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feyhunter78 · 11 months

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AAAA I’M SO EXCITED FOR THE NEXT PART I LOVE YOUR WRITING SMM ❤️❤️

Thank you!!!! 🥺🥺 I'm excited to see y'all's reactions to the newest chapterrrrr Also, I lied about the smut it's in the next chapter, but there is some suggestive type stuff unfortunately it's from Todd

Pink Pastels Pt 9

Description: It's Saturday, and you're at a sports bar with Todd, until you find yourself on the roof with Spiderman.

Pt 10

It’s Saturday. One of your two days off, and all you want to do is relax, but here you are at a shitty sports bar, beer already spilled on your shorts by some drunk idiot, your boyfriend completely ignoring you as he pounds his fist against the bar, screaming at the TV. His team is losing, you assume, as you push away from the bar, drink in hand, and wonder back to your table.

You pull out your phone and scroll through your email, responding to a few, ignoring others, until finally you see a response from a kid in your class’s mother.

Jessica Tompson: Ms. Y/N, I will be available at six PM on Monday to meet with you regarding Tommy’s behavior. I look forward to getting to the bottom of this issue.

You smile and send her a quick response back; you’ve been trying to get Tommy’s mother in for a meeting since October. Tommy wasn’t a bad kid, he just needed extra support and attention, and potentially some ADHD testing. But you knew people were hesitant to test their kids, afraid to “label” them, even though those “labels” could really help their kids in school.

You couldn’t count how many times you’ve explained that identifying where kids are struggling can get them access to accommodations that they need to thrive. Such as extra time on assignments or a quieter, smaller room to take tests in, so they weren’t as distracted. Sure, they wouldn’t get these things forever, but if they got them now, it would help them learn how to self-regulate for the future.

You tap your fingers on the tabletop happily and bound over to Todd. “Hey, guess what, I’m finally getting that mom to come in and talk to me.”

“Who?” He asks, beer in hand, his eyes glued to the screen.

“Tommy Tompson’s mom.”

“Oh, the hot one with the nice rack?”

One of his friends high-fives him, and you put on a tight smile. “I don’t really look at my students’ parents like that, but maybe?”

He rolls his eyes. “Yeah, yeah, I’ve got eyes, sue me.” Then he slammed his beer down on the bar. “Are you fucki—that’s bullshit, Ref!”

Miguel wouldn’t say things like that, he wouldn’t ignore you for football. He’d congratulate you, slip between your legs, his full lips parted, his pink tongue finding a hom— You shake yourself out of your thoughts.

This was crazy, you shouldn’t have done that… Should have stuck to fantasizing about a celebrity, or well, you should’ve been thinking about Todd, he is your boyfriend.

“What a shitty call, Ref!” You echo him, and that earns you a smile thrown your way, and an arm around your shoulders.

You just want things to go back to how they used to be, but honestly, you’re not even sure it used to be good. Maybe you just didn’t really know any different, but now after, all those little chats at pickup, during parent teacher meetings, and then the day at the zoo? How is it that a man, who barely knows you, treats you better than your boyfriend of years?

You walk home with Todd leaning heavily on you, his lips are on your neck, sloppy and clumsy, missing that certain spot on your neck in favor of slobbering all over your skin.

“Todd, maybe we need to slow down a bit.” You say carefully, trying to pry him off you.

“Again?” He sighs heavily, annoyance clear in his tone.

Your face flushes, shame burning through you, and you bite your lip to keep the tears at bay.

When you first started dating you were so new to everything, you’d had a few boyfriends before, but they were short-lived, almost chaste. Todd on the other hand was a complete and utter manwhore.

“I thought you were over all that.” He grumbles, trudging along the sidewalk, refusing to look at you.

He wanted everything fast, fast, fast, and you were dragged along for the ride, anxious and unprepared.

“I am, I am, it’s just you’re drunk, and your head is going to hurt in the morning…” You tell him, helping him up the stairs and through your apartment door.

He makes a beeline for your living room and flops down on your couch. “So, what, I want you, and you’re my girlfriend, so.”

You try to hide your grimace, but he sees it and groans.

“You’re always like this, I swear, such a prude.” He throws an arm over his eyes and unzips his pants, pulling his cock out.

You blanch, there’s no way he’s just going to jerk off, drunk, in the middle of your living room, right?

“Todd, seriously?” You snap, grabbing a decorative pillow and hurling it at him.

He ignores you, pumping himself, grunts and groans spilling from his lips. You used to find him attractive, you’ve always liked when he was vocal but now? Now it feels traitorous to hear him instead of Miguel.

But you’ve never heard Miguel, your mind was just making things up, that’s what dreams and fantasies are.

“You’re such a dick.”

He sat up, still gripping his erect cock. Was it smaller than you remembered? “Maybe I wouldn’t be if you’d do your job.”

"My job?” You ask, thoroughly confused.

He points at his cock, and you bite the inside of your cheek to keep from laughing, there’s no way he means what you think he means.

“Good girls suck their boyfriend’s dick.” He says it with such certainty, that it sounds ridiculous.

You bust out laughing, doubling over, gasping for breath. “You’re so full of it.”

“I’m not, you’re just a—” then he goes quiet, and you look up to see him passed out cold, cock still in hand.

You stand there for a moment, flabbergasted. There’s no fucking way that just happened.

Throwing a blanket over Todd, you head for the fire escape a different blanket in hand, climbing up to the roof, and sitting on the edge of the roof, feet dangling, your hands behind you supporting you as you lean back.

You let out a sigh, tilting your head up towards the night sky. It feels good out here, cool breeze, the sounds of the city at night, the gentle coo of the pigeons the apartment manager cares for.

A soft thump draws your attention, and you jump scrambling away from the edge, and turning on your heel. Only to come face to chest with Spiderman.

“I wish it was that easy to get everyone off the ledge.” He says, a hint of humor in his voice.

You remember what he looks like, and his face, mask? is everywhere, but it’s different when you’re not terrified or watching some grainy news footage.

“And he’s funny too.” You joke, giving him a small smile.

He tilts his head, scanning you, then reaches out and his gloved thumb brushes across your cheek. “You were crying?”

Were you crying? You touch your face, your fingertips coming away damp. “Oh, I didn’t even notice, it’s just been a long day.”

You spread out your blanket and sit, your back against the wall, and you pat the space before you.

“Won’t your boyfriend be upset if he found out, you’re sharing a blanket with a masked hero?” He teases, sitting in the space you made for him.

“My boyfriend is currently passed out drunk with his dick in his hand.” You tell him, the low light making you braver than you’d normally be.

He goes silent, the eye parts of his mask widening, and you think that’s his version of raised eyebrows.

“He was drunk and pissed at me because I didn’t want him to slobber up my neck, so then he whips it out, and when I tell him to stop, he calls me a prude and says I should do my job , which is such an asshole thing to say.” It feels good to ramble, to just vent all your feelings onto this masked semi-stranger.

“Do your job?” Spiderman asks, his eyes narrowed.

“He said, and I quote, good girls suck their boyfriend’s dick.’ Literally so ridiculous…” You trail off as Spiderman rolls his shoulders back.

For a moment you’re hypnotized by the movement, the sheer mass of muscle.

“…shoes?”

You snap out of it. “I’m sorry?”

“Did you like your new shoes?” He asks, and you hear a smile in his voice.

Wow, y/n, rude much? You didn’t even think to thank the man who not only saved your life, but also replaced your shoes.

“Yes, thank you so much, how much do I owe you?” You go to pull out your wallet but realize you left it in your bedroom.

“No, it’s alright, consider it an apology for not getting there fast enough.” He holds his hands up in a pacifying manner.

You purse your lips but nod. “Alright, well, again, thank you.”

You’re fiddling with the necklace Gabi and Miguel got you, and it seems to catch his eye. “That’s pretty, your boyfriend get you that?”

You shake your head, dropping the pendant. “No, it was a gift from one of my kids, I’m a teacher.”

“That’s cute, do you mind if I?” He motions towards it slightly, and you lean forward, letting him catch it between two long fingers. “Very nice.”

“Yeah, I think it’s really sweet.” You smile up at him, breath catching in your throat when he releases the pendant close to your skin, his fingertip brushing the tops of your breasts.

“I’m sorry, didn’t mean to touch...” He says quickly, retracting his hand.

You give him a reassuring smile. “It’s okay, it was an accident.”

“What’d your boyfriend say?”

“About the gift? I don’t think he even noticed.” You scoff, brushing your hair back from your shoulders.

“No, what did he say after you turned him down?” His voice is lower, warmer, spreading across your skin and seeping into your bones.

“Oh well, he tried to argue then passed out.” You giggle, Spiderman’s masked form still inches from your own.

Spiderman lets out a low hum and tucks a stray lock of hair behind your ear. “He phrased it all wrong, good girls don’t suck dick, they take cock.”

Tag list: @nyctophilic0vitnir, @miggyoharaswife, @badbishsblog, @imisshim2much, @wanderlustingcastaway, @lynn-9703, @sleepyamaya, @erensbbg, @sweetea85, @ilovemiguelohara, @natthernandez, @stxrrielle, @ihateuguys, @jenniferdixon05207, @blep-23, @luvisaaxoxo, @minimari415, @emerald-09, @violet-19999, @kenchosaikuo, @groovycass, @youcantseem3, @lovefks, @nightshxdex, @dusstory, @aesniri, @munsonssecretblog, @kirke-is-my-name, @starbearieee, @chatoicboy, @act1839, @needsleep3000, @totally-not-georgia, @witchy-lizard, @cxmeiloorun7

#miguel o'hara imagine #miguel o'hara fanfiction #miguel o'hara #miguel ohara #meg's writing #miguel's pastels #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara x you #miguel o'hara x y/n #miguel ohara x reader #miguel ohara x you #miguel ohara x y/n #spiderman 2099 x reader #miguel atsv #Todd sucks as always

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seoafin · 1 year

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I need your thots on house husband geto,,how he cooks and cleans and all he asks from you is a kiss every now and then [ever since i read nitc all i've been thinking about is how he asks rip!mc for a kiss in exchange for anything]

ohhhhhhhhhhhh

"You don't cook at home?"

When Shoko had dragged you out to a girl's night with some of her old friends from medical school, citing that Satoru and Suguru had kept you cooped up in the apartment for themselves for too long, this was not a question you anticipated to be answering. At first you were overwhelmed. It was a large gathering. Ten became eight, and eight had dwindled to six and then four. Right on the verge of retiring for the night, conversation had shifted to the topic of boyfriends and relationship woes.

And now three pairs of eyes look to you. An amused chuckle escapes Shoko's lips, a lit cigarette neatly slotted between her lips.

You blink, embarrassment washing over you. "I—well." You stare down at your lap. "I'm not really that good at cooking...so my boyfriend...does all the cooking."

Suguru does the cooking. And the laundry. When Suguru's away, Satoru takes care of it. Satoru washes the dishes. Cleans. He sweeps and vacuums and tidies after the kids. You had tried to help, once, but Suguru had directed you away, and now the realization is quickly dawning on you that it may have been because you are simply incompetent at housework.

You may not be able to cook, but nobody is incompetent at cleaning!

Except…maybe you. You don’t know. You’ve never needed to clean. Nothing more than a perfunctory clean every once in a while when you lived alone. You weren’t a messy person. Shoko remarked often that your first apartment was cleaner than it had been when you had originally moved in.

"How sweet," Kuriyama sighs out. "My boyfriend can't even cut a vegetable! He cooks for you? Everyday?"

"U-usually," is your response while your mind races, trying to think back to the last time you had helped with anything around the house. Anything.

"The only thing my boyfriend can make is ramen. Not to mention he's super picky about his food!" Mori shakes her head. "He's so difficult! Honestly I think of dumping him everyday for being so incompetent!"

You stare at her.

Shoko clears her throat. "I'm sure it’s not only that—”

“I agree,” Kuriyama says, nodding, face fiercely determined. “It gets so tiring sometimes taking care of everything. Maybe it’s time to move on!” She leans in. “Your boyfriend wouldn’t happen to have any good looking friends?”

Out of all the reasons that constantly filled your head with why Satoru and Suguru would break up with you, you hadn’t expected your inability to do household chores to be one of them.

Incompetent.

Well, it would certainly be understandable. If anything, you think you would prefer them breaking up with you over something as mundane as not being able to do housework, instead of the many flaws to your character. It would settle easier. It would hurt less. Now you just had to prepare yours—

“Let’s call it a night!” Shoko interrupts, cigarette disposed, taking you to stand up by the arm. “I have to get her back before people start calling,” she says, interlacing your fingers.

Kuriyama sighs. “Just when we were getting to the best part, Shoko!”

“Yeah, yeah,” Mori grins. “You should come to our next night out. You can invite your boyfriend too! We’ll make an exception!”

Shoko waves them off, pulling you outside the izakaya.

“I can’t cook either,” she says as the two of you wait for a taxi. You know that. But Shoko bakes. Cookies and cakes and occasionally other baked goods. You spent nights over at her apartment eating cupcakes until late in the morning, watching American dramas and horror movies. Delicious, mouth watering desserts.

“Who expects women to cook nowadays anyway?”

—

When the elevator parts to your apartment, you immediately go to Mimiko and Nanako’s room and check their pink laundry hamper. Empty. Then to Tsumiki’s room. Empty. Megumi’s room. Empty.

You’re seated on the floor of Megumi’s room when the door opens again.

“How was the—”

You push past Satoru to go into your shared room at the end of the hall to check your laundry hamper. Suguru is reading on the bed when you open the closet. Empty. You sit down, knees flush to your chest, dejected.

You don’t need to look behind you to know Satoru and Suguru are exchanging glances.

From your knees, you mumble. “Did you do the laundry?”

It’s Suguru that answers you. “We just finished a load.”

“Oh.”

You sit in silence.

At least, until Satoru gently yanks you up into his arms, and carries you to the bed. You immediately turn face down on your comforter, covering your face.

You think they must be having another one of their silent conversations. You squeeze your eyes shut. Tomorrow, you resolve, you’d wash the dishes after dinner.

You hear the door open yet again with Satoru’s departure, and Suguru softly says your name. You sigh, picking yourself up. You really can’t refuse Suguru when he says your name like that.

“Where are the kids?” You ask, even though you already know where they are. They’d be back early tomorrow morning, before school.

“Educational overnight field trip with Yaga,” Suguru replies, amused as your attempt to delay the inevitable. He plays along, lightly teasing. “It’s not like you to forget these things.”

You don’t meet his eyes. Suguru calmly waits you out until you lamely say: “I don’t help around the house.”

You can tell he’s taken aback. “Is that why you were looking for…dirty clothes?”

You’re embarrassed just thinking about it. “...”

“I like cooking,” he says. “I like cooking and watching you, Satoru, Megumi, and the girls enjoy what I make. And I definitely, don’t think it’s a burden. We order out a lot too, don’t we?” He continues. “As for the laundry, I grew up doing it with my mother. It reminds me of home.”

You reluctantly look up. There’s a soft smile on his lips. “I can wash the dishes.”

He chuckles, hand caressing your face. You nearly close your eyes and lean into it. “You don’t need to. You don’t need to do anything.”

You still want to. Try. It makes you feel better. Slightly. The knots in the pit of your stomach loosen. “Can I help you with lunch for the kids tomorrow…?”

He pretends to think about it. The fondness in his barely suppressed expression gives him away. "Maybe if you give me a kiss first."

"Suguru," you grumble.

He only replies with your name, face erupting into a full blown grin.

Your face warms as you lean close and cup his face with your hands, bringing your lips to his. He pulls you on to straddle his lap, wrapping an arm around your waist and breathes you in. His lips briefly part, and you feel his tongue run over your bottom lip.

You pull away, about to rest your face onto his shoulder, into his neck. His dark purple gaze draws you in. “We can take care of you,” he says, softly. Then he kisses you again, and this time you let him take you apart with his tongue. Against your lips: “We can take care of you.”

You draw apart, breathless. You pointedly stare at the wall behind him while you attempt to regain what’s left of your composure. Suguru laughs and presses a kiss to your collarbone, one hand sliding underneath your shirt onto bare skin, thumb lightly dragging over the scar of raised flesh on your side.

“Besides,” he murmurs, lips still attached to your neck. You can feel the slightest kiss of teeth. “Satoru makes more of a mess than the kids. It’s only right that he cleans up after himself.”

“Hey!” The sound erupts from behind the door.

You should’ve known.

—

[extra]

“I’m so sorry,” you bemoan.

Ten minutes prior, Nanako had run into the kitchen, brush in hand and horrified, ("Papa, something's burning!"), then she had looked at you, brightened in understanding, and called back into the hall: “Everything’s alright guys!”

Satoru looks over at the unrecognizable charred pieces of salmon on the stove top, face unreadable. Then he shrugs and drops a light kiss on your nose. “You tried.”

You hide your face in your hands.

You also pretend not to see Satoru discreetly handing Megumi a pack of bills as the kids shuffle out the door for school.

#rip!mc failwife stsg househusbands #what is a man nowadays if he can't cook and clean and do the laundry and the dishes #like c'mon now put 'em to work!!!!!#gojo satoru x reader #geto suguru x reader #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #m.jjk #poly au

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mysterious-moonstruck-musings · 6 months

Text

Destiny & Deliverance: Chapter 27

Destiny & Deliverance Masterlist ||| Main Masterlist Dieter Bravo X OFC

Series Summary: Natalia Cohen is experiencing major life changes, beginning with leaving an emotionally abusive husband. She is learning how to navigate life on her own while dealing with high functioning anxiety, depression, and mild PTSD. Everything is looking up for her. She is a highly respected consultant for a major LA firm, has her best friend, Lauren, by her side, and is on her path to healing. Everything changes when she meets a handsome and broken stranger on a work trip. He turns out to be a well-known actor, with a heart-breaking past. They quickly develop a connection that will forever alter their lives.

Warnings: Themes dealing with mental health, emotional trauma, alcohol use, and discussions about suicide. There will be fluff, tears, spicy language, and smut. This will be a slow burn type of story. Read at your own risk.

Chapter Warnings: Discussions about intimate partner violence, suicidal ideation, mental health struggles, drug abuse, and alcohol abuse.

Chapter Quote: "I got to snuggle some baby goats."

It took everything in me to hold back the sob that threatened to escape the instant I heard Dieter’s voice. I momentarily placed my hand over my mouth to hold it in and compose myself. I let out a shaky breath as I tried to find my voice.

“Dieter?”

I could hear his stuttered breathing on the other end of the line. He sounded like he was battling with his emotions too.

He cleared his throat, “Yeah… it’s me.”

I sighed loudly into the phone as the tears started to slide down my face. I felt like my brain had completely shut down on me, unsure of what to say but also feeling the urge to say everything all at once. It was so overwhelming but also awkward since we had not talked in so long. There were still so many things up in the air between us.

“How’ve you been?” He asked, sounding unsure of himself. I felt like he didn’t know what to say either.

I sniffed loudly as I wiped at my face, “Umm, I’ve been ok. How are you feeling?”

“I’m feeling good. Normal, I think…then again…I’m not sure I really know what normal is,” we both laughed nervously.

“I’m feeling better than I have in a long time. I can confidently say that at least,” he added.

I smiled. It was nice to know that he was feeling better. It helped dampen some of the worry I had been feeling.

“How are things going, otherwise?”

“Well, I got to snuggle some baby goats during group therapy this morning. I kinda want one now.” He sounded unabashed about this revelation.

“Of course you do,” I said in response, shaking my head and chuckling at the thought.

“I gotta new roommate two weeks ago…Gordon is his name. He’s an interesting guy…he uhhh…” he stifled a laugh before continuing. “He said he came here because the wall outlets were talking to him. Like, full conversations. They finally stopped after he got his meds sorted out. Made me feel a little better about my issues.”

I was a little dumbfounded, “Ummm, I’m not sure if I should laugh about that or not…” Dieter snickered, “He jokes about it now, so I think it’s ok.”

It felt good to hear him laughing again. I had missed that sound more than I realized. I really missed his voice in general. He sounded different. Better, lighter almost. It was a sound I wanted to commit to memory.

“Umm…so Gabby said you didn’t take that job offer?” His nervousness had returned with that question.

“No, I turned it down.” I started rubbing at my shoulder with my free hand as I moved to sit down at the kitchen table.

“Why? It sounded like an amazing opportunity”

I sighed, now rubbing at the crease between my brows, “It was, but it’s not where I wanted to be or what I wanted to do. I would’ve had to give up too much and I don’t feel like I’m in the right headspace to do that.”

“I hope it wasn’t because of me…”

“No. I mean, I guess I can’t say no. You’re part of it…but my life is here. I can’t leave Lauren or even Gabby and Alex at this point. We’ve all gotten so close. And like I said, I’m not in the right headspace for that. I would’ve been spending a lotta time alone and I don’t wanna do that right now. It just wasn’t where I felt like I should be. I didn’t feel any kind of excitement over it at all, so I turned it down”

I suddenly felt vulnerable revealing that to him, questioning if I should have. I didn’t want him to worry about me when he needed to be focusing on himself.

“Are you sure you’re doing ok?” He asked quietly.

“Yeah, I’m fine. You don’t have to worry about me, I promise. I’m just…I-” I huffed, shaking my head. I wasn’t sure if it was ok to finish that thought. I didn’t want to make any assumptions about how he was feeling or make an ass of myself.

I heard him chuckle quietly over my flustered response, “I miss you too.”

I was instantly calmed by his words, my anxiety about where we stood easing some. I let out a shy laugh at his declaration, tears still running down my face as I sniffled out, “You do?”

“Of course, I do, so fucking much… I - I’m sorry I haven't called you. I wanted to make sure I had a clear head when I did, and then I didn’t really know what to say after everything that happened.”

I heard him inhale sharply before he spoke up again, there was a tapping noise, like he was drumming his fingers against something.

“Listen, I’ve only got a few minutes left before they cut me off for today, but the reason I called…”

He paused, clearing his throat nervously, “Umm, so I wanted to see if you would be willing to come here and do a session with my psychiatrist and me…”

“Of course, when?”

“Whenever you can. Just uhh, call my case worker and she’ll get it scheduled.”

I could hear him shuffle around before he started cursing under his breath.

“Well, I was gonna give you the number but now I can’t find it...Gabby should have it.”

I couldn’t help but to snigger at him. He was still a little bit of a hot mess, which I loved about him.

He followed up with an exasperated “sorry” about not being able to find the number before he let out a quiet laugh at himself. It felt like part of it was his nervousness too.

“I’ll text her to get it as soon as we hang up and I’ll call immediately.”

I could hear him sigh in relief before a beeping noise broke into our conversation with an automated message giving a one minute warning.

“I’ll be there tomorrow if they’ll let me…or at least as soon as they’ll let me,” I said in a rush. Suddenly feeling the pressure of our limited time. I still felt like I had so many things to say to him.

“I would like that. I…I really can’t wait to see you…”

His words trailed off, shaking slightly as he was hit with another wave of emotions.

“I can’t wait to see you either,” I replied with a quivering voice.

After a moment of silence, there was a clicking sound as the line disconnected. I held the phone against my forehead, trying to get my breathing back to normal. Once I was able to focus my thoughts, I sent a quick text to Gabby to let her know that Dieter had called and that I needed the number for his case worker. I half expected her to call me, but thankfully she didn’t. She replied back quickly with the number and that she was happy he finally reached out. She followed that message up with another asking me if I was ok and if I needed to talk about it. I appreciated her offer, but I was good for now and let her know as much. Once I finished texting with Gabby, I dialed the number for the case worker, suddenly feeling nervousness forming in the pit of my stomach.

“Sanctuary Hills, this is Sharon,” the polite, yet comforting voice answered.

“Hi Sharon, this is Natalia Cohen…” She cut in before I could continue.

“Oh, Talia, hi. I’ve been expecting your call. Dieter told me he was going to be calling you.”

I let out a nervous laugh, slightly taken aback by the familiarity in which she said my name. It made me wonder how much he had talked about me.

“I assume you’re calling about an appointment for a family session?”

I didn’t know why, but it stirred something in me when she called it a family session. Technically, I wasn’t his family, but they were treating me as if I were. I could feel the tears prickling at my eyes again as I exhaled out a breathy “yes” in response.

“That’s wonderful news, I know he’ll be overjoyed to see you.” I could hear the smile in her voice

“I can’t wait to see him either,” I replied, still trying to keep the emotions out of my words.

“Alright, let me have a look at the schedule. Dr. Rosenberg did ask that you be prepared to be available for at least a week for additional sessions, if possible.”

“Additional sessions?” I was confused. I couldn’t recall if the same thing had been asked of Gabby, which caused my anxiety to flare.

“Don’t worry, it’s perfectly normal for that to happen. It’s mostly educational sessions for family members if they’re willing to participate.”

“Oh, ok. That doesn’t sound so bad.” I laughed nervously.

“When would you like to come in?” she asked with a calming tone.

“As soon as you can get me in is preferable.” I started tapping on the table as I waited for options, listening to the clicking of a keyboard on her end.

“How about 10 AM the day after tomorrow?”

“I’ll take it,” I said a little too eagerly. The anticipation of seeing Dieter again was starting to get to me.

“I have it scheduled. In case you do end up staying for additional sessions, we have apartments on site for patient families. So, you won’t have to worry about lodging. We don’t want you stressing about that while you’re here.”

“Oh, that’s…nice. Thanks for letting me know.”

“When you arrive for your session, come in the north entrance with the blue awning and they'll get you checked in. It’s a different entrance than where you would have come in before.”

I thanked her and our conversation ended soon after that. Afterwards, I sat staring out the kitchen window, feeling the anxiousness settle into my gut. Not knowing what to expect was always the worst for me. It was like that call had started a countdown, to what, I wasn’t sure. I could only hope the end result would be something positive.

The morning of our session, I had a ridiculously early flight so that I could be there in time. I decided to keep things simple with minimal makeup, a messy bun, sunglasses, sneakers, skinny jeans, and one of Dieter’s button up dress shirts with the sleeves rolled up. I had raided his closet while I was at his house cleaning up. It was something small, but being wrapped in his scent or wearing something that belonged to him brought me some comfort during my time without him. His clothing quickly became a staple in my casual attire.

I was so anxious about seeing Dieter again that the flight didn’t faze me like it normally would have. Though it was an hour and a half, it seemed much quicker as the minutes continued to count down and the distance between us shortened. I could feel myself getting more worked up the closer I got. By the time I acquired the rental car and was on the road to the facility, my chest was heavy. Breathing was getting harder with each mile that passed.

When I pulled into the parking lot, I could feel my heart pounding in my ears. I sat gripping the steering wheel tightly in both hands and taking deep breaths. I wasn’t even sure why I was so nervous, it’s not like I knew what Dieter was planning to talk to me about. However, deep down I had a fear, though most likely irrational, that he was going to realize he didn’t really want to be with me after this. I wasn’t sure if I could handle that a second time if it were to happen. Without permission, the tears started to streak down my cheeks, and I felt like I was going to be sick.

After a few more deep breaths, I slammed my fist down on the stop of the steering wheel out of frustration, “Fucking hell, get it together Talia.”

My head dropped back onto the headrest as I squeezed my eyes shut, still taking deep controlled breaths. After several minutes passed, I let out a slow exhale before opening my eyes. Feeling more relaxed, I did a quick check in the mirror to make sure I didn’t look like a complete mess before exiting the vehicle to go inside.

I was starting to have an out of body feeling as I went through the check in process. I couldn’t really remember walking to the building or anything the lady behind the desk had just said to me as I sat down in the lobby to wait. After a few minutes, one of the receptionists called my name and led me through a secure door down a long hallway. We passed several offices that had glass inserts in the doors with shades. Most of the shades were pulled closed, however, I noticed one was open. As I approached, I glanced inside and was met with a familiar figure sitting in a high backed desk chair in the middle of the room with his head leaned back and eyes closed as he spun back and forth, his legs bouncing ever so often. He was sitting on the opposite side of a desk from a woman who was possibly in her fifties, with graying hair and a kind face. Though, she did have a slightly overwhelmed look about her as her eyes met mine through the glass.

I stopped briefly, watching him wave his hands animatedly as he talked incessantly, never raising his head or opening his eyes. I felt a small smirk sneak across my face. He was nervous too. I could tell. My eyes flicked back to the woman, who was watching me watch him with a soft smile on her face.

My attention was pulled away by the receptionist, who was now at my side waiting for me to continue following her.

“He’s been driving us all crazy this morning. I think poor Sharon is getting the worst of it. He’s beyond excited that you’re here today.”

I chuckled at the thought before continuing down the hallway. I was led into a spacious office. It was modern and white with floor to ceiling windows on one side with nothing in sight but nature. All the furnishings were earth tones of brown and deep reds and oranges. I noticed there were a lot of plants filling the space, which added a homey feeling, in a strange sort of way. It also struck me how there were different seating areas on either side of the room. One had a small couch and cushy chair positioned in front of it, while the other had four cushy chairs sitting closely together in a circle. Each of the seats were adorned with soft looking pillows in various shades matching the space. There was a traditional desk setup in the center of the room with two chairs placed in front of it. Each area felt carefully designed to meet specific needs.

Moments after entering the room, I was greeted by Dr. Rosenberg who first shook my hand, then pulled me in for a loose hug.

“Talia, it’s nice to finally meet you. I’ve heard so much about you the last couple of months.”

It took me by surprise, though I felt like it shouldn’t have. There was a certain familiarity and kindness that everyone seemed to have toward me. Everyone had been very warm and welcoming thus far. It was comforting to know this was the type of environment that Dieter had been in.

I gave her a tight lipped smile as she led me over to sit in one of the four chairs in a circle. To my surprise, the chair spun slightly as I sat in it. Dr. Rosenberg turned hers to face me directly, so I did the same with mine. I had managed to stay composed thus far, but my nervousness was starting to show as I reached up and rubbed at my shoulder. The psychiatrist was silent for a moment as she watched my movements. I stopped, sat up straight and placed both hands on top of my crossed legs to keep from fidgeting.

I’m not sure why, but I felt the need to appear like I had my shit together. I took a minute to study her as she gave me a soft smile while she continued to get settled, grabbing a notepad, file folder, pen, and glasses from the small table next to her seat. She was probably in her early fifties, maybe late forties. Her long blonde hair was pulled back into a low ponytail, and she was dressed in business casual attire. I could tell she wanted to appear professional, but not uninviting. She was also definitely looking at my body language very closely, which was making me feel antsy. My therapist used to do that, and I hated it. I mentally smacked myself over my thoughts. I was already putting up walls and we hadn’t even started talking yet.

“Well, it’s been an exciting morning around here. Dieter is definitely happy you’re here. He was asked to leave his group session this morning because he couldn't focus. He’s been bugging poor Sharon ever since.” She laughed and smiled affectionately at her words.

She was trying to get me to relax. I knew that I looked too tense. I let out a breathy laugh as I sat back further in the seat, trying to appear less uptight, but I didn't think it was working. She gave me a sympathetic look suddenly, “You’re nervous to see him.”

It wasn’t a question. Looking down at my hands, I chuckled to myself briefly before clearing my throat to speak, “Yeah, I guess I am. I just…don’t know what to expect.”

“That’s a perfectly normal feeling. It’s not unusual for family members to worry if their loved one is going to be different after treatment. Is that some of what you’re feeling?”

Her question took me by surprise, “Ummm, maybe. Sort of...maybe not so much about him being different…more about him feeling differently.”

She nodded, “I understand. I can’t say that he won’t be different. His personality may present differently, more calm, less emotional or moody. He will feel differently in that he won’t be cycling from one extreme to the other, emotionally. As far as how he feels ABOUT things, that isn’t going to change just because he’s stabilized. Does that make sense?”

I gave a tight nod, “Yeah, it does.” It didn’t do anything to ease my anxiety though because I still didn’t know how he really felt about us. She eyed me for a second before continuing.

“So, I’ll fill you in on my plan for today. First, you and I are going to chat about Dieter’s diagnosis. Once we’re done, I’m going to bring him in for the session. After that, you and I will have a follow-up meeting to discuss the path forward. Does that sound ok to you?”

“Yeah, that’s fine.” I started to chew on my bottom lip while she flipped through the file in her hand.

“Great. Just so you’re aware, Dieter signed release forms for you to have access to his medical and treatment information. Nothing is off the table, so if you have questions, ask. He made it clear to me that he wants you to know everything and wants you involved as much as you want to be.”

I paused briefly, shocked by that information. I exhaled the breath I didn’t realize I was holding, “Ok...I wasn’t expecting that.”

She smiled before continuing, “Alright, let’s get to it then?” She raised her brows at me, asking permission to proceed. I motioned with my hand to continue.

“So, he’s been formally diagnosed with mixed episode Bipolar I Disorder (BD). In simple terms, bipolar disorder is when someone experiences extreme behavioral or mood changes. The extreme highs are called manic episodes, and lows are episodes of depression. Most people with BD go through highs and lows over an extended period of time. Someone with mixed episodes, like Dieter has, tend to experience both highs and lows simultaneously or in a rapid sequence with no recovery time.”

She paused, giving me a minute to digest her words. I couldn’t say I was surprised by the diagnosis, it actually made a lot of his behavior make sense. When I didn’t speak up, she continued.

“I think what happened with Dieter…he was put on a lot of medication. Antidepressants in particular can be very tricky for someone with BD. It can cause an increased risk of mood destabilization when the antidepressants are not taken with a mood stabilizer. He was on pretty much everything but a mood stabilizer. You add that in with not sleeping, not eating, drinking, anxiety, and episode triggers…it’s a recipe for disaster. Sometimes being improperly medicated like that can trigger suicidal ideation and even psychosis. Honestly, he was fighting a losing battle.”

I leaned forward in my seat, placing my elbows on my knees while I rubbed at my face. I felt anger bubbling in my chest.

“Why didn’t his therapists or doctors catch what was happening?”

“One reason…lack of experience. BD is also incredibly hard to diagnose because it shares symptoms with so many other more common disorders like anxiety, depression, PTSD, and ADHD, which is what he was being treated for. That’s not to say he doesn’t have those things as well, but if he does, we need to take a different treatment approach.”

I sighed, shaking my head in disbelief. “Wow, that actually kind of blows my mind.”

“I know… and I’m surprised that no one thought to look into it, given his family history. It can be hereditary, and BD does have a high suicide rate. Given what happened with his mother, it should’ve been considered. Also, the fact that he experienced trauma in dealing with that incident...trauma often causes the onset of symptoms.”

I sighed heavily as the tears started to pool in my eyes, “This actually…kind of pisses me off that he had to go through all of this needlessly. He fucking hated taking that stuff because of the way it made him feel.”

“That brings me to my next topic...It's been hard to get a baseline with him. I feel like a lot of the things he was experiencing were side effects from all the medications he was on. I can’t really rely on his history before he started the medication because he was using recreational and prescription drugs and drinking heavily to self medicate, which could have been making things worse for him during that time as well.” She paused briefly to gauge my reaction, “I assume you knew about his past substance abuse issues?”

“Yeah, he’s mentioned it…What does all that mean?”

“Well, it’s hard to know exactly what his actual symptoms are right now. So, to start, I’m doing the bare minimum. I’ve started him out on a low dose mood stabilizer called divalproex sodium. It’s actually…an anticonvulsant that’s normally used to treat seizures rather than a typical mood stabilizer like lithium.”

I drew my brows down together in confusion, “Why a seizure medication?”

“That medication increases the amount of a chemical called gamma-aminobutyric acid in the brain. It works to block certain transmissions across the nerves in the brain and creates sort of an overall calming effect. That particular medication often works best for patients that have mixed or rapid cycling episodes. Lithium typically doesn’t get the job done in those instances. He seems to be doing well on it so far. We’ll give it a few more months to make sure everything else is out of his system and reevaluate.”

“So, he went from taking half the pharmacy…to one thing?”

“He did. He seems pretty set on limiting the medications as much as possible. He’s been spending a lot of his time doing cognitive behavioral therapy, interpersonal and social rhythm therapy, and psychoeducation to help him manage his symptoms and learn about triggers and that sort of thing. He’s been very invested in it, and it seems to be helping.”

I sighed, starting to feel overwhelmed, “I don’t know what all of that is. I mean, I know cognitive behavioral therapy but…” I shook my head in confusion.

“No worries, if you decide to continue with the family education sessions you’ll learn about that stuff. I know it’s a lot to take in...”

“Yeah, it is, but I’m happy that he’s hopefully on the right track now.” I took a couple of deep breaths to try and relax some as I continued to process things.

“One last thing before I bring Dieter in...I know you two were no longer together before his hospitalization and you haven’t really had a chance to work things out. His preference is to stay with you when he leaves treatment. I do want to be able to manage his expectations if that isn’t going to be the case. I don’t want you to feel like you have to allow that if you aren’t ready to take all this on. I want you to know that you can say no.”

I was taken aback at her directness, but also appreciated it. I actually felt like I was warming up to her some and feeling more comfortable with opening up to her. I didn’t hesitate with my response, if anything, I said it with conviction, looking directly into her eyes as I spoke.

“There’s no question in my mind about him coming home with me so long as he wants to. I’ve known from the start that he was struggling with his mental health, and I promised to support him through it. A new diagnosis doesn’t change anything for me. I’m all in for this.”

Dr. Rosenberg gave me a warm smile, clearly satisfied with my response. “Now I see why he says you can be a force to be reckoned with.”

My eyebrows shot up at her words as she again took me by surprise, “Dieter said that?” I chuckled at the thought as I leaned back in my seat, surprised that was the wording he chose.

“He’s said a lot of things about you, all positive, of course.” She laughed quietly to herself as she set her glasses on the table. As she stood, she announced she was going to go get him for our joint sessions.

After Dr. Rosenberg disappeared out the door, I could feel my anxiety returning. My chest was starting to tighten again as my heart beat a mile a minute. Instinctively, my right hand moved to rub at my shoulder. Was he going to be upset about how easily I gave up on us? I didn’t know how he couldn’t be. It didn’t sound like he was planning to end things for good even though that thought kept crossing my mind. It was clearly my pessimism and self-doubt seeping in. The thought of being completely open and vulnerable in this setting was making things worse too. I wasn’t a fan of having an audience, but I needed to get over that and not build up my walls right now. I propped my arm on the rest of the chair and started to rub at my forehead as my leg began to bounce. I couldn’t make myself stop the fidgeting no matter how hard I tried.

After several minutes passed, Dr. Rosenberg returned with Dieter following behind her. His head was down, clenching and unclenching his hands as he walked. As he approached me, he finally looked my way through his lashes. He gave me a small smile that widened as his eyes dropped down to my shirt, obviously noticing I was wearing one of his. I gave him a shy smile in return. He sat down in the chair directly in front of me as Dr. Rosenberg returned to her earlier spot.

It was clear he was nervous by the way he couldn’t keep his hands still and how the heel of his croc kept bouncing off the tiled floor. He would only occasionally glance in my direction as we waited for Dr. Rosenberg to get settled again. I took the opportunity to study his appearance. He looked so much better compared to the last time I had seen him. His light gray t-shirt was no longer loose looking around his fit torso. His pale skin had been replaced with a golden tan. His hair was longer and as wild as ever, framing his scruffy and patchy beard. His chocolate brown eyes looked clearer than I had ever seen them and were filled with nervousness and anticipation.

Once Dr. Rosenberg was ready to start, she filled Dieter in on what she had discussed with me about his diagnosis. She then encouraged him to take the lead going forward and discuss the things he wanted to speak with me about. He rubbed his hands together nervously, briefly chewing on his bottom lip before he met my gaze to speak.

“So, you’re…ok with that diagnosis?” He asked, raising an eyebrow. I wasn’t sure what he meant and gave him a confused look. “Like, it doesn’t freak you out or anything? I know it’s a lot to deal with.”

“Dieter, the diagnosis doesn’t change anything. You’re still you. Why would it bother me?”

“I dunno, I’m just afraid that at some point you’re gonna realize how big of a mess I am and run away from it all,” he said sheepishly.

I chuckled, leaning forward in the seat with a teasing smile, “I realized how big of a mess you were a long time ago.” He scratched at his chin as a smirk formed on his lips.

“Besides, I’m pretty sure I’ve already seen the worst of it and I’m still here. My feelings for you haven’t changed. You don’t have to worry about that from me.”

His eyes turned glassy at my words as he pinched his brows together, looking downward at his hands in his lap.

“I don’t deserve you, not after the way I treated you…the things I said. I was such an asshole to you.”

I bit at my bottom lip, shaking my head before speaking, “None of that matters to me. I know you weren’t completely yourself when you said those things.”

“No, I wasn’t but I still knew what I was doing and saying. I apparently tend to self-sabotage things. Some of the things I said, using your past against you, I knew it would hurt you. I wanted the words to hurt so you would let me go. I knew you wouldn’t otherwise.”

“Why though? I don’t understand why you felt the need to end things to begin with. Why was I a burden to you?”

His eyes widened at my question, brows shooting upward as he shook his head from side to side, “No, no you weren’t the burden…I was. I’m sorry I made you think that. I know the night I called, I wasn’t making a lot of sense. I…I hadn’t slept in days, and I was such a fucking mess.”

He licked his bottom lip and chewed at it for a second before continuing, “I could see how you were having to completely change everything about your life to accommodate me and my work just for us to be together. I knew it was eventually gonna be a problem and cause you stress because it was affecting your job. I didn’t wanna ruin your life that way. You shouldn’t have to cater your life to mine, it’s not fair. I love you too much to do that to you.”

“Dieter, it wasn’t always gonna be like that. It just happened to be shitty circumstances caused by the remote location. If we hadn't been in the middle of nowhere, I could’ve worked without issue. We just weren’t prepared for the challenges that came up. This is a learning experience for both of us. We’ll know better for next time so I can plan accordingly…and it wasn’t like you weren’t making changes to meet me halfway.”

He couldn’t argue with that. He sighed as he leaned back in his seat, nodding in agreement.

“I know that now, I wasn’t exactly thinking clearly…obviously. It all made sense at the time.” He rolled his eyes, frustrated with his behavior. He took a deep breath before continuing.

“It was more than that though, I knew I was spiraling out of control. I could fucking feel it happening and didn’t know how to make it stop. I didn’t wanna tell you what was going on because I didn’t want you to worry. I knew you would drop everything and fly back to Canada to be with me.”

“You’re damn right I would’ve… and I should’ve done that anyway.” I could feel my emotions catching up to me, my eyes filling with tears as I looked down away from him.

“I fucking knew it…in my gut that something was wrong, and I did nothing. If I had just done it…came up there anyway, this probably would’ve gone differently. I could’ve helped you through it, but no…I was a fucking coward. I gave up because I was selfish and wanted to protect myself. I didn’t even try because I was too afraid that I would end up in a dark place again if you didn’t want me to be there with you.”

The tears were streaking down my cheeks by this point. I couldn’t hold them back anymore. I had so much anger for myself that it was making me feel sick. Dieter stood from his seat, closing the few feet between us, then got down on his knees on the floor in front of me. He moved to grab my hands in my lap, but hesitated. I reached up and grabbed his in response.

“I’m sorry I put you in the position to even have to think that. It should’ve never happened. I should’ve been communicating everything with you instead of pushing you away. This whole fucking mess is my fault…I wanted to reach out so many times after that… to try and fix it, but you seemed like you were doing ok so I didn’t want to upset you again.”

The tears were streaming down his face now as he took a minute to try and compose himself.

“I thought I could move on and just deal with things the way I used to…by numbing the pain. That’s when I started drinking heavily again. Then I saw you at the restaurant, and you looked so fucking amazing…and I was such a dick. I was so angry with myself for that. I couldn’t stop thinking about how I had everything and fucked it up. My behavior after that night was reckless. There are days I can’t even remember because I was drinking so much. I just wanted to not think about it anymore.”

He pulled his hands away, looking down at the floor before wiping at his face. When he raised his head again, the pain in his eyes nearly made my heart stop. I reached out to cup his cheek, but he leaned away, seeming to need space.

“The night that video of you was posted online…several people sent it to me. I didn’t watch it at first because I didn’t think it would mean anything…but when I finally did…”

He put his hand over his mouth, letting out a quiet sob, before continuing.

“I could see how bad you were hurting…how bad I hurt you. What I did to you…I hated myself for it because you didn’t deserve that. It also reminded me of what I was missing out on because of how beautiful you sounded and looked…and that fucking song.”

He paused for a minute, shaking his head. He sniffled and wiped at his face again before continuing.

“I stayed up all night, watching it on a loop on the tv. I almost called you then, but stopped myself. I drank until I had nothing left instead. Then, when I ran into you the next morning, I could see how fucking broken you were. The way you looked at me…it fucking crushed me. I bought more alcohol and went back to the house. I don’t really remember much after that.”

He shook his head for a moment, pausing to take a few deep breaths, wiping at his face again.

“I don’t even remember calling you…and…even after everything I did, you still came to me. You could’ve easily told me to fuck off and I would’ve deserved it, but you didn’t. I know I wouldn’t be here right now if you hadn’t. You saved my life…I feel like you’ve been doing that ever since New York. When I say you’re my light in the darkness, I fucking mean it.”

I started sobbing into my hands. I couldn’t hold it back anymore. I felt his fingers wrap around my wrist, pulling my hands around his neck as he moved to hug me. We sat there in an embrace for some time before I started mumbling into his shoulder.

“I was so afraid you were gonna hate me for giving up on you so easily. I’m sorry I didn’t try harder. Just know that it had nothing to do with you…I clearly still need to work on my own shit.”

He hugged me a little tighter as he buried his fingers in the back of my hair, “That thought never crossed my mind. Don’t even worry about it anymore.”

He finally pulled back, wiping the tears away from my cheeks with his thumbs as he did so. We gave each other tight smiles as we locked eyes. He turned away, toward Dr. Rosenberg, who I had completely forgotten was in the room, and asked for some tissues. She picked up the box from her small table and handed it to him as he stood. He handed me several and took some for himself before handing the box back to her. She motioned for him to have a seat. As she turned to set the box back on the table, I noticed she was looking a little glassy eyed too.

We all sat in silence as her eyes shifted between us. Dieter and I glanced at each other, confusion on our faces as we looked back toward her. She chuckled before she spoke.

“I’m not even sure why I’m here. This is literally the first family session ever where I didn’t have to intervene or lead a conversation. You two don’t seem to have any problems communicating, so I’m not sure how you ended up where you were.”

We both smiled widely at her, surprised and appreciative of her honesty. Dieter spoke up with a chuckle.

“I think between my fucked up brain and the distance…it didn’t do us any favors. We’re always at our best when we’re physically together, I think. Everything goes to hell when we aren’t. Clearly that is something I need to work on.”

Dr. Rosenberg nodded in agreement, “Well, I hate to separate you two again, but we are running short on time, and I want to have a chat with Talia about the plans going forward. Dieter, I’m pretty sure you have another group session coming up so you better head that way. You think you can focus enough for this one?”

She raised an eyebrow in his direction as he laughed and nodded. He stood, quickly shuffling over to lean down and give me a hug before exiting the room.

Dr. Rosenberg wasted no time getting back to business, “Talia, part of his treatment is making sure he has the support he needs when he gets home. That’s why we offer support to caretakers as well, because technically, you will be his caretaker as the only other person in the household with him.”

I knitted my brows together, confused about where this conversation was going.

“I’m not going to pretend that I don’t know you have a traumatic history because Dieter has mentioned a few things. I don’t know the details, and I get the sense he doesn’t know it all either. I feel like whatever happened with your ex-husband is still affecting you. Is the dark place you mentioned something that you would be willing to talk to me about? Anything you tell me about yourself is confidential, just so you know.”

I sighed heavily as I ran both hands over my face, “So you picked up on that, huh?” I laughed nervously under her gaze.

“You’re right, I haven’t told him everything. I keep telling myself I’ve moved past it, but after the last few months, I’ve realized that I just locked it away and pretended it didn’t exist. I tend to do that with a lot of things.” She gave me an encouraging smile, clearly picking up on my hesitation as I paused to gather my thoughts.

“So, the last few years of my marriage, I started drinking heavily after finding no way out of the hell I was living in. The constant mental and psychological abuse was wearing me down, especially after I realized what was happening. When I tried to talk to Justin about a divorce, he would just tell me there was no way out because he wasn’t ready to give me up.” I paused briefly… focusing on something outside through the window. “I uhh, came home early from work one day and found him with another woman that he worked with. He of course said it was my fault, because I wasn’t giving him what he needed in the marriage. I knew what he was doing…and I was determined not to let it go because I felt I had a legitimate reason to end things at that point. I TOLD him I was leaving. I was done asking. When I started packing a bag, he hit me. The first time ever. I mean, he had shoved me around some, but never hit me across the face like that. He told me there was no leaving… that he would just find me and bring me home. Said no one would believe me or help because all of OUR friends knew how I was.”

“Talia, what did saying that out loud just now make you feel?”

My eyes drifted over to meet hers, “I don’t really feel anything.”

She arched a brow, “That’s because you're dissociating. I want you to focus on me as you speak and feel what you’re saying.”

Fuck. She wasn’t going to let me cheat my way through this like my therapist did. I pinched my brows together as my eyes teared up again. I had to face this. I closed my eyes briefly, exhaling slowly. When I opened them and met her gaze, she nodded for me to continue.

“He wasn’t wrong. I didn’t really have anyone to turn to. He made sure of that. He left after our argument, said he was going out with the guys. I doubt that’s where he went though. As soon as he left, I started drinking. I remember…feeling lost and pretty fucking hopeless after that. I couldn’t believe he hit me, and I was scared it would happen again. I never saw myself as someone who lets their husband abuse them…I felt disgusted over it. I must have drank a lot…because I can’t remember the rest of that night. I - I woke up in the hospital with alcohol poisoning. I guess when he came home, he found me passed out in my own vomit.”

I started tapping on the arm of the chair as the tightness in my chest returned. The tears trickled out again.

“When Justin finally came to see me, I told him that I was done. If he didn’t let me go, I was gonna find a way out…one way or another and I would make sure everyone knew it was his fault. Given that I had just put myself in the hospital, he took me at my word and agreed on a divorce. I guess he was afraid of what I would do.”

“What did you mean by that?”

I gave a half smile, “I honestly don’t know. I wonder that myself…what I was capable of. If I could’ve done anything.”

“What happened after you both agreed to the divorce?”

“Well, when I was still in the hospital, I reached out to one of my best friends that I grew up with, Lauren. We had kept in touch, even though I actively worked to put up a wall between us so she wouldn’t know what was really going on in my life because I was so embarrassed over it. She didn’t hesitate…she was at the hospital within the hour, and I told her everything. I stayed with her for a few weeks until I got my life sorted out. I don’t think I would have been able to do it without her. Of course, Justin continued to torment me by dragging out the divorce for over a year. It got pretty nasty.”

“What effects do you feel like that experience had on you?” She asked quietly.

“Experience.” I chuckled. “I didn’t realize twelve years of hell could be considered an experience.”

She gave me a sympathetic look before I continued, “I mean, I lost myself. I didn’t know who I was. I was who he wanted me to be. After I left him, he was still in my head with everything I did. What I was wearing, how I fixed my hair and makeup, things I said. I couldn’t do some of the simplest things without hearing his voice telling me I was doing something wrong and having a fucking panic attack over it. I couldn’t make decisions…and yes, I would still drink to numb my feelings and calm myself down. Only this time, I knew exactly how much I could drink without taking it too far.”

“Are those things still an issue for you now?”

I shook my head, “No, I mean, I did all the cognitive behavioral therapy and the sessions. I eventually got to a point where the negative thoughts stopped. I think Dieter had a lot to do with that…he kind of helped me see myself in a different light…but I do still have anxiety sometimes and I think I’ve reverted back to ignoring my feelings… compartmentalizing everything and pretending it’s not there. Throwing myself into work and staying busy to keep my mind occupied. I’ve been doing that instead of drinking the feelings away.”

Dr. Rosenberg leaned forward, placing her elbow on her knee with a pensive look on her face.

“Talia…would you be willing to stay for the next three weeks to work through some of this with me? It would be outpatient treatment…a couple hours a day. You can stay in one of our apartments.”

I sucked in a quick breath. I certainly wasn’t expecting this, but at the same time, I almost felt relieved. My gut told me I needed it and I knew I couldn’t go on the way I had been because I was eventually going to self-destruct if I didn’t take better care of myself. I knew I couldn’t fully be there for Dieter if I was still battling with myself. I sat staring at my hands as I thought through the offer. I could still work remotely, so that wouldn’t be an issue. I raised my head to meet her eyes, “Will Dieter know what I’m doing?”

“Only if you want him to.”

“I don’t want to saddle him with my shit right now…I don’t wanna mess him up.”

“Honestly, I think he’s stable at this point. I think he could handle whatever you wanted to share with him. If you wanted, we could even do some more joint sessions, or he can just be there for support if you want him to be. It’s all up to you really.”

“What would you do?” I asked, letting out a stuttered breath with my question. She took a minute to consider her response, biting on the inside of her cheek as she did so.

“I don’t think it would be bad if you shared everything with him. The more open you are with one another, the better. Communication is going to be a huge factor in keeping your relationship healthy and happy. At least if he knows what’s going on he can support you, just like you support him. Also, if he needs help processing through things, we can help him with that while he’s here…but again, it’s your decision.”

“Yeah, I mean he knows most of it anyway…Alright, I’ll do it. I’ll stay and I want him involved.”

She gave me a bright smile, “I’m actually really happy to hear that. I think this will allow you to build a solid foundation going forward. I’m excited for your future together. I can tell that you both care deeply for each other and I really want your time here to be successful.”

I gave her thanks for the opportunity she was giving me. I’ve known for a while that I had things that I needed to work on but didn't really know where to start. The fact that Dieter seemed so at ease with her and was doing so well gave me some comfort and the courage to jump in head first.

The next three weeks were a whirlwind of educational sessions to help me learn about bipolar disorder; the triggers, coping strategies, and lifestyle changes to minimize stress. I even had an opportunity to learn more about Dieter’s medication and possible interactions and side effects so I would be able to spot them. He had asked that I be involved with his Interpersonal and Social Rhythm therapy, which was designed to help him build a daily routine of healthy habits to manage his moods. Given his job, sometimes a routine was almost impossible for him to keep, but we learned strategies to deal with that when confronted with it. It was all very helpful for the both of us.

I had my sessions too of course. He sometimes set in on them if we were doing something particularly hard that day. His presence helped keep me grounded and got me through a lot. He was taking time to learn about ways to help me cope better and we worked together on effective communication skills.

Dr. Rosenberg recommended that I start keeping a journal to help me work through my emotions. I was iffy about it at first, but Dieter was also doing it and he loved it. He was very encouraging about it. It was something that I had come to enjoy doing after a few days. We had even taken to having a shared journal between us to better communicate our feelings, which Dr. Rosenberg loved the idea of and encouraged.

Even though Dieter and I weren’t able to spend a whole lot of time together during those three weeks, I could always feel his presence and support. It’s what kept me going through it all. I don’t think I would have had the strength to do it without him. By the time my last day of treatment came around, he was given the all clear for discharge. It was both nerve wracking and exciting to know that we would be going home…together.

A/N: How excited are we that these two are finally back together? How badly did this chapter hit the feels? Did you cry? If you did, hopefully this will be the last time...unless you are a happy crier. There may be happy tears later. 😉 How are we feeling about Dieter's diagnosis? Does it change how you view some of his past behavior? What about that revelation from Talia? I mean, are we really surprised though; the girl has had a complicated relationship with alcohol throughout the whole story. How do you think things are going to go when they get back home? Do you think they will pick up where they left off or have some growing pains? We will find out in the next chapter. 😁 I am 100% failing at life and did not get the Deconstructing Dieter Bravo post done. I need to do a little fact checking and didn't have the brain power for it. However, once I get that ready, it will be posted HERE. The topic for Deconstructing Dieter Bravo Part 3 will be his diagnosis. I will tag all the usuals in the posts once it is ready. Hopefully you will find it to be educational. 💜 👉 I do want to share some details on upcoming projects that will be released for the holidays. I am participating in the @pedrostories Secret Santa event. I have received my gift prompt, and you may be excited to know that you will be getting a Dieter Bravo one shot from me by Christmas. I already have some ideas swirling around for it and it's not related to any current fics. It should be fun. Be sure to follow the #pedrostoriesgift23 hashtag to check out all the awesome work that will be included for the event. 👉 I will also be participating in the Pickled Peña event for the new year. I am going to try my hand at writing a little Javi P. for you. Follow @pickled-pena for updates and the hashtag #pickledpeña to see all madness (and I'm sure debauchery) that comes from this fun challenge. I also invite you all to join us! There is still time! It's going to be a blast! If you would like to be tagged on either of these one shots, let me know in the comments. 💜 As usual, I have included the chapter mood board below in case you missed it.😘

Next Chapter

Tag List: @rhoorl @bitchwitch1981 @readingiskeepingmegoing @runningmom94 @for-a-longlongtime @hisandsnakes @chaoticfestninja @survivingandenduring @partyofone3413 @wannab-urs @cakipy-blog @titlee78 @poodlebae @guelyury @missladym1981 @maried01 @alokaerza @samiamproductions @misstokyo7love @themonadiaries-blog @madnessofadaydreamer @darkheartgatita @avastrasposts @weho2kcmo @harriedandharassed @tkchaos @girlofchaos @yghuibt @musings-of-a-rose @annieispunk @sarcasm-theotherwhitemeat @pedrostories

Let me know in the comments below if you would like to be added to the tag list.

#dieter bravo #dieter bravo x ofc #dieter bravo fic #pedro pascal #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal character fanfic #pedro pascal fanfiction #Pedro Pascal Fanfic #dieter bravo fluff #dieter bravo fanfiction #the bubble #the bubble fanfiction #Destiny & Deliverance Series #friends of juice collective

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hyperfixatedonthisnow · 1 year

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You Belong to Me

*Not my GIF

This is the first thing I’ve written in years but Shadow and Bone (and particularly Nikolai Lantsov!) is my new hyperfixation and I had the urge to write something, so here we are. Based on the prompt: “Mine.” “Say it again.” which I got from tumblr forever ago.

Summary: Reader is in an established relationship with Nikolai and they get jealous seeing someone else flirting with him so they decide to remind him who he belongs to. Turns out the King finds jealous/possessive reader a turn on, who would have guessed?

Word count: 2K

Warnings: NSFW - 18+ only. A tiny hint of a plot but really it’s just smut, hand job, jealousy/possessiveness, slight praise kink if you squint, reader can be any gender you like, I’ve left it deliberately vague for your reading pleasure :)

The grand ballroom was so full that you could barely move an inch without bumping into a visiting noble, courtier or ambassador of some sort. Musicians were playing at one end of the room and waiters flitted about with trays of champagne.

You scanned the crowd in an effort to locate the King. Your eyes found him finally near of the centre of the room, surrounded by young ladies and you sighed, because of course he was. You had only left Nikolai’s side for a few minutes, but that was all it took for the vultures to descend. You supposed you couldn’t really blame them, he was gorgeous. Intelligent and charming too. Wherever he went, people were drawn to him like moths to the proverbial flame. Your relationship with the King had started many years before, when he was just a wayward second son with little hope of ever inheriting the throne and though his circumstances had now changed, your love for each other remained stronger than ever. Nikolai could be a bit of a flirt, but you trusted him implicitly. You knew without a doubt that anyone trying to tempt him would fail. He would be going home with you, still that didn’t stop the surge of jealousy that burned uncomfortably in your stomach as you made your way across the room to join the group. Nikolai’s eyes lit up as he saw you approach and he reached for you immediately, wrapping his arm around your waist without even the slightest hint of hesitation. You watched with a perverse sense of satisfaction as obvious disappointment flitted over the faces of his companions and several of the ladies politely excused themselves, quickly losing interest now they knew for certain that the King was taken. The last young lady however, was not so easily deterred. She looked you up and down with barely concealed distaste as Nikolai made the formal introductions and then finally she offered you a saccharine smile - entirely for his benefit you assumed, since it was obvious that it pained her to do so. “It’s a pleasure to meet you,” you said, smiling brightly. You would be nice if it killed you. It would only cause problems for Nikolai if you went around being rude to his guests, regardless of wether they deserved it or not. The other woman made no response, already turning her attention back to the King as if you hadn’t even spoken. Apparently she didn’t share your concerns about rudeness. Nikolai cleared his throat, breaking the awkward silence, “Miss Antonova was just telling me about her home in Kerch.” “Oh yes,” Miss Antonova exclaimed, twirling a lock of her dark hair around her finger, “As I was saying, you must come for a visit, your highness. I know my father would be honored to host you.” “What a generous offer,” Nikolai smiled, “perhaps we may take you up on it someday.” The young woman beamed at him, pleased with his response. “We could make it one of the stops on our honeymoon,” you suggested, just to watch her face fall. “Absolutely not. I should not consider our honeymoon a success if we are to be fit for company at any point,” Nikolai grinned impishly and you shook your head fondly, a blush spreading across your cheeks at the implication. You could feel Miss Antonova glaring daggers at you. “Well, perhaps you could make the trip to Kerch on your own instead, moi tsar,” she simpered, batting her eyelashes at him, “I would be happy to volunteer as your personal guide.” You resisted the urge to roll your eyes. "I bet you would,” you muttered quietly under your breath, though not quietly enough if Nikolai’s sudden coughing fit was any indicator. Miss Antinova moved closer to him, her face creased in concern, “Goodness, are you alright?” She asked, laying a hand on his arm. You glared at her, touching the King was in no way appropriate. Nikolai gave you a look, shaking his head minutely - a gesture you knew to mean leave it alone. So you bit your tongue even though you wanted to tell her off. “Yes, I’m quite well,” Nikolai assured her once he had recovered, “My apologies.” Despite his reassurance, and the heat of your still disapproving glare, she did not move away or remove her hand. Instead, she moved further into his personal space, close enough to be considered indecent in your opinion. Her delicate hand curled around his clothed bicep. You struggled to fix a polite smile on your face when in your head you were fantasizing about breaking her fingers one by one. “Oh my, you have very strong arms,” she gushed and this time you did roll your eyes. For Saints sake. Nikolai met your gaze over the top of her head and you saw amusement dancing in his eyes. “I work out from time to time,” he told her with a wink, “It’s important to keep my army training up to date.” Miss Antonova giggled girlishly, as if he had said something ridiculously funny, and you decided that was quite enough. “I’m sorry but you’ll have to excuse us,” you stated bluntly, “the King has an urgent, private matter to attend to immediately.” Rather than wait for a response, you turned and firmly grasping Nikolai’s hand, pulled him away and across the crowded room towards the door. Although he could easily have escaped your hold if he had wanted to, Nikolai followed you without complaint, allowing you to lead him out of the ballroom and through the Palace hallways as though he were a boy rather than the King. Entering his chambers you made sure to lock the door behind you and then you stalked towards him, forcing him backwards until his back hit the wall behind him. “Something wrong, my love?” He asked, an amused little smirk tugging at one corner of his mouth. “The audacity of that woman,” you grumbled, “Mooning and flirting, and touching you! As if I wasn’t standing right there.” “Oh, I don’t know,” he mused, eyes sparkling with affectionate humor, “I thought she was just being friendly.” “Friendly? She was all over you!” you objected. “Maybe a little bit,” he conceded with a slight tilt of his head, his smirk widening. “But you know that I would never accept her advances, or anyone’s for that matter,” he insisted earnestly as he reached out to tuck a loose lock of hair behind your ear, “So what does it matter?” “I didn’t like it, Kolya,” you muttered irritably, yanking at the knot of his cravat in an effort to remove it and almost choking him in the process. “Really?” he chuckled, “I hadn’t noticed.” He batted your hands away so he could loosen the offending item himself, pulling it free of his collar and unbuttoning the top few buttons of his shirt as he went. You narrowed your eyes at him. “It’s not funny.” He hummed in agreement as he dipped his head to kiss you, slow and sweet, just a soft brush of his lips over yours, but your were in no mood for romance. You nipped at his bottom lip impatiently, licking hot and demanding into his mouth when he opened up to you. His hands found your waist, pulling you closer as you threaded your fingers through his hair, kissing him hungrily and sucking on his tongue before you surfaced for air. You kissed an open-mouthed line across his jaw and down his throat, pausing to nip and suck at his pulse point. “Ah. Not above the collar,” he reminded you gently. You huffed, pressing yourself tighter against him and wedging a knee between both of his so that your thigh was pressed against his crotch. He was already hard and knowing it was because of you - not her - tempered your jealousy a little. Nosing down into the collar of his shirt to reach the juncture of his shoulder, you sucked a stinging bruise into his skin. His hips bucked in response. You couldn’t help but smile as you admired your handiwork, a surge of possessiveness rolling through you. “Mine,” you murmured as you laved your tongue over the offending mark. Nikolai groaned low in his throat, rutting against you more insistently. “Say it again,” he gasped. His voice was rough with arousal and you lifted your head to regard him, surprised by his reaction. You felt a heady rush of power as you looked him over. His eyes were dark, his pupils dilated with lust. His lips were shiny and kiss–swollen and his face was flushed, a deep blush spreading from the tips of his ears all the way down to his chest. You had barely started and he was already wrecked. “You belong to me,” you purred in his ear, nuzzling at his throat as you reached a hand between you to stroke him through his pants. He made an involuntary keening sound, his eyes slipping closed as he pushed himself into your palm. “No one else gets to touch you like this, do they?” He shook his head frantically, hips straining towards you, desperately seeking more friction. You sighed, feigning disappointment. “I can’t hear you,” you chastised, “Use your words Kolya." “No,” he breathed, “only you.” “That’s right,” you agreed, smiling against his skin.

You rewarded him by freeing him from his pants and he moaned as you used the precum that had gathered at the head of his cock to slick your palm. He laid his forehead against yours, opening his eyes so that he could follow the movement of your hand as you jerked him in a firm, fast rhythm until he was panting. When you knew he was near his peak, you lifted your head to meet his eyes. “Mine,” you whispered possessively, a seductive smile on your lips. He shuddered, his head dropping to your shoulder and his hands tightening on your waist as he came with a soft cry, thick stands of cum covering your hand and the front of his shirt. He slumped against the wall, boneless in the aftermath of his orgasm. “Well,” he said breathlessly, “that was..,” “Intense? Incredible? Life changing?” you suggested helpfully, and he snorted a laugh. “I was going to say unexpected, but those work too.”

You brought your clean hand up to his throat, running your thumb over the dark bruises you had left just below the line of his collar. "I'm afraid I've made quite a mess," you said, "I'm sorry." And you were, now that the bitter sting of jealousy had faded and you had returned to your senses.

"Don't be. I don't know if you could tell but I rather liked it," Nikolai grinned, "and besides, I've made a mess of you too, so I'd say we're even."

"I suppose that's true," you agreed, bringing your hand up to your mouth. Your tongue snaked out to gently lap the remains of his release from your fingers and he groaned, scrubbing a shaky hand across his face. “You’re trying to kill me,” he accused and you laughed as you leaned in to kiss him. Nikolai pulled you in closer, deepening the kiss but keeping it sweet and unhurried.

"Give me a moment to recover and I'll repay the favour," he promised.

#nikolai lantsov #nikolai lanstov x reader #nikolai smut #shadow and bone #grishaverse #Zoya is my queen but not in this fic #i would die for this man #jealousy #possessiveness #plot what plot

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altrodent · 5 months

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Bathroom Confessions

Pairing: Steve Harrington x Reader

Genre/Warnings: Mentions of drugs, injections, blood, injuries, OD, and sick. Use of Y/N. Mentions of Steve x Nancy

Summary: After escaping from the grasp of evil Russians, Steve has some confessing to do after a high-induced sick

(A/N): This one isn’t my favorite, but I’m trying to make as many fics as I can before I hit another block. I hope you enjoy! 🩷

In this moment, you were one of the “Scoops-Troop” that wasn’t drugged and beat up by Russians. Currently you were forced, per usual, to babysit the kids. Also known as “let your friends wander while you have to take responsibility.” You didn’t mind though, knowing you got to see at least a tiny bit of “Back To The Future” for free. Dustin kept looking at the entrance of the theater, worried. “They’re fine, Dustin, they’re adults” you said, “Yeah, they’re high adults, and we’re not entirely clear right now” Erica rolled her eyes “I’m sure they’re fine”

Meanwhile, in the decently clean movie theatre restroom, Robin and Steve had gotten too distracted by the moving lights, and had gotten way too sick. After puking up whatever was left in their bodies, they weakly rested on the floor of their separate stalls. Robin ran a hand through her hair, before finally speaking “Have you… ever been in love?” Steve sighs “I was… I think I still am.” Robin taps her foot on the floor “Are you still in love with Nancy?” Steve scoffs “No.” Robin tilted her head “Why not?”Steve purses his lips “I think I found someone better for me…” The blonde’s interest peaks “Oh?” Steve smiles to himself “and it’s crazy, ‘cause I’ve known them for so long, but the way they make me feel is the same way Dustin said I should.” Steve plays with a certain bracelet this special someone had made for him wink wink.

“Ever since Dustin got back from camp, all he’s been telling me was ‘You gotta find your Suzie, you gotta find your Suzie’-“ Robin cuts in “Wait- who’s Suzie?” Steve groans “His little camp girlfriend I guess? To be honest, I don’t even think she’s real. That’s not the point though, you know, the point is… the person I like is someone I would talk to almost everyday. They were there even when I was a huge douche… they were there even when I was with Nancy.” Pressing his hand into the side of his head, Steve thought aloud “I think the only thing that stopped me from telling them was popularity… ‘maybe Tommy H would’ve thought I was weird’, it’s just- just stupid, you know?” Robins face grimaced, trying to figure out who Steve’s talking about, and praying it’s not herself. “Just, this summer, getting closer to them has made me laugh harder than I’ve laughed in years. Smile more than I’ve smiled in so so so so long.” Actively cringing, Robin starts to believe that he is actually talking about her“They’re just cool, you know? They’re just super tough on the outside, but usually always super annoyed to the point it’s almost cute”

After a long slur of silence, Steve knocks in the stall wall “Robin?” Followed by more silence “Did you OD in there?” She sits up a bit “No… I am still alive.” Steve slides under the stall wall, making his way into the other opened stall. “The floor is disgusting” said Robin, “Well, I am already covered in blood and vomit so…” He nods to himself “Well, what do you think?” She looks at him confused “About?” He rests his hand on his knee“The person” Robin turns tense “They sound awesome” His confidence grows “They are super awesome, how about the guy?” She smiles “I think he’s on drugs and isn’t thinking straight” he shrugs “Well I think he’s thinking more clearly than usual” Robins smile faded “He’s not… Look, he doesn’t even know them. And if he really knew them like- like really knew them, he wouldn’t even want to be their friend” He leans forward against his knees “Uh- yeah I think he would, cause he knows them pretty damn well” Robin interrupts “Steve look- it shocked me to my core but I like you, I really like you, but I’m not like your friends.” Steve’s brows furrow “And I’m not like Nancy wheeler-” “What? Yeah- I know, that’s why I like you too Robin but- what are you talking about?” Robin rolls her eyes “I know you’re talking about me, Steve” Steve shakes his head, eyes widened with shock “What?!” Robin sits up a bit “Steve, I don’t romantically like men” Steve waves his hands in her face “Robin! It’s not you! You don’t need to tell me what you’re into also, I really don’t mind what you’re into.”

Robins eyes look like they’re about to explode out of her head “It’s not me- then who is it? You spent your entire summer with them, you’ve known them for a while, you didn’t think your friends would like them- oh… it’s (Y/N).” “Yes!!” “Oh my god this changes everything.” Steve face palms. Robin stands up “I mean I could tell but, you know- wait you haven’t told them yet?” Steve nods with an annoyed look on his face “No, I haven’t told them yet.” Robin blinks slowly “I swear, it feels like you guys are already in a relationship, I’m surprised they aren’t in here now looking for you.” Steve’s brow lifts “What do you mean?” Robin kneels down in front of Steve and shakes his shoulders “Earth to dummy! They like you too!” Steve shakes his head “No they don’t… do they?” Robin rolls her eyes and walks out of the bathroom. “Do they?!” Steve yells before Robin exits. Steve slowly gets up and heads out, to only be met with you checking up on Robin.

You almost immediately get distracted by Steve, what’s not to get lost in? His beautiful eyes, his luxurious hair… Robin catches your and Steve’s eye contact and makes it her turn to check on Dustin and Erica. Robin mouthing ‘tell her!’ To Steve when she passes you. Steve clears his throat as you step up to him “god, those Russians really did a number on you, huh?” You chuckle softly as Steve puts his hands on his hips “oh, ha ha, you weren’t even there, you were with the two idiots running around.” You roll your eyes “We did kinda save your asses though, so I guess we’re even.” Steve shrugs, cheeks warming. “Come on, zombie, let’s get you cleaned up.” You take him by the arm and drag him into the bathroom, you begin to dampen a towel before he speaks “for what it worth… I’m glad you’re okay.” You pause for a second, you and Steve have always been buddy-buddy, and would always make playful jabs at each other, but the way he said it was so caring so genuine, it really touched you. You smile at him, looking into his eyes “I’m glad you’re okay, I mean, you were the one who got quite literally tortured” you let out an exhausted laugh. Steve sighs, “They basically ruined my best feature too…” he tuts looking at his bruised and bloodied face in the mirror.

You turn his head back to you as you begin to gently clean his face “I don’t think it’s that bad, you still look just as good as before.” Steve delicately gazes down at you as you clean him up “So you think I look good?” He raises a brow, a cheeky smirk appearing on his face. Rolling your eyes, you wash out the bloody rag. “Don’t make me repeat myself, Harrington, I’m being nice right now, it’s a rare occasion!” He chuckles softly “Whatever you say, baby” your cheeks turn a bright red, as you look at Steve befuddled. He laughs softly “Oh, ha-ha, very funny Steve.” He puts his hands up in defense “What did I do? Just calling you what you are.” Your mouth drops in shock “You’re so rude, Harrington” you give him a slight glare. “yeah, I’m rude, I know. You’re my baby though…” Steve smiles warmly, “I feel like you don’t know what that sounds like.” As you cleaned his face, he gently took your hand, putting the rag on the counter “I know what it sounds like… and I have been somewhat encouraged to admit something.” You tilt your head, “(Y/N) I’ve known you for years now, and honestly? The years I’ve spent with you have been the best years of my life.” He moves closer, his hand still in yours. “If I had died today, by the hands of a cruel Russian, I would’ve never gotten to tell you how I truly feel. And I won’t let myself get so close to that possibility that I might never get to tell you how I really feel.”

Currently, the only thing you can hear is Steve’s sultry voice, and your rapid heart beat. “Steve…?” His eyes well with tears. “I love you (Y/N) and the thought of me never being able to tell you is actual hell.” You look at him in disbelief, of course, you’ve felt the same for so long. “Steve I…” you smile softly before he slowly gets on one knee “Please, (Y/N)… tell me how you really- and I mean really feel.” You smile brightly and hug him almost knocking him onto the floor “Steve, you have no idea how long I’ve been waiting for you to tell me those words…” he pulls back slightly. “Do… do you feel the same?” He asked with a gleam of hope in his eyes. “Duh, Harrington…” you giggle softly wiping tears of joy off your face “I love you so damn much…” Steve chuckles, smiling brightly as he hugs you tighter than he ever has before. After a moment of your embrace, Steve pulls back, looking into your eyes, then at your lips. Without hesitation he leans in, and locks his lips with yours. Your lips melt with his, as he leans against the bathroom wall, pulling you closer to him. Enjoying the embrace, Steve pulls back and just nuzzles into your shoulder warmly. “I love you so much (Y/N)…” Running a hand through his hair, you respond “I love you so much, Stevie” Steve looks up at you, his well bruised face shining in the bright bathroom lights, happy that he can now rightfully call you his own.

#x reader #x you #fanfic #fluff #x you fluff #Steve #steve fluff #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington stranger things #steve x y/n #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x reader #steve x you #steve x reader #steve harrington

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confetti-cupcake · 1 month

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WIP Wednesday 🧁

Thanks for the tag @hoodie-buck! 🩷 This is from my Amazing Race fic, which I thought might be a one-shot, but is quickly devolving into a two-shot faster than I can say "roadblock". Enjoy!

Eddie sighs, wringing his hands together. “So, I’ve been thinking a lot. About what you said the other day. How I should put myself out there more. And how I should maybe start doing more things for myself.”

“Right,” Buck says, cocking his head a little.

“And I think you were right about that. You made me think about things in a way that I hadn’t really before. Mainly what I’m doing with my life, and what I’m getting out of it. I’ve been living with Christopher so front of mind that I never really stopped to think about what I want. And so I brought you here to ask you something that I think is a little overdue.”

Buck straightens up in his seat and sets his hands on the table. He looks back at Eddie, eyes glimmering with something that looks strangely like hope. “Okay.”

“Buck.” Eddie takes a deep breath. “Will you be my partner?” He clears his throat. “Uh, m-my Amazing Race partner,” he clarifies quickly because he realizes that was his id talking there. He suddenly wants to sink underneath the floorboards of this establishment and live on as a cellar stowaway, if it means he'll never be perceived or slip up again.

Buck just gapes at him–eyes wide, mouth hanging open, no reply. It’s as if unbridled joy was thrown into a bowl with wilting disappointment and was promptly blended into the most utter confusion he’s ever seen on a person, even for Buck. His eyes, his brow, his cheeks and his lips all tell vastly different stories. For the first time in Eddie’s life, he’s not sure what to make of Buck’s response.

“Oh.”

Oh? This was… not the reaction he’d been expecting. “Yeah. Is, um, everything okay?”

“Yeah, yeah,” Buck says, vaguely gesturing into the air. “Just, uh, processing it all. So you’re… you’re really going to do it?”

Eddie nods. “I called her back this morning. You were right. I should do something for myself. A little extra money wouldn’t hurt. And who knows? Maybe it could be fun.”

“And you want me to run it with you? What about your sisters, or–or your parents?”

“You really think I could stand to race around the world with anyone in my family right now? And I hope you realize that all the reasons that you said I’d be good at it apply to you, too. You know more random facts about the world than anyone else I know, and you know so much about the race. And I trust you to have my back. Can’t really say that for many other people.” His eyes widen. “You know how to drive stick, right? ‘Cause Bobby says that’s important.”

“I do, actually.” Bucks gaze shifts down to the table, his fingers lacing together anxiously. “Eddie, I–I can’t…” he trails off, and flits his eyes toward him again, but can't quite meet him square. “You sure you really want to do this with me?”

“Are you kidding? You’re the only person I’d want to do this with.” This, and everything else, for the rest of my life. “So, what do you say? You in?”

Tagging: @elvensorceress @eddiebabygirldiaz @monsterrae1 @queerbuckleys @bibuckbuckley

@ashwinmeird @loserdiaz

#buddie #buddie fic #eddie diaz #evan buckley #wip wednesday #fic snippet #nothing safe is worth the drive feed

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chronicbeans · 1 year

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Welcome Home Fae AU x Human Reader (Prologue? Concept?)

While trying to figure out what type of fae folk the other neighbors would be, I kinda came up with this idea if how an x Reader fic might start out. It only really has Wally and the Reader interact, since he is the only fae character I have made, and Eddie is stuck in the Fairy Realm. I just wanted to write it down before I lost it in all my other thoughts. As always, feedback is welcome and appreciated! OwO

TW: Small Mention of Threatened Harm

You watch your father cradle the small baby in his arms, which, in all the years that it has spent in your family, has never grown at all. How many years has it been? Fifteen? Twenty? It doesn't matter exactly. It disturbs and saddens you that this baby, who was acquired before you were even born, has not grown an inch, while you are now an adult.

Your father sighs, rocking in his rocking chair. His hair is a mess and his shirt covered in dirt. "It will be okay, little fella," he says, letting the small babe in his arms grab onto his finger "the wet nurse should be here, soon. Mom may have left, but we can still feed you once the nurse arrives. Isn't that right, (Y/N)?" You weakly smile, nodding "Yeah. She should be here in a couple of minutes. Let me light some candles to warm you up, Liam. I know you don't like fire, so the candles will be a bit better than the fireplace." You hurry over, lighting a few candles as your father mutters a soft "Thank you, sweetie. That would be lovely."

Once you return with the candles, you set them down on the table near your father's rocking chair. He hums, seemingly trying to soothe the now crying baby in his arms. Then, he looks over to you as he asks "Did I ever tell you why I never leave Liam alone?" You nod in response "People want to hurt him, right? They want to hurt him because he never grows." "Yes... but there is more. You see-" the front door to your little cottage resounds as the nurse knocks on it. "I will tell you later. Would you be a dear and go pick some berries from the forest? Some mushrooms, too. I will make us some dinner to eat while we talk."

With that, you take your daily stroll through the woods. Your cartage is close to Faeshire, but not so close as to be able to see the village. There is no path to and from the village from your cottage, either. Your father explained it as a way to protect Liam from the people who wish to hurt him. He even said that it was why he left his mother. She wanted to hurt him, too. The only situation you have heard about that is similar to Liam's is... well, fae folk got involved somehow and messed things up. Despite this, it is clear that your father loves Liam very much, despite his oddities. Who wouldn't? Liam is so sweet and has done nothing wrong...

You are so lost in though, you didn't realize that you were also physically lost in the woods. You look left and right, unable to spot your cottage or Faeshire. You do, however, see a berry bush nearby, deciding that you might as well check them out. They... LOOK edible, but you have never seen them before. Neither have you seen the oddly colored mushroom ring a few feet from the bush, or the singular apple tree a few feet further. Stepping closer the the strange ring, you instantly recognize it as a fairy ring. Blues, reds, yellows and even purples and greens all dust the mushroom tops. You stand a few feet away from the fairy ring, knowing full well that it acts as a transport to the Fairy Realm.

A rustle in the apple tree catches your attention. You look up, expecting to see a squirrel getting ready for winter. It is late autumn, after all. Instead, you see a pair of dark eyes peering through the leaves, as well as a few specks of yellow and blue peeking through. Letting out a yelp, you step back a few paces, causing a snicker to emit from whatever is in the tree. "Hello, human!" A monotone voice says, followed by a few more rustles as the creature climbs down the tree to a lower branch.

Within moments, you finally get to see what it is. A man... no... thing is sitting on a branch. Its yellow skin contrasts its blue hair, which has a few tree branches seemingly tangled or growing alongside it, neatly styled alongside the hair itself. The large, dark eyes stare you down as it grins, a set of pearly white teeth seeming out of place for this clearly inhuman creature. You point to it, your hand shaking as you ask "You are a fae, right? What are you" "Wally Darling, dear human! Do not be afraid. I'm a simple dryad. A kindly dryad. Much better than a pixie or a troll."

You relax slightly. Yes... The dryad are naturally kind, as long as you do not harm the trees. You haven't done so, so this dryad should be kind to you, right? Might as well shoot your shot and see if it can point you in the direction of home, or to Faeshire. Either one is good. "Okay... I am so sorry for asking, Wally, but... Can you help me home? I live in a cottage not far from Faeshire. I lost my way while searching for berries and mushrooms for my father. I am not asking for much more than a simple point of the finger towards either place." He leans back in the tree, resting his back against the bark of the trunk as his legs lie along a large branch. "Hmmm... That should be easy. Too easy. There is something else on your mind, I can tell. A little-big brother, perhaps?" Your eyes widen. How does he know?

He then chuckles as your expression, pointing to you "Here's a little deal for you, human! I know that you want help with his situation. I'll point you in the direction of your cottage, like you asked so kindly for. Once you get home, I'll give you... let's say three days to bring your little-big brother to me. After that, we shall make another deal that gives me something proper in return. The first two days should be spent getting both yourself and your brother prepared for the cold. Then, on the third, simply walk in a straight line through the woods, and I shall put you on course to this exact location. Got it?"

You stand as still as stone, staring up at him. This deal is a bad idea, you know for sure. Deals between humans and fae almost always go wrong. In fact, you are pretty sure they never go right for the human, which... well, you are the human in this deal. The sky is growing darker, though, and the cold is slowly seeping through your cloak to the very marrow of your bones. You didn't dress for the weather, due to only expecting to be out for an hour or so. Soon enough, when the sky goes pitch black with night, the air will freeze you as you wander blindly through the forest. Not only that, but this dryad seems determined to make a deal. Yes, the dryad's are naturally kind to good humans... but what if this one doesn't see you as kind? It may use whatever powers it has to make you even more lost if you don't agree.

"Okay... I agree." It grins, with a smile as wide and sly as a cheshire cat. "Good human. Now, let me see... Over there is the best path. It has the most edible berries and mushrooms, and will lead you straight to your cottage." It points somewhere behind you. As you take a few steps in the direction it pointed in, the dryad calls out "I'll be sure to keep you safe on your way." Then, you hear it scuttle back up its tree.

It was right, as within a mere minute, you have mysteriously arrived home, your basket full of berries and mushrooms and your father holding you tightly. "Never go missing like that again, (Y/N)! I was worried someone might have hurt you, or worse..." "Don't worry, dad. I was just a bit lost. On the bright side, I have brought us a lot of berries and mushrooms for dinner. I don't know what you would make with these... but whatever you make is fine."

You look down into your basket to count how many mushrooms you got, only to be surprised by an odd fruit in the basket. Picking it up, you see a nice, ripe, red delicious apple has somehow found its way into your basket.

#welcome home #welcome home arg #welcome home au #wally darling #wally darling x reader #fae au

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devildomsoup · 8 months

Note

Hey, I have a request. Can you make a oneshot of Levi comforting an MC with a strict parent.

If it's possible, of course.

Room to Breathe

Genre: Hurt/Comfort

Character: Leviathan

Type: Oneshot

MC: gender neutral they/them

Warnings: Mentions of strict parents.

MC was beyond upset when they entered Leviathan's room. They were tired even exhausted. MC had just gotten back from visiting their parents’ place in the human realm, and it did not go well at all. During their stay in the Devildom, MC had forgotten just how strict their parents were.

It was suffocating.

It felt like no matter what they did, they always did something wrong. It felt like they would forever be stuck under their parents' thumb and it hurt to think about it.

MC just could not grasp why in the world their parents acted the way they did. For ages, they had tried to convince themself that it was because their parents loved them, that MC's parents just wanted what was best for them. But it was getting harder and harder to convince themself that it was true.

Every time they visited their parents, they would return home feeling drained and sad. It hurt that they treated MC the way they did. Why could they not trust MC more? MC could take care of themselves; they had proven that on multiple occasions. Yet their parents still treated them like they were 5. It was frustrating beyond belief. It almost felt condescending at times.

Honestly, MC’s parents were starting to sound ridiculous with all their demands and rules. It was getting out of hand. No, colouring your hair, no shoes with heels, no sugary snacks, no food after 8, and the list went on. What was the most devastating thing was the fact that MC’s parents still managed to push their strict agenda onto them even when MC was not living with them. It felt like there was no escape.

With a sigh, MC flopped down on the bean bag chair in Leviathan’s room. Covering their face with their hands, MC tried not to think about how disastrous it had been to visit their parents.

Leviathan paused the game he was playing and took his headphones off. He was quiet for a bit, not completely sure what the best course of action would be right now. It was clear to him that MC was not doing well, but he was unsure of how to approach it. Would it be best to just leave them be, or should he try to talk to them about it? Would they even want to talk to him? He was just a yucky- No, he was not going to let his self-esteem issues stop him from comforting MC. Not this time. Leviathan took a shaky breath and approached MC, sitting down on the floor beside them.

“Hey uh MC… What's wrong?” Leviathan asked.

There was not an immediate response, and Levithan could only bite the insides of his cheek anxiously as he waited. Had he been too direct? Did they not want to talk? Leviathan shook his, trying to get those thoughts out of his head. He had to take this slow and let MC lead the conversation.

“It’s just…. It’s just really suffocating to be around my parents,” MC finally said with a tired sigh.

“I don’t know why they keep doing what they do. When I tell them to stop, we just end up arguing. It’s so tiring. At this point, all I’m asking them is to let me breathe. I can’t do this anymore. It's too much, it's too many rules, too many demands. I can’t keep up with it.”

Leviathan nods silently, letting MC say what they need to say.

“It feels like I’m drowning. No matter what I do or say, we always end up in some sort of argument because they think they are allowed to control my life or something. It is frustrating beyond belief. All I want is for them to recognize that I can take care of myself. They treat me like I’m a stupid 5-year-old kid. I am not. I don't even know why they do it!” MC huffed, frustrated by how their parents were acting.

“Am I being petty? Am I ungrateful for asking them to be less strict? Am I acting spoiled? Am I being spoiled?” MC asked.

Leviathan was quiet for a bit, putting his answer together inside his head. He nodded a bit before answering.

“I don’t think you are any of that MC. You are not wrong for being frustrated, and you are not petty or selfish or ungrateful for setting boundaries or saying that the way your parents are treating you isn’t okay. Honestly, from what I have heard, they make Lucifer look mild.”

MC chuckled a bit a the last comment, Levithan smiled bashfully as he heard MC chuckle. He was glad that MC was at least a little less upset.

“But honestly, MC, you are not wrong for feeling the way you feel. Your parents sound way too strict. Even my brothers agree, and it’s rare for us all to agree on something. I don't think you should beat yourself up over feeling like this. Your parents sound like insanely strict normies. If they were my parents, I would have summoned Lotan on them so you are handling it way better than I could,” Leviathan said, looking at the floor.

MC gave him a small smile. They felt way better after talking with Levithan.

“Thanks, Levi. It means a lot.”

Leviathan looked at MC who was still sprawled across the beanbag. They had moved so they were on their stomach with their face buried in the bean bag. The bean bag was big enough for 2 people and MC looked like they needed to be held. Maybe Levithan should give them a hug. No, no way, why would MC want to be held by him? He was a total loser and-

Leviathan bit the inside of his cheek as he closed his eyes tightly, trying to stop himself from slipping into his self-deprecating mindset. He did not want to think like that, not right now. He wanted to be there for MC.

He got up from the floor and slowly sat down on the bean bag beside MC. His face was going red as he tried to muster up the courage to speak, His eyes were darting around the room looking anywhere but MC.

“H-hey MC… would… would you, you know like a h-hug or something? Of course, if you don’t want to hug a yucky loser like me, that's fine. I'm not going to get angry or anything if you say no,” the last part of the sentence was said almost too fast for MC to register what he was saying.

MC moved their head so they could look at Levithan.

“Yeah… a hug sounds nice…”

After hearing MC’s answer, Leviathan shakily wrapped his arms around MC. It was hard for him to believe he was doing it. In the beginning, MC could barely feel Leviathan's arms, but after a bit of time, it seemed like the Avatar of Envy finally managed to gather the courage to hold them tight. It was nice, it was really, really nice. It felt like MC could finally breathe like the normal suffocating feeling their parents usually left them with was gone. While in Leviathan’s embrace, nothing bad could touch MC.

“This was just what I needed, Levi, thank you.”

“No problem… I-it’s nice for me too, you know.”

Leviathan was noticeably less nervous now. He had gotten used to holding MC, so it did not seem so scary anymore. He actually found himself wondering why in the world he had been so scared of doing it to begin with.

“MC if you ever feel suffocated by your parents, you can always come to me. I don’t mind, I’m willing to listen no matter how small it might be… You always listen to me when I need to ramble, so I want to return the favour.”

MC smiled it was rare for Levithan to get out of his shell like this they knew it took a lot of energy for him to do so. The fact that he used the energy to make MC feel better was heartwarming. MC turned around in Levithan’s arms, so they were facing him and gently used their finger to put a lock of Levithan’s hair behind his ear.

“Thank you, Levi, it means the world.

#obey me shall we date #obey me #obey me mc #obey me gn!reader #obey me gn!mc #obey me leviathan #obey me writing #obey me oneshot

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qierxing · 7 months

Text

Painting the Roses Red

Commissioned by the delightful rainbowsillz Yan!Riddle x F! OC | Continuation of this TW/CW: Non///Con, Oral Sex, Manipulation, attempted murder, unhealthy relationships

And many a tear we shed Because we know They'll cease to grow In fact, they'll soon be dead

Her fingertips are oily.

It’s a gross thing to fixate on, but she can’t help it. For the past few days, she has been running her fingers through her hair out of an instinctive habit. Yuu keeps hoping that her fingers will snag on silk and the familiar tug of a hair strand will happen, but to no avail. Instead, her fingers only get stuck on tangled curls and greasy strands of unwashed hair.

Automatically, her hands drop to her collarbone, but reality is still cruel. All her prized possessions are gone no matter how much she wishes for it. Perhaps if she closed her eyes, she’ll be able to find them in her dreams.

Three hollow knocks echo through the house.

Her stomach twists in on itself. She knows it’s silly to be so afraid. If she must get morbid, then she would know better than anyone that he would not be the one waiting on the other side of the door. No, in the end, it most likely will be her succumbing out of desperation. At least that’s what the writer in her mutters bitterly.

And yet, she pauses before the main doors of Ramshackle.

What if it is him? Then what will she do? Her eyes slide to the side of the door to the shoe rack before stopping at the umbrella leaning next to it. For a moment, she wonders if it’ll be enough if it’s used as a bludgeon. Yuu quickly snaps her gaze away, shaking her head. How crazy has she become these days?

When she opens the door, a familiar figure greets her eyes and she almost collapses from relief.

“Can I come in?” Trey asks, head tilted in a weary smile while carrying a tin of cookies.

–

The cookies pair extremely well with the cheap tea bags Yuu got from Sam’s store.

“Sorry to disturb you like this out of the blue.” Trey is so polite, letting her snack on most of the lemon cookies he brought over. He’s barely even touched his cup of tea, which is a shame, because the tea and cookies are quite tasty together.

“No, no, you’re fine, Clover-senpai.” She says. “Is something the matter?”

Trey gives that sheepish looking smile again, meanwhile rubbing his hand over his neck. It’s a nervous tick that she’s familiar with. After spending so much time in Heartslabyul, it’s nearly impossible to miss it.

“The thing is…” He starts slowly. “The dorm’s fine and all, but the mood’s been off these past few days.”

Cold chills run down her back.

“Ever since the tea party, Riddle’s been a bit…tense.” Trey sighs, finally meeting her eyes again. “Did…you guys have an argument or something?”

An argument. Despite the dread and nausea curling in her gut, she refrains from giving a sharp laugh. She settles on saying, “That’s one way to put it.”

There’s a pause while Trey purses his lips while clasping his hands.

“I don’t want to pry, and it’s not any of my business,” Trey finally says, breathing out a heavy sigh. “But Riddle is my friend and I don't want to see you two go through this.”

Her fingers are already shakily combing through her hair (she should really wash it soon). Another silence goes on. Trey clears his throat, fiddling with the teacup in front of him.

“…also Riddle wanted me to tell you that he has your hair ribbons and brooch.” Crushed flowers and grass flashes in her vision and the urge to vomit rises within her throat. How despicable. Knowing full well what those items meant to her and holding it above her head can only be a childish tyrant’s actions. Still, he has her right in the palm of his hand. It’s a subtle ultimatum that already speaks for itself.

“…will a letter suffice?” Humiliating defeat. Blood roars through her ears, and yet she can only manage a pitiful response.

It’s obvious Trey is taken back, but after looking at the expression on her face, he drops his eyes and nods. “I can make sure it gets to him.”

Her lips curl into a cracked, sharp grin. If she couldn’t have the honor of saying what she wants to the culprit himself, then she can make sure the words written in smooth cursive will carry all the fire and spite she harbors.

“Wonderful.”

—

“You’re back.”

Trey nods uneasily at Riddle’s greeting. His housewarden doesn’t have to say anything else, merely holding out a waiting hand. There’s a small pause, a questioning whether Trey should really do this, but it’s gone the moment Riddle’s eyes narrow in impatience, and the letter is in his gloved hand without another word.

Trey watches apprehensively as Riddle slices open the envelope with a letter opener. Bronze handle, with the blade being a sturdy iron. It’s a little thing that escapes most people’s notice, but he remembers. The gift is something Riddle cherishes deeply ever since he received it. After all, only two people send letters to Riddle: his mother, and the Ramshackle prefect.

Trey waits. Riddle’s eyes scan over the papers in his hands. He’s not sure what is going through Riddle’s head right now. He wasn’t privy to what Yuu wrote in her letter nor did he want to be nosy. But he remembers her face. That alone itself is enough for reservations.

Riddle laughs, jarring Trey from his train of thoughts. Trey watches in intrepidation as his housewarden chuckles as if he’s been told the funniest joke of them all.

“Yuu has quite a sense of humor.” Riddle’s laughs finally die down to amused chortles, still reading the paper as fondly as one would read a love letter. However, Trey is quite sure that the contents within that paper are not professments of affection.

“Trey.” The vice housewarden straightens out of habit at Riddle calling him. His tone indicates an order to be bestowed. “Prepare for another tea party.”

The fifth day of the month has passed a week ago. There’s no Unbirthday parties scheduled in the near future. It’s evident this tea party will not be a public one. But what can he do now? He is only a subject under Riddle’s iron hand—and it is his duty to serve his Queen.

“Of course, Housewarden.”

—

Yuu arrived five minutes early, to account for unexpected matters.

Things such as being stopped for holding a cast iron pan and a dark expression. Thankfully, it seems that other Heartslabyul students knew better than to stop the Ramshackle prefect, and especially not when she’s mad. They quickly slink to the side as they side eye her walking past, casually swinging the pan back and forth in time with her steps.

She’s sure at the very least it will give Riddle some pause, even if it’s suspicious. It’s not like she has any magic to defend herself with. So he must give some lenience where due.

Trey is waiting for her by the door to the garden. His gold eyes drop to the pan in her hands for a quick second before meeting hers again. He nods in gentle encouragement.

“Go on in. Everything’s set up already.”

Yuu still isn’t really prepared when she steps through the door. She thought the pan in her hand would give enough courage to get through the freezing fear of seeing red. It’s not the same setup as before. There’s no whimsical decorations. Just a simple table with refreshments. And yet, her grip on the pan almost loosens at the sight of the boy sitting at the table.

“You’re on time, for once.” He smiles over his cup of tea, not caring at how her face twists in instinctive disgust. If he’s noticed what’s in her right hand, he gives no indication. “Come, sit.”

Still, Yuu is annoyed–she should be the one driving this conversation, not him. She makes a point by deliberately setting the pan on the quaint table, right next to her teacup. Riddle finally acknowledges the action with a frustratingly fond smile that has Yuu’s blood boiling. She huffs, and allows Riddle to pour her tea.

“Where’s my brooch and ribbons.” It’s not a question. She doesn’t really care for where he has them, all that’s needed is for him to do his part and hand them over. That was part of the deal they made. She hoped that that rigid, upright part of him would still be somewhat intact, even after everything.

Riddle clicks his tongue in mock disapproval. “Patience, my love.” The nickname is enough to have her gripping her teacup too tightly. She’s starting to reach for her pan when thankfully, he reaches within his overcoat and brings out her precious items. They bear no sign of being under duress, all sparkling clean within his palm. Yuu pushes away the thought of how it was like the perfect crime scene; unblemished with no traces to the culprit.

But when Yuu reaches out desperately to grab the accessories, Riddle curls his fingers around them and pulls them out of her reach. Like a cliffhanger, she is left exclaiming in barely contained rage and confusion.

“Give them back! You–” She has to stop herself, remind herself where she is on this precarious slope. “Riddle. Please. You promised to give them back if I came here.”

“I did.” Riddle once again raises his tea cup to take another agonizing long sip. “I’m simply adding some terms before I do.”

The urge to bash his head in comes back in a violent rush. Who does he think he is?

“And what exactly are those terms?” Yuu asks, curling her fingers once again around the pan next to her. Riddle’s steely eyes only glint in amusement.

“First, you are not to associate yourself with those underclassmen ruffians anymore.” The verdict is delivered as a death sentence: cold, unfeeling, and absolutely unreasonable. Before Yuu could even try to protest, he continues without even pausing.

“Second, you are to stay by my side as often as possible.” This term has her stopping in her tracks. Ironically, it was more reasonable than the first one. But this is not a contractual term. No, it’s one of his beloved rules-meant to uphold the core of his world.

“My world does not revolve around you, and yours shouldn’t revolve around mine.” Yuu spits the words in choked frustration. “Even if you’re my friend, you’re going way too far.”

Riddle only stares, iron hues boring through her. Yuu feels like she’s being chipped away, slowly but surely against her will. Heartslabyul’s housewarden has always been noted to be headstrong and stubborn. These traits are what won him his throne, after all.

“To correct you, we’re not friends,” Riddle closes his eyes while taking another sip. “How can we be friends, after sharing such an intimate moment together?”

He’s not listening. Of course he isn’t. Why would a Queen deign to listen to a puny subject’s pathetic cries? It doesn’t make her any less angry though.

“You’re crazy, “ she seethes. Riddle laughs, stern face breaking into a hauntingly delighted smile.

“Am I? I must say, you’re crazier for thinking you can just walk away from me.” His chilling words don’t match his smug face at all.

She doesn’t hesitate or pause, yet by the time she’s grabbing the pan and bringing it over her head, Riddle’s eyes flash and she’s restrained by some unknown force. It digs into her wrist, making her release the iron pan by instinct and it clangs upon the ground, sliding away a good few feet. Damn him, she couldn’t even see how he activated his magic–his magical pen is nowhere to be found.

“Oh dear, you weren’t going to resort to violence, were you?” Yuu snarls at Riddle’s condescending chuckle. “It would be most unladylike. Besides, I think you’re forgetting that I’m one of the more powerful mages at this school.”

“Spare me the lecture,” she hisses, tugging at her wrists, desperately trying to dislodge whatever is pinning her in place. Sadistic bastard.

“There wouldn’t be a need for a lecture in the first place if you would just listen.” Yuu doesn’t miss the sharp edge to his scolding. She finally realizes something about this unknown force purposely digging into her skin, pinpointing her veins and nerves—it reminds her of curved rose thorns, sharp and unforgiving, and completely nasty to remove.

She had walked into a trap.

—

In a way, Yuu was glad to be inside. There were many outdoor elements she would not be fond of at the moment.

She would still rather it not happen at all. The unknown force had returned at full power and dug into the junction of her wrist and waist when Trey asks her if she is okay. Yuu can only smile as pain flares from nerves being stretched to their limits, assuring him she’s fine. Riddle only took advantage of her inability to speak more to override her completely, sweeping her away to his bedroom with the excuse that she needed rest.

He’s gotten better, she notes. As she lays upon velvet covers with hair and clothes fanned around her like a halo, it’s the only thing that she can really think of without wanting to vomit. A high pitched moan echoes in the room and Yuu realizes through groggy dizziness that it was from her. The realization is snuffed by another bolt of pleasure wracking through her body, making her arch her back and scream.

Riddle rises above her spread legs, ironed shirt and blazer discarded, humming in satisfaction. A lithe pink tongue peeks out and swipes away shiny liquids coating the lower half of his face. He runs a careless hand to push back his hair, smirking down at her boneless form and glazed eyes.

“Good girl.” Shame floods her as more cum drools out of her hole in response, a deep seated wanting burning through her body. Gritting her teeth, she can barely even push herself up on a pillow in an attempt to orient herself when Riddle traps her with his arms on the headboard.

“Now, now,” he coos. “We’re not finished here.”

Her breath is stolen away in a single, feral thrust that has her scrabbling for hold on Riddle’s shoulders.

—

Something shiny draws her eye from the nightstand. When she strains her neck to see what it is, her chest tightens.

The antique letter opener was one of the most expensive items she had bought when she arrived in this world. Yuu would never have bought it, even for herself. It would’ve been a waste of madol and she could not afford to, what with caring for Grim and their living expenses. As much as she would have enjoyed it as an avid novelist, there simply would have been no point to, especially when she would be returning to her own world.

The circumstances just happened to line up. Riddle’s birthday was nearing, and she had been out for a lark in the town square. A quaint little antique shop had caught her eye, and despite Grim’s bored protests, she dragged her companion to the store’s door eagerly. She had only meant to be window shopping—but the letter opener was too beautiful to pass by.

The storekeeper chirped something about it being a perfect gift for a significant other when ringing up the purchase. Something about how the creator first carved the symbols of roses around the handle for his wife (for those were her favorite flowers) and gifted it to her, so she would always remember him when she used it. At the time, Yuu only blushed and politely thanked her, and left the establishment with swirling feelings. She thought it preposterous that Riddle and her could ever have such a relationship.

It’s sitting askew on the nightstand, next to an opened letter. She knew whose it was without even looking. Who else sends him letters besides his mother? Yuu only wishes she could reach further and tear that paper to shreds, burn it all to ashes. Riddle stirs, face still buried in her bare chest, soft breaths tickling damp skin.

She thought of how delighted she was that she had a pen pal in this world. Even if their letters were mostly nonsensical past times, Yuu thought she knew the Riddle everyone else was afraid of.

Thankfully, Riddle doesn’t stir when she wriggles an arm free of the sheets, slowly, cautiously reaching out towards the nightstand. Her fingers brush against cold metal, barely able to tilt the handle enough to make it slide towards her opened palm. Yuu just barely is able to catch it, the awkward position making the sharp part dig into her flesh.

Adjusting her hold, she raises the blade above her head. For a moment, she’s frozen in place as her eyes examine the sleeping body laying upon her. Not in hesitation(she is long past morality at this point)—but to figure out where best to strike.

The head is viable, but the blade might be too dull to do any real damage. If she aims just right, she could try going for the heart through his pale shoulder blades. But she’s a novelist, not a mad scientist. The chances she actually manages to pierce his heart is too low and risky (as much as she would love to try).

His throat, however…

She swears he was sleeping. His eyes were closed, and his breathing slow and steady. But somehow, her aim still misses, just barely slicing skin and missing important nerves to be a fatal blow. Her wrist is caught in a tight grip as Riddle looks up at her with a wry smile.

“Using your gift against me? Rather rude, don’t you think?” His sleepy voice dances with mirth even though his neck bleeds little droplets of crimson. Her eyes follow the trail down his Adam's apple, down his collarbone, and finally, it trickles down and stains the white bedsheets a bright scarlet tint that reminds her of the roses that symbolize the dorm.

“I’ll kill you.” The words are murmured with quiet conviction. A promise.

The Queen of Hearts laughs.

“Good luck, then, my dear.”

#yandere twisted wonderland #yandere twst #my works #commissions

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