormy day, the ashes had whispered to you for the first time. Like shadowy fingertips, their call for help had ghosted over your heart and mind. Now, three years later, you finally fully accepted the quest that had been given to you – To liberate the ashes’ home dimension from the plague that had infested it, by summoning the surprisingly human parasite back to its own birth realm and taking him under your wing. [Burnt!Henry, Modern Setting, Master/Servant, 44k] ✅🔺

-> PEGGY'S PETER PÖRN COLLECTION 📚

A collection of smutty oneshots. Every chapter is a complete story. Porn with plot, porn with no plot, plot with porn, but there is always porn! <3 There will be dark themes, kinky shit, AUs and madness. So, beware! Warnings for each chapter. [BDSM, Stockholm Syndrome, Sex Toys, Angel!AU... 104k] ✅🔺

-> MILKY EYES 👁️

The unseeing gaze of the mysterious boy named Ominis seems permanently glued on you, and as weeks turn into months, you feel like he begins following you around the castle. Between unease and anger, you feel something else, so you confront him in a deserted hallway after dark. OR: Who the hell is Mark Markson? And what does his cabbage have to do with it? And most importantly, why are you and Ominis clapping cheeks all across Hogwarts? [Strangers to Lovers, Ambiguous Encounters, Dominis, 81k] ✅🔺

-> SAW YOU DANCING FROM ACROSS THE ROOM 💃

You are at a party, minding your own business, when suddenly you're being rudely scolded from behind. It turns out, the host of the party himself is scolding you and you have no idea why. Insulted and confused, you try to avoid him for the rest of the nigth. It doesn't go well. [Extremely dub-con, Dead Dove, Choking, Spanking, 6k] ✅🔺

Please beware, the fics below this point are REAL old and shitty in comparison 😔

-> LOOK WHAT YOU MADE ME DO 🔪

Danny Johnson is your best friend. But little do you know he wanted to be so much more than that from the day he first met you. Eventually you say something that gives him the final straw - He will make you love him back, one way or another. [Dub/Non-Con, Best Friends Trope, Jealousy, 11k] ✅🔺

-> BUNNY ON THE RUN 🐇

You're just an average girl who likes reading smutty fanfictions about dangerous psychos and serial killers and all of sudden you find yourself face to face with a serial killer in real life. Luckily, fanfictions have perfectly prepared you for situations likesuch. [Dub-Con, Knife Play, Anal Sex, Outdoor Sex, 4k] ✅🔺

-> TAKE A DIRTY PICTURE FOR ME 📸

An accidental boob slip gets you into a heated up situation. [Dub-Con, Non-Consensual Voyeurism, Light Bondage, 9.5k] ✅🔺

-> MIRROR MIRROR ON THE WALL 👊

Frank and you are college freshmen and roommates but not only do your personalities clash, you end up getting into heated disputes on a daily basis. One day you come home late and catch him red-handed masturbating. Unfortunately, Karma is a bitch and Frank gets his revenge on you just a little later. [Room Mates, Accidental Voyeurism, Hate Sex, 11.5k] ✅🔺

-> A FRENZIED ENCOUNTER 🏔️

You spawn in a place that you've never been to and encounter a man that you have never seen before. But he is not who you think he is. When he finally gets a hold of you things get more heated up than you ever imagined they could. [Dub-Con, Knife Play, Blowjobs, Playing Chase, 6.3k] ✅🔺

[b4ddprincess]

I hope that everyone who reads this feels a little bit of peace of mind. I know how unbearable it is to want to have the life of your dreams right now! That anxiety and despair won't help at all. Nor will continuing to do what doesn't resonate with you, seeing countless success stories and each time trying to do the same as them. It's always like that, right? That's what most of us do, it's like being in a loop, I say this because this year I became pure consciousness several times while trying to induce it, whether through lucid dreams, sleeping affirming, some of the times I just came out of the state of pure consciousness without affirming anything because I felt so peaceful (and it didn't last long either).

Exactly 4 days ago I almost to induce pure consciousness again while listening to this audio that leaves me super relaxed

https://youtu.be/DMQjwuU_4c4

(not that to induce pure consciousness you need something like that, just relax your body and take your focus off thoughts related to anxiety, just relax)

and I relaxed so deeply, I relaxed my body and mind while daydreaming but as soon as I started to feel the symptoms it was so intense, like falling, spinning and being sucked at the same time. and I focused so much on the symptoms that I ended up losing focus and consciousness returned to 3D.

but I remembered when I was a beginner in all this and I read a blog (if I find the link I'll put it here for you)

https://at.tumblr.com/princess200417/697183954837569536/h6gg9e7y98bg

in which the blogger said the following

"Sit down or lay down in the most comfortable position to you

Start breathing in and out slowly and imagine/picture a black space or a black hole or just a black image in general ,so this can help you in feeling closer to void (ofc it's not necessary)

Now start AFFIRMING I'm void or any other blanket void affirmation/affirmations of your personal preference"

She also said to make affirmations during the day, such as "Void is instant easy and simple ," "I am God," and I remembered that when I did this for the first time, I was a little sleepy. All I did was read this blogger's post again, lay down, and close my eyes. I didn't think about anything. All I did was affirm without forcing myself. The symptoms were so intense. However, I wasn't anxious or desperate.

So, I didn't care about the symptoms. I kept affirming. I remember that the way I induced pure consciousness was so fast. I just hadn't affirmed anything because there was nothing I wanted to manifest. Then I just affirmed that I was going to go out, and when I did, I realized that I was still asleep. Then I woke up. Some time later, I did it again and manifested that I was going to pass a very important test for me. And guess what? I passed all the tests.

And now remembering this I feel upset with myself, for having consumed too much and having let things get out of control and become a little difficult. Until a while ago I was telling myself that I would manifest my dream life, but I was always putting it off until tomorrow and it was always like that, 5 months went by while I was procrastinating. Now I realized how much time I wasted, and I feel upset with myself. But I remembered that I have already induced pure consciousness, what is getting in my way is despair and anxiety, but now I will control this and manifest my dream life, I will send you my success story very soon :)

I hope this is like a little warning to everyone who is on this journey, I know that everyone's circumstances may be as difficult as mine, but never give up. Try to stop this despair, focus on who you are. You are gods, the co-creator of your own reality, don't give up and don't put off until tomorrow what you can and have the power to do today!!!

congrats on inducing pure consciousness and passing your exams!! it may not be your dream life, but hey! you still have a testimony to share, and ik you'll share your dream life testimony soon!! 💗💗

just apply your reminders, and ik i'll see your next success story! don't stress urself either! 💞

[amourdivine]

𝐏𝐈𝐂𝐊 𝐀 𝐂𝐀𝐑𝐃 🤍 𝐇𝐎𝐖 𝐃𝐎𝐄𝐒 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐒.𝐏. 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐊 & 𝐅𝐄𝐄𝐋 𝐓𝐎𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐃𝐒 𝐘𝐎𝐔?

Hello, lovelies! This was a suggested reading from a dear anonymous.  It had a more romantic subtext, but I hope you take out what resonates & leave what doesn’t! If you have any more suggestions, so let me know! Feedback is always welcome. If you liked this reading, please consider booking a paid reading or tipping me at @ amourdivinetarot@gmail.com! xo. ♡

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paid readings are open, click here to know more

none of the images are mine unless stated otherwise

how to choose your pile.  take deep breaths for a few minutes & look at each and every one of the piles separately. see which one brings you to a feeling, a place or a memory. take your time and feel free to come back to it later.

♡ ♡ ♡     pick a card masterlist & information

disclaimer. this is a general reading for entertainment purposes. tarot is a divination tool & is not a substitute for medical and professional advice, nor is it meant to be taken as such. i do not take responsibility for any choice(s) made by you or others regarding my readings.

amourdivine. 2021 - 2023 © do not copy, redistribute or edit my content.

PILE ONE 💜

what do they think about you? ten of swords • eight of pentacles • six of cups.

I just heard Coldplay’s “The Scientist”, specifically the bit in which he sings “take me back to the start”. I wonder if you two had a fight, some sort of falling out or heavy disagreement. They think they’ve lost you - this is weighing heavy on their mind. They wish they could go back to when things were simpler, when things weren’t so difficult and anxiety-inducing. I think they feel a lot of shame and blame as well (I heard “blame game”) and I’m not going to lie, pile one, this person may be overthinking this connection, especially the way they see it. It feels heavy, like my chest and my throat are holding so much energy but nothing comes out. They’re not thinking clearly, despite thinking so much, it’s really difficult for them to “think” a way out of this situation you’re in. However, they do wish to work towards a peaceful resolution with you. They want to find a way to make things feel lighthearted and happy for the two of you again. This person could also be listening to a lot of heavy/sad songs, because so many of them are coming through to me. They’re experiencing a lot of self-hatred and very difficult emotions are going through them. They’re mourning some kind of happy ending, but they’re still willing to salvage the relationship if that's something you also desire.

how do they feel towards you? the empress • ace of swords • page of pentacles.

Gosh, there’s so much love here. They not only miss you, but they want to talk to you… to ask you how to work this out. They just want it to work it out between you two, pile one. Even if it’s difficult, like I mentioned in the previous section, they only want you. They don’t see anyone else for them. They don’t want to let you go, to lose you. It’s why their mind is so foggy and so clouded with poor judgment, they feel a lot of despair over the thought of losing the love you two have and shared. If your connection ended, they’re still not over it - they’re refusing to move on, simply because in their heart, they’ve decided it’s you. And I don’t think they’ve fully voiced it out just how much they want you, but they intend to do so. No matter how painful this situation has become, they hold some sort of hope that you’ll want to work things out with them too. They love you in a pure, devoted way and know how unique, how beautiful this connection is.

channeled messages: “i hate myself for what i did to you”, “i can’t forget you”, “you’re beautiful”, runaway, empty roads, highways, road trips, memories, polaroid pictures, “i wish things were easier”, “you betrayed me”, burning bridges, “do you still love me?”, deja vu.

channeled song: ghostin’ by Ariana Grande.

PILE TWO 🩷

what do they think about you? the magician • the lovers • the world

I couldn’t name a more beautiful spread. They put you on a pedestal, sort of - this person sees all that you are and they’re amazed. They admire you, they love you and they can’t see anyone else but you. This person’s got heart eyes when they look at you, maybe their eyes sparkle - pay attention next time you speak to them in person. Although they may wonder if they’re good enough for you, this person truly, deeply is inspired by you. It’s possible this is a friend of yours who’s crushing on you and vice-versa, but neither one of you is willing to admit it yet. This is a dreamy vibe, even, I feel like I’m immersed in Piscean energy. Maybe one of you is Neptune dominant or has Pisces in 1st. It’s the feeling of a high school crush, the intense, beautiful and almost soul-crushing one, but the kind of connection that has a lasting impact. Even if you haven’t known this person for a long time, they are eager to know more about you, all the little things that you do and say are stuck in the back of their mind. They don’t take it for granted. You’re extremely important to them, regardless of the nature of this relationship, you’re someone they want around.

how do they feel towards you? three of cups • five of wands • nine of swords.

They’re anxious, because they’ve got some heavy competition. Even if they see all these positive qualities in you, this person is afraid they’ll ruin the friendship by risking it. So many people are interested in you, that they’re afraid of rejection, afraid of all the people vying for your attention and sometimes, they just wish they could get rid of these feelings already. It’s possible there’s a 3rd party situation going on - either you or them could be in a committed relationship and there’s a lot of guilt and anxiety involved. You’re this person’s wish come true, but they don’t know what to do. They’re stuck in their head about it, fantasizing about coming towards you, talking to you and not feeling so insecure or jealous when they see you with someone else. I got the vivid imagery of someone seeing their crush talking to someone else at a party and being almost soul crushed by the fact that they’re so afraid of approaching the other. It’s giving me fanfiction vibes (in the best way possible, I promise). I’m almost sorry for this person because they’re so blindsided by their pessimism that they can’t fully see a way into being with you, no matter how much they want to. They know they need to make a move before they lose you for good, though.

channeled messages: “i’m so sick of love songs”, “i just want to talk to you”, instagram, DM’s, subtle flirting, “are you alone tonight?”, crush, “i feel invisible”, insecurity, jealousy, bonfire party, college life, “give me back my jacket”, inside jokes.

channeled song: Are You Bored Yet? by Wallows ft. Clairo.

PILE THREE 💖

what do they think about you? eight of cups • six of cups • the devil.

“Gone for good”, I just heard that. My playlist started playing sad breakup songs too, it’s honestly a little heartbreaking and quite bittersweet. This person thinks, well, they know you’ve left them behind and you seem done with them. You left them and they’re triggered. They’ve got so much going on in their head, always filled with “what ifs”. Your connection has turned sour and they think you wanted to pursue something better for yourself, something that didn’t trigger the both of you so much. I feel like this connection may have turned toxic, so they know you needed to leave, but nonetheless, they’re grieving, they’re sour and bitter. I don’t know if this person was heavily immature towards you or even disrespectful, but you left them on a chokehold because they didn’t expect you to simply walk away so easily. I don’t think it’s been easy for either one of you. I’m more so feeling a situationship or a friendship kind of vibe here, not a full, official commitment. Everything they see in you is almost a projection of their worst fears. All your worst traits mirror back to them, calling them to do some soul deep healing. I saw the Death card in the back of my mind, so I think this person knows it’s time to move on, to let you go, but they’re still obsessing over this ending you’ve had and it’s possible they lurk on your social media. It’s not an evil or malicious energy, but they’re not in a good headspace to talk or see you right now.

how do they feel towards you? two of swords • knight of cups • ten of wands.

Sometimes they love you, they miss you. Sometimes they just hate everything that came to be about the two of you. They’re tired, overburdened by their feelings, so sick of feeling so much and nothing at the same time. This person can’t really pinpoint exactly what they feel for you, but I got nauseous and almost sick to my stomach? I think they just wish they could erase this pain forever, but sometimes, they wish they could get some closure from you as well. It’s possible they wish they could give you some closure as well. All these messy feelings are taking their time in this person’s heart and body, but I think this connection, as triggering as it may have been, has brought up a lot of things back into the surface. Regardless of how they feel about you, it all ties back to their wounds, their feelings and themselves. I got some heavy Scorpio feelings in the last section and now I’m getting some Libra - I feel like those were significant energies and placements for your pile. This person’s not only heartbroken but almost… burnt out by everything that went down. They’re slowly trying to heal, to let go and forgive, but they’re not having the easiest time. I don’t think they’re “evil eyeing” you in any way, but I also think some distance will do the both of you some good. I feel like Spirit wants to emphasize how good this ending will be for you.

channeled messages: “you deserve better”, “i want to go back to who i was, mental health, physical health, “get over it”, 777, friends with benefits, messing around, fuck around and find out, taylor swift, moved on, finally, second chances, “i was a second option”, simply unrequited.

channeled song: Berenstein by The Band CAMINO | extra: Favourite Song by Tim Chadwick.

PILE FOUR 🩵

what do they think about you? the magician • ace of cups • six of swords.

You’re so nurturing, healing and magical. This person sees you as some sort of fairy, a beautiful, wholesome person who’s got so much love to give and to receive. Even the song that started playing is one of my favorites, a very healing and soft one. They see you as a safe person, an Earth angel, someone who’s almost like their lucky charm. The vibes here aren’t only romantic - they fit for friendships and familial relationships too. They’ve got a lot of fond memories and stories of you. I see someone going through a photo album and laughing to themselves in joy. This person sees a lot of good things in you and you’ve given them some sort of renewed faith in connections and humanity. They know you’ve been through a lot - they see you’re still healing. Every now and then, they catch glimpses of moments when you’re not feeling so good, but they still see your potential and growth nonetheless. I think your words and presence calm this person down. They value your advice immensely, all your words of wisdom and encouragement. I feel like Gemini and Leo are significant placements for this pile - I got the Strength card in the back of my mind, with the woman caressing the lion in the card. You bring calm and softness to this person’s life.

how do they feel towards you? queen of pentacles • ace of pentacles • two of wands.

I heard “wife you up”, lol. If this is a romantic connection, this person wants to offer you a deeper form of commitment - in whatever way that means for your connection. I feel like this person is smitten by you, even if you’re friends, you’re their closest, most prized friend. They’re making plans for something bigger, something greater between the two of you. This person views you as someone they could have ultimate success in every way, someone trustworthy and someone they intend on making accommodations for to fit in their life. It’s so soft and sweet, I see a woman arranging and rearranging pillows in a soft-looking bedroom to make sure her guests will be comfortable during their stay. I think they’re making room for you in their heart and mind, even their home as well. Maybe they haven’t told you, but they’re giddy to have met you and to spend more time with you. If this person proposes to you soon, please don’t tell them I told you! I’m not trying to ruin their plans, but let me say your connection has some really sweet, lovely surprises along the way. If you get engaged though, let me know, pile four. I’m really happy for you!

channeled messages: “fight for you”, “let me love you”, acts of service, bouquets, rainy days, “put your head on my shoulder”, “it’s okay to cry”, “i want to be there for you”, “you don’t have to pretend with me”, cupping someone’s face in your hands, comfort food, hugs, ice cream, care bears, pisces, cancer, healing, therapy, inner child. 

channeled song: Room Service by Holly Humberstone | extra: Break For You by Valley.

amourdivine. 2021 - 2023 © do not copy, redistribute or edit my content.

[strniohoeee]

Hidden In The Shadows Pt. 3

Read part 1 and part 2 here

Pairing: Matt Sturniolo X Female Reader

Synopsis: It’s been a month and all Y/N keeps hitting is dead end after dead end. Not only that but she seems to have formed a friendship with the strange boy. Will this hinder her research??

Warnings⚠️: Nothing really tbh, anxiety inducing parts, talks of cults briefly, psycho Matt, oh and one last thing SMUT, submissive-ish Matt??

Songs for imagine: Lonesome Town- Ricky Nelson and This Haunted House- Loretta Lynn

⚠️This is an 18+ imagine so minors do not interact, or do??⚠️

Taglist: @gamermattsgf @lacysturniolo @franticroads @creamoncreamoncream2 @melanch0lybby @anlqq @cindylcuwho @nicksmainbitch @riverwritez @s7urnfilms (idk I might’ve missed some people🥺)

There’s a place where lovers go

To cry their troubles

And they call it Lonesome Town

Where the broken hearts stay

The rain trickled down the window as the pen in my hand ghosted over the papers scattered all over the small desk. My eyes glued to the rain, watching the dirt become mud and the grass drown.

Vigorously tapping the pen back and forth on the paper clad desk as my leg bounced quickly. Many thoughts running through my head, but none that could be placed properly.

I was a full month into my research and for some reason I was way more confused now than before stepping foot into this town. I thought I found out a lot more, but it’s either dead ends or more weird shit going on.

I was pretty much hanging out with Matt everyday, it took a while for his parents to warm up to me; but the more he brought me around the more they got comfortable.

What royally sucked was that I was becoming so close to them that I felt weird asking any questions about the dark history of this town. I truly felt bad and like I was hiding something from them.

Professor Wayne wrote to me pretty much everyday, and all I could tell him was how nervous I was to dig further. Scared to unearth something that might actually keep me trapped here.

Letting out a long sigh I slid back from the desk letting out a deep breath I didn’t know I was holding in. Slipping my slippers on, I shuffled down to the kitchen.

Opting once again for a peanut butter and jelly sandwich with some water and some leftover popcorn from the previous night.

Sitting alone in silence at the table I let my mind wander. Glancing over at the back door as the rain pattered against it. I was feeling pretty useless right about now.

It’s so crazy how you can go from feeling invincible to pretty much a useless piece of shit. I felt like I had no purpose here. Endlessly wasting my time day in and day out.

I wasn’t sure if it was the shitty weather that made me feel this way, or if I was actually wasting my time. Rolling my eyes I took another bite of my sandwich. Blinking slowly as I chewed the thick piece that was in my mouth.

I used this time to look around the kitchen. I mean this was in fact an old house with…. I’m to presume many previous owners. Smiling gently my brain painted the image of an innocent family spending their holidays in this kitchen. Laughing, feasting, talking…. It’s so crazy how things come and go, including people.

My eyes scanned in front of me, and it was only then that I saw the gold reflection of a doorknob. My eyes lit up! How did I forget about the basement? A whole month here and I never once thought to check the basement.

Washing down the last bit of my sandwich with my water I placed my dishes in the sink before walking over to the door.

Grabbing the door knob I twisted and pulled, but to my surprise I was shocked by a thud. The door was locked. Shaking my head I walked over to the kitchen light switch flicking it on and I walked back over to the door.

My eyes squinted once I saw that not only was the door locked but the whole door had been painted over. A shitty light green might I add. It’s like when you move into an old apartment and maintenance repaints but they painted over light switches, the breaker box and even bugs….

“Ughhh everytime I think I find something it’s another dead end” I say out loud banging a flat hand against the door

But then I figured I could ask Matt to somehow break this door down for me. Sighing I dragged my feet back to the kitchen table sinking into the wooden chair. I threw my head back and groaned, rubbing my hands over my face

My head shot up as I looked at the kitchen walls…. That same shitty green color. My brows immediately furrowed and my back straightened.

To the naked eye this seems normal, but I remembered something. The listing didn’t show the kitchen being this color.

Scooting back harshly I bolted up the stairs rounding the corner as I ran into my room. Breathing heavy as I opened safari on my laptop.

Opening Zillow I went to the listing for this house, my eyes scanned the page before getting to the end.

“Last updated by realtor on 05/13/2023”

Rummaging through the papers on my desk I found my phone, opening up the phone calls I went back to May. I called Beaufort on May 16th…..3 days after the pictures were updated on the house.

Two and a half weeks is more than enough time to paint evidence over…. Especially incriminating evidence. I swear the hairs on the back of my neck were standing up.

Opening a new tab I decided to search up this address and literally the only thing that came up was the Zillow page. This house is so fucking old and not a single thing pops up on it. The next best place would be the public library and lord knows if some weird shit went on in this house all those files would be burned or blocked out on the database.

Slamming my laptop screen down I ran my hands through my hair. I opted to go back downstairs. Swinging every drawer and cabinet door open in hopes I’d find the basement door key.

No surprise I didn’t find it, but I decided to take a knife and cut through the paint like that one scene in Coraline. And to make it even creepier I’m sure my fate would be ending up like poor Coraline….

Pulling and rattling at the door knob some more, I kicked the door once I realized I couldn’t get it open. And this wasn’t something I could go to Beaufort with….. I probably shouldn’t even be going to Matt with this, but whatever.

Feeling defeated, I decided to shower and relax for a bit. About two hours later my phone rang, and it was Matt calling from his bedroom phone. Can’t believe this guy still has a landline…. They really live like it’s the 80s here.

“Hello Matt” I said placing the phone to my ear

“Hi darling” he says on the other line, playfully rolling my eyes at the pet name

“You rang?” I asked as I looked at my nails

“Ahh yes, well you see I’m actually relatively bored this fine evening. Want to hang out?” He asked me

“I’m pretty bored myself. I’d love to hang out” I said as I sat up

“Alright sweetheart I’ll be over in like an hour, sounds good?” He asked me

“Yeah sounds great” I stated to him

Matt was so funny and awkward you could tell he didn’t really speak to girls because he didn’t even know how to end a call. He’d just hang up and I’d usually crack up laughing as I shook my head.

I decided to clean up my room. Hiding my paperwork and laptop under the bed. Thank god there was a skirting around it to hide everything or else I’d be royally screwed.

Sitting at my desk I saw Matt flicked his bedroom light to let me know he was coming over. I got up from my seat and headed downstairs. I held the door open as Matt made a run for it in the rain.

“FAST FAST” I yelled to him as he hopped onto the porch

“It’s raining cats and dogs out there” he said slipping his boots off at the front door

“Ew…you talk so old southern style” I said scrunching my nose up

“Well…” he said cocking his eyebrows at me while pointing down his body

“Sorry! Sometimes I forget you really are southern” I said laughing

“It’s alright darling, hope you’re hungry I brought dinner” he said holding up a huge lunch box.

“I actually am” I said nodding my head as we made our way to the kitchen table

“Okay so mama made her famous roast, with some carrots, corn and grilled potatoes” he said as he pulled the Tupperware out of the lunch box

“That sounds sooo good, tell your mom I said thank you” I told him

“Will do little lady” he said winking at me

I grabbed us some soda as he set our dishes out full of food. As we sat eating quietly he gaze often jumped over mine whenever he saw me look at him. I found it adorable…he was so nervous.

“I hope I didn’t put your mom out, you know like having her make extra food for me” I said cutting some meat

“Oh no, no worries…. You see mama thinks…. Well mama thinks we’re more than….more than just friends” he replies getting a bit shy and blushing

“Oh.. have you never brought a girl home before?” I asked, mentally smacking myself in the face for asking such a rude question

“Not since little suzie….but we were like 9. Swore we was gonna grow up, get married, have a family” he said giggling a bit

“And what happened to that?” I asked him

“Ahh her family decided to move right before high school started…never saw her again” he says swallowing thickly as he blinked rapidly

“I’m sorry Matt” I said taking a sip of my drink

“Oh it’s alright, it was just a foolish thing to think” he says laughing

“Since her…has there been no one else?” I asked him

“No. There’s no real time for that round these parts either you grow up as neighbors and end up marrying or you stay solo forever” he says shrugging his shoulders

“Seems a bit outdated” I replied back

“It is, but it's just the way it is” he says back

“But anyways, how are you liking Oklahoma so far?” He asks me as he sips his drink

“Other than missing my family and friends, I’m thoroughly enjoying it here” I said to him

“Do you plan on going back? Or having them visit?” He retorts

“I was thinking maybe for the holiday season they could come here, there’s plenty of room here for them” I said to him

“Yeah there is” he says nodding his head

“And speaking of plenty of space I remembered there’s a basement here. I can probably set a few friends up down there, except there’s one problem” I replied looking over my shoulder at the door

“What’s that?” He asks eagerly

“It seems to be locked and I can’t find the key, do you think there’d be an extra somewhere in this town?” I said looking back at him

“Oh you know the basement keys are universal, way back when they figured as a small town it would be easier to make the keys universal so if someone lost theirs then they could call their neighbors” he says as he cuts a piece of meat, as I began to have a lightbulb moment

“You don’t say” I reply sliding my tongue over my teeth

“Except only issue is as of recently due to termites and water damage the chairman’s from the towns had gone into every home, painting over the doors and locking them while also confiscating any keys. Just so that no ones tempted to use the basement…..that would be many lawsuits if something went wrong” he says looking up at me

“Ohhhh I see, wow that sucks” I said to him, mentally sighing in defeat. I literally could not stop hitting dead ends and it was killing me

After dinner Matt had helped me clean the kitchen up and helped me pack his mothers Tupperware away.

“I can’t thank you enough for dinner” I say handing him the last container

“It’s my pleasure darling” he says winking once again at me

“Wanna come up to my room?” I asked him as I dried my hands

“Yeah sure” he replied placing the lunch box down

We headed up to my room, turning the light on Matt plopped down on my bed letting out a loud sigh. Fluffing my pillow up he laid it against the headboard while leaning back

“I know I don’t have much here especially no TV, but I do have some books I bought from back home” I say to him shrugging my shoulders

“I wouldn’t mind reading” he says nodding his head

As I open my mouth to reply the power suddenly goes out

“What the fuck” I say out loud

“Anytime it rains even an ounce the power goes out. Faulty wires and old houses” Matt says laughing

“How do we fix it?” I asked him

“We don’t, it usually goes back up in like 3 hours. I’ll run to my house and grab some candles keep it bright until the power goes back on, and I’ll even keep you company too” he says smiling at me

“That sounds nice” I say to him nodding

As quickly as Matt left to get some candles, it was as quickly as he came back. He had a small duffle bag and he pulled out many candles and a box of matches.

Removing his sweater and placing it down to dry on the door knob, my eyes couldn’t peel away from how nicely that white shirt sat on his body….

Matt and I lit a shit ton of matches all over my room, it was now warm lit and very…..intimate might I add.

“I hope this is good enough for you” Matt says blowing out the last match

“Oh no this is perfect I honestly prefer candlight over artificial light” I said waving him off

He laughed and fluffed the pillow up before laying on my bed again. Propping himself up against my headboard as he crossed his legs over.

I sat next to him with my back against the headboard as well. Grabbing my copy of Speak by Laurie Halse Anderson I relaxed my shoulders before opening the book to where I last left off.

“I hope you don’t mind I started the book already” I said looking over at Matt

“Doesn’t bother me” he says nodding for me to go on

“My room belongs to an alien. It is a postcard of who I was in fifth grade. I went through a demented phase when I thought that roses should cover everything and pink was a great color” I read aloud as my finger ghosted the rough paper

Stopping I looked up, taking my bottom lip into my mouth and sinking my teeth into the flesh.

“Isn’t it crazy how fast we change” I said chewing the already shredded skin on the inside of my mouth

“I’m not even sure I know what change is” Matt whispers

Looking over at him I watch the warm light reflect against his blue eyes. And for a split second I swear I can see his past in them. Sad….lonely….misunderstood…..

“I’m just following the norm here. I’m becoming what every man becomes. I’m growing, but am I changing? I’m not when I’m the exact same as the ancestors who came before me” he states swallowing thickly

“Have you ever considered leaving?” I ask him

“And go where?” He asks

“You could always come to Vegas….with me” I state in a whisper

“But all I know is Pleasant Town” he replies shaking his head

“Well now you know me, I mean we could at least visit I can show you where I’m from like you did with me” I say smiling at him

“I’d like that a lot actually” he says nodding at me

But suddenly he grows cold and immediately his attitude changes

“That’s just a fairytale though. I belong here on the farm and taking care of my parents” he says firmly

“And no one’s saying you can’t do that, but at least vacation for a little bit” I say to him

Shutting my book I place it on the night stand as I give Matt my full attention.

“You can experience so many new things! See and do things you’ve never done before” I say to him tapping him on his knee

“Like what?” He asks laughing

“You can go to the Las Vegas strip, we can go shopping and we can go see where Elvis Presley used to perform, shit we could even get you a one night stand. I mean it’s Vegas you know what they say… what happens in Vegas stays in Vegas” I say to him giggling

“Ehhhh” he says sounding hesitant

“Okay what about that plan do you not want to do?” I ask him

“The one night stand…. I’m not experienced with women” he says shyly

“What? You? You’re telling me in this whole town you’ve never been with a single girl?” I asked him genuinely shocked

“No…” he says once again shyly

“That’s alright, well let’s see you’ve at least kissed a girl right?” I ask him as he shakes his head no

“Held hands?” I asked raising my eyebrow and he shakes his head no once again

“Uhhh innocent flirting?” I ask

“No” he says laughing a bit

“That’s alright! We can…we can get you practicing now and this way you’ll be a champ in Vegas” I say laughing

“Practice?” He asks looking a bit unsure

I grab his hand and interlock our fingers as I look back up at him

“Holding hands… check!” I say smiling

Turning more towards him I place my hand on his cheek as I look into his eyes

“Can I kiss you?” I ask genuinely

“Yes ma'am” he whispers out breathlessly against me

Leaning in I peck his lips quickly

“What I did you’re also going to do okay?” I say to him and he nods

Leaning in again we both press our lips together, pulling away Matt looks at me before attaching his lips to mine again.

Shuffling over I straddled his lap as we pulled away, and Matt looked at me with doe eyes as his chest rose and fell rapidly. A dazzling blush across his nose and cheeks and pupils blown wide.

“Is this okay?” I ask him and to this he nods

“Darlin I don’t know what I’m doing, but just know I’m enjoying myself” he says to me as he licks his lips

“I can teach you some things, and don’t be afraid to stop me. We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to” I say to him

“Okay” he says nodding vigorously

Removing my shirt I look over to Matt

“You can touch me you know” I say to him

“I don’t know how” he replied back

Grabbing his hands I placed them on my breast and his mouth hung open. Gently caressing them I moan against his touch.

It wasn’t long before Matt’s shirt was off and I was peppering kisses along his neck and down his chest. My bare chest against his warm skin. His breathing became rapid as his hands traced along my back.

“Please don’t stop” he breathes out as I look up at him

Raking my nails up and down his body I leave open mouth kisses along his warm skin as his hips buckle up against me.

“Pretty girl I need more” Matt moans out as his brows furrowed

Letting my hand caress over his growing bulge his hips fly up as he moans. Covering his face in the crook of his elbow.

“You don’t have to cover yourself for me” I say to him as I rub my hands up his torso

“I’ve just never done anything like this before I don’t want to embarrass myself” he says to me

“Listen my love I’m taking the lead tonight so there’s no need to feel pressured or embarrassed, and if at any point you want to stop we can” I say to him kissing his cheek

“Okay” he says swallowing thickly

Ghosting my fingers over his large buckle I unhook his belt, unbuttoning his jeans and sliding the zipper down. I help him slide out of his jeans. Tossing them somewhere behind me on the floor

To my surprise he was in briefs rather than boxers which left little to the imagination. My cunt was actually clenching on nothing at the sight.

Ghosting my nails in between the waistband of his underwear. He lied against the mattress moaning and twitching. Begging to be released

Sliding out of my bottoms I straddled him once again. The only thing separating us was our underwear. Sliding up and down against him we both let out a load sigh

“Holy shit this feels so good darlin” he moans out looking up at me

Matt moves his hands up my thighs and to my breasts, lightly squeezing them as I moan and shutter against his touch.

“Kiss me please” he says desperately

Leaning down I kiss Matt, grinding down against him harder causing him to open his mouth. Which allowed me to slip my tongue in. For a moment it took him a while to get the hang of it, but soon after our tongues were fighting for dominance. The kiss was hot and messy and so so needy.

Releasing myself from him I leaned back, scooting back I slid his briefs down. His hard dick springing up as I bit my lip

“God you’re so hot” I said to him

“Oh sweetheart no one’s ever called me that” he says biting his lip

“I’ll scream it from the hilltops if I have to” I responded to him

Sliding my underwear to the side I gently rubbed the tip of his dick along my cunt. Both of our moans syncing together.

“Are you ready?” I ask him

“Yes maam” he says back grabbing onto my hips

Slowly I began to sink down on his length. The burn sent shivers up my spine. Both of our mouths hang open as my toes curl. Completely bottoming out I let out a load moan

Slowly bouncing up and down on his dick I allow him to get adjusted to the feeling.

“Holy shit Oh my god” he moans out as he watches me bounce up and down

“You feel so good” I moan out as I begin to grind down on him

“Oh my goddd” he whines out as I begin to feel his thighs shake

Bringing my hand down I rub my clit as I bounce on his dick. My thighs shake as I bring myself closer to the edge.

“Fuck Matt I’m so close to cumming” I whine out as my breathing becomes heavy

“Me too, oh godddd” he moans out as his torso begins to lift off the bed every now and then

Leaning forward I grind up and down, allowing my clit to massage against his pelvic bone. Without warning Matt opens his mouth and begins to swirl his tongue around my nipple, sucking and licking like his life depended on it

“Fuckkkk” I moan out clenching down on him

Within seconds I’m cumming all over his dick, shaking and moaning as I clench down on him. Continuing to ride out my high I feel Matt twitch

“I think I’m going to cum?” He moans out

Once again I feel his thighs shake and his lower abdomen tighten. And I hop off and just as I do Matt’s cumming all over his lower stomach. Whining and moaning as he comes down from his high

Heavy breaths and groans as he involuntarily twitches.

“Feeling okay cutie?” I ask him as I pet his hair and pull him closer

“That felt amazing, I’ve never felt that good in my life” he says looking up at me with puppy dog eyes

“And in time it only gets better” I say laying a kiss on his lips

We laid there for a little while talking and kissing and finally we decided to get up and get cleaned. Laying back down I read some more of my book. Until eventually we fell asleep and most candles had gone out by this point.

We fell asleep snuggled together, and at some point in the night we shifted opposite ways. But at around 2am I got up to use the bathroom.

Rubbing the sleep from my eyes I cracked my neck and back before standing up. Lightly walking from my side to around the bed, but before I could finish coming around I had stepped on something

Silently wincing I looked down, seeing some type of metal I assumed it was Matt’s belt buckle. Smiling and blushing to myself I bent down picking the item up, but to my surprise it was what felt like keys.

Running into the bathroom I shut the door, gently opening the shower curtain to let the moonlight come in through the window. I held the keys up. They looked pretty normal except for one.

It said “BASEMENT” on it and I blinked to make sure I wasn’t half asleep.

Peeing quickly I flushed the toilet and washed my hands. Sticking my head out of the bathroom I peaked over at Matt who was snoring peacefully.

Sighing I tip toed out of the bedroom and quietly down the stairs. I mean as quiet as I could….it was an old house. Lightly walking towards my kitchen thanking the lord for the moonlight coming in through my back door. I was able to see the basement door perfectly.

Sticking the key in lightly I turned it to the left, and heard a click. Silently cheering I turned the knob and opened the door surprisingly the door wasn’t creaky.

I figured I would go down , check it out real quick and go back upstairs. Placing the keys back where I found them.

Shutting the door behind me I felt for a light switch on the right side, and I flicked it on. In about three seconds I heard the faint buzz of a warm light turn on.

Stepping down the stairs gently I turned the corner. The basement looked really nice actually. It was pretty well kept for how old the house was. I didn’t see any water damage nor any termites, but hey who knows.

Walking in a bit more I saw large desks with papers everywhere and bulletin boards covered in papers and a lot of dust….

Walking over to the area I blew some dust around and even wiped it with my fingers. Looking to my right there was a lamp. Testing the odds it actually turned on illuminating the area for me a bit more.

My eyes squinted trying to read everything. My eyes scanned the bulletin board.

“Animal slayings”

“Cult rituals”

“Witch craft like sacrifices”

My eyes went wide. I finally was finding something… and the whole time it was in my house?

I looked to my right and that’s when I got a little bit nervous

“Suzie Buchanan, age 14, found slain in her father’s farm house”

Surely this couldn’t be thee Suzie Matt knew……

I mean that’s recent years? How would that even be in this house? I was becoming anxious with dread.

Looking down at the table I looked at the newspapers closely.

“Thomas Sturniolo released from prison”

“Thomas Sturniolo still being questioned about cult killings”

“Sturniolos back in town?” One read

These were all newspapers not from this town…. Something deeper was going on here….someone knew more than they were saying. There’s an outside source here and I haven’t known this whole time.

Flipping open the newspaper my eyes scanned the text.

“Thomas Sturniolos home 27 Field Drive has been purchased by his grandson”

27 Field Drive was this house….. my hands began to shake as I realized what was going on. This whole time I’ve been living in Thomas Sturniolos house. And there’s someone who knows about me…. My heart began to speed and I rummaged through more newspapers

“A new generation of Sturniolos” one newspaper read

Opening up the newspaper my eyes scanned the page

“Jimmy Sturniolo has now purchased 26 Field Drive, directly across the street from his estranged grandfather's home located at 27 Field Drive” it read

“What the fuck?” I whispered as a cold sweat began to take over

Scanning along the page some more

“Jimmy Sturniolo avoids questions from sources asking about his grandfather. Seen here with one of his sons Matthew Sturniolo covering his face” I read

My heart was thumping out my chest as I let the papers fall from my hands.

You know those scenes in movies where the protagonist is just standing still as the world around her moves and her hearing has gone clouded?? Yeah that’s me right now

Unbeknownst to Y/N Matt had snuck downstairs after realizing she was gone. Sinking down the stairs of the basement he watched the young woman shake in fear as she read the newspapers.

Shaking his head and mentally cursing himself out he quietly walked up behind her

I stood there in fear not really sure what to do. Pretend like nothing happened and wait till tomorrow morning to book it out of town, or book it out of town right now while Matt’s asleep??

Racking my brain for answers I stood there when suddenly I heard

“I’m so sorry” turning around slightly I was faced with Matt

“Wha-“ but before I could finish my sentence Matt charged at me

Grabbing the back of my head and holding a chloroform covered rag against my nose and mouth

And suddenly it all went

BLACK

The End

Don’t kill me for the cliffhanger😏. Had to spice it up a bit. Now I will be working the next four days, so I will try and work on Part 4 a little bit and hopefully have it up soon for you guys. I love you all so dearly 🥹🖤🖤

-J💅🏽

[gothhabiba]

hi i just saw some of ur posts on anti-psychiatry and then kept reading more on ur blog about what it is. for the most part i agree with what you've said about how capitalism uses psychiatry to designate people who are bad/abnormal and how it aligns itself w/ misogyny, racism, and so on. with that said i think i have some similar concerns/questions as another asker about what this means for those who do/would suffer even in a non-capitalist society, even if we didn't ascribe a specific label to X symptoms. if we are opposed to psychiatry, what are the options for people today who are suffering and want help? are you opposed to psychopharmaceuticals and therapy? i dont mean to ask this in a confrontational/accusatory way, i'm just new to this and genuinely curious

There are a few different parts to your question & so there are a few different angles to approach it from—

are you opposed to psychopharmaceuticals and therapy?

If this means "are anti-psych writers and activists opposed to individuals seeking treatment that they personally find helpful," then, no—a couple posts in my psychiatry tag do clarify this.

If it means "are there anti-psych critiques of psychopharmaceuticals and therapy," then, yes. Keep in mind that I'm not a neurobiologist or otherwise an expert on medications marketed as treatments for mental illnesses, but:

The evidence for the effectiveness of SSRIs in particular is sort of non-existent—even many psychiatrists who promote the biomedical model of mental illness doubt their efficacy, and refer to the "chemical imbalance" theory that enforces their usage as "an outmoded way of thinking" or "a kind of urban legend—never a theory seriously propounded by well-informed psychiatrists." But promoting SSRIs (and corresponding "serotonin deficiency" theory of depression, despite the fact that no solid evidence links depression to low serotonin) is very profitable for pharmaceutical companies. Despite the fact that direct-to-consumer advertisements are nominally regulated in the U.S., the FDA doesn't challenge these claims.

Other psychotropic drugs, such as "antipsychotics" or "antianxiety" medication, shouldn't really be called e.g. "antipsychotics" as if they specifically targeted the biological source of psychosis. No biological cause of any specific psychiatric diagnosis has been found (p. 851, section 5.1). In fact, rather than "act[ing] against neurochemical substrates of disorders or symptoms," these medications "produc[e] altered, drug induced states"—but despite the fact that they "produce global alterations in brain functioning," they are marketed as if they had "specific efficacy in reducing psychotic symptoms." Reactions to these medications that don't have to do with psychosis or anxiety (blunted affect, akathisia) are dismissed as "side effects," as though they don't arise from the same global alteration in brain function that produces the "desirable" antianxiety/antipsychotic effect. This doesn't mean "psychiatric medication turns you into a zombie so you shouldn't take it"—it means that these medications should be marketed honestly, as things that alter brain function as a whole, rather than marketed as if they target specific symptoms in a way that they cannot do, in accordance with a biomedical model of mental illness the accuracy of which has never been substantiated.

Psychiatrised people also point out that meds are used as a tool for furthering and maintaining psychiatrists' control: meds that patients are hesitant about or do not want are pushed on them, while patients who desire medication are "drug-seeking" or trying to take on the role of clinician or something and will routinely be denied care. Psychiatrised people who refuse medications are "noncompliant" and prone to psychiatric incarceration, re-incarceration, or continued/lengthened incarceration.

As for therapy: there are critiques of certain therapies (e.g. CBT, DBT) as unhelpful, status-quo-enforcing, forcing compliance, retraumatising &c. There are also critiques of therapy as representing a capitalist outsourcing of emotional closeness and emotional work away from community systems that people largely don't have in place; therapy as existing within a psychiatric system that constrains how therapists, however well-intentioned, are able to behave (e.g. mandatory reporting laws); psychotherapy forced on psychiatrised people as a matter of state control; therapists as being in a dangerous amount of power over psychiatrised people and being hailed as neutral despite the fact that their emotions and politics can and do get in the way of them being helpful. The wealth divide in terms of access to therapy is also commonly talked about; insurance (in the U.S.) or the NHS (in England) may only pay for pre-formulated group workbook types of therapy such as DBT, while more long-form, free-form, relationship-focused talk therapy may only be accessible to those who can pay 100-something an hour for it.

None of these critiques make it unethical or something for someone to get treatment that they find helpful. It's also worth noting that some of these critiques may be coming from "anti-psych" people who criticise the sources of psychiatric power, and some of them may come from people who think of themselves as advocating for reform of some of the most egregious effects of psychiatric power.

if we are opposed to psychiatry, what are the options for people today who are suffering and want help?

This looks like a few different things at a few different levels. At its most narrow and individual, it involves opting out of and resisting calls for psychiatrisation and involuntary institutionalisation of individuals—not calling the cops on people who are acting strange in public, breaking mandatory reporting laws and guidelines where we think them likely to cause harm. It involves sharing information—information about antipsychiatry critiques of psychiatric institutions, advice about how to manage therapists' and psychiatrists' egos, advice about which psychiatrists to avoid—so that people do not blame themselves if they find their encounters with psychiatry unhelpful or traumatising.

At the most broad, it's the same question as the question of how to build dual power and resist the power of capitalism writ large—building communal structures that present meaningful alternatives to psychiatry as an institution. I think there's much to be learned here from prison abolitionists and from popular movements that seek to protect people from deportation. You might also look into R. D. Laing's Kingsley Hall experiment.

what does this mean for those who would suffer even in a non-capitalist society, even if we didn't ascribe a specific label to X symptoms?

It means that people need access to honest, reliable information about what psychotropic medications do, and the right to chuse whether or not to take these medications without the threat of a psychiatrist pulling a lever that immediately restricts or removes their autonomy. It means that people need to be connected to each other in communities with planned, free resources that ensure that everyone, including severely disabled people whom no one particularly likes as individuals, has access to basic resources. It means that people need to be free to make their own choices regarding their minds and their health, even if other people may view those decisions as disastrous. There is simply no defensible way to revoke people's basic autonomy on the basis of "mental illness" (here I'm not talking about e.g. prison abolitionist rehabilitative justice types of things, which must restrict autonomy to be effective).

Also, I've mostly left the idea of who this would actually be untouched, since my central argument ("psychiatry as it currently exists is part of the biomedical arm of capitalism and the state, and the epistemologies it produces and employs and the power it exerts are thus in the service of capitalism and the state") doesn't really rest on delineating who would and wouldn't suffer from whatever mental differences they have regardless of what society they're in. But it's worth mentioning that the category of "people who are going to suffer (to whatever degree) no matter what" may be narrower than some would think—psychosis, for instance, is sometimes experienced very differently by people in societies that don't stigmatise it. I see people objecting to (their interpretations of) antipsych arguments with things along the lines of "well maybe depression and anxiety are caused by capitalism, but I'm schizophrenic so this doesn't apply to me"—as though hallucinations are perforce more physically "real," more "biological," more "extra-cultural" in nature than something like depression. But the point is that positing a specific neurobiological etiology for any psychiatric diagnosis is unsubstantiated, and that capitalist society affects how every "mental illness" is read and experienced (though no one is arguing that e.g. hallucinations wouldn't always exist in some form).

[justpoliteconversations]

To Obtain [Yandere!Four x Isekai!Reader]

Teamwork is the purpose of the pack. But a hive is a thing of purpose.

Second part of the yandere series. This one is quite a bit spicier than my usual fair, so be warned. Also, it's longer because it has four (five) yanderes packed in there.

(Going to edit later. I'm too tired now to do it.)

Masterlist

Set-up: Comfort [Yandere!Chain + Isekai!Reader]

Sky Route

Four Route

TW: Choosing not to disclose. Read at your own discretion.

Disclaimer: Don't own The Legend of Zelda franchise. Linked Universe is the fan creation of jojo56830.

---

After that night (that wretched, nightmarish night), things had gone from uncomfortably tense to downright confusing very quickly. Especially where Four was concerned (or rather, where the damned Colors were concerned).

Red, for one, had become relentless in his pursuit of your company (a shy touch on the back of your hand. fingers brushing against yours. big, doughy eyes of glittering firelight pinning you from across the camp with their intensity). Going so far as to risk conflict (terrifying, bloody conflict. so vicious Green and Time had had to step in and physically separate them) between Blue and Twilight as he'd whined and pleaded for your attention. Leaning into your space, red-pink eyes watery, ears pinned back against his skull. Pressing his red splotched face and (deceptively strong) hands into any part of you he could reach (that Twilight allowed him to reach. tense as the wolf bastard was for reasons lost on you).

Blue would be following close behind Red (as always), the air around him sparking with purpose as he put himself squarely in Twilight's territory (too close to Wild. and most certainly too close to you). Steely blue eyes scanning, assessing, before narrowing in on Twilight and staying there unwaveringly (actively provoking. so unlike his usual reactionary aggression). The twist of his thin lips firm and brimming with determination. For what, you weren't sure, but it set you on edge regardless, as though every one of your instincts were telling you to run (run, run, run, run, run-).

Vio was as distant as he always was (planning or unbothered you couldn't be sure), but you swore you could sometimes feel his sharp, calculated glance upon you (so sharp it felt like a scalpel grazing along vulnerable nerves. slowly peeling back your prickled skin with blood-chilling precision. distinctively Four. wholly Vio. entirely unwelcome). Whether you were sitting next to the fire, entertaining Wind or helping Wild tame his tangle of bed head, they always seemed to find you (even when you couldn't see. especially when you couldn't see).

Green was an enigma in his entirely. Rarely did he seem to play you much mind, and yet he seemed to be in your space more and more these days (even moreso than Red, and that's a truly anxiety inducing thought). Seated next to you at dinner time (how did he manage to get past Twilight? Wild? how did it become just the two of you, with and yet separate from the group?), walking close to you when the group traveled (how'd he get passed Hyrule? clingy and overbearing as he was?). And yet he never actively engaged you besides a slight smile or a brief glance in your direction (confusing. ringing wrong, wrong, wrong in the back of your mind).

Only Four seemed to have remained relatively unchanged. Still as polite and courteous with you as he's always been. Occasionally he got a little bossy (especially where equipment maintenance was concerned), but it was nothing unusual for the small smith and Wild got it even worse than you. So, you weren't overly concerned with him. Four was fine. He was lovely, in fact (a breath of fresh fucking air compared to the clusterfuck that was everyone else's crazy asses). It was just those damned Colors of his.

You'd like nothing more than to tell Four about how strange they've been acting, but in the end you didn't. There was no point honestly. For all they (Four and the Colors) seemed to share a common body, Four wasn't there when things got strange. There wasn't anything he could do when he didn't even exist at the same time they did. So why would you put that stress on the one guy who seemed to have his shit together? When he couldn't even do anything about it?

Because surely he wouldn't have allowed these types of behaviors to continue as they had if he had control of them. Not Blue's aggression. Not Vio's cruel disregard. Not Red's smothering. Not even Green's awkward insertion into your life. They just weren't him. They weren't Four.

(Or maybe you just didn't want to think about it. didn't want to contemplate what it meant if Four knew and did nothing at all.)

And loath as you were to admit it (no matter how much it hurt your pride. or put your teeth on edge. or tensed the muscles in your throat and jaw), Twilight wouldn't let anyone (let alone a bunch of psychopathic Four copies) do anything unsavory to you. As much as you wanted to hate him, Twilight really was your shield against the craziness that was the rest of the chain (except for Sky. damned Sky who had killed people and whimpered like a damned victim when he didn't get his way).

So. You kept quiet. You endured Red's whimpering and Blue's aggression and even Green's passive presence creeping into nearly every part of your life. You endured and let Twilight run them off when they got handsy or too overwhelming to bare. You endured and breathed a quiet sigh of relief when you opened your eyes and saw the patchwork of colors on Four's vest. You endured and just ignored it.

And then. It happened. On a night like any other night (it should have been like any other night).

(How could this have happened? why was this allowed to happen. please. please don't let this happen. Twilight. Twilight, please.)

Blue had gotten into your (into Twilight's) space. Quiet and tense and far too intense to be anything but a provoking gesture. Nearly trapping you between himself and Red (where was Wild? he should have been behind you), so close you could feel the heat of his hip and waist as it brushed up against you (Wild was with Green. he was showing him something shiny. some kind of mineral. wrong, wrong, wrong. Green never paid attention to Wild. not like Red did. Green didn't put himself out there like that. not without a reason).

You had immediately locked eyes with Twilight, silently pleading with him to make them back off. Because Red was so, so much already. You couldn't deal with Blue too. And something was wrong. Something felt different about them tonight (why was Red gripping your hand like that? his eyes weren't even on you. they were on Blue, the red of them so intense they glowed like wildfire).

And Twilight had answered. Because he always did. No matter what, he always came to your defense when things got tense.

Blue had squared up with him, eyes glinting steely blue beneath the determined set of his brows (something was different), nearly black with their intensity. Green was making his way over even as Twilight stood to full height to face Blue. Perhaps to talk him down. Maybe to physically drag Blue away as Green had done in the past (something was different. where was Wild? he wasn't where he was supposed to be).

(Where did Green send Wild off to, something whispered quietly in your mind. your heart racing. your gut screaming for you to run, run, run-)

Red was standing suddenly (no. it can't be. this isn't happening). And just like that, Twilight paused, staring down two Colors where once there was only one.

And then Green stepped right up behind Blue, a calm smile on his lips. And drew his sword.

"Sorry, Twilight." Green said smoothly, sounding so damned genuinely apologetic as he continued (as the sound of two other swords being drawn echoed through the tense, still, quiet clearing). "But Four's tired of waiting. And honestly, so are we. You understand how this works."

Twilight's lips pulled back into a grimace and suddenly you understood. Because how could you have not seen it when it had been right there all along (staring you right in the face. red, hearth warm eyes drowning in their obsession. sharp blue tracking you with quiet intensity). How could you have not thought of this outcome (how could you have missed Twilight's unease. he was rarely tense around the others. not even when Hyrule or Legend or Wind or even fucking Wars got close. how did you not notice how determined he'd been to keep the Colors at a distance?).

How could you have not noticed how outnumbered Twilight was all this time? Just watching as a larger, more well coordinated pack closed in from all sides, eyeing him at their leisure, taking his measure (finding his weaknesses). He'd been on the defensive from the beginning (like a cornered animal. like a lone wolf).

And they'd found those weaknesses. Patient. Cunning. Perfectly in sync. With the ability to come from all angles at once. A pack primed for the killing blow.

Wild was gone (Green had done that. he'd gotten Twilight alone). Time was keeping his distance, merely watching with quiet exasperation (Vio at his side. knowing lavender-blue gaze set on Time's face with unsettling ease, the slightest slip of a smile at the corner of his lips. smug).

(Checkmate. This was his checkmate, wasn't it? His victory. And you never even noticed the plays being made right. in. front. of. you.)

One nod from Time and Twilight sighed, running a rough hand through his dark hair, letting the tension in his shoulders lessen.

And then he moved away, casting an apologetic, reassuring smile your way. Sorry that you had been taken from his care, but not concerned enough to truly fight for you. Not when Time was allowing this to happen. Not when he was backed up against the wall (not when he wasn't actually losing anything but another body to tuck in when Wild finally settled enough to sleep).

And just like that you belonged to Four. And the Colors. And no one was even concerned by this (no one cared. no one saw anything wrong with this. they thought this was acceptable behavior. that this was okay when it wasn't. it really, really wasn't).

Twilight was gone (off to track down Wild), and everyone else went back to doing their nightly routines. And you were suddenly alone between Blue and Red, standing in the middle of it all feeling numb and chilled to your very bones.

In that moment, you were more alone than you'd ever been before (had you ever actually not been alone all this time? when no one else seemed to understand just how frightened you were? when they all just assumed you were going to be taken care of no matter who had you and therefore everything was okay).

So dazed were you by the turn of events, you didn't even notice the flicker of blue in your vision before the air was stolen from your lungs. A hand (calloused, shaking with excitement and forceful) balled into your shirt, pulling you down with overwhelming strength. Another gripping into your hair as warm, dry lips pressed harshly (savagely) against yours with ravenous hunger.

You froze at the contact, body tensing and mind going blank in panic as the hand gripping into your hair twisted. Forcibly turning your head for a better angle as something wet brushed against your lips softly (surprisingly gentle for the roughness of everything else).

You hadn't even the time to put your hands up and fight back before the man kissing you was ripped away, the hand still tangled in your hair tugging harshly before it (finally. mercifully) let go.

Freed, you gasped in fresh, life-giving (mind clearing) air. Your lips tingling and warm while the back of your head ached from the sudden punishing pulling it'd had to endure. Gentle, supporting hands were on you then, reeling you in close to lean against a warm, unmoving body.

"The fuck Green!" Blue hissed, lips and cheeks flushed red but his eyes brimming with livid rage. "Why'd you do that?"

Green leveled him with a neutral smile, holding your shaking form a bit closer as he said, firmly. "They're scared, Blue. You're moving too fast."

Blue huffed up, looking murderous and ready to fight. Until Red put a hand on his arm and said earnestly. "You're really scary sometimes, you know! You should be more gentle with them the first time!"

That made Blue pause, and after he finally looked at you (at you. not towards you or for you. but actually at you) and realized that you were shaking and gasping against Green's side, he averted his gaze. Face flushed and expression twisted into quiet anger (at himself. for getting ahead of himself. and for forgetting that for all they knew you, you didn't yet know them).

"Whatever." He mumbled, turning away. "I'm setting up the beds." Then he snapped. "They're sleeping closest to me! Come on, Red!"

Red hesitated, but one hard glare from Blue got him moving. "Coming!" Then he smiled at you, warm and sweet and brimming with excitement. "Don't be scared, kay? We're going to protect you now!" And then he ran to Blue, and they began setting up their sleeping area (five places, not four. and the thought made you shiver).

The hand supporting you rubbed tenderly against your side. "It'll be okay." Green told you reassuringly, his thumb pressing circles into your skin as he side hugged you gently. "They just need time to calm down."

(No. it won't be okay. this is wrong. this is so wrong.)

Later that night, with Blue sleeping at your feet and Red spooned in from behind (still awake. his heart thundering against your back in excitement. legs intertwined with yours and his hands tucked into the dips of your hips like vices), giggling and shaking like a damned small dog with pent-up energy. You lay awake, quiet and hoping Red would just go to sleep soon so you didn't have to hear his whispered 'love you's and 'so perfect's and 'I can't wait. I'm so excited's.

You watched the campfire burning in the distance to distract yourself from the circles his thumbs were rubbing into your hips. Far away. Away from Twilight or Wild (who was still awake and pissy after he'd found out what happened) and anyone else who might (might) have helped you if Red decided to continue where Blue left off (the thought made you want to curl up and disappear).

You closed your eyes and held back a sob as you remembered Vio's words (upset that such things would have ever had to be said to you. upset that they comforted you regardless).

After Green had left to go soothe things over with Twilight (and Wild), Vio had sat down beside you (as you both watched Red and Blue fight over sleeping arrangements) and begun talking. And God, how you wish he hadn't (you were thankful he did).

"They won't do more than touch you. Just hit them if they go too far. Despite his temperament, Blue will not strike you." He'd said coolly, not even taking his eyes off his brothers as they devolved into a brawl right over the spread of bedrolls. Red doing surprising well in pinning Blue down by the back of his tunic.

You wanted to yell at him that they shouldn't be touching you at all. That you didn't want to have to deal with this. You didn't though, because you knew (with heartbreaking, blood-chilling certainty) that it wouldn't change a damned thing. You didn't have a voice before, and you most certainly didn't now. Especially not with four others there to overpower your pitiful whispers and pleading screams (outnumbered and cornered, you wanted to giggle. though not the happy kind. not the sane kind).

His hand was on yours, fingers curling gently around your fist (what need have he to use force against trapped prey? why assert dominance when you were already completely under his power). "Four will be here tomorrow. When you wake, he will allow you to set boundaries." His cool, lavender-blue eyes flickered to yours. "Within reason."

You couldn't meet his eyes any longer as you asked, submissive and withdrawn. "How do you know?"

Vio blinked, face blank and eyes dispassionate as he asked. "Are you afraid of who you become when you dream?" You didn't get to answer when he continued, his hand (softer than Blue's, thinner than Green's, cooler than Red's) tightening on yours. "We know because it's what we want. Four is us, and we are Four. There is no one without the others."

Ice ran down the length of your spine. Your heart quivered. All the pieces falling into place right before your eyes.

"Speak to Four when he awakens. We will hear you with every part of us then." He said simply. And then he continued, more quietly. "Do not be afraid. He will protect you, from even himself if he must. As he always has."

Then he leaned in, his lips nearly brushing against your ear as he whispered. "He is our conscience, after all."

And suddenly. You understood. It all made sense now. The feeling of wrongness. The unease. The fear.

Four was their soul. Their shared center. Their conscience. And the longer they stayed separated, the further they strayed from his guiding inner voice.

They really were a group of psychos. Truly. And now, they owned you. And they could do anything they wanted to you. And the only thing keeping them from ripping you apart was the imprint of Four's will.

Red giggled again, one hand slipping up just the slightest bit until his fingers brushed the delicate skin of your waist. He quietly gasped at the feeling, shaking with repressed desire. Pressing his face into your neck, his mouth opening slightly before it snapped back closed with a muted click.

You closed your eyes and prayed for morning to come sooner. For Four to look up from polishing his tools and give you a small, tired smile. The sunlight shinning off his beautifully gold-spun hair like a rolling field of wheat. His eyes warm and sweet with fondness.

'Good morning.' He'll say, and you'll reply in kind. Relieved and grateful and safe (and you won't think about what Green said. you won't think about the implications. you just won't think about any of it).

You'll wake up tomorrow and Four will be there. Steady and reliable and helpful. Calm and collected and kind. Sweet and respectful and understanding. You'll tell him everything this time. You'll be completely honest (no you won't), and he'll make it right.

Because Four is reasonable. Because he'll protect you from even himself. Because he's a good person (because he won).

(And if you keep saying it enough. Maybe one day you'll actually fucking believe that load of bullshit. Except, you really, really won't. Not now, not ever.)

Because he loves you.

---

Back to the shadows.

[milksuu]

can I get some headcannons based on Heartsteal being becoming fathers? Like how they were during the time their s/o was pregnant. :3c

Maybe a bonus on whether the child was planned or not.

❥ prompt: v!heartsteel expecting father headcanons with reader ❥ content/warnings: suggestive themes, foul language, pregnancy and all things related, baby genders mentioned ❥ characters/pairings: Heartsteel! (aphelios, ezreal, kayn) x pregnant!reader an;; forgive me, i am too sleepy tired to write for all the boys atm. ;w; fml my hc's for sett would make me fold errr maybe later

░꒱♡‿ִ₊˚→ APHELIOS

When you break the news, Aphelios forgets he primarily uses sign language to speak. To your surprise, and to his own, he uses broken words and barely audible sounds. Almost like a child learning to talk again. You have to help him by taking his hands, and guiding him to use them instead of straining his vocal cords.

'Are...are you sure?'

At first, it's difficult to process all the emotions. Happiness. Fear. Excitement. Anxiety. Love. Overwhelmed, he presses your hands against his face, hiding his unraveling expressions. Afer a beat, he chokes up. His hands squeezes yours, deepening your touch. And within moments, you're wrapped in his arms. And he presses as much of you into himself as he can. Holding you so close to his heart, you feel it pound against your cheek. As if to say; 'is it really okay for me to be this happy?'

To any outsider looking in, Aphelios seems disconnected and unenthusiastic about the whole situation. A plus-one wasn't planned, after all. When anyone asks about you and the baby, he replies with a simple 'Fine. Thanks.' And promptly diverts the subject back to work or anything else. But on the inside, the poor man is suffering. Constantly worrying about you and the babies well-being. In reality, he's too afraid to indulge in his own happiness and share it with others. Fearing the moment he does, it'll all shatter like glass in front of him. And he won't be strong enough to mend the pieces.

It's no surprise that his new chronic obsession consist of only making sure you and the growing baby are safe. He texts every hour, on the hour. Makes frequent video calls. And installs motion sensor cameras around the house, especially in places you could easily fall. And no, he doesn't mind watching you fold laundry or wash dishes for an hour while on a face call. So long as he can see you smiling and healthy, that's all he needs to assure him when he's not physically with you.

He's also pulling all nighters until his bottom eyelids are rimmed red. Reading hundreds upon hundreds of articles, forum posts, and online material on how to be a 'Good Father'—especially one who can't speak. Jotting down everything he can in his notebook, bleeding pen after pen dry from ink. There's plenty of times you have to wake up in the middle of the night and convince him back to bed. But only after reassuring him a thousands times how great of a father he'll be.

When the baby bump begins to show, Aphelios presses his ears against your stomach. Listening to the life you carry inside you. The amniotic sounds ease his intrusive thoughts, and lulls him to sleep; he always imagines he's taking a nap right beside the baby. Plus, he loves getting the small bit of attention from you as you run your fingers through his hair. A moment of selfishness he can't help but relish all for himself.

As for sex...well, he's not always on board with the idea. As much as he craves to be inside you everyday, especially when your body looks so heavenly full, he just doesn't want to risk anything. Especially in your later months. Last thing he wants to do is induce an early labor. But he's more than willing to devote his hands and mouth to satisfy every inch of you that he can. Worshipping you with adoring kisses and soft touches from head to toe. He's happy to please you, and doesn't expect anything in return in your state. (Of course, you do anyway.)

Familial genetics is one heck of a thing. Aphelio's eyes are blown wide at an image screen that shows two babies growing side-by-side. When it's conclusive you'd be having identical twin boys, he almost collapses in front of the ultrasound technician. So not one—but two—surprise gifts waited for him at the end of the third-trimester. And if they would be anything like him, their house would be a pranking death trap to all who entered. No one would be safe, except for mom.

░꒱♡‿ִ₊˚→ EZREAL

When you show Ezreal your pregnancy result, he looks at it with complete shock. He's locked in silence, which is never a good thing for someone as talkative as him. You almost have second thoughts about revealing the news until he bounces to you and gathers you in his arms. Eyes brimming with tears of absolute joy.

"No way—No way! Are you telling me I'm going to be a dad? Babe, for real. Is that what these two lines mean? Are you kidding me? This is the happiest freakin' day of my life!"

Ezreal has always been a fan of surprises, and this big news was no exception. Everywhere he went, no matter the conversation, he'd just casually state he was becoming a father. Didn't matter the person or group setting. Family. Friends. The neighbor; his neighbor next to him. The young teen delivering packages to his door. The grandmother and her toy-poodle waiting in line at the convenience store. If anyone was around him, he was boasting about you and the now expected bundle of joy.

Ezreal tries his bestest to help you around the house. He's never been great at chores, but he's a happy little helper eager to listen and please. You tell him exactly what you need from him, and he'll do it with a smile on his face. Anything that keeps your stress levels low, he wants to be the one you rely on to ease your burden.

Ezreal can't lie and say he understands everything about pregnancy and what you're going through. It all seems to go right over his head. The only thing he seems to get is your morning sickness, because he's literally feeling it too. Seeing you nauseous gets his own sympathetic response going. So while he's trying to comfort you, holding your hair as you hover over the toilet, he's also cradling the nearby trash bucket for himself. (How romantic!)

When your stomach grows, Ezreal can spend hours and hours talking to it. He never runs out of topics. Even mentioning the most mundane parts of his everyday life. These moments are when he feels he's bonding most with his child to be. He'll pretend to tell the baby secrets that you don't even know about, and whispers out loud with a wink, "but don't tell your mom about that one, 'kay?"

Ezreal is literally terrified to have sex with you. And not because he doesn't find your body attractive. But he actually believes he'll poke the baby's eye out, or pop you like a water balloon. And if that ever happened, the guilt would forever destroy him. It takes a visit to the obgyn and for a professional to explain that it's perfectly safe to have sex during your pregnancy. He's hesitant at first, but after the first go around, his confidence and sex drive picks right where it left off. (He regrets not going at it like rabbits sooner.)

When you're at your routine ultrasound appointment, Ezreal can't stop the tears parading down his face, even before he knows it's a boy. Hiccuping and siffling, one hand squeezes yours tight, while the other points at the imaging. "H...He...looks just...like me." It's endearing for him to think that. When the monitor only shows splotchy and fuzzy spots of the babies butt. The copied images to take home are his favorite photos taken. Ever.

░꒱♡‿ִ₊˚→ KAYN

When you break the news to Kayn, he doesn't hesitate to pull you in by the waist, pressing your hips together. Guiding a hand to the back of your neck, in a manner that was gentle and not comparable to how he fucked you senselessly. And with all the care in the world, he takes your lips.

"Damn. You're fertile as Hell. It only took us one time after you stopped your birth-control. Honestly, it's really fuckin' hot. How about we—you know—to celebrate?"

Counter to popular belief, Kayn brought up the idea to start a family first. When you asked him the reason, he first joked around a bit, telling you how hot and sexy it would be to 'impregnate you with his seed'. But, he put aside his usual impulsivities, and explained his desire to move on to the next part of his life. He was done with the partying and drugs. Over the one night stands and dating random no-nobodies. And just wanted to have a more meaningful, family oriented life—with you.

To show he's committed to the whole idea, he takes days off from his idol schedule to go to every prenatal check-up appointment. He plucks and stuffs every pamphlet into his pockets he can find around the waiting lobby. He asks tons of questions to the obgyn, and stuffs more educational brochures in his pockets. You have to scold him when he tries to snag a small uterus replica from the exam room. Kayn defends himself, wanting it for "educational" purposes. (Rhaast just wanted it as a neat souvenir.) He settles when a medical assistant gives him a sperm shaped pen.

Kayn is another one that isn't great with house chores. (But he'll gloat and say he's mastered cleaning the dishes, at the very least.) He's generally better at being sent for errands outside the home. If you need an extra ingredient to make dinner, he'll hop on his motorcycle and get it in record time. And if you're not feeling up for cooking, he'll order pick-up from your favorite place in town. You need to send a package at the post office? He'll wait hours in line on the busiest day of the week. Whatever he can do for you, he makes sure it gets done. So you never have to worry about something once you pass the responsibility to him. Showing you he's a more than capable partner and future father.

When your baby bump starts to show, Kayn's favorite thing to do is touch it. Applying the softest pressure as he runs his hands and finger across your rounding stomach. He's always enamored whenever he feels the baby move; another reminder of how amazing you are. And he never forgets to vocalize it. "You're so goddamn beautiful, you know that?" he'll say like you've cursed him. Cradling your face and taking your mouth.

You never have to tell this man more than once to touch or have sex with you. It's part of his daily routine a this point. And definitely one of his favorite ways to bond with you. But now that you're pregnant, it's as if the sex between you two has shifted into another plane of pleasurable existence. Never getting enough of it, even moments after finishing. But on the days you're not up for it, he respects it. And doesn't mind defaulting to cuddling, before dozing off to sleep with you in his arms. (But he eagerly counts down the time for when you're in the mood again.)

Kayn tries not to show to much of his softer-side; he rather be the one to have his shoulder wet than yours. But at your ultrasound appointment, once it's confirmed you're having a girl, his whole punk 'fuck only the hot police' persona collapses. You notice him clear his throat, and quickly swipe a knuckle at the corner of his eyes. He masks this dent of composure by huffing a laugh, "Guess I'm, uh...going to be kicking the crap out of a lot of asses later."

[mothwingwritings]

Frohe Weihnachten

Boyfriend To Death Strade X F! Reader X Ren

MERRY CHRISTMAS EVERYONE!!! By some miracle of the holiday season I have arrived and even wrote something, even if it is random and I struggled to get finished before Christmas. But I did it and now  I offer it to you humbly as a lil gift.

This month has unfortunately bad. All the bad had me looking for distractions to keep me from the gloom, and the search for distractions lead me to replaying Boyfriend To Death 1, and replaying BTD made me start Boyfriend to Death 2, and well… Here we are. It’s been one of the few things I could focus on that brought me joy this month (what that says about my mental health we will leave up to interpretation loooooool :)), so I decided to try my hand at writing something for it. It proved to be a fun challenge, and I am hoping to do some more BTD stuff in the future. :3

ANYWAY here is a Strade-centric fic (Ren is there too, though) I churned out amidst the December bs. He’s spoiling you in it which isn’t really a good thing for you. I hope I did him justice. He is a very nuanced guy and I had a lot of fun writing this. I can slowly feel god awful, horrible men  becoming my forte , and at this point I am just embracing it.

Please be mindful that BTD and BTD2 are adult games, so even though there is no explicit NSFW in this fic, it is for 18+ only just as its source material is. No one under the age of 18 should be reading this, thank you!

WARNINGS: Torture, stabbing, blood, degradation, forced stripping, pet play, mentions of rape/noncon, Strade is filming a snuff film and though you are a part of it, you are not the one being snuffed (congrats!), severing of body parts, nonconsensual filming and touching, kidnapping, imprisonment, butchered German (my highschool German teacher is crying somewhere) and probs some shoddy editing (sorry for the rush!).

Staring down at the gifts laid out before you, a thin layer of sweat began to coat your body.

It wasn’t so much that the boxes wrapped in vibrant, pretty, paper were that unnatural (it was Christmas day, after all) so much as it was shocking that you had received them at all, given the circumstances.

This was your first Christmas away from home, the first holiday season spent without the company of your friends and family, and their absence felt like a swift punch in the gut. None of the old traditions and celebrations you were accustomed to partaking in were around to bring you comfort this year, the laid back, pleasant atmosphere that typically encapsulated  Christmas was nowhere to be found. Any jolly vibe was replaced by discomfort, apprehension, and a festering disquiet that permeated the air, killing any and all fun normal for this day.

Across from the looming assortment of gifts, each wrapped in varying degrees of expertise, sat your captor Strade, and parked next to him was your fellow captive Ren. Both sets of eyes were drinking you in with great interest, the out-of-place youthful enthusiasm reflecting back at you doing little to quell your mounting anxiety. You shifted nervously in your seat, trying your best to remain calm. You had no idea what manner of sick surprise awaited you in those packages, all you knew was that you were dreading opening them, especially with these two watching. Thinking of what the wrong reaction to their presents may illicit was more stress inducing than the gifts themselves, which already made you feel like you were developing a hernia.

“Well, go ahead,” Strade was the first to speak, his lazy drawl and splayed out body contradicting heavily with the frenzied look in his eye, “What are you waiting for?”

Ren nodded beside him eagerly, “Go ahead, (name)! I opened mine earlier because I was too excited to wait,” he chuckled a little, a small, bashful blush illuminating his cheeks, “And um, there’s a few for you in there from me so… I hope you like them.”

Your eyes traveled from the men, down to the presents. You swallowed thickly, overwhelmed by their façade of innocence, violated by their unblinking stares.

“I-I’m sorry, I just um… Wasn’t really expecting… this…”

It wasn’t a lie, the last thing you could have predicted was a present, let alone multiple. You figured maybe Ren would get you something (he had the luxury of internet access, something you were yet to be trusted with), but it wasn’t even within the realm of fantasy that you may receive anything from Strade. The only thing you dared hope for was a small reprieve from the abuse he inflicted daily, but even that seemed too farfetched to hope for.

“Well, I say you deserve it,” Strade spoke, the calm cadence of his voice still clashing with the gleam in his eye, “what’s Christmas without presents, after all? So go ahead, open them.”

You hesitated for a moment before finally reaching a shaky hand towards the closet gift on the table. Your body was moving mechanically, and though your fear was palpable, you forced your demeanor to remain composed as you pulled the small box into your lap. Your fingers carefully tore through the thin paper, dreading revealing the mystery that shiny paper shielded you from.

And as the paper fell away piece by piece, you were shocked to find that the box contained… slippers.

You stared at them for a moment, dumbfounded. Of all the things in the world that could have been waiting inside that box, to receive something so innocuous and normal was beyond perplexing.

And the gifts continued this way. You unwrapped package after package of clothing, perfumes and toiletries, stuffed animals and snacks. Each new item bewildered you just as much as the last, leaving you feeling like all this was just the lead up of  a joke, one you felt like you were the punch line for.

 As if the gifts themselves weren’t mind boggling enough, the quantity and quality of them were just as shocking. Brand names and fancy, high end packaging stared back at you with nearly each ripped wrapping, a small slap in the face with each revelation.

It left a pit in your stomach. Not even your own parents would gift you some of these things, so why were you being treated this way by a homicidal maniac and his companion? To make matters even worse, most of the gift you actually liked. Definite thought was put into each present, unnerving you most of all. You didn’t want them to know your likes and dislikes, and you certainly didn’t want them to be so familiar with you that they could easily pick out things you may desire. It felt borderline offensive that they were able to peg you so well, like you had been wrenched open and all the hidden parts of yourself you had been hiding had been forced out in the open, secrets uncovered you wished to remain hidden.

Heebie jeebies aside, such normalcy left you scratching your head. You had an intense urge to inspect each and every item to make sure the clothes weren’t secretly lined with razors, or the stuffed animals weren’t just cute ways to conceal knives, but you contained yourself. No use in setting them off when things were going surprisingly well.

You kept yourself neutral as you thanked them, neither over eager or ungrateful as you graciously accepted the offerings. Ren beamed in recognition each time you mentioned him, delighted by the simplest praise. Strade remained nonchalant, leaning back as he leered at you with that unnerving smile he always so proudly donned on his face.

When the present pile had come to an end, an overwhelming sense of relief washed over you. You felt like you had made it out of a vary harrowing journey without so much as a scratch, and felt quite accomplished for doing so.

However, before you could feel the weight truly lifted from your shoulders, any sense of triumph quickly flew out the door as Strade slowly leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. His beady eyes drilled holes through you, delighting in the apprehension his subtle shift caused you. Your blood turned to ice as he gave you a lopsided grin, his words coming out drawn out and slow, as if he were speaking to a child.

“Myyy look at that,” he sneered, “so many nice things for our (Name)! She must have some very generous admirers. It’s obvious she’s the favorite, not a single one of those boxes were for you or me, Ren!”

The weight of your situation suddenly crashed down around you. Of course these gifts wouldn’t come without some horrible caveat-you were an idiot for even thinking you would get away with this scot free.

You tried to calm yourself with the fact that Strade most likely wouldn’t go through all the hassle of spending all this money on someone he planned to kill shortly after. What would be the point? But that thought birthed an even worse fear, the expectation of getting something back in return. There wasn’t a chance in hell that you would be able to provide him a physical gift, a fact Strade was intimately aware of. That left you with one option- he was looking for reciprocation through different means.

You swallowed hard, your hands shaking as you clasped them in your lap, struggling with how to word the imminent question you had.

“Do you want… I mean, should I get you something in return?”

You hated how small your voice sounded, dreading the response your words may garner. A shiver rocked you as the smile on Strade’s face spread, his arms spreading out in a dramatic shrug as he shook his head with a laugh.

“No no, please! The only thing I want in return is for you to thoroughly enjoy your gifts, nothing else is needed. Your delight is a gift in and of itself.”

His words did little to help your dwindling nerves. A sudden harsh clap of his hands made your heart skip a beat, his body pivoting to face Ren with a sadistic smile.

“I almost forgot,” he exclaimed, his voice taking a dangerous edge, “we have one more very special surprise for our girl, don’t we?”

Your attention darted to Ren, hoping for a sign of assurance from him. The beatskin started to squirm a bit in his seat, pulling nervously at the hem of his oversized sweater. He looked over at you with lidded eyes, a dangerous gleam in them that you knew was a terrible precursor of the pain to come. 

Ren’s breathing had grown unsteady, the blush that had engulfed his face becoming so vibrant you could almost feel its heat from where you sat. While there was nervousness to his demeanor, he couldn’t quite mask the hints of his exhilaration from peeking through. The guileless enthusiasm was hard to face, causing you to avert your gaze, your heart sinking deeper. Ren was no saint himself, but he was all you had in this hell that masqueraded as a normal, middle class home. He was supposed to have your back (and often times did) in moments like these, but it appeared his demons won this round. The thrill radiating from him over your oncoming misery was perceptible. You were on your own with whatever lay ahead.

With a jerk of Strades head, Ren bounded off the couch to another room, the sound of subtle clanging reaching your ears as he dug around out of sight. You careened your body, hoping to maybe get a peek of whatever the hell Ren had ran so jubilantly to acquire, but you immediately stopped once you heard a chuckle rumble from Strade’s chest.

“My my~,” he purred, the sound causing an instinctive shiver, “so eager this morning (name)! I can only hope you keep that up once you see what the surprise actually is, hm?”

Before you had a chance to respond, Ren barreled back into the room, slightly out of breath and clutching some sort of metallic, chain linked contraption in is hand.

“Sorry,” he lightly huffed, handing the item in question to Strade, “I hid it really well so it took a moment to get.”

Once it was in his grasp, Strade turned to you, holding out the item so you could finally view it in all its glory.

It was a new collar-a dog training collar, to be precise. This one however had been modified, the spikes lining the interior of the collar, while typically coated with a thick, squishy plastic to as not to hurt the dog in their training stage, were missing their protection. The metal nubs that the plastic encased were also typically dull and rounded on most training collars, meant to poke and prod instead of maim and hurt. You would not be getting that manner of gentle encouragement it seemed, your body tensing as you stared at each harshly pointed spike. The needle like protrusions glistened so brilliantly in the overhead light it almost appeared as if the collar was made of diamonds.

You sat perfectly still, in a complete daze as Strade approached you and swiftly released the thick electric collar from around your neck. The cool air hit your sweat drenched flesh, giving you a chill. While it was nice to be without the weight of that vile contraption, the freedom was only momentary as he clasped your new chain links into place across your throat. Though it was much more delicate than your previous collar, for some reason it felt much heavier than its bulky electric counterpart.

You winced as he gave the leash a small pull, grinning when a sharp, shocked cry fell past your lips. The needles hadn’t broken the skin yet, but the action did make you become keenly aware of just much damage they could cause with very minimal effort. The delicate nature of your current standing was looking bleaker with each passing second, uncontrollable shivers wracking your body as you eyed Strade fiddling carelessly with your leash. He seemed pleased by the attention his minor ministrations were awarding him, humored by the pain he could bring you with a mere flick of his wrist.

“I-it looks pretty on you, (Name),” Ren stuttered, a nervous smile complimenting the red of his cheeks, “Kind of dainty, like a fancy necklace. It really suits you.”

“It is pretty, isn’t it?” Strade jeered, fingering the chains that hung heavy around your neck, “I considered one for you too Ren, I didn’t want to make you jealous, you know? But then I figured hell, if I get this for (Name) Ren’ll probably enjoy this just as much as I do, so it’s already a two for one deal.”

Giving your cheek a few mild slaps, Strade turned his gaze towards Ren, “I trust that you’ll take good care of (Name) if I’m ever out and about and you want to have some special fun with her. A little pet time for my pet would do him some good, I think.”

The flippant insinuation made bile rise in the back of your throat.

“Now,” Strade pulled tighter on the leash, prompting you to rise to your feet and stand before the men. He lifted the chain above his head, laughing as you rose to tiptoes to avoid gouging your neck, “What do we say after we receive such a nice present, hmmm~?”

“Thank you,” you choked the words through your indignation, the spikes scratching uncomfortably against your skin as you did so. After several seconds of your balancing act, Strade lowered his hand, granting you the ability to stand normally. You released the breath you were holding, thankful that for at least this moment, you escaped agony.

“So ein gutes Mädchen für mich,” he cooed condescendingly, patting your head as if you were an actual dog, “you are really making me proud! But the fun isn’t over yet, in fact, this is just the first part of your special surprise,” his eyes widened at your obvious despair, “Aren’t you lucky?”

Without further ado he stomped past you, leash gripped tightly in his hand as he led your further into the house. While there was more leeway to the leash than anticipated, you still hustled to follow after him, fearful of the barbs encircling your throat. His whistled as he walked, his demeanor so exuberant that for a moment you felt he might start skipping. Ren trailed behind you, following closely in your footsteps.

It didn’t take long for you to catch on to where you were headed. As you came to stop before the thick, iron door that separated the rest of the house from the hell-hole that was the basement, tidal wave of fear washed over you. Strade took a deep breath, relishing all that was too come, immersed in the anticipation he was undoubtedly feeling. He turned to you and smiled, and you fought to keep a grip on your sanity. Feeling feint, your eyes flicked from him, back to the imposing door. Your heart was banging so violently in your chest from the sheer amount of terror that was coursing through your veins that you worried you may pass out.

How many people had met cruel, agonizing fates down those stairs? How many gallons of blood had dripped down the walls, pooled on the floor, snaked through the drains? How many anguished screams had reverberated off those sound proof walls?

You began to panic as Strade opened the door with ease, wasting no time making his way down. You hadn’t been to the basement since Strade had kidnapped you many months ago and you had hoped it would be a place that you never found yourself in again. It relieved you when Strade had forbid you and Ren from stepping foot down there, one of the few orders he gave that you were actually happy to oblige. Strade only took people to the basement for one reason and one reason only, and the fact that he was so pleasantly dragging you down there right now did not bode well for you in the slightest.

“W-wait,” you called out nervously, grabbing at the chain leash in an attempt to stop his descent. “W-why are we going down here?”

“Because it’s where the rest of your present is,” he answered as if it were obvious, a tinge of annoyance in his voice as he shot you a pointed look, “Now come on.”

You opened your mouth to speak, but a gentle touch on your shoulder stopped you.

“It’s ok, (Name),” Ren’s voice sounded softly in your ear. You could tell he was doing his best to sound reassuring. “We are allowed down there today, Strade said we could as a special treat for Christmas. It’s OK, I promise,” he gave your shoulder a small squeeze, before planting a fleeting kiss to your cheek, “I’ll be with you the whole time.”

His words did little to assuage the overwhelming terror you were feeling, sinking its claws deep in your battered soul, holding you in a death grip. You were past the point of a panic attack, now fearing a heart attack may be what does you in. At this point you wondered if that would be a mercy over whatever awaited you down there.

Forced breathes rattled from your lungs, erratic and strained as you stared into Strade’s expectant eyes, knowing his patience was rapidly diminishing. As much as you wanted to get whatever was coming over with, your legs lost the ability to move, your body denying every command your brain was giving to take the first step.

Hesitating a moment too long elicited a brutal tug from Strade, effectively ending your indecision as you were sent tumbling down after him. You whimpered as you felt the barbs of the collar tear into your flesh. Small rivulets of blood snaked from each fresh wound, dripping down your shoulders, back, and chest to strain the collar of your shirt. As a rare act of mercy, Strade caught you, his thick arm acting as a barrier between you and the concrete you were plummeting head first towards.  For once you were thankful to be within the monster’s grasp, a sore chest and aching shoulder from where he grabbed you were far better than any injury you would have attained from the fall.

Consumed by a rush of adrenaline from the tumble, you neglected to realize your hands had latched to Strade’s arm like a lifeline. Embarrassment flooded you, quickly prompting you to release your hold on him. He laughed at the flush on your cheeks, your body jostling along with the rumble of his chest. His hand relinquished its grip on your shoulder, leaving behind angry red fingerprints, as if he had seared your flesh with a mere touch. His newly freed hand moved to tangle itself in your hair, eliciting a whimper as his nails dug into your scalp. Each place his body made contact with yours felt like it was burning.

Without warning, he roughly brought the side of your head to his lips, the stubble of his cheeks scratching your skin as he smashed his face against yours, taking in a deep breath. Excited puffs of breath tickled your ear as he spoke.

 “Hurry up now,” his voice was gruff, but the words came out in a sing-song manner, “Don’t start misbehaving now, it would be a total bummer if you had to miss out on this, (Name)~”

With a wistful sigh he released his hold, leaving your momentarily reeling as you stumbled back, trying to reclaim your baring’s. Strade didn’t give much of a chance to do so, continuing on his way with another yank of the leash, forcing you to scramble after him once more.

Your body gave an involuntary shiver as your feet touched the chilly concrete floor. Strade flipped the lights, causing you to recoil at the sudden brightness. Your eyes grew watery as they struggled to adjust, but when they finally did you wished more than ever you could have just remained in the dark.

Though you hadn’t been in the basement since the week of your capture, everything was just as you remembered it. Horrible memories flooded your mind as you took in your surroundings, your brain assaulted by flashbacks of months prior. All the same home appliances and tools still lined the back wall, typically innocent devices most people used for repair jobs and building projects that no one would take a second glance at were this a normal basement. In Strades hands however, they became tools of destruction and torment, capable of the vilest atrocities.

You heard the loud whirring of the freezer off to the side before you saw it, the outdated device still valiantly chugging away as it preserved god knows what on its rickety inner shelves. The noise it spewed was so grating you wondered why he didn’t just replace the damn thing, or at least try and fix it. Near it stood the work table that housed his buzzsaw, looming ominously as it waited patiently for its next use (whether that be for flesh or for wood, who was to say?).

Witnessing these normally mundane items again made your chest hurt, a deep, indescribable level of horror spreading through every inch of your body as you struggled to reacclimate yourself. You were sure this place would haunt you as long as you lived, whether you stood in it or not didn’t matter.

Your throat went dry as you stared at the dark stains that littered the floor, remnants of various human’s bodily fluids. Blood, vomit, piss, and everything else that may leak from a human corpse was so continuous and abundant that there was no hope of the marks ever diminishing. Something told you Strade didn’t seem to mind, however. If anything, seeing those stains probably brought him some level of happiness, acting as pleasant little reminders of all the slaughter he had committed, a trophy for the lives he had stolen.

And there, smack dab in the middle of the basement stood the support beam he had tied you to, effectively barring your escape from this place. Witnessing it again was bad enough, but as your eyes locked onto it your heart started racing once more, your terror hitting unprecedented levels at the realization that there was a body there, tied up and trapped just as you once were.

At first you thought maybe you were hallucinating, seeing some phantom version of yourself your mind had conjured under the extreme stress you were facing. But as you continued to stare, noticing the slight rise and fall of their chest, hearing the small wheezes coming from their direction with each motion, it became apparent they were no figment of your imagination. Long hair fell from their slumped head, obscuring your vision of their face, but judging by what you could see of their body they looked to be around your age, similar to your build. You couldn’t help but wonder if you shared other features, had the same eye color, or maybe a similar facial structure.

You couldn’t shake the feeling that maybe Strade picked them because they reminded him of you.

Witnessing another human in this state made your stomach turn. It wasn’t so long ago that you were in that exact situation, and seeing them there helpless and oblivious to what lay before them filled you with the distressing urge to try and rescue them. If you could only run to them, untie their bindings and embrace them, let them know you were there for them and that they would be ok… Stupidly wisheful thinking, but maybe a miracle could still happen and that sweet lie would come true…

You shook your head slightly, dispelling the thought. No, it was all a tragic pipe dream, the fact they were here meant they were as good as dead and there wasn’t a damn thing you could do to stop that.

“Hey!”

Strade barked, breaking you from the spell you were under. You jumped to attention, your wide eyes turning to him to give him your full attention. His scowl lessened at your recognition, “I know it’s all very exciting (Name), but pay attention when I am talking to you, alright?”

“Sorry,” your mouth barely formed the word, spitting it out so fast you wondered if it was even understandable. You were still in shock from being in such a terrible place, your brain lost in a fog as it struggled to comprehend why you were here, what Strade wanted of you, who that person on the floor was, and if you would make it through the day.

He sighed before stepping closer to you, irritation still lingering in his features. You fought every urge telling you to bolt, your body jolting as he gently patted your cheeks. After a few soft pats to garner your attention his strong hands continued to cup your cheeks, cradling your face in his palms. His skin was warm, the sweat from his hand moistening your skin as his thumb traced absentminded circles across scars he had created.

“Strip.”

The command didn’t register at first, making him lose patience. As you stood stock still his brows began to knit, foot tapping a bit as he waited for you to comply. After several seconds of inactivity on your end, he snapped his fingers in realization, his expression relaxing as something donned on him.

“Oh wait, it’s probably hard with the collar, right? Don’t worry, I’ll help you out.”

From an unseen back holster, he brandished an imposing hunting knife, one that you would remember anywhere. It was the same one he tormented you the day he met you, the feel of it on your skin seared into your memory for all eternity. It had done a brilliant job keeping you at bay when he first imprisoned you, serving him well as the main tool that broke you.

Seeing it again was all too overwhelming, all too horribly familiar. Your body quaked, tears starting to flood your eyes, making your vision waver. Your lips moved, your throat struggling to speak, fighting to come up with something, anything that may stop him from using it on you. But ultimately there was nothing you could force out, so you just stood there blankly, flapping your lips in a failed attempt at self-preservation.

“What’s wrong?” Strade pouted, pulling at your collar, forcing you closer to him. You could barely feel the pain through your terror. “If you have something to say, you should say it. Or are you just so thrilled by all this that you can’t form a coherent thought,” he tutted, “Ah, I know the feeling well (Name), but don’t suddenly go mute on me! I want to fully enjoy all of your reactions, so don’t hold back. Think of it as your gift to me.” You shivered as he placed the knife under your shirt, cutting away haphazardly at the thin fabric, uncaring that he was nicking your flesh in the process.

With his body so near, the only sound you could focus on was Strade’s labored, rasping breathes as they rattled from his throat. He blithely ripped what was left of your clothing from your body, leaving it discarded in torn heaps on the ground. Thankfully he spared your underwear, but as his fingers languidly played with the strap of your bra, you wondered if he wouldn’t also reconsider letting you keep what remained of your decency.

“Tonight will be so good, meine Haustier,” his voice sounded hoarse, thick with anticipation as he hovered over you, nuzzling his face into your hair, “… This reminds me a lot of the night I brought you home. Maybe I am just feeling nostalgic, having you down here with me again, but it’s hard not to get wrapped up in such fond memories.”

He chuckled, “I’m thankful I was able to reel myself in back then and keep you, no matter how much I wanted to do otherwise.” He pointed his knife to the unconscious body on the floor, “This one I brought here today won’t be nearly as fun as you were, so I don’t want you to feel jealous, alright? You’re where you are for a reason, just as they are where they are for a reason. Mein Liebchen, I’m so glad I can share this moment with you...”

He pressed in closer to you, an unmistakable bulge in his pants grazing the exposed flesh of your leg as he did so. You both shuddered at the brief contact, though his reaction was for reasons far different than your own.

“This intimacy is nice, don’t you think? Sharing your passions with those close to you is what meaningful relationships are allllll about.”

He pulled away from you slightly, pressing the blade of his knife under your chin. Wincing at the briefest of contact with the blade, you raised your head to avoid slicing of your chin, stopping once you were eye to eye with Strade. Your noses nearly touched as he took in the features of your face, smiling at the sheer horror reflected in your eyes.

“And I want to remind you just how passionate I can be~”

He spun you around, giving you an abrupt shove. Unable to keep your balance you fell forward, your knees colliding with the stony floor. A hiss of pain slipped past your lips at the contact as Strade kneeled down next to you, tangling his fingers once more in your hair. With a sharp yank, he pulled your head up, directing your attention to the far corner of the room.

With his guidance, your gaze landed on something new.  A cage you couldn’t recall ever seeing filled your took up a sizable chunk of the side wall, making you wonder how you missed see it to begin with. How he got such an unwieldy contraption down the stairs previously without your notice was also lost on you. The thing looked far too heavy for one person to easily transport, even if it came in pieces.

It looked incredibly sturdy, each side comprised of thick, imposing iron bars. The cage was moderately sized- large enough for people to sit in, but not so large that it would be a comfortable arrangement. At a glance, it seemed to be made for a dog, but the girth of the bars and thick padlock on the door were completely unnecessary features for a canine, even the largest and most aggressive dog breeds wouldn’t need something so robust to keep them contained. Strade must have had it special made, and it didn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out who it was made for. You clenched your fists, fighting the queasiness that this new facet of the day brought to the table. You knew the cage shouldn’t have surprised you as much as it did, but you couldn’t help but be a bit addled by it. You briefly wondered if there was a limit to how much he would spend to fuel his sick intentions.

The cage sat off to the side, out of the way of the main walkway and slightly hidden behind the stairs so that it wasn’t immediately noticeable, but it was still close enough to the rest of the rooms fixtures that anyone trapped inside would have a clear view or what was happening around them. Which you figured was the point. What better seat for an unwilling audience?

“I originally bought this for Ren, but he was much easier to house train then you were.” Strade laughed, removing his hand from your hair to clap you on the shoulder. He turned his gaze to Ren who stood by the cage expectantly, waiting to fulfill his role in the nights unfolding misery. “Why don’t you show her inside, Ren? Get yourselves all comfy for the show.”

With a quick nod, Ren scampered in before you, giving you just enough room to squeeze in beside him. Nestling in, he turned to you with a strange mix of fear and anticipation in his eyes, patting the area next to you with a small smile on his lips.

“Come in, (Name),” he looked up at you through his lashes, bashful despite the situation he willingly crawled into, “There’s plenty of room.”

Strade gave you no opportunity to refute his invitation, dragging you along the floor by the collar until you arrived at the cages entrance. You gagged as the spikes dug into your flesh, your fingers attempting to find purchase and pull them out. But your grip kept slipping, the blood that coated each metallic link making it impossible to pry away.

At the entrance, Strade quickly unlatched your adjoining leash, pushing the side of his foot against your ass to shove you into the cage, treating you much the same way you would a misbehaving dog. He slammed the door behind you the moment your limbs were barely through the door, preventing you from backtracking. He hastily secured the huge padlock after he did so, effectively trapping you and Ren inside.

“I know you’ll watch, but I can’t trust her,” Strade spoke to Ren, kneeling down so that he was eye level with the two of you, “Latch her collar to the top bar, I want her focused.”

Ren was quick to follow orders, contorting himself around you so he could bind you to the cage. Part of you hoped he would show mercy, sneakily attaching the collar to a lower bar on the cage to give you more breathing room. As you felt the spikes dig farther into your skin that dream dashed from your mind. You choked back a sob as you heard the clasp click into place behind you, Ren planting a fleeting kiss to the top of your head as he did so, his way of begging forgiveness for the pain he was helping inflict

Sitting with your back completely straight, you kept your legs tucked under you, the full weight of your body supported by your knees. The slightest bit of slouching, leaning, or turning your head would plunge the spikes into your already torn up neck, amplifying your suffering. Locked into place, you were left with no choice but to sit at attention.

Maybe you could have unclasped the collar yourself for a bit of reprieve, you were sure after some blind fumbling you could figure out how to free yourself. But stuck behind a formidable lock with Strade on the other side, what would be the point? There was no place for you to run to, and if you disobeyed Strade at this point you were a sitting duck. A heavy sense of resignation settled in your soul. You no longer fought the tears that came to your eyes, letting them freely dribble down your checks to land in soft drops on your lap.

With no hope of escape, that left you with one option to get through this-endure.

“Überraschung,” Strade exclaimed, throwing his hands in the air as he stared down at you with wild, manic eyes. “What a sight this is! I must say (Name), even though your overall your obedience has improved, you still have quite the rebellious streak, don’t you?” He leaned down to get a better view of you, breathing deeply as his face began turning red from excitement, “Not that I don’t like when you get feisty, training and domesticating wild animals is something I take great pleasure in after all. But I have to say, seeing you like this?” He released an elongated, low whistle. “Schön. Keeping you has been worth it for moments like this. You really are a treat, behavioral issues and all.”

He exhaled as he slowly rose to his feet, his eyes never once leaving yours. “This is good, natural even. You belong here, (Name). Chained up like that… You’re right where you are supposed to be.”

His words were shaky, his composure slipping as his tongue trailed his bottom lip. The flush of his cheeks was now also creeping down his neck, ardent lust seeping from his expression. You shivered. Were it not for these bars separating you, you loathed to think what atrocities he would commit against you in this amped up state.

You bit back the retort that threatened to spill from your quivering jaw, biting so hard on your bottom lip you tasted blood. You hated him, loathed him with your entirety, but you also understood that one misspoken word was all it would take for you to be swapped with whatever unfortunate soul was tied to that pole. Despite it all, you still wanted to live. Clinging to the hope that someday you would get the chance to leave this place behind and return to the life that was stolen from you.

Making your freedom a reality was your daily affirmation you repeated to yourself, the one thing that truly kept you going. You made a promise to yourself that Strade would someday turn into nothing more than a horrible nightmare, a dirty smear in your past, and you very much intended to keep that promise. You would someday live out the rest of your life happy and safe, surrounded by friends and family, people you loved and who would love you in turn. Maybe you would even get married, have a kid or two.

Part of you knew thinking that way was foolish, and it usually caused you more despair than bringing you any true peace. But even if it was a silly dream, it was all you had. Strade has already stolen everything else, so you clung to your dream as your only salvation, relying on it as a means of survival.  

You had to make it through this, you had to get away and rebuild yourself from the shattered pieces Strade had broken you into. Not just for yourself, but for everyone he had ever murdered and brutalized. It was the only way you could beat him. It was the only way you could win.

“Well, no point in making any of us wait any longer,” Strade announced as he turned on his heel, making his way over to the slumped form in the center of the room. Your heart went out to them as he directed his full attention their way, staring down at them with a crazed, bloodthirsty smile. “This is pretty new for me too, ya know? Usually this is ‘me’ time, moments I can work and enjoy myself with the new friends I bring in in peace. But having a live audience? That’s sure gonna add some thrill to this.”

He turned his attention back towards you and Ren, his face glowing in excitement. “And I figured what the hell! It’s Christmas, right? Why be greedy when I can share in the celebration!  Ren already loves watching my little home movies, so I thought, ‘why not do a special live performance for my two favorite individuals?’”

Your body lurched in horror as Strade abruptly kicked his hostage square in the stomach, the force of it waking them with an agonized groan. You gasped as they coughed in pain, spit and blood sputtering from their mouth as slowly they came to. You watched on in morbid silence, a frown spreading across your lips when as you noticed the dawning horror that came over them. They were no longer in an ignorant fog of sleep, fully aware now that something truly dreadful was about to happen to them. 

Terrified recognition filled their eyes when they landed on Strade. Instantly they started to cry, whimper and plead, leaving you to wonder just how badly things went down between the two of them before you all ended up down here.

Trembles wracked your body, each quiver faintly clanging the metal of your collar against the cage. How you yearned to deafen your ears, gouge out your eyes, or will yourself away from what was unfolding before you. The mere thought of witnessing the oncoming torture, reliving your own capture through this doomed sod…  it was all too much. If given the opportunity, you would have done anything to flee and hide.

But there was no running from this. You couldn’t turn away. You couldn’t do anything at all.

“Hey buddy, calm down!” Strade spoke in a light hearted manner, invading the captive’s personal space as he crouched down in front of them. “Don’t you know it’s Christmas? Since you were looking so sad all alone at that bar last night I decided to play the role of Santa and give you a little gift! I took you in out of the goodness of my heart, because no one deserves to be alone on the holiday, right? And look,” He roughly grabbed their chin, forcing their tear stained face towards your cage, “I even brought friends to assure you wouldn’t be lonely! Pretty thoughtful of me, huh?”

You averted your stare as soon as they made eye contact, unable to stand the sheer hopelessness reflected in their forlorn gaze. Their whimpering and pleading continued, unfettered by the dialogue Strade was droning on. The desperation in their voice as they tried to reason with the most unreasonable man on the planet was making your skin crawl, irritation setting your face into a scowl. Couldn’t they see how amped up Strade was? Were they really so deluded to think their incessant begging would do them any favors? Did they not realize their cries were just exciting him more?

Eventually, you squeezed your eyes closed, wanting a break from it all even for a few seconds. Their naivety was driving you insane- a cruel reminder of the person you once were.

Suddenly, an ear splitting scream pieced the air, causing your eyes to fly open. The blood in your veins turned to ice as you saw Strade’s signature knife protruding from the captive’s leg, his hand still wrapped firmly around the handle, wriggling it further into their meat. The blade was buried deep, deep enough to cause true damage, and the blood that gushed from the new wound quickly gathered in a morbid puddle beneath their legs. If left unattended, you were sure they may bleed out, dying in slow agony.

“Oops, maybe I went a bit too deep there,” Strade nonchalantly spoke, pulling the knife carelessly from their leg. They released another sharp cry at the blades exit, squirming in pain and misery as blood sputtered from the gash. Strade continued to speak, unfettered by the gore that splashed against his leg, “But you weren’t listening very well when I was trying to talk earlier, so hopefully that’ll help you focus. I’ll try and be more mindful though, don’t wanna do too much too soon. You’re the star of the show today buddy, can’t have you dipping out on us before we even get started.”

Strade cut a piece of fabric from their victim’s shirt, tying it sloppily around the gaping wound he inflicted. It wasn’t placed as a means to help them so much as a way to help staunch the bleeding to keep them lucid for as long as possible. If there was one thing Strade hated, it was his fun being prematurely cut short.

“Well,” Strade slapped his knees, lifting himself up to his full height, “Usually I like to get to know you a little better before we get to this point, but what with my special guests and all, we don’t have as much time as I would have liked to become acquainted.”

Your eyes trailed Strade as he walked over to a tripod sitting off to the side. Your eyes widened as he reached for it, setting it up with skilled expertise as he had done so many times before. His captive stared blankly at the camera, clearly confused as to what awaited them. You couldn’t decide if their ignorance was a tragedy or a godsend. If they knew this was their final moment of relative peace before their violent end… Would they try an appreciate it, or would that just bring them more dismay?

After the main camera was set up to his liking, he made his way towards you and Ren. You stiffened at he approached, a new spike of anxiety rising within you as he fiddled with something in his pocket. It was your turn for confusion now, staring in perplexion as he pulled out another small camera, setting it up so that it faced your cage. After some finagling to get it just right, the small red light on it turned green.

“There we go,” Strade smiled, tying his signature bandana around his mouth after he completed his setup, his wide eyes gleaming with cruel intent, “Figured the viewers at home deserved a little special something, too. Smile for the camera you two!”

Shame flushed your exposed body as you did all you could to avoid looking into the camera’s nebulous, black lens. You curled yourself up as much as physically possible, revolted by the realization that other sickos were tuning in, getting off to an impending murder and your humiliation. How many people were on the other side of that small orb, desperately waiting for Strade to begin so they could scratch their fucked up itch? How many pairs of eyes were roving over your barely clothed, bloody body right now, pleased for such an enticing appetizer before they dug into the main course? You didn’t know what disgusted you more, Strade himself or the fact that he had enough ‘fans’ out there that were of a similar mindset, who avidly watched and supported him enough that he could live comfortably off live-streaming his slaughters.

After some brief adjustments (apparently your camera wasn’t focused enough, the ‘fans’ were complaining about not having a clear shot of ‘the bitch’s stupid, sniveling face’), Strade eventually made his way back over to the main camera, flicking it on and checking the feed on a nearby laptop to make sure everything was looking as it should. Once he was satisfied, he hopped in front of the camera, the jovial smile on his face noticeable even behind his mask.

“Frohe Weihnachten an alle! Oh wait,” he fished around in a drawer beneath his laptop, eventually yielding a slightly wrinkled Santa’s hat that he plopped gleefully upon his head. “That’s better! How is everyone doing this fine, festive holiday?”

Strade’s eyes scanned over the chat, laughing here and there as he read peoples responses. “I see you all noticed the new edition to the party. Ren, (Name), why don’t you give the nice people watching at home a smile?”

Refusing to acknowledge his deluded request, you kept your eyes to the floor, focusing on anything else but the situation you were in. Your legs ached from your balancing act, the impression of the cold cage bars long since deeply engraved in your skin. You grimaced when you tried to reposition them, the bastard could have at least thrown a towel in here for you.

Strade responded to a few more ‘questions’ before releasing a low whistle. “Hey now,” he chided, his voice holding a warning edge to it “I’m happy to share my cute pets with you, but some things only I get to see, yeah? Get your minds out of the gutter, the requests for the day aren’t for them, they’re for our latest catch.”

Strade scratched the back of his head, looking towards you with an amused twinkle in his eye.  “I think you two may be a bigger hit then our new friend! A little rude to our guest, but I can’t say I blame the masses.” He gave an exaggerated shrug, laughing a bit as he shook his head. “But enough talk. Let’s get this party started, shall we?”

He made his way over to his tool wall, his finger trailing the varying allotment of devices he owned. He stopped briefly, looking back towards the camera with lidded eyes. “So what are you guys feeling? Should we bust out our old friend the drill, or maybe something a bit more colorful, like the new handsaw I purchased the other day?”

The captive began to struggle with renewed intensity against their binds, thrashing about in a final attempt of escape. Their cries for help turned into wailing screeches, screaming and cursing as loud as they could muster in the hope that someone would magically hear them and come to their rescue. You hissed under your breath angrily, wishing they had never been caught, wishing they could spend Christmas with their family, wishing they would just shut up, wishing this would all end.

“Ohhh, we got a lively one~” Strade purred, grabbing a tomahawk off a nearby hook as he eyed chat, “and I agree with the majority here, it’s best to start off slow. Let’s begin with some little stuff and work up to the main event, really taking our time to enjoy this wonderful moment together.” He eyed the tool in his hand, picking at a remainder of a price tag that stuck stubbornly to the handle. “You may not believe me, but I only purchased this little guy to help with some pesky overgrowth in my yard, not to use on my company. Guess it can’t hurt to test out its sharpness and strength beforehand though, can it?”

Your heart palpitated as Strade stalked his way over to his cornered victim, mutely praying that some act of god would occur that would keep them from being decimated. He towered over them, thoughtfully musing on where he wanted to begin, what part of their body he wanted to mutilate first. He absent mindedly tossed the tomahawk from one hand to the next as he considered his plan of attack, sizing up his prey as if they were nothing more than a slab of meat. You struggled briefly against your binding in last ditch effort to shield yourself you from the ‘show’. But like a cruel child jabbing their fingers into you when you weren’t paying them enough attention to them, the spikes gave you a torturous reminder of the position you had been assigned to play in this performance.

Oddly enough, the stab of the protrusions didn’t hurt nearly as much as they did before. Maybe your body was adapting to the cruelties Strade subjugated it to, or maybe you were finally becoming desensitized to everything you had been forced to experience.  Maybe someday it would get to the point where you could be completely unfeeling, like a robot just going through the motions as Strade lived out his wicked life, you forcefully in tow. It was almost a comforting thought, whatever adjustments your body and soul had to make to assure your continued survival, so be it.

However, if the pit forming in your stomach and sweat drenching your brow as you watched Strade inch closure and closure to his victim was any indicator, you were sure something inside of you would always hold on to amity, reminding you just how painfully human you were, heart-breaking empathy and all.

‘I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry,’ you chanted in your head, fresh tears carving slick trails down your cheeks when Strade kick their leg, digging the heel of their boot harshly into their stab wound. Bright red bloomed around the fabric covering the wound, their screams growing gravelly the longer they strained their vocal cords. You did your best to hold back the worst of your sobs, rogue sniffles and hiccups escaping despite your best efforts. If there was an afterlife, you hoped that theirs was full of nothing but warmth, peace, and all the things they love. It was the least they deserved for this.

You were vaguely aware of Ren repositioning himself next to you, his head nestling against your shoulder as he wrapped his arms around you, shielding you slightly in an almost protective manner. Pressed so close, you could feel that he was shivering, his heart beating a mile a minute as it thrummed against your skin. Whether it was from fear, excitement, or both, you were unable to say.

Strade turned around, giving you one last mirthful glance as he readied his tomahawk over the toes of his captive’s right foot.  Though they squirmed intensely, he held a death grip on the limb, keeping them from breaking free. “Make sure to pay close attention now,” desire radiated from his demeanor, voice husky as narrowed eyes briefly roved your restrained form “and don’t feel too neglected over there, I’ll make sure to save some of the fun juuust for you once I finish with our pal over here.”

His eyes darted to the camera, shooting it a look of mock sympathy “For my eyes only of course, you all understand right? Thank you for being here friends, and Frohe Weihnachten für mich!~”

He slammed the blade down. A blood curdling scream erupted from the center of the room as their toes disconnected from the rest of their foot, signaling the beginning of their end.

And you sat like a statue, cold and rigid as your unwilling eyes bore witness to each act of savagery.

[overnowsfcb]

halfway out the door; fermín lópez

summary: fighting to keep a little flame alive underwater, you couldn't lose the only stable thing in your life

warnings: ANGST!!! (no good ending) mature language, mental health issues (panic attack, anxiety, emotional distress), relationship struggles, unhealthy dinamics, brief mention of smut themes. if any of these topics makes you uncomfortable, i advise against reading this story.

word count: 3,3k

note: hiii! it's me again, this time posting for my sweet boy (who is not as sweet in this story) fermín. im planning to do something with all the 1989 vault tracks x barça players. so take it as the first from the series!! also, apologies if the angst hits hard, promise to post fluff next time (its a bit of challenge for me haha) super excited about this and would love to hear your thoughts or suggestions! – venus 🫂💐🫧 p.s.: im so proud of this one tbh

He didn’t seem to have enough time for you anymore. You didn’t want to see the subtle twist, but you knew him all too well and an imperceptible change for everyone was an imposing earthquake in your world.

It was in the hours that your messages would be waiting for a response and the way he wasn’t starved to taste your lips anymore. Once, he’d find an excuse to be with you, even if only for brief minutes. He’d dash to your apartment bearing your favorite chocolate with the pretext of keeping you fed. A smile brightening and your stomach still produced the same fluttering butterflies, as the first time he kissed you underneath the moonlight at fourteen.

Back then, everything was perfect, the chill air in your faces as you ran with sand getting between your toes, you could still feel his timid hands and tender touch on your waist as you both shared a breathtaking kiss.

Your mother's words echoed - relationships don't last forever. You'd always dismissed her musings, attributing them to the bitterness stemming from your father's departure. But now, that thought held a glimmer of truth.

He was your soulmate, your solid backbone, he would hold the candles for you even if his arm grew weary, drawing strength from unimaginable places. Unseen pictures would fill his phone, capturing your candid moments, proudly setting you as his lock screen. One cherished memory stood out: a photo of you, pajama-clad, returning from a late-night ice cream run, a victorious smile on your face. You had lost a bet that day, darting to the store at 1 AM, just a street away from your building.

However, now everything appeared to be falling apart; the last picture in his gallery folder, titled 'I love, mine, mine, mine,' dated back to July, and it was already November. It contrasted the warmth of July with the chilling absence of recent affection.

Yearning for something to blame, tears seemed futile as memories replayed relentlessly, etched deep within your heart. Each sob felt like a painful reminder of the emptiness in the cold, desolate bed without him by your side. Staring at it blankly, your mind echoed the silent void, your chest tightening with every expelled breath.

Sleeping alone always felt unbearable. You reached for your phone, gazing at the lock screen displaying a snapshot of both of you in a summer pool. His outings with friends never bothered you; you accepted that he was now part of Barcelona's first team, and you weren't his priority. However, deep down, a simple goodnight message like "Sweet dreams, Pip, I love you" was all you silently longed for. Was it too much to ask from someone who claimed to love you?

The absence weighed heavily as you saw the clock strike 4 AM. This hour always induced a sense of dread, a time too late to sleep, opening the gates to wandering thoughts about life's choices. Moving to Barcelona for him might have been a hasty decision.

In Sevilla, there wasn't much to lose. Your little town overwhelmed you, especially under the weight of your living nightmare, your mother and her pursuit of perfection. That was until she married your toddler brother’s father, her focus shifted almost forgetting about your existence.

He was your escape from that suffocating environment. Initially, it felt liberating, but gradually, it became confining again. The cage expanded as you became his pillar while his name was in everyone’s mouth, especially girls who found him attractive. The weight of being his support, witnessing the attention he received, caused an internal storm. But he wouldn’t change you, right? Yet, the conflict brewed within, the tug-of-war between being the support he needed and holding onto your own identity.

You grew tired of waiting for him, tossing and turning in bed for ten minutes, before finally succumbing to sleep, cocooned in blankets to ward off the cold.

Abruptly opening your eyes, hours later, your body spasmed and your heart raced, reflecting the recent struggles with sleep these days. Observing to your side, relief washed over you; he lay there peacefully, an arm draped over your waist.

Tears welled in your eyes, a sense of loss filling your chest. Deeply in love, you realized your first waking thought was about him, albeit taking a negative turn.

What if I lose him? What if I lost the lighthouse in the middle of the sea? The uncertainty of the waters and the potential fall weighed heavily.

You wanted to get back to those times when you smiled as you landed your eyes, his body next to you, where blonde strands of messy hair framed his face and you delicately organized them while you talked and kissed every morning, staying in bed like an old married couple, feeling each other's warmth, laughter used to fill the air as he playfully booped your nose.

The weight of invisible hands squeezed your chest, making each breath a desperate gasp for air.

You didn't want to feel this anxiety; your breath became erratic. Rushing to the terrace, you breathed as if your mind forewarned a trailer of what has to be.

Struggling to regain control, your hands tightened on the cold railing, a reminder of the grounding reality you struggled to grasp.

Peering down, the height induced paralysis, intensifying your vertigo. "y/n, estás bien?" (are you okay?) His concerned voice, muffled and distant, struggled to penetrate the thick fog of panic, fear rooted you in place, afraid the floor would fall through if you made a step.

"Amor, háblame." (darling, talk to me) He approached, unsure. This panic attack was the first in years. His hand on your shoulder offered reassurance like an anchor, and you emerged from the state, meeting his gaze with your tear-stained eyes; he was still your gentleman. He was still yours.

And you needed to repeat it to stave off madness.

"Abrázame," (hug me) you whispered in a fragile plea. His arms enveloped you, he was the refuge that you needed; his familiar scent eased your breathing.

His head on yours, he sought to share his heartbeat, attempting to quell the sudden anxiety and the questions that haunted your mind. His furrowed brows hinted at his confusion, but conversation could wait. For now, it was about you. The one who never failed him; he couldn't fail you now.

When your body distended completely, he gently guided you back to bed. You clung to him, as if he could run away at any moment.

You walked to your side of the bed and he tucked you in like no one ever did before, leaving a sweet kiss on your forehead, an attempt to dissipate the negativity.

“What time is it?” you inquired, looking up at him.

“Six a.m., sleep. ok?” He stroked your head, and your eyes closed under the weight of fatigue. “I love you so much.”

Days passed after the incident. He chose not to ask more about the reason behind your anxiety, he decided to act as if everything was fine.

This didn't imply he lacked concern for you, but it certainly felt that way. His demeanor towards you was still unchanged.

Feelings unaddressed hung in the air, manifesting in the cold kisses and the superficial small talk that never deepened. But, in front of everyone, you maintained the façade, accepting compliments from everyone about your seemingly perfect relationship. Only if they knew the underlying truth…

Yet, you personally sensed his gradual withdrawal, a palpable feeling of him slipping through your fingers. The strain became evident as you found yourself having to repeat things that were important to you at least three times, only for him to continually forget. Or the lackluster pecks he gave you, making you feel pathetic.

Although feeling unwanted, you weren't a resentful person, so you would religiously sit in the stands at every game and witness how he gained fan's hearts with outstanding performances on the pitch, earning the title of man of one of the champions league matches and you loved how the stadium echoed his name as he made an incredible goal.

You found joy in his happiness, doing his thing with the team of his dreams. In that moment, your mind transported into a different time – those moments when you stood by his side, offering comfort during his moments of self-doubt, back when he believed his dreams would forever be just that – dreams.

His satisfaction meant the world to you. Meeting him as he emerged from the dressing room, already showered, you couldn't help but admire how his wet hair framed his face.

A big smile adorned his face as he approached you. Opening your arms, your bodies collided as he effortlessly lifted you spinning around, creating a whirlwind of laughter that filled the air.

Once he gently set you down, you couldn't contain your pride. Cupping his cheeks, you locked eyes with him. The sense of accomplishment and joy was overwhelming. Your lips met his in a deep, meaningful kiss – one that hadn't been shared in weeks, but in that moment, it felt like the perfect reunion.

You believed this moment marked a fresh start, a much-needed rejuvenation to propel you forward. That optimistic outlook, however, disintegrated after he bid you farewell at your apartment, scrolling through TikTok on your couch, a video of his post-match interview caught your eye, and an involuntary smile crept onto your face.

His voice echoed through the video, captivating in its beauty. The interviewer's final question lingered in the air, "Who are you going to celebrate this with?" Anticipating a mention of teammates, family, and you, you were bewildered as the final words left his mouth – your name conspicuously absent.

And in that instant, the realization struck: he hadn't kept his promise to do a heart gesture to include you in his celebration either. But you decided to let it slide; perhaps it was the adrenaline coursing through his veins that caused him to forget, and you were willing to overlook it.

You turned on the TV to avoid your thoughts. He no longer watched movies with you, and lately, the time you spent together felt like his phone held more allure than anything you did to catch his attention.

Without even mentioning that he wasn't fucking you lately, offering excuses of exhaustion from training or unexpectedly halting any progress when things got heated and leaving your folds wet.

But still, your mouth stayed shut, justifying every action. What you didn't know is that only one drop was missing in the glass before it overflowed – the last straw.

And eventually, the bomb exploded in the least suitable scenario. You stood by his side, his arm around your waist, desperately wanting to take his hand out and shout your feelings in front of everyone.

You didn't want to be there; you longed to be at home with your fluffy cat, who offered more comfort than Fermín did in these past months.

He was so smooth about it, engrossed in the conversation with his friends, seemingly oblivious to your distress. You whispered in his ear that you needed to get home, you weren’t feeling at your best, the strobe lights blinding you, the music pulsating louder than your heartbeat. It felt like water was reaching your nose, and you feared you'd stop breathing any moment.

Yet, you stayed, like a naive girl striving to make everything perfect for her lovely gentleman. But was still that gentleman who put you above all else?

The voices and laughter from his friends overwhelmed you. While you genuinely liked them and had never encountered an issue before, this night seemed a challenge you couldn't survive.

Your gaze darted around, hoping for a savior amid the sea of faces. But there was no one.

The air seemed to get thinner, and your chest constricted, as if locked in a slowly tight embrace. The blue dress discomforting your skin, felt like an additional layer of confinement, fantasizing to shed not only the fabric but also the skin beneath.

It was as if transparent walls were materializing around you, and this was the moment to escape a place to which you didn't belong, feeling like a misplaced puzzle piece, you watched him again with pleading eyes, silently urging him to notice you.

“Fer, really, I need to go home.” You whispered, careful not to let his friends overhear. He scanned your gestures, it took him a few seconds to realize that something about you was off. You wish he had seen it earlier.

Everything he did was later than you needed it, when he did the things, you have already fixed yourself into the uncomfortable.

“Okay, let's go.” He nodded and he finally took out his hand off your waist, allowing a momentary exhale. Greetings were exchanged with his friends and you reciprocated, not wanting to show an impolite image.

Almost running, your feet propelled you outside of the disco, pushing people out of your way, without waiting for Fermín.

The doors swung shut behind you, plunging the abrupt silence upon your ears. Relief washed over you.

Closing your eyes, you took deep breaths. You needed to hold yourself like the grown woman you were and not cry. As the doors swung open and closed again, you turned to find Fermín, a frown etched across his face.

“Why didn't you wait for me?” his voice held a trace of anger, making you shiver. Realizing the street wasn't the place for such a conversation, you began walking towards the car, your feet aching from the high heels worn that night.

He hurried to catch up, the tension palpable. When the car alarm reached your ears, signaling it was unlocked, you opened the door and entered as quickly as you could.

Sitting there, attempting to adjust to sudden silence, you sensed his presence beside you.

Leaning back into the headrest, you brought your hands on your face.

He started talking again. “What's going on you?” you hesitated to face him, reluctant to confront those expressive brown eyes you memorized like the back of your hand.

As he insisted again to hear a response, anger got to your head. Without warning, you exploded, all the carefully restrained words meant to preserve your relationship pouring into a torrent.

“I'm just so damn exhausted! I feel like I'm invisible. I ache to be seen, to matter in your eyes again. I’ve been here, baring my soul, and it feels like you're a million miles away.” Your scream echoed, tears smudging your makeup. You saw the weight of his actions settling on him as his eyes reflected comprehension. A sob escaped your lips, he stood frozen. “I'm just asking you to hear me, to truly see me, and realize that I'm shattering inside because I've already fought too much alone for the person who I thought I would marry.”

He shook his head, a boy who had always the right words now seemed that they left their mind, leaving him defenseless. A hesitant pause filled the car.

Lips parted, but the sentences seemed to dissipate before finding form. It was as if they were navigating a maze of thoughts, searching for the right words to offer comfort or understanding, yet coming up empty-handed.

You got tired of waiting, you've been doing it for such a long time, you almost felt old. But if he just opened his mouth, you knew you would forgive him. “Let's go home.” You whispered, disappointed about a man who you were calling the love of your life.

He gripped the steering wheel and hit the road. Memories flooded back of the anecdotes shared in that white car, now slipping through your fingers like ash.

You pondered the absence of rain, almost expecting the heavens to open up. Wasn't it obligatory for the sky to weep when something magical began succumbing to rationalism?

When you arrived at the house, he finally was able to speak. “I'm so sorry for everything that I caused you.” He didn't know if physical contact would be well received from you. So he gripped even more the steering wheel, needing to make something with his hands, getting out the tension.

“What happened to us, Fer?” your heart-wrenching question hitting him. You were already talking in past tense.

There wasn't an exit for this situation, and he knew that. He wished he could build a time travel machine and make everything alright, fix the first mistake that led to this big snow ball that was making an avalanche. “I-I don't know.”

“I think I'm coming back to Sevilla.” you confessed, stepping out of the car. Your headache due to the tears that you've been letting out and your eyes were puffy.

As you stood outside the car, the quiet suburban street provided a bleak contrast to the storm raging within your emotions.

Fermín, still gripping the steering wheel, searched for words that could somehow mend the gashes that had formed between you two. The realization of the inevitable distance settled on him like a heavy cloak.

“I never meant for it to come to this,” he finally uttered, voice heavy with remorse. “I let things slip away, and I can't forgive myself for that.”

You, caught between the pain and the need for resolution, gazed at him with a mixture of sorrow and longing. The familiar surroundings of the neighborhood seemed to transform into a backdrop for the end of something significant. You already knew you were never coming back here.

In the distance, a streetlamp flickered, casting intermittent shadows on the pavement. You took a deep breath, the chill in the air stinging your lungs, and said, “Sometimes, we have to go back to move forward.”

His eyes, filled with regret, met yours. “Is there anything I can do to make things right?”

But the answer remained unsaid, it wouldn't be fair to give him instructions and keep rowing and carrying him while he was just there. Wounds were already too deep and your energy was drained.

You turned away, the distance between Sevilla and this quiet street growing smaller in comparison to the emotional gap that now separated you two.

The door creaked shut, marking the end of a chapter that perhaps, in the unfathomable depths of your heart you didn't want to admit that you anticipated it.

In the solitude of your apartment, surrounded by echoes of shared laughter and the ghost of a love that once flourished, you confronted the daunting task of rebuilding your world. The faint glow from the streetlamp outside cast a melancholic light on the remnants of what was.

Fermín, still parked, felt the shared years withering in the blink of an eye, something you had been discerning for a torturing amount of time. The engine hummed softly, an averse companion to the lingering regret in the air. As he drove away, the distance between your hearts seemed insurmountable.

You watched as Blaugrana, your Calico fluffy cat, approached you unawarely of everything surrounding her, you sat on the wooden floor with her purring next to you. The sparkle of her collar made you remember how your life was bound to be lived with Fermín forever, in that collar your initials were carved. You didn't want to fall back to this cruel reality.

You even commanded yourself to religion to save your relationship, months before. Night after night, you poured the essence of your yearning into prayers addressed to Aphrodite, beseeching her to weave the threads of love and passion back into your relationship, to restore its former glory. Each whispered plea carried the weight of your sincere desire, a desperate hope that the goddess of love might heed your call and guide your connection to the blissful days of yore.

But even that didn't work. And you realized the hug of what you thought would be a fresh start unraveled into the deceptive clarity of terminal lucidity. Now you would hear the eternal melancholic tone of the complete loss of vital signs. Forever.

[kuromochimi]

omg okay i saw ur requests are open so… how would bl boys react if their spouse got pregnant? can u make it angsty if you can plz😝 i like hurting myself

• MINORS DNI • MINORS DNI • MINORS DNI •

oh this plot fits our career driven boys soooo much (reo’s is his gf since I didn’t notice the spouse part from the request while I was writing his part)

Content warnings: angst, talks of pregnancy and abortion, a bit ooc bc these boys are toxic here, characters are aged up! Not proof read

Mikage Reo

Standing in front of reo had never felt as anxiety inducing as it did right now. He was your safe space, someone you’d run to whenever you felt uneasy and for the most part, he never failed to give you the comfort you needed. He was gentle, patient, and reassuring. That was… until you handed him a positive pregnancy test. As shaken as you were, reo’s world was also spiraling as he stared at the two pink lines shown on the test. Positive. He got you pregnant and right as he was at his prime as a new football player.

“No” was all he mamaged to say. “No? Reo you- you can’t just say no” you were sobbing, thinking of how you’d have to stop your studies and how you were going to have tell your parents. “I just… yn I can’t handle a baby right now. And my parents. Fuck, my parents are-“ his hands in his hair, tugging lightly in frustration. You wanted to get mad at him and scream and push him but all you could manage to do was look at him in shock. How is he the same person who cuddled you every night and bought your flowers just because. The same person who had you in his future plans and promised to marry you as soon as you both had stable careers. Amidst reo’s sweet reputation in your heart and mind, you often forgot that he was also as career driven as he was in love. Reo had already disappointed his parents once when he chose to play sports instead of working at their family’s company. Now he’s made it to a place where they can at least commend him for his choice. He can’t risk another disappointment. His parents didn’t even know he had a girlfriend.

Finding out you were pregnant, your initial response was fear which later changed to calmness because you were so sure of reo. You were so sure that he wouldn’t leave you hanging. Maybe you shouldn’t have been so hopeful after all.

Itoshi Rin

Your relationship with rin isn’t what people think it is. Sure you were married. Sure lots of his fans adored you as well. But behind the scenes, the marriage was arranged by his parents. That said, rin was never hostile. The relationship was civil, it was peaceful even. He did his thing and you did yours.

Later on in the marriage, you both decided that since you guys were married anyway, it wouldn’t hurt to add a couple more benefits along with having each other’s (quiet and to some extent, comfortable) company. Sleeping together became a regular occurrence and without meaning to, that led to you getting pregnant, something which rin had never planned on and something he definitely won’t be happy about. You weren’t happy about it either. Not when you didn’t exactly have a healthy family to give the baby to be. Acting fast, you scrambled to your laptop to schedule yourself for an appointment to get a check up and most probably to get rid of the pregnancy. Unfortunately, in panic, you left your pregnancy test on the bathroom counter. Something that rin was welcomed with once he got home. It didn’t help that you left your laptop in the bedroom for him to see your scheduled appointments as well.

Thinking you could get by without letting rin know, you decided to act normal upon seeing him enter the kitchen. You were preparing dinner when he walked in. After smiling at him and greeting him to acknowledge his presence, you went back to dinner prep. This confused rin. Were you not going to tell him? Was the test maybe not yours? Were you fucking with him? “Really yn? Don’t you have anything to say?” “hm? what do you mean, rin? Did you want something else for dinner?” He annoyingly nodded “you’re pregnant?” This made you freeze, dropping the knife on the floor, barely missing your foot. For a second, a flash of concern hit rin’s eyes but that might as well have been your imagination. “It’s a yes then” you gave a barely there nod. “Rin I was going to tell you. I also just found out I’m sorry” he nodded again “You were going to tell me? Sure. Not like you already had an appointment with the clinic, no?” Your face lost all its color. You weren’t even sure why he was acting so annoyed. Every time your parents or his parents nudged you two to give them grandchildren, rin would always act annoyed and irritable the moment you get home. He also repeatedly expressed his refusal to have children, especially not when his career was booming. Having a wife was one thing but a child? Entirely different. He didn’t have to invest so much when it came to you. He just has to be respectful, be someone to satisfy your needs sometimes, maybe even go on a few dates here and there. Easy. But he wasn’t a monster so having a child would take up so much of his time, something he couldn’t afford to give. Was what he always said. So why was he so mad at your for just taking one step ahead? “I thought you didn’t want to have a baby, why are you mad?” You semi-shouted. “Maybe I didn’t but you can’t just decide to get rid of it on your own. That’s messed up” “okay but stop raising your voice rin, you’re scaring me. You always tell me you don’t want a baby with me so I just assumed” “Know what? Considering you seem to want to get rid of it so quick, then yeah sure, I don’t want that baby. You have my card, use it for the hospital bill or call me if you need me to be there. You probably won’t though, right?”

a/n: I suck at writing angst but here’s an attempt o(TヘTo)

[abbysbunny]

LOSER!SHAUNA • 📚

word count:0.5k

warnings: making out

notes: loser shauna save me....loser shauna save me...

shauna shipman was a loser, a total utter loser . yet somehow she's getting to tutor the head cheerleader, you .

she had spent a half hour deciding what she was gonna wear, she had tried on five different outfits and finally settled on baggy jeans a t shirt and a flannel, nothing too special . the drive to your house was very anxiety inducing for her, she has no idea how to talk to you . she knocked on your door with her shakey hands, you swung your open with a smile on your face, shauna looked you up and down and noticed you were wearing a jean skirt and a baby tee, she looked father down and saw white fuzzy socks

'hey shauna come in!' you beamed, she stepped into your house and followed you to your room . your room was full of posters and fairy lights, 'c'mon sit on my bed with me' you patted the seat next to you, 'uhm-uh-okay' she stuttered . 'okay so I need help with history and math, and uhm i know your really good at those things so' you said as you pulled out your school books . shauna pulled her books out with you and the study session begun

after a half hour of back to back working and reading you started to get tired and you wanted a small break, 'hey shauna' she turned her head towards your way, she pushed her glasses up and hummed, 'can we take a break? just a small one' she nodded and removed the books off her lap, 'can I do your makeup?' you proposed . 'yeah sure' she mumbled, the thought of your being close to her make her palms sweat

she sat in your chair as you straddled her lap, everything was doing good till the eyeliner, your face was inches away from hers . the thought of kissing you lingered in her mind as you continued to doll her up, you shifted in your seat making her leg twitch, you giggled at how nervous she was, you thought it was cute . 'you're so nervous shauna!' you giggled once more

your laugh made her heart sore, you were such a bright person, she looked into your eyes and sighed, you continued to fix up her eyeliner, 'do you want lipstick now?' she nodded but her eyes were fixed on your lips, 'you my want lipstick?' she mindlessly nodded hoping you meant what she thought you meant, you used your pointer and middle finger to raise her chin, 'i want a clear yes shauna'

her mouth felt dry, she smacked her lips and looked up at you, 'yes I want your lipstick' you smiled and nodded, you slowly moved your head closer to hers, your lips brushed against hers, 'you wanna kiss me?' she nodded her head, she couldn't control herself anymore, she grabbed you by the back of your head and crashes her lips against yours, she whimpered into the kiss, the feeling of your hands sliding up and down her body was euphoric

she was so touched starved just your touch was making her sweat and her cheeks flush . you trailed kisses down her neck, sucking on her skin, she was such a loser and you loved it

[jakeyt]

Covet: Chapter 8 (Part 1 of 2)

Pairing: Jake Kiszka x f!Reader

Covet Summary:

Life was good. No, life was great. 

Was. 

Until.

Jake Kiszka crashed into the picture.

You welcomed him into your life—your home. 

Yes, he was your best friend’s twin. But, he was also the one who would end up disrupting your whole world with his attitude, his troubles, and the annoyingly natural way he lured you in. 

Jake Kiszka came with so much you really didn’t want.

At least that’s what you tried to convince yourself.

Warnings: MINORS DNI (18+); smut (!!); unprotected sex (p in v); vivid recollection of forgotten childhood trauma; feelings of betrayal; jealousy; anxiety; panic attacks; mentions of therapy; mentions of an absent parent; sam is an idiot; abandonment issues; light mention of being under the influence of weed (lmk if i missed anything that is triggering to you!)

Chapter Word Count: 16.6k+

-🌼🌼🌼-

a/n: much to my disdain, this chapter has to be chopped in half. :((( ugh. the last part of this chapter has been a mf monster to write, and since i already finished up this entire first half today (a little more than half, actually), i figured i might as well post it. so, without further ado, here is the first part of chapter 8. . .

thank u to my girls @joshym & @alwaysonthemend for putting up w my ass. you two are the realest aaaand ilysm 😭

Please enjoy the playlist as you read 🖤

-🌼🌼🌼-

Two Weeks Later

Friday, August 26, 2022

The wound-up ball of tension in your tummy was about to let loose. 

His thrusts were getting desperate, his heavy breaths were mixing with yours. And you couldn’t help but look between you, where your bodies met. . . it made your heart beat even more rapidly in your chest, seeing you connected in such a way. It looked so right. You felt full. You felt whole. In your drug-induced haze, your thoughts couldn’t help but wander as you thought of the final step to feeling close to him. 

Fuck.

As soon as the thought entered your brain, you had to throw your head back in ecstasy. It was almost too much to imagine. 

Your mind was so fucking cloudy– nothing sounded better in that moment than to feel him fully.

You wanted it. Needed it. And you knew this time might very well be the last. And you had to feel him in that way. Just once. You’d get a Plan-fucking-B in the morning. It was worth it to feel him in that way. 

Just this once. This one last time. It would be the perfect ending to this beautiful chapter of your life. 

-🌼🌼🌼-

Present Day

Saturday, August 13, 2022 

“Yeah. Not too bad,” you shook your head, as if it were nothing. But you knew your expression was still sunken and weird.

He studied your face for a bit after you’d spoken, his expression said he wanted you to say more. 

But you weren’t going to, and he knew it.

“What if I make you dinner, then we watch a movie or something?” He requested, his brow raising at the prospect. 

He’d do what now? Your tummy did somersaults at the idea of him taking care of you. . .and especially like that. Cooking for you?

Surely he had an ulterior motive. 

“What do you want in return?” You asked suspiciously, your tears evaporating as you squinted at him. 

“What do you mean?”

“You want sex after you cook me dinner or something? An even trade?”

He blanched at that, drawing his head back a bit to observe you. “Even trade?” He scoffed, scratching his chin. “What the fuck even happens inside that brain of yours, y/n?”

Going into defense mode, you placed your hands on your hips to square up. “I’m still learning you, Jake. I don’t know what to expect from you.”

“The worst, per usual,” he said, rolling his eyes and flicking at the tip of his nose with his index. “Your favorite thing to assume about me is the worst. Always.”

“Not true,” you scoffed, flushing. He wasn’t wrong. . .you were regularly unfair towards him. But. . . “You haven’t exactly been trustworthy the entire time I’ve known you. Think back.”

“I don’t have to. I know I was an asshole and I wish like hell that I could take it back,” he revealed, sending earnest eyes your way, swiping a sweet thumb across your cheek, taking time to appreciate your left cheekbone. Then, he moved to bashfully tuck his hair behind his ears, taking a moment to untie the hair tie from his finger to pull his hair into a bun. “I’m sorry about that, by the way.”

You got momentarily sidetracked by watching the action of him pulling his hair up, suddenly wanting nothing more than to run your fingers through it, just as you liked to do.

Then you noticed him, waiting for a response as you drew your eyes from him. 

Clearing your throat, you refocused your thoughts. “Don’t worry about it,” you brushed off, not wanting to harp on it for too long, for fear of putting your foot in your mouth. “It’s whatever. Really.”

“No, it’s not. I wasn’t kind to you at the beginning, and I’m sorry,” he continued, looking you directly in the eye, showing sincerity in his deep brown irises. “I was going through a lot and took it out on you and that wasn’t fair.”

Nodding, you took the bait. “You’re right. It wasn’t fair. But,” you walked a couple steps forward, closer to him. Then, reaching a hand out, you held the side of his face. Suddenly, it didn’t matter what an ass he’d been before. He’d proven that he wasn’t truly like that. And you understood hurt feelings making a person act irrationally. “I get it. I’ve been through some shit, too, and I reacted in ways I shouldn’t have.” Smirking, you looked past him and thought back to your therapy sessions from years ago, reciting a few of your counselor’s words that’d stuck with you. “‘All that matters is that you see it, own it, and then grow from it.’ That’s what my therapist always told me when I was a kid, anyway.”

Swiveling your eyes back up to see his expression, your heart skipped a beat. His eyes had softened significantly at your vulnerability, seeming to take your words in. His eyebrows dipped and lips tilted in concentration. 

It always took you by surprise just how much his eyes showed his emotions. And how interested he always seemed in the things you would say.

“Very wise words,” was his response before he reached out to grip your bicep, giving it a reassuring squeeze. Then he was moving towards the kitchen, calling back to you. “I’m gonna go make some stir fry. Chicken?”

You watched him leave, wanting to follow him wherever he went. 

But you didn’t. 

After responding in agreement to his suggestion, you made your way to the bathroom to take a quick shower and wind down before dinner.

-🌼🌼🌼-

The next morning, you woke up, curled in a fluffy pallet of blankets on the floor. 

Both of you, still in sweats. You, in a t-shirt, him, wearing no shirt (fuck yeah). 

No sex had happened the night before. Jake’d thought it would be a good idea to do dinner and a movie, but you’d had the bright idea to make a pile of blankets to lay on to watch the movies. And, of course, you’d let yourself fall asleep next to him. 

And. . . As much as you knew you shouldn’t admit it, it was fucking wonderful just falling asleep next to him. The act was so domestic that it should scare you. . . But all it did was make you want more. 

More you couldn’t have. 

But for now, you’d pretend you could.

Your head was resting on the same pillow as Jake’s, abandoning yours in your sleep for the sake of being closer to him. 

Though, rather than pulling yourself away, you did the complete opposite. You rolled onto your belly and wrapped yourself around him, one arm over his abdomen, a hand splayed on his chest and one of your legs tangled between his.

You knew it wasn’t a good idea to let yourself feel so tied to him in the midst of your sadness. It completely abandoned the idea of not being emotionally dependent on him. . .

But you also weren’t so oblivious to not see that you’d broken a few rules already. 

And, after your anxiety attack (because that’s exactly what it had been) last night, you decided it was better to just let yourself have this time with him now and not worry too much about the rules.

Rather than stressing about making sure you were following every fucking rule, you figured it would be worth it to appreciate the time you still did have with him. Because this wasn’t going to last forever, you felt it was a good idea to make the most of it while you could. 

It was going to be gone soon (too soon), and you weren’t going to take for granted the time you had left.

So, when you woke up, instead of immediately initiating sex, you took time to admire him. 

You propped your chin on the hand you’d put on his chest. Trying to memorize every freckle on his handsome face, tilted to the side, perfect for your line of sight. You studied him . . .his features, sharp, yet delicate. His tanned skin was perfectly sunkissed from spending the day in the sun at Sam’s AirBnb. His pretty lips, partially open like always. . . 

You’d learned that he didn’t snore a bunch. But, every now and then, like this morning, he’d let out the occasional, slight snore in his sleep. 

Usually, snoring of any kind annoyed you. Elsie was the worst snorer in the history of all mankind, and it always aggravated you. And any man you’d ever slept with who did it was always immediately woken up and kicked out of your bed.

But when Jake did it, it was nothing but endearing to you. It was something that he did that just made him him. 

You pressed your body closer to his- he was so warm. It felt so overwhelmingly natural to be so close to him.

You watched the way his eyes fluttered behind his eyelids as he slept, wondering what he dreamt about. Did he dream? And were they vivid like yours? 

Then, you absentmindedly ran a thumb lightly against his cheek, mesmerized by how soft his skin felt beneath your fingertips. 

Just as your pointer finger went to trace the cupid’s bow on his upper lip, he started stirring, showing telling signs of waking up. You stopped yourself before he could possibly wake up with your damn finger on his lip. 

Don’t want him to think I’m a fucking weirdo, you thought, resting your hand, again, on his chest. And I definitely don’t want him to know I was watching him sleep either. That would be embarrassing as hell.

This time, you laid your cheek on top of it, deciding to feign sleep for the duration of time it would take for him to wake up.

Not too long after, you felt a big breath lift your hand, then you heard his voice. 

“I know when you’re watching me,” he commented, his voice deep from just having woken up. 

You didn’t say anything, just lifted your head, an apologetic look on your face as you opened one eye at him in defeat. 

He had a soft smile resting on his lips.

“It’s cute,” he said, reassuring you, sitting up a bit underneath you to lean his head against the couch, balancing on an elbow. He reached a hand up to come gently through your hair with his fingers. 

“You don’t think it’s weird?”

He shook his head, his face thoughtful as he continued to look at you. “Not at all,” he replied. Then, a smirk grew on his lips. “The morning after we fell asleep in your bed—.”

“What?”

He raised a brow, as if to say ‘really?’ “When you fell asleep on the couch, I got you to lay down and try to sleep. Then, you yelled at me from your room—effectively freaking me out, by the way—and then asked me to sleep with you?”

You blushed, feeling stupid that you momentarily forgot. “Oh. Yeah.”

He raised his brows with a hum, the same grin appearing on his lips again. “I watched you the morning after. You slept later than me that morning, and I was so glad you did,” he watched his movements as he tucked a lock of bed-head hair behind your ear. 

“Why?” 

“Because you look so fucking ethereal when you sleep,” he said. “Not that you don’t all the time. . .but when you sleep? Dammit, you just look so peaceful. And I love that you feel that peace in those moments. Not all of the stress.”

It was your turn to hum in response, completely caught off guard by his kind words. You didn’t know why it still did surprise you to hear him say such things. It wasn’t out of character to hear sweet things leave his mouth, but it still felt like a gentle surprise anytime he did say something like that.

Then, something in your heart told you to open up. Let him in. 

And so, without considering anything else, you did. 

“You know, I don’t always sleep peacefully,” you commented, your hand now tracing circles on his chest. “That’s a sort of new thing. Good dreams. Peaceful sleep.”

His brow raised, questioning your words. 

“I haven’t always been able to sleep so well,” you started, apprehensively. But when his hand kept combing through your hair, and his eyes opened up to learn more, you decided it was safe. He was safe. You could share this. “There are things that happened in my past that caused a hell of a lot of pain, and for as long as I can remember, I’ve carried those painful things into my sleep with me. They’ve haunted me. Another thing my childhood therapist confirmed. The trauma caused me to have restless, terrible sleep.” You paused, remembering some of the nights you were too scared to be alone, sobbing and screaming in your bed, crying for help. Your eyes naturally watered at the memories, your voice wet with your next words. “Some fucking terrifying nightmares.”

You sniffled, trying to alleviate the oncoming tears. You didn’t want to cry in front of him two days in a row. But, here you were. Jake brushed more hair behind your ear, then put that arm behind his head to lean up. The other strong arm wrapped protectively around your waist. He massaged shapes with his thumb, into the hip he held. 

Your eyes closed on their own, relishing the feeling of him reacting so gently to you. 

They reopened when you heard him clear his throat. His deep chocolate irises were shadowed with concern. “You don’t have to talk about it,” he pointed out, continuing to rub your waist. “I don’t want you to feel obligated to tell me anything that may hurt you.”

You considered his words for a few seconds, but ultimately decided what you wanted to do.

“I want to tell you.”

“Okay. I want to listen.”

You’d only ever opened up about all of this to Elsie (because she was there), and then Josh when you became his friend. But the urge to tell Jake about all of it was far too overwhelming to ignore. It felt as though you had to tell him. 

“Where do I even begin?” You pondered aloud. “What do you want to know?”

He hummed, smooshing his lips together in thought for a few seconds, squinting his eyes in thought as he peered up to the ceiling. You tapped your fingers against his chest, waiting for his input. 

“When did the bad dreams start? Can you pinpoint an age or anything?”

“After my mom left,” you replied, curling further into his body. 

He accepted your motion, encompassing you, keeping you close. 

“How old were you?” 

“I was ten. Left me sitting on the front porch as she left in a string of curse words. . . Blaming Els and me for all of it,” you stared into the space just past his head, thinking back on it. You felt brave revisiting it at this moment, for whatever reason. “I can’t recall everything she said that day or before, but what I do remember both from that day and before that day. . .,” you stopped, your face flinching a bit at the dark thoughts. “. . . It’s not good.”

Your skin crawled, and you weren’t liking the feeling. Needing to center yourself, you decided to look at him again to gauge his reaction. 

His face was rather relaxed, keeping a consistent air of calm to support you through your responses. “You doing okay?” He questioned, checking in. His brows dipped in concern for a moment, waiting for you.

Your lips lifted, back in the moment with him. 

This is the present time. He is what’s happening. The past is the past and I’m bigger than it, you recited. 

Some of the words were those advised by your childhood therapist. Truthfully, the lady had had some wise words. Jake’d been right when he’d come to that conclusion the night before.

A quiet, content smile was on your face when you responded. “Yeah. I promise. I want to tell you this.”

“Okay,” he replied, his voice quiet like your smile. “Who did you live with after?”

“My grandparents,” you said. “And Elsie.”

“Stayed with them until. . .?”

“Until I moved out to go to school at Pratt. When I moved here.”

“And you’re going to school for. . .?”

You grinned, appreciating his variation of questions. “Majoring in writing,” you groaned as the last word fell from your mouth. “And minoring in music.”

“Don’t like writing anymore?”

You sat on that for a second, then answered. “It’s not that I don’t like it. . . It’s that it’s not my passion,” you paused your motion on his chest and reached down to grab his hand that held your body. You lifted it up from under the fluffy blanket that covered you both. Holding his hand, you traced his calloused fingertips. “I admire how you went after your passion when you had the chance. I wish I’d gone after my own.”

He watched you, seeming to measure your words. “And yours is music, too.”

“Mhm. . . But not playing it,” you added. “Just listening to it– studying it. Learning more about it. I love writing, but I breathe those melodies.”

He smiled in response to that. “Me too. And I like that you feel that way, too,” he commented, letting your fingers play with his. “But who’s to say you couldn’t combine the two? Become a music journalist? A lyricist?”

For some reason, you’d never considered the latter. But it felt as though a fresh breath of air had been breathed into you. “I’ve never thought of being a lyricist, but that sounds. . .”

“Incredible?” He smiled. 

“Yeah,” you sighed. “I wonder how you get a job like that, though.”

You let go of his hand to fold both of yours on his chest, your chin on top of them. He moved his hand to encircle your waist again. “I’ll help you find something,” he assured. Your belly buzzed. The idea of him helping you with something so personal to you . . . it made you feel everything all at once. “Somewhere. You live in New York City. . .I’m sure the possibilities are endless.”

“I’m sure you’re correct,” you agreed, admiring the way his breaths would lift your chin, the way his bicep flexed as he moved the bent arm behind his head. 

A comfortable silence crept over the two of you, him so obviously watching you– admiring you. It couldn’t be mistaken for anything else. 

His next words confirmed it. 

“Even in the grayness of this morning, you shine so bright,” he said, almost absentmindedly. “You fucking glow, y/n. You’re just brilliant.”

Not sure what to even begin to say to that, all you could utter was, “Thank you.” The sound of tears in your throat, behind your response, was a surprise, though. 

“Has no one ever told you?”

“Well, Josh says sweet things like that. And Elsie is great at encouraging me, too. . . But hearing you say something like that. . . those words. It just feels good. I don’t know,” you shook your head, a tear falling to meet his tanned chest. “And no one has ever said those exact words to me, no.”

“You are all of that and more, my lo—,” he cleared his throat. “You are so many things wrapped in one, y/n. So many fantastic things.”

“Stop,” you sniffed, for the second time that morning. More tears fell onto his chest. “You don’t have to say things like that. I promise I’ll still want to have sex with you if you don’t,” you laughed, wiping your leftover tears. The words sounded funny (true, but still funny) as they left your mouth. 

“I want to tell you those things,” he said, firm in his response. “You deserve to hear those good things. Sex or not.”

“Thank you,” again, was all you could say. 

“But the sex is pretty good,” he smirked as he said the words, his eyes glinting mischievously as he skirted a hand up the back of your shirt, skating fingers along your bare back. His eyes found yours when he got closer to your shoulders. “No bra?”

“You know I don’t wear one when I sleep.”

“So I’m assuming you knew we were gonna fall asleep out here?” 

“Mhm.”

“And you still let it happen?”

I did. . . And even though I shouldn’t, I keep breaking all of my own stupid rules, you thought in defeat.

“Wanted it to,” you remarked.

He hummed, watching you with a curious look in his beautiful eyes. You knew he was most probably thinking the same thing as you. 

But, all he said next was, “Can I ask you more questions?”

“Yeah,” you whispered in the quietness of the morning. The rumbling of thunder outside, followed by the pitter-patter of rain droplets against the living room window made goosebumps grow on your skin. “Nothing better than a quiet, rainy morning.”

“You are correct,” he replied in an approving tone. “So. . .your mother. . . Is it okay if I ask about her?”

“Yes,” your lips quirked. “I’ve already told you as much, silly.”

“I know, I know. . . It’s just a lot, I’m sure.”

You nodded to confirm. “It is. But I want to share this with you.”

“Thank you.”

“For trauma dumping?” You giggled. 

“For trusting me,” he said, serious in his reply. His eyes flicked to every inch of your face, taking you in. His hand, now massaging the tension from your neck. 

Miraculous that he just seemed to know the place where your tension settled. 

Not that it wasn’t a common place for tension to reside. But you wondered if he’d noticed you favoring the bottom of your neck during tense situations, over time.

Your heart hammered at the intimacy of the moment. You were so close to just leaning up and kissing him, but you didn’t want to cut conversation short. It was too enjoyable for you. 

It felt so freeing.

Trying to bring you both back to the topic at hand, you inquired. “What was your question about my mom?”

“Oh, yes,” he refocused, his hand now moving up to massage the roots at the base of your head. More goosebumps grew at the sensation. “Do you still talk to her?”

“Uh, no. Haven’t even seen the woman since she left. She hurt me so bad back then. . .I’ve kind of closed off the fact that she even exists,” you said. “She wouldn’t want to hear from me anyway.”

“That’s terrible.”

“It’s true. I’m just glad for the family I do still have,” you paused, deciding if you wanted to tack on the other words you were thinking. There was no reason not to, you’d already bared so much to him in a span of minutes. “Glad I have those people who want me.”

“I want you,” he wrapped a hand at the back of your neck, cupping the back of your head as one thumb rubbed over your pulse point. His eyes bore into yours, begging you to understand the words.

The next few moments were quiet and filled with everything left unsaid. What it was that remained unsaid, you didn’t know. Or maybe you did know.

He eventually let go, clearing his throat to show he was moving on. “Does Elsie feel the same? Closed off and all that?”

You blinked a couple times before responding. 

“Y-yeah. Pretty much. She and I are on the same wavelength about 98 percent of the time.”

“Imagine 100 percent of the time,” he blew out a breath, his eyes getting big as he stared off. 

“Twin life?”

He looked back at you, a grin on his pretty lips. “Twin life,” he confirmed. Pensiveness painted his features, then he spoke again. “Speaking of . . . Did you meet Josh at the record store?”

“Yes,” you responded. “Almost 4 years ago.”

“I’m jealous.”

“That I had that time with Josh while you missed him so bad?”

“Psh,” he said, rolling his eyes. “No. I’ve spent enough time with that fucker through the years,” he snickered, winking at you. “I’m jealous that he got all that time with you. Getting to know you while I was in Illinois, wasting away.”

Your tummy lit up with butterflies again. But you treaded carefully with this topic. You didn’t need him making any assumptions about Josh again.

There was no reason for him to be jealous. And honestly, you wanted to show him as much.  

“Well, you shouldn’t get too jealous,” you said, moving from laying down. You positioned your legs on either side of his hips, then sat your ass on the tops of his thighs, opening yourself up to him. 

He took in a sharp breath, and smoothed his hands over the tops of your thighs, then slipped his hands past the waistband of your sweats, giving your ass a generous squeeze.

“Why’s that?” He asked, his brow lifting in question. He brought himself up a little more, leaning against the couch. As he moved to sit up, he used his hands on your ass to push your crotch against his hardening cock. 

The wet arousal in your panties pressed against you. You gasped at the feeling. 

His lip curled to show his top row of perfectly straight, white teeth. 

So fucking handsome.

“Well,” you ground your hips against him, his head lolling back momentarily. He got back by bucking up into you, just the slightest bit. It caused a breathy moan to leave your lips. “He will never have me like this, for one,” you wrapped your arms around his neck, bringing his face closer to your chest. “I only want you like this, Jake.”

Fuck. That felt so genuine slipping from your lips. And you wouldn’t tell him this (you could barely admit it to yourself), but you really did only want him. Like, in general. Out of all other men, he was the only one you craved. 

When did that even happen?! Your incredulous thoughts could have taken over had he not effectively distracted you.

He moved his hands up under your shirt, abandoning your ass. His eyes were glued to your hardening nipples as his thumbs pressed into your tummy, massaging your hot skin. 

It was getting harder and harder to believe there’d been a time that you would have stopped this—out of fear and a bunch of shit. Leaving him on his own, and you sulking, feeling conflicted as hell.

Though, these days, you couldn’t leave him. 

There was nothing that could pull you away from him in moments like these.

(And that was a scary thought you could consider later.)

Your body was drawn to him, putty under his touch. Bending down the slightest bit, you curled your hands comfortably in his ever-growing locks. Your nose nestled into the part of his hair right behind his ear. One of your favorite parts of his body was that little crook behind his ear. You didn’t know why. . . 

But dammit— he always smelled so delicious. His cologne held hints of sandalwood and amber. . . And something so delectably Jake.

And God, you loved his hair. The citrusy smell of his shampoo. The softness of the locks. The length.

Fuck, the length.

Silly as it may’ve been, you were so glad he was growing it out. The longer it got, the more his heat scale increased. And at this point, he was getting dangerously hot.

His cock nudged against you, leaving nothing to the imagination underneath the layers of clothing. Anytime you’d move your hips to entice him, his cock throbbed beneath you, making your panties more and more uncomfortable with how wet they were. 

You felt his hands flatten, traveling up your tummy slowly. But just as he was about to touch your breasts, he switched directions, running his calloused fingertips down your back instead. 

“Asshole,” you whispered in his ear. You didn’t even have to look at him to know he was smirking. 

The little raspy laugh beneath you gave him away.

Your skin grew goosebumps at the sensation of his rough fingertips making soft shapes on your back. 

But you wanted his hands headed back in the direction they were before. 

Your nipples were blatantly expanding the fabric of your t-shirt, begging for him. 

And, when you pulled away to observe his face, he was already waiting for you, his eyes burning into yours, all the way down to your heart. 

Though. . .he didn’t stay there for long. He let his gaze travel back down to your breasts, his pupils dilated, filling his iris almost completely black. 

He looked hungry and your hips were moving of their own accord at that point. Every bit of him you got was making you need more, more, more. 

“I love your fucking tits,” he growled, wrapping one strong arm behind your back and effectively placing you beneath him. 

Your breath momentarily left your lungs, making you release a huge sigh as he arranged you so your back laid nicely against the soft blankets and pillows. 

“What do you like about them?”

He groaned, smoothing his hand up your stomach again. His hand cupped the underside of one breast. You sighed at finally feeling his hands where you wanted them.

“I love that they’re yours,” he started, reaching his thumb to rub and pinch at your left nipple. “I love that the color of your nipples is the same color as your pretty lips,” he lifted your shirt the slightest bit, sucking one bud into his mouth, kissing it like he would your mouth. Then, he replaced his mouth with his hand, squeezing your breast as you arched into his touch. 

Finally, he connected his mouth with yours, his bottom lip slipping between your lips to deepen it just a bit. You moaned into his mouth as he did yours. Then, he pulled away, leaning on his forearm. Switching between tits with one hand, he cupped the bottom of each, moving his hand under them enough to watch them jiggle. “And I love watching them bounce as I’m fucking you.”

“Shit, Jake,” you moaned, pushing yourself further into his hand. You were aching for him to be inside of you. “Fuck me so you can see what you like, baby.”

He sat up, slipped his sweats (there having been no underwear underneath, apparently) down his thighs, thick cock springing free. The sight made your belly swirl and your center wet with need. 

Once he was completely naked, he repositioned above you. 

But your skin was itching with the feeling of still being clothed. You needed to feel his warm skin against your own.

“Move,” you motioned for him to back up. You sat up as he took the hint, sitting back on his knees beside you.

His eyebrows wrinkled and his eyes grew worried. “Where are you go—?”

But he went silent as the t-shirt left your body and your bare chest flashed at him. And as you stripped yourself of the shirt, your boobs bounced a little, just as he liked. 

“Fuck,” he groaned, reaching for himself. You watched, your throat tightening, as he looked down at his shaft, his mouth falling open, just slightly, as he gave himself a couple of short, quick pumps. 

Dear God.

But he seemed dissatisfied.

And when you’d normally stop him and tell him to let you do it instead, you didn’t this time. 

But it seemed he still wanted your help.

You just sat in awe as he stretched his hand out to you. You were still as a statue as he gripped your chin, pulling it down the slightest bit. You followed his lead and opened your mouth more with his gesture. Then, you watched as he moved the hand, palm open, in front of your mouth. 

“Spit for me, baby,” he nodded at the hand in front of you. 

You didn’t argue, doing as you were told, heart racing as you spit in his hand. 

After you’d done what he wanted, he wrapped the hand around the base of his thick cock, giving himself a few long strokes from his skilled hand.

Though, as soon as he threw his head back with one particularly generous, tight-fisted move, you decided that it was officially past time to get naked.

You made quick work of your sweats, his eyes flicking up to watch you pull them off in a flurry. Then you hooked your fingers into your soaked underwear, getting them off as fast as possible.

You wanted to be the one to please, rather than his hand. 

You were growing jealous of the fist, as it held his pretty dick the way your pussy was aching to. 

When you were finally just as bare as he was, you laid on your back again. You spread one leg wide to open up for him, keeping the other flat, against your heap of blankets. In this position, he’d be able to see the bottom curve of your ass, your full breasts, and your slick pussy.

He didn’t see you, though, as he’d gone to focus on pleasuring himself, eyebrows drawn and whimpering a bit as he continued to watch his hand work at a steady pace. 

“Jake,” you called quietly, urging him to look at you and come to you. 

As soon as his name left your mouth, he looked up from where he was watching himself work his cock. After one hungry once-over from his dark eyes, he bit his lip.

“You ready?” You asked, slowly spreading both legs a little more for him, reaching two fingers to slide through your wet folds, shivering at the feeling of finally being touched. 

“Want me to eat your sweet pussy, baby?” He questioned, his voice a velvety rasp. 

Ready to please, his hand left his thick cock in order to move the short distance it took to be closer to you. 

“I want that pretty dick inside of me,” you responded, your voice exuding all of the need you felt running through your veins. “Now.”

And in a flash, he was on top of you again. His tip, damp from your saliva, nudged its way to the place it knew so well. 

Before any more words could be spoken, he pushed inside of you in one swift take. The two of you sighed in unison, relief flashing over his face, as you were sure it did yours, too.

He leaned both forearms on either side of your head, keeping his handsome face close to yours as he fucked you, thick cock stretching you well with each deliberate, hard thrust. 

His eyes were trained on your heaving tits, doing just what he wanted them to.

“I was starting to get jealous—,” you paused, whining with one particular snap of his hips, his dick hitting your secret spot. “Of-of that hand,” you said, your voice shaking on the words. 

His forehead was beaded with sweat already, ever-energetic in his pursuits—whether it be playing music or in the bedroom. 

“Don’t be,” he responded, pinning you with a stern look from his eyes, tone firm. “Your pussy feels better than anything else.”

The telling sounds of your bodies connecting only added to the ecstasy of the moment.

“Took-took y-you too long to get the hint,” you panted. 

“It was a few seconds,” he said, rocking his hips extra hard with the last word. 

Your toes curled with a moan. 

“Still too long.”

“Impatient.”

“No, I just know what I want,” you grabbed the back of his neck, bringing his mouth to yours in a sloppy kiss, tongues fighting to lick further into the other’s open mouth. 

With one final swipe of his tongue against your teeth, he pulled away. “You’re high maintenance.”

You were suddenly self-conscious, overcome with a feeling that you weren’t good enough for him. That you annoyed him.

You covered it up with a defensive, haughty tone. “So?”

“I fucking love it.”

Oh.

Your body opened up at that, seemingly on its own. You bent your knees, spreading your thighs even more, letting him sink deeper. 

You grabbed at his biceps, gripping them to give yourself some sort of grounding as he started giving all he had, each thrust of his harder than the one before it. 

It was painful and delicious all at once. 

Fuck he felt so good.

The way he filled you was unlike any man before him. He fit so fucking well, and your center never failed to grip him just right.

“I also love the way your pussy feels,” he said, breathing heavily. “You like how I feel?”

You grinned, feeling drunk on him. Your belly clenched, simultaneous to your center with each rock of his hips. Sighing, you let your hands move to hold onto his strong shoulders. 

“You feel so fucking perfect,” you sighed, looking down to where your bodies met. It was almost too much. When you went to look up, something caught your attention from the corner of your eye. You squeezed his shoulder. “Jake.”

A concerned look painting his features, he stopped, checking you. “What? What’s wrong?”

You smiled softly, cupping his cheek, rolling your hips once, needing the pressure of him moving inside of you. “Nothing at all,” you went to tuck his hair behind one of his ears, reassuring. “Just got an idea.”

He picked up his movements: languid strokes, this time, making you forget about everything besides him momentarily. “And what is that?”

You kept on when you could find the words. “I—uhhh,” you moaned, your eyes rolling back in your head as he moved to lay his belly against yours, knowing the friction would be perfect for your swollen, throbbing clit. “I want to pl—oh!,” you sucked in a breath, seeing stars for a moment. Once you were able, you continued. “Wanna play a record.”

“Right now?” He grunted, making one hard rock of his hips into yours. 

Your toes curled, still feeling the softness of his tummy on your tender bundle of nerves as his tip repeatedly hit your secret spot. “Yeah.”

He came to a slow stop, eyes trained on yours. He stayed there, watching you with an unspoken question in his eyes, eyebrows furrowing like they did when he thought deeply. 

“Is that okay?” You asked, trying to break him from his reverie, nervous you’d freaked him out with the odd request. 

“Y-yeah,” he shook his head, hair effectively falling from where you’d tucked it. “That sounds incredible, actually.”

Butterflies let loose in the pit of your stomach. Of course he’d like the idea. He loved music just the same as you did. 

He pulled out, and you instantly missed him. But you watched him lazily, dreamily as he stood up smoothly, and walked to the shelf of records (now a mixture of his and yours, of course). “Which one?” He wondered aloud.

You sat up on your elbows and watched him as he thumbed through the records, appreciating the view. “You pick and I’ll let you know if I like.”

As he searched through the albums, you let your mind wander with your eyes.

His body was a work of art. 

His thighs, muscular, from the way they flexed when he’d move his body with his guitar on stage. 

The perfectly round ass that was undoubtedly gifted to him by the body gods. 

And those broad shoulders that were strong to match his equally strong personality.

When he turned a bit towards you, his eyes quickly scanning the back of a vinyl, your eyes instantly found his straining dick. His tip, still swollen from being pulled mid-sex. Your clit thrummed and twitched, seeing how it now glistened from your dripping pussy. Dammit you needed him to hurry. 

But most of all, damn this idea for taking him away from you.

Once he turned to you fully, an Aretha Franklin vinyl in hand, you found his eyes. They were questioning, but you looked away from them to admire your most favorite parts of his body. 

His toned pecs and his solid stomach— fuck.

There were truly no words for the way he was built— pecs naturally firm and rounded with lean muscle. 

And his stomach— just a little soft and the perfect finish to it all, complimenting him just right— finishing out his sturdy, powerful stature. 

His aura was compelling. He was utterly beautiful, with his sparkling brown eyes, flowing chestnut locks, and sharp features. And the way he was built matched so well with how he carried himself. Without even trying, he could control any room he was in. 

He was honestly what all of your dreams were made of. . . And in moments like these, you wished more than anything that he was yours. 

But he wasn’t. 

And that bitter thought helped to snap you out of your trance, finally looking at him to answer. 

He was smirking, knowingly. “I love your body, too, Beautiful.”

You flushed, rolling your eyes to play off the way his words made your heart flutter. Glancing briefly at the record, squinting to truly recognize it, you nodded at the choice. “Aretha is always a yes.”

“Agreed.”

He turned to put it on the Crosley, and as soon as the needle hummed against the record, making its wonderful crackling sound, you knew you’d made the right choice. 

The sound added to the bliss you were already feeling on this quiet, rainy morning.

The combination of watching him walk back to you, with some of the most incredible music backing him. . . Shit.

“I hope you don’t mind. I skipped past the first few,” he said as he came back to you, falling to his knees beside you. 

You smiled up at him. “Perfectly fine. This is the best song on the entire record anyway.” 

“I think so, too,” he said, eyes lifting with a grin.

When he went to lean over you to pick up where you left off, you scooted over, motioning for him to lay down instead. 

Without question, he did as you wanted, and as Aretha sang of a man making her feel like a natural woman, you sank onto him, letting him stretch you so well. 

The look on his face when you fucked him was one of your favorite sights. He always watched you so closely. . .whether it be your face, your breasts, your ass, or your pussy that wrapped around him, so tight. He’d scrunch his brows and let his mouth open a bit with certain movements of your hips, and bite his lip at other times. . . 

But, in moments like this one, when one hand would be holding your face while the other gripped your hip, a small, close-mouthed smile on his soft, plush lips. . . His emotion-filled eyes, boring into yours . . .

Your world tipped slightly on its axis when he’d do shit like that. Moments like this made a whole lot of gray in what should have been a strictly black and white situation. 

And, as you listened to the soulful voice flowing quietly from the record player, your thoughts drifted further. . .

When my soul was in the lost and found,

You came along to claim it.

I didn't know just what was wrong with me,

Till your kiss helped me name it.

This song perfectly summed up how you felt about this man. The same man who had been the bane of your existence so recently was now a light on your darkest days.

And, as you watched him, his hips beginning to move on their own, making you feel complete and right. . . You truly couldn’t imagine your life without him. 

And not just because of the sex. It was him. Having him around made you feel . . . whole.

Without evening knowing or trying, he’d been helping you find missing pieces to your puzzle. 

Hidden pieces of your soul that you hadn’t seen in a long time. Some good. Some bad. But all you. 

Pieces you’d forgotten even existed. 

And by just being near you, he made you feel authentic in a way you’d never felt with another man. 

As you rode him, leaning down on your forearms to get close to his face, you gave him a long kiss. A kiss that you hoped said thank you. . . Because, truly, you were so grateful for him. 

But as you separated your lips from his and pressed your perspired forehead to his own, you looked into the deep pools of his eyes that held so much. And you knew you had to say the words out loud.

“Thank you,” you whispered, hoping he’d understand as you felt new tears cloud your vision. Your hips were moving on their own, matching the slow rocking of his hips. You were holding onto him, keeping rhythm with the song as you had this moment.

He held your gaze, a secret smile forming in his eyes as he spoke. “Thank you.”

You studied him seriously, the feeling in his eyes seeming to match your own. Both of you stayed there for a minute, taking the other in. 

You kissed him once more. And, rather than continuing the conversation, you focused on finding a release for you both. 

Just as another favorite of yours came on. 

The opening chorus resonated with you just like every time you’d heard it before, but this time it was different—better—as he laid underneath you, holding you. . . Staring at you with eyes that held the motherfucking world.

Like the sweet morning dew, 

I took one look at you,

And it was plain to see you were my destiny.

With my arms open wide, I threw away my pride.

Feeling everything all at once, you spread your legs wide, thighs stretching out on top of his to get as close as you could to him. Then you bent your legs at the knees, and leaned toward him, laying on top of him and nuzzling into that sweet spot behind his ear. You made yourself comfortable as you knew this would be your undoing. 

It always was from this position. 

And this song was just feeding into the emotions coursing through your heart, intensifying all of it at once.

Your favorite way to finish was in this exact position, and you knew at that moment, that it would take you no time. 

Fucking him at that moment felt extremely dissimilar to all of your times before. The damned music was untying every string you’d used to close up your fragile heart. 

While lost in your sudden wave of thought, he took over, knowing all the moves. He’d grown familiar with this position, just as you had. He knew your body. What you liked. 

He grabbed a hip and a handful of your ass, and moved your body down forcefully to meet him while also thrusting his hips up. 

The contrast of motion and the tugging at your heart helped every piece of you to get the much needed stimulation. And fuck if it didn’t make your thighs shake.

You whined, your toes curling as, simultaneously, his tip hit your g-spot and your clit nudged against the lower part of his tummy. 

“Jakey,” you moaned. 

“I know,” he breathed hotly, not letting up on his motions in the slightest. “I can fucking feel you pulse around me, baby.”

“You like it?” You sighed, still next to his ear, needing to hear the affirmation from him.

“Best fucking feeling in the whole world.”

Your tummy lurched at that, butterflies fluttered their wings. 

That’s how you feel for me, too, you thought.

And with one more strategic move of his hips, you saw stars. You felt every nerve ending light up. Your skin felt like static.

“Oooohhh,” you moaned, your body shaking. 

He groaned, whining a bit. “Y/n—I’m—.”

You felt far away as he tapped your hip, sinking into all things Jake, Jake, Jake.

You jostled back to reality right as he lifted you off of him, depositing you as carefully and quickly as he could on the covers next to you both in no time.

Just as you laid down, he was instantly on his knees, warm seed spilling onto your tummy, right where he’d placed you. 

You blinked and shook your head, registering what’d almost happened. Your thoughts were flying— going crazy. 

“Fuck,” he said, flopping down next to you as he slid a hand down his face. “That was a close one.”

“Yeah,” was all you could mutter, your heart beating hard against your chest.

Before much more could be said, he sealed the interaction with a slow, sure kiss and got up to fix you both breakfast.

Now that you’d had his cooking the night prior, you were really looking forward to the breakfast. You’d learned the man was extremely gifted in culinary— just as he was in music. 

But, even as the bacon crackled and the vanilla-laced smell of fresh waffles wafted in through the open layout of the apartment, you weren’t really thinking about his cooking. 

No; inside your mind, you were swirling back and forth with how close you’d felt to him. How sex was starting to feel so effortless and all-encompassing with him. . . And that coupled with how much you’d been feeling in the moment?

It was obvious he’d carved a place in your heart.

A big one.

But you’d worry about that later. 

Because. . .what was clawing at you more was one particular thought. 

You now had a nagging curiosity of what it might feel like to have him actually finish inside of you. 

How in the hell had you let it come to this?

-🌼🌼🌼-

Every year, it was tradition to have a family dinner at your grandparents’ house to celebrate a new year of school. 

But this year, on a whim, you decided to make it a little different. . . You acted on impulse and invited Jake to it. 

To your surprise (and excitement), he’d agreed with no hesitation.

And before the annoying voice in your head could say anything, you reassured it that him coming with you wasn’t a couple-y thing. 

Not at all.

You’d had time to think back on the way you’d started cracking during sex the other morning. 

And you had already started the process of tying your heart back up, protecting yourself from a whirlwind of unnecessary, surely unreciprocated emotion.

He liked having sex with you, that was it. And it could be that way for you, too. It had to be.

The flash of feelings you’d felt during sex a few mornings back honestly meant nothing— you chalked it up to just being caught up in the moment. You had simply gotten far too ahead of yourself.

As you got ready that night, you thought back on the few times your grandma and grandpa had asked about your roommate. You were sure you’d only thought to invite him, because you’d been subconsciously thinking it would appease your wondering grandparents. 

You also just really enjoyed spending time with him. That much you could come to terms with. And, admittedly, you really wanted him to meet your grandparents.

Of course, you were a little nervous at the prospect of him meeting your them (more your judgmental grandfather than your grandma). But, nonetheless, you were really looking forward to having him there with you. 

And, the cherry on top: Elsie would be there to alleviate any weird tension your grandparents may add. . . So, truly, it was the ideal time to have him come meet them. 

At 5:00, thirty minutes before it was time to leave, he still wasn’t home. You knew he had a few lessons today, but he’d assured you that he would be home on time. 

Though, you couldn’t help feeling nervous that maybe he’d regretted saying yes, and he was going to run late on purpose just to get out of going to dinner. 

Before your thoughts could get too crazy, you got a text from him. 

Jake, 5:10 p.m.: so I’m still working with this fuckin client :( 

But at the sight of the text, your stomach sank. 

I knew it, you thought, downhearted. He’s gonna try to get out of it.

Then, another text came through.

Jake, 5:11 p.m.: and I think it’s the time of day

Jake, 5:11 p.m.: but I’ve had like 3 Ubers in a row cancel on me for my scheduled time

He’s really pulling out all the stops, you thought, feeling your chest tighten, anger coming into play. Just say you don’t want to go.

While you were sulking, you noticed one more text pop up in its gray bubble. 

Jake, 5:12 p.m.: I hate to ask you to do this 

Here it comes.

Jake, 5:12 p.m.: but can you pick me up on your way to your grandparents house? I really don’t wanna miss it

You could’ve sighed with relief. In fact, you did. Watching the screen for a few more seconds, you contemplated waiting a bit to respond. Play the classic ‘hard-to-get’ and ‘make-sure-he-knows-I-don’t-take-this-too-seriously-game’ and keep him on the line. . .

But you couldn’t wait. And probably too quickly, you texted back. 

You, 5:13 p.m.: I’d be happy to. I’ll be there soon. Just send me the address.

And within five minutes, the address was sent as you were scooping Stevie some fresh food in her dish. And as soon as you saw it, you were making your way out the door, hurriedly making your way to the car. 

Why am I so anxious to see him when I literally just saw him this morning? You thought, as you started the car, hearing your soul music playlist take over the car’s stereo. Calm the fuck down, y/n.

But you couldn’t help it as you pulled quickly out of the parking lot, buzzing with excitement at the thought of seeing him again.

-🌼🌼🌼- 

When you pulled up to his client’s house, you suddenly saw the appeal of the private lessons. You were sure he got paid good fucking bucks to give lessons to whoever it was that lived in this mansion of a place. 

You were busy admiring the giant home, when you felt your stomach flutter at the sight of him, carrying his acoustic guitar case. 

Though, your gaze didn’t stay on him for long as you caught sight of the beautiful woman with flowing, jet-black locks, walking out of the door behind him, her pristine black dress. Her full ass, big tits, and small waist accentuated perfectly in the outfit. You saw her blatantly checking him out and saying something as she followed behind him. 

Whatever it was she was saying, it made him laugh. Truly laugh. His dimples were showing and his mouth was open wide, then he said something back. 

But he was seemingly oblivious to her glances at his ass as he continued walking ahead of her. The perfectly straight, gleaming white smile on her glowing caramel skin was wide with whatever he said and whatever it was that she was saying in return. 

Your blood was boiling. And it just got worse as you watched her come up behind him and lightly grab his bicep, turning him gently to face her. 

For a few brief seconds, you watched in terror, afraid that you were about to witness a kiss between him and this woman. 

Thankfully, you didn’t. 

But what you did see still made tears climb up your throat. 

You watched him sit his case down, and then saw an extremely genuine, heartfelt hug take place between the two. It wasn’t a quick, friendly side hug, it was a full-on hug. She was grasping him tightly, holding the back of his head as she clung to him. Her eyes closed as she continued speaking over his shoulder.

At one moment, her mouth closed and you saw just how beautifully shaped and plush her soft lips were. She was strikingly gorgeous. Everything about her. 

Was this her house? Was he giving her lessons? Or did she have a kid that he was giving lessons to? 

Whatever the case may have been, you had to swallow back every tear that was threatening to escape as he started walking toward you, case in hand again. 

She stayed on the sidewalk, watching him walk down the steps to the curb where you’d pulled up. 

Right as he got to your car, he turned around to wave at her once more. 

And then, what you heard him say through the closed door made your heart fall to the very pit of your stomach.

“It’s my favorite part of the day!” He laughed heartily, before finally opening the door to the backseat. 

His favorite part of the day? Was it being with her? Fuck.

You turned to face the front of the car, gathering yourself as you stared out the windshield. You were so embarrassed. For a variety of reasons. 

Your hands shook as you held tightly to the steering wheel. 

The back door shut, and you prepared yourself for him being close to you by clearing your throat and reminding yourself of a few important things.

We are not together. I don’t love him. God no I don’t, you shook your head at the idea of that. And he can be with whomever he pleases. It’s none of my business. 

But when he opened the door to the car, all thoughts from before vanished. The musings from your self-mantra and your worries of the girl had dissipated as soon as he spoke in his ever-raspy, sweet tone. 

“Hi, beautiful.”

You glanced over at him, a tight smile on your lips working to mask any worry that there may have been. Working to convince him and yourself that things were okay. 

You couldn’t help but ask. “Is she a client or does she have a child taking lessons?”

He ran a hand through his hair, scratching his nose. “Oh, she’s the client,” he said, his smile matching his tone as he spoke of her. “She’s doing really well. I’m proud of her progress.”

The next question slipped from your lips out of pure curiosity, nothing more. “Does she live in that giant house all by herself?”

“Yep. Single. No kids,” he affirmed. “Crazy, huh? Oh! I almost forgot,” he reached over the armrest and into the backseat to click open his case and get something from it. 

His proximity to you was overwhelming, the intoxicating smell of sandalwood and amber infiltrating your senses.

Please want me more than you might want her, you pleaded silently. 

When he was sitting in his seat again, he lifted to reach into his back pocket, getting his wallet out.

“What did you almost forget?” You inquired, trying to mask your ridiculous thoughts with a plain tone.

“This,” he held up a guitar pick, before opening his wallet to put it inside. “My lucky pick. I always use it at my lessons. Forgot to put it back in my wallet today. Got carried away talking to her.”

Fuck. 

Then, without meaning to, you caught his gaze. The a/c blowing against your hair and face, cooling you off from your distressing thoughts.

But your bearings were almost lost again with the sincerity you found in his eyes, and with the hand that fell to squeeze your thigh as he leaned over the console to kiss your cheek. 

Closing your eyes momentarily, you turned your attention back to the road right before you put the car in drive.

We are not together. Everything is fine. Whatever we are— it’s fine. Stop worrying, you chanted all of this internally as you increased the volume on Victoria Monet, gearing up for your playlist to serenade you for the duration of the drive. Drown out your ridiculous train of thought.

“I actually like this,” Jake commented, his hand still on your thigh. His thumb sweeped wide circles on your inner thigh, burning through your jeans. “What’s it called?”

Coming to the stop sign at the end of the street, you waited for the car on your right to go as you responded. 

“We Might Even Be Falling In Love,” was your simple response, right before you took your turn at the four way stop.

-🌼🌼🌼-

The car ride to your grandparents’ was slightly tense at first, but eventually you got over it as Jake started making his regular small talk. He was the same as always. Anytime you talked with him, he reminded you of his brother with how intent and caring he was about every word that left your mouth. 

But, for you, it meant more coming from him than it did Josh.

Jake was just. . .special to you. And you wanted to be special to him.

It was a relief. And by the time you pulled up to the quaint, familiar house, everything felt the same as it always did. You were feeling better. . he was him and things felt normal. Felt okay. 

As you walked up to the front door, him following you closely behind, you felt comfortable. And when you entered the house, it felt so good to have Jake in tow, the never-changing atmosphere of the home combining perfectly with having him near. 

You were giddy with the fact that he was there.

And it just continued to get better as the night wore on. 

Both of your grandparents greeted Jake with open arms, real welcoming smiles adorned their wrinkling faces. Your chest, warm with contentment as you watched the three of them interact. Jake, continuing the theme of coming out of his shell, as he made smooth conversation with your people. 

As you’d been standing in the entryway chatting, Elsie’d rounded the corner from the kitchen. And to your delighted surprise, Josh had been in tow behind her. 

You knew they’d decided to take it to the next level after the night at the bowling alley. They were becoming the power couple. So it made sense that he’d be here tonight, too.

Everything was absolutely perfect. Elsie and Josh being there made the ideal mix of people for Jake’s first time meeting your family. 

Then dinner came.

“Joshua, I will never get over how sweet it was for you to make the drive to us with Elsie a few weeks ago,” your grandmother commented as she poked some salad with her fork. “Didn’t leave her alone on that late night drive.”

“She is in good hands with you,” your grandfather agreed, making sure to catch Josh’s eyes to emphasize his words. 

“I’m lucky to have her,” Josh smiled in response, kissing Elsie’s cheek. 

Everything was going great, conversation flowing until your grandmother spoke next.

“Y/n, honey, how long have you been seeing Jake?” 

Your eyes stayed trained on your plate, suddenly feeling all eyes on you. You heard Jake clear his throat from where he sat next to you. Fuck. Of course she’d ask this. Assume that you two were dating.

To your relief, Elsie started speaking for you. 

“Grandma, they aren’t together,” she said, covering smoothly with a giggle to top it off, trying to alleviate any tension.

You took that as your cue to look up, monitoring the situation. 

“Oh,” your Grandma responded, a little smile on her face as she put an aged, perfectly manicured hand to her forehead. “Silly old me. I guess I just assumed because you were here together tonight, sis,” she looked at you, her eyes apologetic. 

“You sure act like it,” your Grandpa chimed in, motioning with his fork at you two sitting next to each other. 

“Howard, quit,” your Grandmother defended. 

At your Grandpa’s comment, you finally found your voice. 

“Elsie’s right. We are not together,” you stated, leaving no room for argument. “He’s just my roommate.”

“Harsh, kid,” your Grandfather interjected. “Not even a friend?”

“I guess,” you shrugged, looking over at Jake who seemed to be trying his best to stay focused on his plate, dodging any involvement in the conversation. “But mostly just my roommate.”

For some reason, the awkward air persisted, hanging in the air around you. 

Your words felt wrong. You knew you were friends (and more than that), but you didn’t want to get too mushy, for fear of being questioned further. You were trying your best to diffuse the tension, fixing it so he wouldn’t feel uncomfortable.

You were so fearful of somehow exposing your current predicament—especially to those in the room. You hadn’t even told Elsie of your whole ‘fuck buddy’ situation. Shockingly. 

She’d known about you two having sex that first time. . . But you had never told her anything further than that.

Honestly, you’d been too focused on Jake the past few weeks to even think to inform her. It was something that only you and Jake shared and you mostly liked it that way. 

You also didn’t want to tell her because you were positive she’d question the situation. Make you admit things you didn’t want to. Things you couldn’t admit. Push you to say too much. You didn’t need her to make it anything more than what it was. 

It was your little secret. And you intended on keeping it that way. 

Josh swooped in seamlessly, taking over the conversation with talks of all things music and film. 

Eventually, Jake tuned in to the music talk. He’d stayed quiet for longer than you’d anticipated . . . surely feeling the awkwardness of the initial question with you. But he’d played it off well. 

And as you watched him interact with your grandparents, the version of him that you witnessed made your heart flutter. Your senses were filled with all kinds of happiness. 

Eventually, you, the twins, and your Grandpa had migrated to the living room as Elsie and your Grandma went to prepare dessert.

You sat there, across the room from him. You, on the couch, him on the ottoman next to your Grandpa’s chair. Why he’d sat so far away from you, you didn’t know – but you didn’t care. You just enjoyed watching him talk. 

The way he got along with your Grandpa made you light up with joy considerably. 

Your Grandfather was a hard nut to crack. Not to compare the two, but you wouldn’t ever put it past Josh to get through to your Grandpa (because Josh was, quite possibly, the easiest person in the world to talk to). So seeing his easy talk with your Grandpa was expected. 

But Jake? Jake was just a quieter person by nature. Not in a bad way, by any means. . . He just was. You liked him that way. He was thoughtful and kept parts of himself hidden. . . revealed more of himself the more he trusted someone. You really liked him for all of his ways. 

But the way he was bonding with your Grandpa? It was just astonishing. 

By just being himself, Jake was making your Grandpa open up more than ever.

You’d never seen your Grandpa this way.

As you watched the three of them, Jake’s efforts to connect with your Grandfather honestly seemed to flow more smoothly than the other twin’s. 

Josh had even ended up leaving the conversation, going to join your Grandma and Elsie in the kitchen, as the other two seemed to be venturing into their own conversation. Neither Jake nor your Grandpa needed a buffer. But you’d stayed anyhow, too intrigued by them to want to leave. 

And, you just really liked being where Jake was. He made you feel so calm and happy.

You also just couldn’t miss out on the moment in front of you. . .you’d never seen your Grandpa talk so animatedly.

The way he talked about music with Jake was shocking to you, as you didn’t know he loved music to the depths that you did. 

But apparently, Jake knew how to bring out that side of him. The smiles exchanged with the topic of conversation were exhilarating— so joy-filled.

Then, to your complete shock, your Grandpa brought up how he’d played guitar for years before your mother had been born. 

“You played guitar, Grandpa?!” You couldn’t help but ask, as you quite literally sat on the edge of the crisp, floral sofa. “How come you never told us?!”

“Well, I never really felt the need to revisit that part of my life,” he said, sighing. “You two girls didn’t need to be privy to that. It’s all in the past.”

You shook your head. “I love that about you, Grandpa. . . I wish you would’ve told me.”

He just looked at you with his eyes, so much behind them, left unsaid and filled to the brim with an unnamed emotion. A sad smile came to sit on his face.

“Did you have a favorite to play?” Jake asked, looking at him. 

“I did. I feel like all of us do.”

“Yeah. That’s the truth,” Jake grinned, nodding. “Do you still have your favorite one?”

“I sure do,” he looked at your roommate, a big grin spanning his usually-sunken cheeks. “I’ll show ya.”

Jake offered to go get it for him as he watched the old man try to stand. But when he was finally on his feet, he waved him off. 

“Nah, son. It’ll be good for me to get up and around to get her.”  

As he left to grab it, you waited for Jake to turn to you. But, he didn’t. 

Instead, he just looked at all of the photos on the walls rather than anywhere in your direction. The living room was so quiet, you literally heard every breath he took as he looked at the pictures of you and Elsie as children. 

You cleared your throat, trying to get a reaction from him.

He kept looking around the living room, not paying you any mind.

It was awkward.

Why was he avoiding looking at you? You weren’t used to him acting in such a way anymore. 

Unable to take it any longer, you cleared your throat again, harsher this time. 

But he still ignored it.

“Jake,” you sharply stated his name, irritation seeping through your tone at his behavior.

When he finally looked at you and you met his eyes, he looked distant. But after watching you for a long minute, his eyes started lightening a bit, seeming to come back to himself just a little. 

You tentatively grinned at him and shook your head. 

“What’s wrong?” You asked quietly, your eyes searching his face. 

“Nothing,” he stated, his voice sounding far away, jaw clenching.

“Jake.”

He just ran a quick, stiff hand through his hair, looking ahead of him for a few seconds and then back at you. 

You didn’t tear your focus from him, trailing your eyes past his face and watching his Adam's apple bob in his throat. 

When you looked back into his eyes, your heart beat rapidly as his eyes seemed to sink into your own. He was observing you so intently, your nerves sparking to life under his attention. You shivered a little under his stare. His gaze was dark, something hiding behind his amber-brown irises. 

You felt vulnerable and stark naked.

Instead of shying away, you kept your eyes on him. And the more you studied him—challenged him—an urge started creeping from below the surface. You watched him swivel further to face you.

You let your eyes drift again. Down his body, where his legs were spread. 

And just as you were about to take him somewhere private to talk, maybe even offer him a tour of your childhood bedroom. . .

Your Grandpa reappeared. Jake’s eyes quickly averted from yours, growing huge at the gorgeous white guitar your Grandfather had in tow. 

“A White Falcon?!” Jake asked in astonishment, his eyes growing bigger the closer it came. “Holy sh— wow.”

Your grandpa gave a belly laugh, handing this hidden, prized possession over to the long haired man. “You can say it, son. Holy shit is right. She’s a beauty.”

“A 1960. . .?”

“She’s a ‘67,” your Grandpa replied, admiring the nearly spotless guitar. The gold accents practically sparkled under the yellow glow of your Grandmother’s lamps. “A rare one.”

“You’ve got that right,” Jake said, inspecting the relic. “These are worth thousands these days. Especially in a condition like this,” he commented. “But I’m glad you kept it. I would have, too.”

Your Grandpa made his go-to clicking sound with his cheek. He seemed to be agreeing and disagreeing. (Normal behavior for the aging man.) “I debated getting rid of her a few times here and there. . .but ultimately, I decided she was far too precious to me for me to ever give her up.”

You couldn’t help but feel every single emotion you’d been (uselessly) working to bury, rise to the surface. He had you completely enraptured. . . he was driving you crazy.

Back to observing him and your Grandfather, you lost yourself in thought at the man in front of you. He’d done the impossible. Not only had he started cracking your hard shell, he’d brought out something you’d never seen in your Grandpa. He had helped you to discover this bright side of your Grandpa that you’d doubted for years even existed.

An easygoing, free-minded person that had apparently been lurking below the surface your entire life. 

But it made sense that Jake had been able to do it.

He really had done it for you, too. You’d trusted him with countless things. Your emotions. Your body. Your home. Your TV shows. Your cat.

Jake held the guitar so delicately. But his hands were simultaneously strong and purposeful, making sure to protect the guitar. It was so similar to how he handled you. 

The thought made your blood feel hot in your veins and your legs weak. You crossed your legs, watching his hands hold the keepsake just right. 

The rest of the words exchanged were technical terms about the original price, what it’s currently worth, how it played. . . 

But you weren’t really focused on all of the technicalities as you observed Jake’s fingers on the body of the guitar. How intensely he stared at the instrument as he kept steady conversation, his voice, deep and raspy. . .

You didn’t want to expose yourself with how entranced you were by him at that moment. 

So, you decided you needed to escape as soon as possible. 

“I’m going to search my room for something,” you said, glancing at Jake— who, yet again, wasn’t acknowledging you speaking. What the fuck? “I’ll be back shortly.”

Your Grandpa acknowledged you, giving a little wink before going back to his discussion with Jake.  

-🌼🌼🌼-

Once you’d walked the couple of short hallways to get to your childhood bedroom, you sort of regretted using your bedroom as the excuse to get away.

You hesitated to open the door for a few long moments. 

You hadn’t been back to this room since that day in the car where Elsie had brought up the parts of your childhood that you’d forgotten. 

If you were being honest with yourself, it was intimidating to stand before the door as memories flooded back. 

There was the unnecessary screaming at your sister, coming back to you first. And as you thought back on that, you outwardly cringed at the words you now remembered saying to her. Terrible, hateful, completely untrue things. 

Then, you saw yourself throwing objects. Only ever at Elsie. With her being the person you felt safest with, naturally she was also the person punished most. In particular, a dent in the wall, adjacent to the door, reminded you of this. It was something that your grandparents and Elsie had always dismissed, saying it had ‘always been there.’ 

How in the hell had you blocked these things so intensely? Looking back on it now, it seemed as if those things had happened almost as soon as you’d moved in with your grandparents. 

To be fair, you had been very young and very recently grieved by the things which had occurred at your mother’s house.

Had it been a bad case of disassociation which had made you lose these fragments of time? 

Trauma-induced memory loss? 

Your childhood counselor had used the terms. You remembered that. 

Based on what you could vaguely rehash from those sessions, you probably had disassociated to protect yourself from the dark things. 

Disregarding what happened after moving to your grandparents’, there were several other things you literally couldn’t remember from your time with your mom. Distant flickers of barely-there echoes from a much darker, secret life. 

You were apparently an extreme pro at blocking out anything that may hurt you, and times with your mom and the things you’d done as a child were just that. 

Your eyes tracked the old wooden door, contemplating opening it when you saw the hole at the bottom of it. 

Another thing that had ‘always been there.’ But, right then and there, you could recollect the moment it happened. Clear as day. 

You’d been home alone with Elsie. Something had happened that had you screaming at her. Throwing things at her. Chasing her. If you were seeing the memory correctly, you had even managed to hit her with something. She’d gotten scared and the place she’d thought to run and hide had been your room. She’d been so stricken by the incident, sobbing for you to ‘stop, please!’ But you hadn’t listened. When she’d escaped behind the door, she shut it and locked you out. It had angered you more, making you release every last bit of bottled emotion with several hard kicks to the bottom of the door, resulting in the obscurity that now faced you, taunting you.

Then your grandparents had returned home, observed the incident, and decided that you both needed to immediately start counseling.

Without even realizing it, you were beginning to choke on dry sobs. Your breaths were becoming short and hard to catch. You couldn’t breathe. 

Your vision was fuzzy as you held to the door frame to balance yourself. But seeing it as pointless, your body going limp, your arms shaking, you slid down the wall to the floor. Putting a hand to your chest, you focused on taking deeper breaths, working to count each one you released. 

You pinched your eyes shut and tried to think of something to calm you down. 

Long hair that smelled like citrus. Smooth, tanned skin, glowing in the sun. A kiss underwater. A hand smoothing over your cheek, catching your tears. Soul-filled eyes, like dark whiskey, watching you closely and carefully. A body around yours, protecting you in the most quiet and intimate moments. The smell of sandalwood and amber.

But, right now, that smell was more present than it just being a figment of your imaginings. 

You slowly opened your eyes, still focusing on breathing, to find him right there, next to you. 

He was crouched down, a hand on the wall next to you, using his body as a shield around you. 

Your eyes welled with tears at the sight of him. It was like he knew you needed him.

“You were gone for a bit longer than what seemed normal,” he said, worry evident in his words. “What’s going on?”

Tears were escaping down your cheeks steadily. He took his flannel off, clad in a black t-shirt underneath, collar torn (on purpose?). Then, started dabbing at your cheeks for a few moments with his flannel. Once finished, he handed it to you, for you to wipe at your face with it. 

“Nothing's going on,” you gasped on a breath, almost bringing the flannel to your face when you stopped. “I don’t want to get it dirty with my makeup, Jake,” you gasped, still trying to calm yourself. But the relentless crying was making it near impossible. 

“I don’t care,” he went from crouching, to sitting against the wall, right beside you. His shoulder was a couple inches from touching your own. You caught yourself naturally leaning into it. “I want to help you. Let me.”

You didn’t say anything in response to that, letting the heartfelt words hang in the air around you two, laying your head on his shoulder. Bringing his flannel up to your face, you closed your eyes at the wonderful smell of him that lingered on the shirt and wiped your face with the plaid material.

Keeping your eyes closed, you used his steady breathing as an aid, trying to breathe in time with him. Anytime his shoulder would lift your cheek with a breath, you took one, too. It worked well, your chest feeling less tight, the tears subsiding. 

After a bit, you heard him speak again. His voice, causing a comforting rumble against your cheek. “What happened, honey?”

Honey. Your heart lurched in your chest at the name.

You slowly pried your eyes open again, focusing on the light beige of the walls and the way the textured paint on the wall made a sort of pattern.

“Nothing,” you mumbled. You feared bringing up the details of the way you used to behave. The idea of saying anything was embarrassing. It was daunting to think of exposing yourself like that. “Stuff from the past that’s embarrassing and awful.”

“Nothing you do is embarrassing.”

“Wrong.”

He snickered, placing a hand on your thigh. His trusty black hair-tie, wrapped around his middle finger. You traced the long digit, his knuckle, and then picked at the hair tie, pulling at it to see the skin beneath the band. 

Before you could do any more to his hand, he removed it from your leg. You watched, your head still leaning on his shoulder as he took the black rubber band off. Suddenly, you were moving from his shoulder as his body shifted. Peering up curiously, he motioned for you to turn your head. You did so, and within seconds, your hair was pulled up and away from your hot face. 

You looked over your shoulder at him, growing goosebumps as his fingers lingered on the skin of your neck. “Thank you.”

Situating yourself in your position from before, you decided on a whim to wrap your hand underneath his arm. You continued until you were lacing your fingers through his, his calloused fingertips wrapping around to rest on the top of your hand. 

“You don’t have to tell me,” he started, voice low, as if keeping a secret. “But I’m here. I need you to know that. Whatever the case may be, I am here for you.”

“Thanks,” you hummed, squeezing his hand. “Jake?”

“Hm?”

“How did things change between us?”

He chuckled. “Well, it started when you walked into my bedroom the night of—.”

You shushed him, not able to hide your light giggle as you used your other palm to hit his hard chest. How was he able to turn things around so quickly for you? Your body felt so light and airy now, calm and at peace. The foggy memories weren’t so scary when he was with you.

“I mean. . .how are we like this now? Cordial?”

“We started trusting each other, I guess,” he said, all joking gone from his tone. 

“Yeah. . .,” you agreed. “And as silly as it is, I think you were onto something with mentioning the first night we. . .”

“I don’t think it’s silly, honestly. . . If we are being honest with ourselves, sex changes everything,” he stated, his thumb tapping a light beat against your hand. He was right. It truly did change things. For good or for bad, you didn’t know. 

“And those Aretha Franklin songs the other morning. . .,” he pushed a breath from his lips to follow his words.

You gasped. “You felt it too?” Finally looking up from his shoulder, you ignored the voice that was telling you to not give into the moment as you turned to him. Because when you looked up at him, his dark brown eyes were familiar, honest, and real. You couldn’t help but let them be your safe place. That was what they’d become. 

It can’t be this way forever. Stop while you’re ahead, the voice warned. Stop giving in.

But you kindly told it to fuck off as you swam in his irises.

“It was impossible not to. The music and the moment. . . ,” he grinned, a dimple presenting itself in his cheek. Then he raised a brow, turning his head a bit, keeping his eye on you. “But, don't forget. We’re just roommates.”

You flushed. “I had to say that.”

“Why?”

“I don’t know,” you sighed, hearing them from his mouth, you realized that your Grandpa had been right about your words being harsh. “Didn’t want anyone catching onto anything? I don’t know.”

“It’s okay,” he said, his smile not reaching his eyes, but still there. His eyes traveled the walls around you. You could tell his mind was still looming on how he’d found you in the hallway, only minutes ago. 

The column of his neck hypnotized you, the muscles that flexed beneath the flesh so strong and sure. You were aching to put your lips on the skin, then his eyes found yours, caught you watching him, yet again. He lifted a brow, eyes flickering to your lips, staring at your mouth as you licked to wet them. 

When he bit his lip, it was over.

You couldn’t help it. Your breath caught in your throat, your heart was racing. . .

Without even worrying about getting caught, you angled yourself towards him until your lips met his in a kiss. You had to be near him. Needed to be closer, closer, closer. 

He gave it back, matching the force behind your kisses.

It continued like that for a few short moments, but right before you could slip your tongue between his lips, he placed a hand to your cheek, gentle as he held your face steady, pulling back to study your features.

He waited for you to speak. You both knew why he’d put a stop to it. 

And as if to drive the point home, Josh’s laugh echoed through the entire house— a blatant reminder of why you couldn’t do this here.

You looked down to see where he was situating himself in his black skinny jeans, your skin heating all the more. 

As much as you wanted to leave at that instant, you didn’t want to seem abrupt or strange by doing that. You knew it would be best to eat dessert and then leave. 

You tucked a couple of loose strands, having fallen from your makeshift ponytail, behind your ears. Then, you asked. “Wanna eat some pie and then get out of here?” 

“Sounds perfect.”

-🌼🌼🌼-

Laying in his bed later that night, sweaty limbs pressed together and chests heaving, your head resting on his chest as he twirled fingers in your hair, now loose around your shoulders. . . You decided to tell him.

“Earlier tonight, when you found me,” you took a deep breath, preparing yourself for your next words. “I was trying to recover from a panic attack.”

“Yeah?” 

“Yeah,” you said, pausing. As much as you wanted to look at him when you told him the next part, you decided it would be easier to keep your eyes on his SG, sitting on its stand across his bedroom. “I get them sometimes.”

“Why?” He asked, voice light and calm. 

“Different things. . . tonight, it was because I started having these extremely vivid flashbacks from my childhood.”

“About your mom?”

“Not necessarily— not this time,” you cleared your throat as tears pricked at your eyes. It hurt to think about the nasty, younger version of yourself. “This time, it was more about what I used to do when I was younger.” Tears were falling on his chest, your chest was tight as they kept coming, his skin prickling in their wake. “I–I’m sor–sorry.”

“Why, baby?” His voice settled your nerves. Warm. Soft. Him. 

“I hate that you have to see me cry,” you sniffled, wiping at the tears on his chest. But instead of letting you continue, he held your hand there, so you could feel the stable beating of his heart. 

“If crying is what it takes to heal, I’m here to listen to you as you wade through it.”

This time, you were crying from his words and the way his skin felt against your own. He was your safety. He was here. He was real.

He was here to help. Let him.

“Okay,” you breathed, trying to settle your breaths, focusing on the way his heart beat rhythmically under your hand. 

So, you opened up. You told him about everything that Elsie had reminded you of that day in the car; told him what seeing the door had done to you – and everything that had reared its ugly head all at once tonight.

“Wow,” he let out a deep breath in response. “I’m so sorry.”

“Yeah. I was such a fucking demon,” you muttered sadly, your heart breaking as the images and sounds were once again coming back. “And I can’t escape it.”

“Why can’t you?”

You wrinkled your brows, resituating to lean on your arm beside him. His eyes followed you, open and honest and Jake. “I caused severe trauma for others– just like my mom did. I made mistakes that I can never take back.”

“You said you were ten?” He asked. You nodded. “You were a child.”

“It’s not an excuse.”

“It’s not,” he agreed. “But you need to give yourself some grace.”

“Why?”

“Because you’re human.”

“But so were the people I hurt.”

“Who would you say you hurt most?”

“Els.”

“And has she forgiven you?”

“I think so,” you muttered, remembering Elsie that day in the car.

“I’ve moved on. Anytime you did any of that stuff, I moved on as soon as you’d done it.”

“You were in pain and somehow, I just knew it. . . I knew then it wouldn’t be fair for me to hold something against you that you probably didn’t mean. I knew the only reason you were acting that way was because someone else had hurt you. It wasn’t all your fault. It was mostly mom’s. You just didn’t know how to react to it.” 

“Then you need to forgive yourself,” he said, moving some tresses of hair behind your shoulders to be able to put an open palm to your chest, right where your heart laid beneath the flesh. “Your heart is beautiful. That’s what matters. Always has been, always will be,” he gave you one kiss, deep enough to emphasize the words. It left you dizzy as he went back to his spot, never letting his hand leave your chest. “I just want you to understand that people make mistakes,” he smiled, reassuring. “I’ve made a shit ton.”

You chuckled. “Yeah.”

“Yeah,” he nodded, both of you sharing a knowing laugh. 

“But," you started, feeling the need to encourage him as well. "That wasn’t you. You were hurting.”

“So were you, back then,” he reasoned, his voice soft. 

“I guess,” you relented slightly. “Elsie told me a lot of this, too, but I just couldn’t believe her. It’s hard to see the good in myself from back then, though, knowing all of the horrific things I did,” you stated simply. You held his hand to your chest as you laid on your back, not wanting him to move it. “I just can’t shake how I let myself forget it so easily. I’ve gone all these years not truly knowing who I was– who I am.”

“Have you ever considered going to therapy again?”

“No,” your heart beat faster at the prospect.

He could feel it, and reacted as such. He came closer to you, his chest and stomach pressing into you, more skin-to-skin to help calm you. “Would you consider it?”

“I don’t know,” you looked down at your hand and his, still over your heart. “Depends, I guess.”

He hummed. “Okay,” he answered, relenting from the hard questions. “How about you work on forgiving yourself and I’ll look into different types of therapy? Let you know what I come across?”

Your heart slowed down, the tiniest smile lifting your lips. Your hand gripped his. Your anchor. Your safety. “Alright.”

-🌼🌼🌼-

A couple days later, you sat on your couch, mesmerized by Jake, who was sitting next to you. 

Well, kind of. He was on the cushion at the opposite end of the sofa as you. 

All you wanted was to be closer to him, but you knew you couldn’t do that. Honestly, you weren’t sure you could trust yourself.

These days, if he was close enough for you to touch him, you were going to be touching him. Whether it be rubbing his shoulders, playing with his continuously growing hair, or laying on top of him (sometimes naked, sometimes not).

But you were appreciating your vantage point tonight. Watching closely as he played through some new songs with Josh. Josh would sing, and Jake would play the same thing. Jake would play, then Josh would sing it verbatim. 

It was interesting to watch them, bouncing off of each other creatively like that. 

Twin telepathy at its finest.

You were stuck in a trance, trying your damnedest to give equal attention to Josh, so as not to raise any suspicion. But it was getting harder and harder to resist watching Jake– being near him, day by day. 

Trying to find other things to focus on, your eyes floated across the room, observing all of the men around you. They’d all been growing their hair out as well. And, normally, a guy growing his hair out was not a huge deal. 

But with these guys? It seemed to you, it was a visual for their changing life. The longer their hair got, the more it was obvious that they were moving onto a new stage of life.

They were becoming rockstars. Truly.

Not only were they making music day in and day out, playing it live every week, preparing for a humongous music festival that would feature many huge bands. . . they were looking more and more like it, too. 

But they were still your boys. 

Never changing.

Sam’s ever-nasally voice interrupted your rambling thoughts, as if on cue. You smiled in his direction, pointing your attention to him. 

“Jake,” he started, excited as he looked intently at his phone screen.

“What, Sam?” He responded with a slight growl to say his younger brother’s name. “Can’t you tell I’m creatively processing?”

Danny let out one loud laugh, his eyes sparkling with a laugh. Josh joined in momentarily, then went back to humming

“Oh, fuck off, Jake,” he rolled his eyes, a smile still adorning his baby face. He trotted his lanky legs over to the couch, sitting between you and your roommate. “Look at this picture of Maya,” he angled the phone so it was right in front of Jake, but turned just right so you couldn’t see it. 

You giggled at Jake having to pull away from the bright screen to get a better look. “God, Sam,” he said, annoyed, grabbing the phone out of Sam’s hand. “Turn your fucking brightness down.”

“Don’t tell me how to live my life, Jacob,” he responded, flipping his hair and rolling his eyes. He turned in your direction for support, throwing a thumb behind him at Jake. “He’s annoying.”

You were still laughing as you asked your question. “Who’s Maya?”

“Jake hasn’t told you about Maya?!” He wondered aloud, his voice raising a decibel or two. 

“No, I haven’t, Sam,” Jake said, his tone clipped, holding the phone tighter in his firm grip, long fingers flexing around the device. “Shut the fuck up.”

Your brows drew in at his behavior. Now you were dying to know who Maya was and why he was suddenly acting so weird about her.

“I ask again, who is Maya?”

“She’s asking Jake,” Sam stated, as if he’d won. “I’m telling her.”

“Sam–.”

“Maya is Jake’s super hot client that he used to fuck. When he first moved here,” Sam clarified. “Still does, I think. I mean, who wouldn’t?!” Then he laughed, hitting Jake’s stiff arm with the back of his hand.

He was doing what, now? 

Chancing a look at the man in question, you noticed he was angry.

Seething was a better term. 

You could tell as he gripped the neck of his guitar, his chest rising with constricted breaths, nose flaring, staring at Josh, who was simply shaking his head in return. 

Sam took his phone from Jake’s hand, gaining it with some effort. But getting it in his grasp anyway. Right as he’d done so, the hand Jake’d been holding it in clenched to a fist, his jaw tightening. The hand on the neck became dangerously tight.

“Sammy. . .,” Josh tried intervening. His eyes jumped back and forth between each brother, desperate for there to be peace. 

Social cues apparently off, Sam was still smiling wide. 

“This is Maya,” he said, flashing the phone in front of your face, holding it there for you to get a good, long look. 

No. Couldn’t be.

The air left your chest, your vision zeroing in on the bright screen of the phone, everything else blurry around you as your head suddenly felt extremely light, body heavy. 

Surely not. . .

You squinted, taking a closer look at the phone before you jumped to any sort of conclusion. 

But the house behind her, as well as her long, dark black hair. . . 

You knew you were correct in your assumption of who it was. 

The joy that the youngest brother exuded was the exact opposite of how you were feeling. The giant stone that had fallen to sit at the bottom of your stomach was suddenly weighing you to the couch. 

You nodded at the screen, pushing the device away from you, hands shaking slightly. “You really do need to turn your brightness down, Sam,” you said, clearing your throat as it got painfully tight.

Play it cool, play it cool.

You were working so hard to hide your emotions. A small smile twitched at your lips. The tears in your throat made them wobble a tiny bit. 

Stop it, y/n.

Jake’s voice cut through, directly to your ears.  “It meant nothing—.” 

You didn’t look at him, only focusing back on Sam as he spoke. You tried hard to keep your eyes wide and clear of anything concerning.

“He still sees her for lessons,” he said, wiggling his brows. “What happens at guitar lessons, stays at guitar lessons,” he elbowed Jake’s arm, tense as the muscle in his bicep flexed, fist still bunched. “Am I right, brother?!”

Sam was the only one smiling in the room. 

The room was tense, Sam tucking his phone back into the pocket of his silky, vibrant button down. He pushed his sunglasses further into his hair.

You were frozen, not even daring to look up at Jake’s face. You studied your hands, then grabbed your phone off of the coffee table to pretend you were checking it. The frenzied emotions in your gut were not trustworthy. If you looked at him, you were sure you’d fall apart.

It doesn’t mean anything. It’s not like they’re still fucking, you tried to reassure yourself. Right?!

But then, you thought about him taking a while at her house. All of his excuses were adding up. 

Had three Ubers really canceled? Or had he just been too busy fucking her and lost track of time?

It made sense, considering the way she’d watched him leave. The hug. 

And what he’d said to her right before he got in the car. Talking about his ‘favorite part of his day’ . . . Fuck. Your chest hurt, the words making so much more sense now. . .

His favorite part of the day. . . 

Your vision got cloudy. What were you? Sad? Angry? Both? You couldn’t fucking tell.

You just needed to get out of the room. 

As you stood up from your spot, your legs wobbled a bit, your mind scrambling for the first excuse that could come to it. “I’ve gotta pee.”

Still not looking at Jake, you walked as fast as you could to the bathroom. 

The last thing you heard before shutting the door to the bathroom was Danny’s voice, trying to break the air-right atmosphere.

“How about dinner?”

-🌼🌼🌼-

a/n: uh oh. . .

alsoooo, you'll notice that we haven't even gotten to the scene from the sneak peek yet. . . all of that will come to you in part 2. . . see you again soon, loves ;)

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