#She told us to submit something physically. i handed it in physically. i have a 0 for the assignment. it's a large assignment.

[illdothehotvoice]

oh. I'm not on the verge of failing this class my professor just hasn't graded half my assignments.

[mattscoquette]

𝐈𝐓’𝐒 𝐀 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄/𝐇𝐀𝐓𝐄 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐒𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐍 ⸝⸝ matthew sturniolo

in which a quiet introverted girl attempts to befriend her popular neighbor

warnings smut (p in v, slight praise kink, use of pet names), cursing, arguing, kissing, matt x fem!oc

wc 6.1k

introduction chapter 1 chapter 2 chapter 3 chapter 4 chapter 5 chapter 6

addilyn richardson,

was currently standing in front of her torn apart closet on a monday morning, contemplating what to wear. normally she would just throw on something comfortable, but today was the day her and matt had their science project to present. she woke up with a sick feeling in her stomach, presumably from nervousness. the nervousness from presenting, and from seeing matt for the first time in days. she stood there, seriously considering playing hooky today and going back to sleep. it was so cold, and the warmth of her bed was calling out to her. she shook her head. she couldn’t do that to matt, though, not after she treated him this weekend. she texted him early saturday morning that she was still “feeling under the weather” and that it was best if they wrapped up the project on their own. all they had left was the worksheet, so it wasn’t a lot of work to do, but deciding to work alone and then submit it was risky. she had ignored his questions of how the project was coming along, and she even declined nicks request to hang out at his house. although he was weary, matt trusted addilyn, though, he knew she was a smart girl and she could pass them with ease.

addilyn sighed, settling on a her favorite pair of jeans. she rummaged through the clothes on the hangers, trying to find something that paired well with the pants. she found a small blue lacy tank top, close to the blue of matt’s eyes, and decided on that. she shook her head, trying to push thoughts of the brunette haired boy to the back of her mind. she had to focus today, no more matt, she could not mess up her presentation in front of her class. she looked in her mirror quickly, before opting to put a silky white headband in her hair, attempting to make her curls look a little neater. she tugged a sweater on over her shoulders, grabbing her backpack, before heading out the door.

she hasn’t gotten a ride from matt for the last couple days, not since the day they came so close to kissing. granted, matt would have driven her if she asked, but she grew distant with him, not wanting to embarrass herself anymore than she already had. that moment kept replaying in her head all weekend. how she felt him nearly pressed against her body, the feeling of their noses brushing against one another, how close their lips were to touching one another. she thought about what it would feel like to kiss matt. if it would be gentle, their lips barely grazing one another, or if it’d be the rough, messy kind, where it was a clash of teeth together. she wouldn’t have minded either one, as long as she was kissing matt.

addilyn. she told herself. get a hold of yourself. you need to present well today.

making her way to the bus stop, she saw matt’s van drive past her, nick sitting in the back. addilyn sighed, putting her earbuds in as she waited for the bus alone in the cold. a part of her hoped matt would’ve pulled over, jumping out of the van, and ushering her in quickly, telling her that she did nothing wrong and he liked her back. they would drive to school together, walking in hand in hand, until they had to go separate ways. but he didn’t, he simply kept on driving.

₊˚ 𓂃✧

“i hope you all are ready to present today,” the physics teacher announced as the bell rang, watching a few stragglers shuffle in. addilyn held her breath, looking over to matt. he didn’t turn around to meet her gaze. “maria and joey already offered to go first, but before each group goes up, i’ll allow you guys to prepare yourselves in the hallway.”

addilyn sighed of relief. she only briefly met with matt before class to go over their assignment quickly, barely having enough time to make sure they did it right. although she was confident in her part of the work, she couldn’t help but feel worried it was wrong. she was so out of it this weekend, picking up her phone every five minutes to see if matt would reach out her, and ignoring him when he did. she partly felt bad, but that feeling would instantly be washed over with embarrassment. he texted her a few times in the span of the two days, but addilyn just kept on ignoring matt, praying he would just forget about it and let her work. by sunday, though, matt stopped reaching out to her. she couldn’t help but feel disappointed, but she knew ignoring him would get the boy to leave her alone. but deep down she hoped that if she pushed him away enough he would come back around.

the class watched as each group went up, sitting in anticipation waiting for their turn. about four groups in, addilyn and matt were on deck to go.

“gianna and kian, you’re up now. addilyn and matthew are after if you guys want to go to the hallway.” the teacher told them.

the two of them glanced at one another, slowly getting up and going into the hallway with their project. taking in a deep breath, addilyn looked at matt up and down. he wore dark blue baggy jeans with his car keys clipped onto the belt loop, accompanied with a black and red t-shirt that read ransom across the front. he wore a black zip up over his clothes, where his hands were currently engulfed by the sleeves. her stomach was instantly in knots as matt smiled at her and sat the experiment down delicately on the linoleum floor. he pulled out a bag of marbles from his zip up’s pockets. “you ready?”

addilyn nodded quietly, watching as he bent down, setting the marble on the top part of the slope. he let it go, watching it go down and run its course. it raced down all the slopes, speeded through all the sharp turns, evening spinning around and around the funnel they added. it was flawless. matt and addilyn smiled at one another, both of their chests feeling tight.

“you finished the packet, right?” matt asked, looking at the paper she held in her hands. “can i see it?”

she nodded slowly, a soft blush creeping onto her cheek, handing the pile of paper to the boy in front of her. she hadn’t seen him in person since friday afternoon when he bumped into her, when he saw her crying. she had been so embarrassed. she had a crush on the kid for barely a week and she’d been a crying wreck over him. how pathetic of her. she wanted to explain to matt that afternoon she was upset about something that happened earlier in school, but she couldn’t bring herself to look in his eyes without bursting into tears. instead, she ran away and ignored him all weekend. she watched matt intently as he looked through the packet, seeing the mix of both of their handwriting as they had both taken turns working on it. he paused as he got to one section addilyn did over the weekend by herself.

she watched as his eyebrows furrowed. “are you sure you calculated this right?” he asked, showing her the paper as she leaned into him to look. she could smell the intoxicating scent of his cologne. she flashed back to last week, when his face was inches from her and the only thing she could smell was him. his scent stayed in her room all night. matt’s voice snapped her back to reality. “i think you used the wrong formula.”

“no i didn’t, matt.” she told him confidently, looking up to meet his eyes. she looked back down at the work, going over it carefully. she was certain she did it correctly.

“no, you used the formula for potential energy, not kinetic.” matt pressed back, showing her the paper and pointing. “look.” she directed her gaze back down at the equation in front of her, then back at him absolutely dumbfounded.

“i didn’t.”

“you did.”

“matt, i know what i’m doing,” she told him, her voice starting to grow louder. “i know i did it right.”

“addy, you did it wrong.” matt shot back at her, also starting to become frustrated.

she didn’t even realize she was yelling. it’s as if all the flirting and joking they shared with each other over the last week was gone, and it was the first day all over again. “who’s the straight a student here, matt? i know i did my work right. you just don’t want to admit you’re wrong!”

he shook his head, opening his mouth to speak, before addilyn interrupted him. “i know how to do this shit matt, you don’t, so don’t come out here questioning my work that i know is ri-”

he cut her off by pulling her by the arm into an empty classroom, dropping the papers to the floor and shutting the door behind them. her back was flush to the door, matt standing over her with his arms extended on either side of her head. the space between them was so small, it was dizzying. she looked up at him, trying not to let it falter her confidence.

“what is your issue?” she spat, “we need to go over our project.”

“my issue?” matt yelled, “what’s my issue? you’re the one who’s been acting weird the last four days! we wouldn’t be in this situation right now if you just did the project with me over the weekend instead of avoiding me.”

if looks could kill, matt would be six feet under the ground. addilyn glared up at him. “i wasn’t avoiding you, asshole, i was sick.”

“sick, my ass,” he argued, “you were avoiding me! i know you were!”

“was not.”

“were too”

“matt,” she whisper-shouted. he still had her against the door. “stop it.”

he looked down at her sighing, trying to cool himself down. she continued to look up at him with daggers in her eyes. all the emotions the two felt in the past couple of weeks, they were getting it all out now, only in the form of an argument. how typical of addilyn and matt. she spoke up again. “i knew working on this project with you would go to shit.”

“you don’t mean that.” he told her, looking back just as angrily, standing even closer to her than before.

she stood her ground, trying her best not to feel small underneath matt. he’d always been a few inches taller, but with the position they were in now, he towered over her small frame. she yelled back at him. “yes, i do mean it! if we never worked on this assignment together, everything would’ve worked out so much easier! i would have been fine doing it alone, and you wouldn’t have been bothering me and ruining my-“

matt couldn’t handle the sound of her voice yelling at him anymore, it sounded like nails on a chalkboard. in the heat of the moment, not even thinking, he took his hands off the door from behind her and grabbed her shoulders, pressing his lips to hers. she blinked, kissing him back after a moment. he pulled away from the girl, eyes wide as he met addilyn’s shocked expression that was plastered all across her face.

what the fuck did he just do.

matt didn’t even have the chance to speak, hell, he couldn’t even move, all of his words left his mouth. addilyn blinked up at him, pausing for moment, before wrapping her arms around his neck, pulling the boy into her. she titled her head to the side, deepening the kiss as she kept one arm wrapped around him, her other hand moving to hold his face close to hers. matt’s hands moved down and gripped her hips, pressing them against his. he kissed her back hard, like she would slip out of his grasp if he didn’t. addilyn cupped his jaw, pulling him impossibly closer to her as she felt him smirk against her lips slightly. she broke away momentarily to look at matt, flashing him a soft smile, his favorite smile. before she could fully pull back, matt was already connecting his lips back with hers. he ran his hands up and down her sides as he kissed her with all the feelings he couldn’t convey over the last couple weeks. addilyn sighed against the boy’s lips, moving her hands from his face up into his hair. she tugged lightly at the brown locks while she felt matt’s teeth graze against her lip. addilyn pulled back slightly, placing a few small pecks on matt’s grinning lips before pulling away fully.

they two of them giggled, still holding on to one another. matt spoke up first. “i still think you did the equation wrong.”

“shut up” addilyn laughed, pressing her lips to matt’s once more.

₊˚ 𓂃✧

“and that’s how kinetic energy works.” matt concluded, taking the marble off of the track and placing it back into his pocket. the class burst into applause, a few kids even obnoxiously whistling to really add to it. addilyn beamed next to matt, looking at him for a moment before returning her gaze back to the rest of the class. the pair returned to their respective seats, glancing at one another as their teacher praised the work. they sat through a few more presentations, before the bell dismissed the students, matt finding his way to addilyn rather quickly. they walked together out of the classroom, not long before the girl pulled matt by the arm into a lesser crowded hallway.

“hi.” she grinned up at him, arms hugging around his waist. he brushed a curl behind her ear, retuning the smile.

“do you wanna skip the rest of the day?” he asked, watching addilyn’s face widen. it was only the middle of the day, they still had at least four more classes before they had to go home. she instantly shook her head no. “come on addy, live a little.” he laughed, watching her contemplate her choices. stay in school like you’re supposed to, or spend the day with matt.

“i’ll buy you lunch.” he bribed in a sing-songy voice, his hands still playing with the hair behind her ears. he brought his lips to her cheek, kissing it softly a few times. he pulled back. “please?”

she sighed, giving in. matt cheered, lacing his hand with hers as he pulled her out of the double doors leading outside. she instantly felt a chill run down her spine as they were met with the cold winter air. matt took notice, slipping off his puffer jacket he was wearing and giving it to her. she smiled sweetly at him as he opened the passenger side of his van, letting her in. he climbed in next to her, starting the car and immediately turning on the heat on full blast. he plugged his phone in, queuing up a few songs, before kicking the car into reverse.

“where to?” he asked addilyn, backing out of the parking space, putting his hand on her knee as he began to drive. she felt her face redden at the action, shifting her legs closer to the center console as matt rubbed his thumb back and forth.

the girl shrugged. “wherever you want to take me.” matt smirked, an idea popping into his head.

they drove comfortably, making small talk about whatever came across their minds. after about fifteen minutes, matt pulled into the parking lot, turning off the car and looking over at addilyn. he found that she was already staring at him, leaning across the middle to place a quick peck on her smiling lips. “let me get the door for you.” he said quietly, quickly getting out of the van and opening her side of the door, offering a hand out.

“such a gentleman.” she laughed, taking his hand in hers. she still was wearing his puffer jacket, only a thin zip up keeping matt’s body from being met with the brisk january air around them.

“are you sure you’re not cold, matt?” she asked the boy as they began to walk, hands still held together.

“i’m fine.” he promised, leaning down to kiss her rosy cheek. they walked through the parking lot, before the park came into view. the large bare trees that surrounded the vicinity became separated by a walkway that lead into the grassy area, where the playground and baseball field resided. she gasped, turning to look at matt.

“i love this park!” she gushed, leading matt though the gate. they started down the walkway, making their way around the track that stretched a mile around the perimeter of the park. they lost count of how many laps they took, walking with their hands together the whole time. they talked about whatever crossed their minds.

“tell me about the book you’re reading right now, adds.” matt asked her, turning to look over at the girl as they walked. her cheeks were all pink from the cold, her lips glossy. she looked back at him, the widest smile spread across her face. nobody’s ever asked her that. she talked to him about the book, her favorite characters, favorite quotes, all of it. she talked of the book she read previously to the one now, and how it was all connected. matt just listened and smiled at her as she talked, loving the way her eyes lit up while she spoke.

they continued walking around as matt told addilyn about his love for nature and the comfort it brought to him, especially in the colder months.

“i just love the trees and shit,” matt told her, taking in the surrounding around them. the trees were dead and bare from the cold of the winter, but matt continued to admire them anyway. “my favorite season is fall because of the leaves. i think they look super pretty and i love the colors of everything.” addilyn beamed up at him listening to him talk about his other favorite things about fall. he talked about how he loved to wear fuzzy sweaters as the weather grew colder, and found peace for himself being surrounded by the outdoors.

they’d been in the park for a good hour and a half, just talking about everything and nothing all at once. they were currently sat on a bench that was located across from a small pond, abandoned from the small animals that typically lived there due to the freezing winter weather. addilyn was resting her head on matt’s shoulder as they still held hands, simply enjoying the moment in silence. she was tracing small patterns on his hand when she broke away and sat up for a moment to look up at him.

“what?” matt smiled, looking back at addilyn. she shook her head, muttering a small nothing, leaning up slightly to capture his lips in a sweet kiss. it felt just like the dream he’d been having all week.

the air around them was cold, but addilyn felt so warm against him. she removed their intertwined hands and wrapped both her arms around his neck, pulling him back down into her as she leaned her back against the bench. matt turned his body to match hers, arms instinctively wrapped around her waist as she sighed contently into the kiss.

“do you want to go back to my house?” he whispered against her lips.

she pulled back, glancing up at matt. “yes please,” she said, leaning back into him. the pair shared a few more quick pecks before they got up, walking back to matt’s car with their hands together once more

₊˚ 𓂃✧

when addilyn and matt got back to his house, they were the only two home seeing as it was still the middle of the day. they were currently up in matt’s bedroom, sitting together on his bed watching a movie. despite the fact the two had already kissed, both of the teenagers were terrified to make another move. they were both sat upright, matt’s arms crossed while addy’s sat her in her lap, their legs barely touching one another. they both wanted more but neither would act on it. addilyn kept feeling matt’s not-so-subtle glances at her, only looking back at him when his focus returned to the t.v.

this was about the fifth time addilyn addilyn looked over at matt in the span of thirty minutes, and she was ready to give everything up right then and there. upon arriving home, matt pulled a grey hoodie over his t-shirt, trying to warm himself after spending nearly two hours in the cold outside. brown hair flopped over his blue eyes and scrunched eyebrows as he tried his best to focus on the movie and ignore the twitching feeling in his jeans. his cheeks stayed a pink rosy color, his lips slightly parted while he breathed heavily. addilyn felt her stomach flutter as matt repositioned himself so he was now laying down as opposed to having his back against the headboard. his arms moved to lay behind his head, his sweatshirt riding up just enough to reveal the waistline of his boxers. matt could feel her eyes digging in to him, looking up and smirking to meet her gaze.

“take a picture, addy, it’ll last longer.” he said in the most flirtatious way, the words immediately making her panties soaked. two hours ago she’d kissed a boy for the first time ever, and here she was now wondering what he’d feel like insider of her. her eyes stayed wide looking at matt as she felt a blush creep up onto her cheeks and the back of her neck.

“sorry, i just-” she started, being cut off by matt’s arms pulling her on top of him following his sudden and bold change in attitide. “matt!” she yelped, half giggling.

“hi pretty girl,” he smiled up at her, his face getting red and his dick starting to get hard as his hands made home on her hips, rubbing them back and forth. her hands traveled up his chest to play with the strings of his hoodie

“hi” she whispered back, unable to stop herself from trailing her eyes all over his body. he looked so good underneath her, it was driving her insane. matt’s hands moved to her back, bringing her down to meet his lips in a passionate and hot kiss. the two lazily kissed as addilyn felt matt’s tongue swipe against her bottom lip, granting him access by opening her mouth more. they both explored the inside of each other’s mouth as their tongues clashed against one another. matt slid his hand beneath the bottom of her tank top, lightly tracing tiny shapes into the small of her back. she whined quietly at the boy’s touch, matt swallowing her sounds as their lips moved together perfectly in sync as they continued to exchange slow, sloppy kisses.

“matt,” she breathed out, pulling away to catch her breath as he began to kiss down her neck. he stopped when he got to where her neck met her shoulder, peppering kisses all along the base and across her collarbone. she gasped when she felt him going back to leave marks all along where he had previously kissed her. he slowly worked his way back up her neck, sucking and biting at the sweet spot beneath her ear. she let her hands dance in his brown locks, pushing him closer into her neck as he continued to leave small kisses over the purple bruises he was leaving.

he pulled away from her neck, looking up to meet her eyes. her one hand still stayed twisted in his hair, the other moving down to rest on his chest, while she breathed heavily and looked back at him intensely, smiling at the boy beneath her. he felt his mouth curl up into a big grin pressing his lips to hers again. he left small quick pecks on her lips while addilyn was giggling softly in between them, trying to kiss him back and laugh at the same time. matt removed his hands from her waist, holding her face still while he began give her dozens of small kisses across her cheeks, forehead, nose, closed eyelids, and all over the rest of her face. he made his way back around to her mouth, pressing it against his firmly. “i want you so bad addilyn,” he mumbled against her lips, “please.”

she retreated from his lips, looking down at him with wide eyes. she’d be fantasizing about this moment more than she’d like to admit for the past week, and now it was finally happening. it all seemed to have worked out perfectly, there only being one issue.

“i’m a virgin” she blurted out, her mouth going up to cover her mouth. she hid her face in the crook of matt’s neck in immediate embarrassment, him just giggling softly and running his hands up and down her back.

“it’s fine, addy,” he told her softly, whispering in her ear, “i just want to make you mine.”

she whined quietly in his neck, rocking her hips back and forth slightly against his now noticeable boner. “what if i’m bad?” she asked, drawing away from his neck.

he peered up at her, moving his hand up to cup her jaw, running his slender thumb across her cheek. “listen to me sweet girl, we don’t have to do anything you’re uncomfortable with.” he examined her face, looking for any signs of discomfort before he pulled her down into an endearing kiss.

“i want you too, matt.” she sighed into his lips, getting a little more comfortable and planting kisses down his neck. matt smiled, flipping the two around so he was now on top of her, holding himself up with his two hands. his lips met her in hungry and ravaging kiss, very different from the one they had just shared previously. it was a mess of teeth and tongue, their lips barely even catching each others.

matt kissed all the way down her neck, stopping when he got to where her breasts were revealed in the tank top she wore. he began to suck and leave a mark at the top of her left tit, his hand reaching up and underneath her shirt to cup the right over her bra. she curled his fingers in his hair, pushing the brunette boy further into her chest.

“can i take your shirt off?” he asked addilyn, looking up at her through hooded eyelids, his once blue eyes now getting darker with lust. she nodded slowly, gaping downwards at the boy. “use your words, addy, tell me it’s okay.”

“i-it’s okay, please take it off.” she told the boy, holding his face and meeting his gaze.

he leaned up slightly, gifting her pink cheek with a soft peck. “tell me if you want to stop at any point, okay?”

“okay.” she whispered.

he instantly was yanking the tank top off of her body, throwing it behind him onto his floor and he attacked her tits with his mouth, his quick contrast in attitude turning her on even more. he kissed and licked all around the valley of her breasts where it was exposed from the white lace of her bra, leaving soft kisses in the wake of the purple marks he left all across her chest. his one arm was wrapped around her waist as his head stayed buried in the girl’s chest, his other arm reaching around her to play with the clasp of her bra. the girl impatiently moaned, moving her arm behind her to take it off for matt. he pulled away for a second, admiring the girl beneath him. addilyn looked up at him, suddenly feeling insecure.

“you’re so fucking pretty addilyn” he breathed, tossing her bra to the side as he took her right nipple into his mouth, sucking gently while his hand reached up to massage her left. she moaned loudly, holding the brunette boy closer to her chest as she felt his tongue flick across the sensitive bud. he did this repedealty, sucking and licking her one tit until he brought his attention to the other, giving it the same treatment.

the girl grew more and more restless, wanting nothing more than to just feel matt inside of her. she groped at his hoodie while he was leaving a hickey underneath her boob, signaling she wanted it off. he laughed to himself at her actions, lifting his head from her so she could take off both his sweatshirt and t-shirt at the same time. the two took a moment to pause, looking at each other intently, both of their chests bare and heaving. “matt i need you, please.” addilyn murmured, her voice laced with desire.

“i know, baby, i do too.” the brunette boy moaned out, grinding his hips down on her, the friction driving him insane as he buried his face into her neck, sucking a dark bruise into her skin. his hands reached down, toying with the hem of her washed out jeans. “can i take these off of you, beautiful?”

“yes, just do something please,” addilyn sighed, running her nails up and down matt’s bare back, scratching at it slightly. he nodded, moving up from her neck as he swiftly removed her pants, the girl reaching up to fiddle with his belt to do the same. matt, also growing just as needy as her, reached down to help addilyn undo his belt and take his jeans off too, leaving the both of them almost fully naked.

upon the removal of his jeans, matt met addilyn with an aggressive kiss, rubbing his clothed dick to her soaked underwear. they both moaned at the new feeling of only a thin piece of fabric separating them, both moving their hips against one another’s. addilyn felt matt slip his hand down beneath her panties, teasingly playing with her clit, rubbing it in soft circles with his thumb. “that feel good, pretty girl?”

unable to talk, addilyn only nodded as she gasped, feeling matt’s fingers move down to her folds, running them lightly across the entrance, before inserting the middle one and curling it up. “fuck, matt” she panted, her eyes rolling back in pleasure, “don’t stop please.”

“trust me, adds, i wont.” the brunette hair boy replied, adding another finger as he thrusted them in and out of her, looking down at the mess of the girl he’s made. “you’re doing so good for me.” she only moaned in response, feeling her stomach grow tighter as her face contorted.

right before she was about to release, she felt matt suddenly pull out, opening her eyes as she watched him suck on his fingers that were drenched in her arousal. her jaw slack, she reached up to trifle with his boxers, dipping her fingers beneath the band and running them along the tip of his dick.

“please matt,” she began, her voice hoarse, “fuck me.”

that was enough for matt to tear her underwear off of her, ripping it slightly as it was discarded into the messy pile of clothes on the floor next to them. he leaned over her, opening his bedside drawer to search for a condom as he felt the girl sucking and biting at his neck. he met her lips to messily make out with her for a moment, before pulling his boxers down, his erection springing free. he felt her soft fingers wrap around his dick, pumping it as he dropped his head into her neck, moaning. impatient, she snatched the condom wrapper from him, tearing it open with her teeth as she grabbed his cock to slide the rubber on.

“that was really hot,” the boy laughed, stroking his dick that was poking into the girl’s stomach, moving it to line up at her entrance. he looked up to her eyes, his facial expression changing to more serious. “tell me if i hurt you at all, okay?” he told her, stroking her inner thigh lightly with his hand.

she shuddered at his touch, replying with a meek “okay.”

“you ready?” matt asked, taking his hand from her thigh and moving it to her hip to hold her. she gave him a small nod, quietly saying yes before he began pushing in.

her face scrunched up as she felt him insert his dick, gasping at the new sensation. “matt,” she breathed, her voice undeniably having a discomforting undertone.

“i know, pretty, i know.” he soothed her, running his hand along her hipbone and tracing soft patterns on it, pausing for a moment before pushing in any deeper. “tell me when i can go again.”

she took a deep breath, reaching for his hand that was playing at her waist, grabbing it tightly. “go ahead.”

matt nodded, continuing to push deeper and deeper until he bottomed out, feeling addilyn squeeze his hand. “tell me when to move.” he groaned, peppering her face with light kisses as he tried to distract her from the pain. she grabbed his jaw, pulling his lips to hers, whispering a soft you can go into the kiss as he began to thrust in and out of her as slowly as he could, trying not to hurt her. he kept on kissing all around her face, diverting her from the uncomfortable feeling as best he could, until she brought his mouth back hers as she moaned, the once pain subsiding to pleasure. her hands tangled in his hair and his around her waist, the two messily kissed one another as matt continuously fucked her, the two finding a rhythm as they rocked their hips back and forth together.

“faster, please,” she begged, her mouth still against his as he simply groaned in response, snapping his hips up into her at a quickened pace. trying to focus on something other than cumming right away, matt pressed hard kisses to her lips, each one growing sloppier, their tongues hastily moving around each other.

“addy,” he whispered in between the kisses, “i’m so sorry-” he was cut off by a long kiss from addilyn, her arms tightening around his neck and she ran her tongue along his lips, catching some of his teeth as he opened his mouth. “i’m so sorry i was mean to you.”

“i forgive you,” she told him, pulling the boy down into her boobs as he began to kiss and leave marks, moving his hand down to play with her clit as he kept up his pace of thrusting. “fuck.”

between the stimulation from her clit, matt’s dick ramming inside her, and him sucking at her tits, she was absolutely spent. “matt” she whined, trying to let him know she was close, unable to form coherent sentences.

“i know, beautiful, let go for me.” he groaned into her tits, rubbing her hands up and down her sides as she came all over his dick, a loud moan escaping her lips. he continued to fuck addilyn through her orgasm, his hips sputtering and bucking against hers as he came too, whimpering slightly at the sensitivity. she breathed heavily, holding the boy against her breasts while he pressed light kisses to them. he looked up at her, stroking her chin as he watched the her regain her breath. “you okay, adds?”

she nodded rapidly, closing her eyes for a moment. “yeah.” she breathed. matt smiled, planting a quick kiss on her jaw as he pulled away from her embrace, pulling out and cleaning her up quickly with a tissue, discarding of the condom. he returned after a second, moving so he could hold addilyn against his chest , resting his head atop hers and their legs tangled together.

she looked up matt, smiling widely as she pressed a loving kiss to his lips. he smiled at the feeling, tilting her chin up as he held her face gently in his hand. “matt?” she breathed, pulling away for a second, “can i tell you something?”

“yeah,” he muttered, brining his mouth back to hers.

“i never hated you, not even in the beginning.”

matt broke apart from her, looking at the girl in his bed with wide eyes. his hand stayed on her face, rubbing his thumb across her lip gently, examining every little detail of her face. his gaze flicked between her two eyes, then down to her smiling lips, before pulling her in for another sweet kiss.

“me either.”

the end

࿐୨୧

© mattscoquette | taglist

𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬. ⋆˚꩜｡ first off thank u sm for 340 followers 😭😭😭 i love each and every single person who’s ever came across my account thank u sm for taking time to read my stuff. also thank u to everyone who’s shown love to this series!!!! i loved writing it so much im so sad it’s over now :( i plan to do another series at some point so stay tuned for that! i hope u all enjoy the final part <3333 i love u all sm! 💕💕

[juneknight]

•.Be Lost.• 1

Chapter 1 | Chapter 1.5 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 2.5

Summary: after a series of failures to find a dominant, your long time best friend Marc offers to give topping you a shot.

About this: Marc Spector/f!reader, mentions of kink, dominance and submission, kneeling, orgasm control

Immersivity: reader is a non-physically described cisgender woman. She works with animals and spends months out of the year in a place where it is cold—but this is the extent of her description. If there are other details which need mentioned because they hinder your immersive experience, please feel free to point them out.

*

“Give up. Give In. in the end It would be better to surrender before you begin. be lost. Be lost—And then you will not care if you are ever found.”—Victoria Schwab

*

Marc sends the message one night after the two of you have hung up from a lengthy venting session about your latest dating failures. A simple, without context: 

You could do better

I know, you type back, squinting at the screen of your phone in the darkness. Outside, the wind howls—another snowstorm which you hope will either amount to nothing or be bad enough that you won’t have to traverse the icy roads to work in the morning. You roll onto your side, adjusting the pillow beneath you. You’re covered nose to toes beneath the coverlet and still shivering, but Marc always has a way of making you feel warm. That’s why I told that guy off, isn’t it? I know I can do better. 

You watch as he types, no hesitation: 

You could do me

*

In the morning, you text him with one hand, spooning Cheerios into your mouth with the other. 

What, are you offering? There. You’re giving him an out. His message had confused you, left you spending half the night awake wondering about its context. You could do me. You could do me. You could do me? However he had meant it, you knew you had to offer him an easy way out. A fire escape. Maybe one of those seats on the plane that are right by the emergency exits. There’s a parachute beneath your seat, Marc, you think to yourself, drinking the remnants of milk from your bowl. Take it. 

Yes. Give me a chance to help you feel better

Your face flushes. God, how embarrassing is it that Marc knows how bad you need fucked? Not just that—Marc knows how bad you need submitted. That was the caveat of having him as a best friend: he was more likely to listen than to speak, and as such, you told him everything. All your struggles with the kink scene up here in your little frozen section of the States. All the things every guy before him had done wrong…

You aren’t into that stuff, you text back. 

And at the end of your work day, toes frozen in your boots, cheeks dry and chapped from the wind, you finally pull out your phone to see his response: 

Says who?

*

I’m at a disadvantage here, you type to him while cooking dinner. The tiny kitchen of the sublet you rent during the winter months smells of pesto. You’re just glad it’s warm, wiggling your bare toes by the heat of the stove. You know all my kinks, I don’t know yours. 

Marc sends a voice chat. It’s just over a minute long. Your heart is in your throat while your finger hovers over the play button. God, what the fuck could he be saying? Is he listing them all out for you, in alphabetical order or something? It will be the first time you’ve heard his voice since his text (“You could do me”, the phrase haunted your dreams now). 

Pressing the button, you quickly hold the phone up to your ear. There’s no one else in the sublet with you, but you still imagine that his words will be scandalous enough to curl the nails in the floorboards. 

There is rustling—Marc’s voice in the background, bright and laughing and calling out to someone, and then obviously speaking lowly into the phone to you: “You know what my kink is? Three years ago when I tried to take you hiking on that backpacking-for-beginners trail and got us lost, you remember? We spent half the fucking day—literally six hours or something—finding our way out, and after we did, I felt so bad I took you out to dinner. We didn’t even go home first, we were so hungry. We went to that fancy Italian place in town, both of us smelling like sweat and covered in dirt and at least ten pounds lighter from all the energy we burned out there in the woods, and when the waiter finally set that plate of food in front of you, you took a bite and you made this sound, this sound like you’d been dying of thirst but now you were lapping water right out of God’s palm. It was pleasure, and, and relief all in one—hearing you make that noise, and getting you to make it over and over again? That’s my kink. Do with that what you will.”

The voice message ends.

You drop your pesto spoon in the pot of boiling noodles. 

*

You call him that night. You have to. 

You and Marc have been friends for years, meeting in your early days of adulthood. It had been a fast friendship, both of you complimenting each other well. Marc was so easy to love, it had only made sense that you’d fallen in love with him. He was handsome and gentle and sometimes scathing and often hilarious. The only thing standing between him and a long term relationship was what Marc considered his ‘baggage’: the terrible abuse he had suffered as a boy, and the ramifications of it which he was still actively working to overcome after all these years. Marc didn’t think himself fit for marriage or even long-term dating. It was a shame for all the single women out there. 

A blessing for you, though.��

“Is this weird?” you ask as soon as he picks up the phone. “I don’t want things to be weird, Marc.” 

“You spent half your day FaceTiming a horse,” says Marc dryly. “I don’t think your life can get any weirder.” 

It was true—you had had to walk out to the barn three separate times today through the sleet to let an owner FaceTime with her horse who was sick and under your care. It had felt a little strange, being the third wheel in that conversation, but you understood her anxiety. 

“I just—Marc, I don’t want to lose you. As a friend.” 

You hear the phone shift as he shuffles it from one ear to another. He says: “The only way you could lose me would be if you told me to get lost. So can we figure this out?”

“Are you even attracted to me?” Maybe it’s desperate, but you’ve asked it. Marc has always taken efforts to compliment your appearance (resulting in heart palpitations all afternoon for yourself), but he’s never explicitly said that he finds you attractive. 

On the other end, Marc lets out a breath which sounds a little like a laugh. Or a sigh? “Yes. Are you attracted to me?” 

Marc clearly has never looked in a mirror as long as he has been alive. Tan skin that turns golden in the right lighting, dark curls that you wouldn’t mind trying to manage with your fingers, brown eyes that hint at the color of whiskey, a jaw to die for…

You clear your throat. “I mean—sure.” 

“Sure.” You can hear his smile on the other end. It makes you want to die, just a little. 

“Kind of.” 

“Understandable.” 

“You’re passable.”

“I’ll take it.” 

*

One time, he texts while you brush your teeth. And if I’m no good at it, you can keep going to all those kink clubs up in the arctic circle 

And if you are good at it? you wonder, because Marc has never been bad at anything in his life. Because ever since he suggested it, it’s all you’ve been able to think about, the feelings that you’ve had for Marc surging forward from the dusty shelf in the back of your brain where you had stored them all these years. Marc could just give you a look and you’re pretty sure it would melt you. There’s no way he’s going to be bad at topping you. 

Then I’ll take care of you

Yes. Yes, melting already. You spit in the sink and rinse.

*

“Tell me again how it went with this last guy,” Marc says during your next phonecall. The two of you call each other every other night religiously when you are away (“up in the arctic circle” as he would say) for the coldest three months of the year. His voice is warm and low, quiet. 

Even though you have already told him once, it is different now, isn’t it? The thought of relaying again everything that happened makes your face heat, makes you tug the blankets over your head until it is dark all around you. 

“Do I have to?” you wonder. 

“Do I have to make you?” he wonders back, voice lowering a fraction.

Your heart stutters. Your breaths begin to come at a faster rate. 

“No,” you say, breathy and obviously on the verge of being devastated. “I’ll tell—we met on fetlife. He seemed nice and his picture was cute. Our interests lined up, so we met up at one of the clubs in town, but even though our interests had matched up on paper, we weren’t, like, meshing in real life. 

“Like—,” you have to pause to clear your throat, voice dropping down low enough to almost be considered a whisper. God, you couldn’t believe you were telling Marc this again. “He…he called me a slut. I had marked that I wasn’t into degradation like that, but I think he thought it was an exception.” 

“Why did he think that?” Marc asks. You’ve heard it said before that a lawyer never asks a witness a question that they don’t already know the answer to. In this moment, it seems like Marc is the same way. 

“Because he called me his slut,” you admit. “He thought that would like, negate…I don’t know.” 

“Are you?” Marc asks. “A slut, I mean.” 

It rolls off your tongue before you can stop it: “Not his.” 

There comes a breathy little exhale from Marc’s end of the line. It couldn’t be you—not when you’re holding your breath, eyes wide at your own audacity, at the mere suggestion that you would be okay being Marc’s slut, but not this stranger’s. Marc’s voice rasps from the other end: “I know, honey. I know.

“Tell me what happened next.” 

*

I’ve been thinking, you text the next morning (which is true, there is a single moment spent outside of work that you aren’t spent thinking about this). Maybe this is where I’m going wrong with every guy, but—maybe we should practice. On the phone, you know? 

Over text? he asks. 

Sure, you say, aiming for nonchalant. 

I want to hear your voice, he texts, effectively ruining any hope you had for nonchalance. It’s the last thing you want though. You’re terrified that hearing Marc’s voice croon such dangerous, sinful things to you will destroy you. You will be irrevocably changed. There will be the Before Marc times and the After Marc times.

Compromise? Start like this, and if we’re clicking, then we can do it over call. 

It, he teases. Can you say it? Can you tell me what you want? 

Jesus, Marc. You know what I want. 

Use your words. 

You whine, an honest-to-God audible whine beneath your blankets. He’s already slipping into the role so well. Or is he? Is he truly made to be dominant, some prodigious Dom, or are you simply made to melt at everything he does? But it also brings to light the question: what do you want? 

Can I think about it? 

Always, he says. 

*

It takes time for you to gather your thoughts. Everything to think about the fact that this is Marc you’re talking about, your brain gets fuzzy and you lose your words. Finally, you devote yourself to writing it out longhand and thinking in general terms. What would you have wanted from Mr. My-Slut if he had asked you the same question? 

When you’re finished, you text it to him before you can second guess yourself. 

I want to feel owned. I want to feel small but safe. I want to feel consumed, like nothing else matters but you and what you do to me and what I do for you. I want my head to feel empty of anything that isn’t good for me or doesn’t feel good. 

You bury your face in your pillow, but aren’t even there long enough to suffocate before your phone buzzes with a reply. 

I can do that. 

*

For a while, you don’t text Marc. You even miss one of your ritualistic calls. The thought of speaking to him when he knows what you want from a Dom is too much. Before, it had been easy to brush off your kinks to him. So much about wanting to be submitted had become akin to pop culture. Yeah, I want someone to tie me up and spank me and call me a slut, tee-hee! 

It had always gone so much deeper for you, and for so many others, you could imagine. You were a hard worker even as a child. You became someone that people could rely on—and too often, they did. It only made sense that you would crave a way to be useful to someone, crave a way to shut your mind off. Crave a way to feel loved. 

You throw yourself into your work, marking off days on a calendar. The first day of March, you will drive south back to the city. Back to Marc. Your contract here will be up, until next winter. God, you can’t wait to see him again. He always meets you outside the door to your building, chewing gum and pacing, like he’s nervous. Though only God knows what he would have to be nervous about. 

Marc doesn’t text or call you either. He must have picked up on the vibes. Instead, he gives you space. 

The next time you are due for your nightly vent sessions, Marc calls you. If you are worried you’ll get a talking to (or at least questions: why you hadn’t called, whether or not you were mad at him or other absurdities), you don’t get one. You slip back into the warm easiness that is your friendship, swapping stories about your days, talking about current events. Sometimes you don’t say anything, just sit in silence knowing the other person is there or listen to the quiet sounds of the other doing some mundane task: folding laundry, pouring a glass of water. 

You exchange your customary ‘Love you’s at the end of the call, but the words reverberate in your throat. You love him. You really do. 

*

Okay, show me what you got. 

? 

Come on, you know what I mean. I’m ready. Let me have it. 

Oh is that how this goes? 

You blink at the question. …yeah?

I don’t think so, he texts. You know how to ask for something you want. 

Your heart leaps to your throat. Thumbs shaking a little, you ask: How’s that? 

You say please. 

You take a deep, soothing breath. Please? 

That’s the word, yeah. Then he sends the thumb’s up emoji—monster. 

Marc, I’m ready. Can we try, please? Your nerves are shot, stomach in your throat as you wait for a response. As soon as you see him start typing, you lose your nerve and turn off your phone screen. It’s like a horror movie. You can’t watch. When he finally sends a response and you open it, your mouth drops. 

You can do better than that, can’t you? And a moment later: Beg me.

Fuck you, you text, laughing brightly at his audacity. 

Not with that attitude, he types. I only fuck good girls. 

“Jesus, Marc,” you mutter to yourself, breaths coming fast and short. How can he just say stuff like that? Single sentences that are hotter than any of the dirty talk men have given you during sex over the years. For a while, you are torn on what to answer. You want to quip, to say something bratty and whitty that will make him give one of his quiet exhales of laughter, the kind you are so familiar with hearing from the other end of your sofa while you both scroll through your phones. But, deep down—

What if I’m not a good girl? Maybe he’ll consider it just mindless sexy talk. Yeah, I’m not a good girl, I’m a bad girl. Maybe you’ve even said something like this before to one of those other guys. You can almost hear in some generic male voice the response: yeah, you’re such a bad girl. 

Which is why Marc’s answer is so striking: She’s in there. Do I need to help you? 

You have no idea what it could mean, but your fingers answer without any hesitation: Yes please

And your phone rings. 

You answer it. Holding the phone to your ear, you become aware of how you are holding your breath, not letting a single word or sound pass through your lips. 

On the other end, you can hear Marc’s steady, soft breathing. 

“You there, baby?” 

You hum in affirmation, but it comes out as a choked whine that makes your face turn hot. 

“You’re going to have to use your words,” he warns. “But I’ll help you. Alright? The only thing I need you to do is this: if I say something that isn’t true, don’t say it. Otherwise, just repeat after me. Can you do that?” 

“Uh-huh.”

“Good girl,” he says, voice dipping into a silky, pleased octave from his side of the phone. Your thighs clench together. Holy fuck. He’s going to destroy you. “Here we go: Marc Spector.”

“Marc Spector,” you sigh shakily. Easy enough. 

“I trust you.”

“I trust you.”

“I trust you so-o much.”

You snort. “I trust you so-o-o much.”

“That I trust you to know what I need.” Mouth dry, you repeat the words. He adds: “And I trust you to be able to give it to me.”

“Marc,” you whisper, though you don’t know why. 

“I love the way you sound when you say my name,” Marc admits to you. “Especially when you sound half-wrecked, and I’m five hundred miles away, not even able to touch you. But I need you to be a good girl and follow my directions. Repeat after me, or say nothing. Can you do that? Say, Yes.”

“Yes.”

“Good girl,” he says again. “I don’t know how anyone could mistake you for anything else. Now keep repeating, okay?: I trust you to be able to give me what I need.” 

“I trust you to be able to give me what I need,” you repeat. As you say it, the words strike you in the chest. They’re true. You really do. All the people in the world, and maybe you love Marc more than any of them. And he is the sort of man who keeps his word—always. 

“And I want it.”

“I want it,” you breathe. 

“Real bad, Marc.” 

“Really bad, Marc.” 

“Are you in bed?”

“Are you in—wait—“ Marc laughs. “Yes? I’m—“

“I want you to get out of bed and get on your knees,” he says—just casually. Oh, lovely evening, now get down on your knees for me. Like being on your knees for Marc wasn’t on your mind constantly these days. 

Without higher thought, you throw the blanket off, the cold air chilling your body. Sitting up, you let your legs dangle off the edge of the bed, holding the phone to your ear with your shoulder. Your socked-toes skim the floor. 

“What’s it matter if I go down there?” you whisper. “I’m in a different state. It’s not as if you can see me.”

“It matters to me,” he says. “If it’s too cold, put down a blanket. I don’t want you to hurt yourself. Go on.” 

You don’t bother with the blanket, appreciating the chilly floors against your bare knees and shins. You sit on your heels, thighs squeezed tightly together. 

“What if I just lie?” you wonder. “Say I did it, but I’m still under the covers.” 

“You wouldn’t do that. Are you down there?”

“Uh-huh.” 

“Fuck. ‘What does it matter’, as if I need to see you. Like I can’t picture you clear as day in my head. Like it doesn’t mean more to me to know you’re on your knees a hundred-hundred miles away, just because I told you to.” Marc sounds strangely wrecked, and the knowledge that this menial action really has affected him so deeply has your shoulders going lax, bowing over to rest the top half of your frame against the soft mattress. Your cunt aches. 

“Marc,” you whine. 

“Yes?”

“Please,” you groan, turning to muffle your face into the mattress. Your further words are just inarticulate mumbles. He laughs, soft and warm. 

“Spread your knees apart,” he says. “Far apart, as wide as you can.” 

It is the last thing you want to do, but you do it. The brief sparks of pleasure that lit you up every time you clenched your thighs together are gone now, the cool air brushing against your heated sex through your underwear. It only emphasizes how much you ache, how little you’ve been satisfying yourself lately because every time your hand dips between your legs, Marc comes to mind, and you’re too flustered to give in and rub one out thinking of him. But oh god, that’s going to change. You can tell. 

“Are you wet right now?” he wonders lowly. 

You make a sound that is the vaguest affirmation you can give. 

He exhales, the sound shaky through the speaker. “You’re so fucking good. I don’t know how you could ever think otherwise. Absolutely perfect. That’s how I know you’re going to be good and follow this next rule of mine.” 

“Wha’s that?” you slur, head fuzzy where it rests against your sheets.

“You can touch yourself as often as you like,” he says, making your face burn hot again. “Use those toys I know you have—but absolutely no one else. Not in person, not over the phone. If we do this, you rely on me and I do the same for you. Deal?”

“Deal,” you sigh, relieved that his condition goes both ways. You aren’t necessarily strict on monogamy, but you are strict on devotion. The last thing you could ever do would be to go behind your partner’s back—and it’s something that could be liable to shatter your heart if it happened to you. 

“Glad we’re on the same page,” he says. “But this next part is just as important okay, so make sure you’re listening, yeah?” 

“I’m listenin’.” 

“If you want to cum, you get permission from me, first.”

[darkmasterofdragons]

So something very odd happened recently in regards to my and my fiancé's application for home care assistance that's left me with many question marks above my head.

My fiancé and I are both disabled and currently on basic welfare and while discussing our limitations with our case worker he suggested we apply for the home care assistance program through welfare to help us keep up with day to day tasks.

We were thrilled to find out this would be covered at no cost to us due to our low income and the application process has been lengthy but otherwise unremarkable. Both of us had to fill out individual applications that took 7+ hours EACH to fill and we provided a metric fuck ton of details, especially mine, I basically wrote out my entire life story explaining how and when my disabilities started and how and when they started to be too much to bear on my own. I explained in great detail all the physical and mental health struggles I have that prevent me from taking proper care of myself and my home.

All is well and good we send over our applications, my fiancés mental health social worker reviewed the applications and clarified a few details, no problem.

Then we got a call from the home assistance organizer and she asked if she could come do a home visit, for what we assumed would be an assessment of the current state of the home and to see where we needed help the most. We had no issue with this and scheduled the date. But when she arrived she didn't do any sort of assessment and only stood at the door and asked us questions about our application. We found this odd considering she could have just spoken to us over the phone about it and a lot of the questions she had were answered in the application already, but otherwise the home visit was also unremarkable, from my perspective anyway.

My fiancé however picked up on energy from the worker that I didn't because while we're both autistic, I'm the type who can't even look in the direction of someone new upon first meeting, and he's the type who stares into the souls of everyone he meets and hyperanalyzes their every move from the very first moment. I also hyperanalyze and pick up on people's energies very well but only after I have met them a few times and gotten past the stage of not being able to even look in the direction they're standing lmao.

My fiancé noted to me afterwards that she seemed hesitant/confused as to why I was explaining so much about my issues and she seemed to almost be doubting what I was saying to her about my disabilities and initially I brushed this off as him potentially misreading cues, until he saw his social worker yesterday. His mental health social worker mentioned off-hand that he's been fighting for both of us (he's so nice and he's an amazing advocate for his patients) to get us approved because for whatever reason, despite me writing out a like 5 page essay detailing all the ways my mental and physical disabilities affect my day to day life, they seemed to be under the impression that I was not even disabled and they didn't understand why we were applying because "Why doesnt he just take care of his fiancé?"

I was floored when he told me this, there was no indication at any point anywhere that my issues were even less severe than his, let alone non-existent. We both submitted individual applications for home care for our disabilities as recommended by our welfare social worker. And they also know additionally that both of us are actively applying for welfare and CPP disability. But for whatever reason, they just thought I was having a cheeky little laugh on my application?? Doing some creative writing or something?? I really don't know but I'm grateful for our social workers for being on our sides, and I am not discouraged whatsoever, only more determined. Still mega frustrating and just confusing as hell though that they somehow thought I was just like fine??? And could take care of everything myself?? The mental gymnastics they had to do to somehow think I was not disabled based on my application is almost impressive! Almost 😐

[leejenowrld]

What DOES Jeno get out of submitting to y/n?

And the same question for her?

If they’re both used to being the ones in charge in life, in their worlds, during sex - why does this control slip when it comes to each other?

jeno is always in control. on the court, in the gym, when people are watching him move through the world like a figure cut from discipline. it’s not just a role he plays, it’s who he’s been raised to be the perfect son, team captain, golden boy with a grip on everything that could possibly slip. he has sex the same way he plays basketball. strategic, physical, in charge of the rhythm. he knows exactly how to ruin someone and how to leave them wanting more. with most people, it’s transactional. enjoyable, but controlled. even when he’s giving, it’s still on his terms. but y/n doesn’t play by those rules. she doesn’t perform submission like a reward for his dominance. she seizes the moment, shifts the weight, puts her fingers on his throat not to tease but to test. and it wrecks him in a way he can’t hide.

he’s sitting on the edge of her bed, his joggers still tangled around his knees, cock already hard and leaking from the way she dragged his name out of his mouth five minutes ago. she stands between his legs wearing nothing but his shirt, the hem brushing the tops of her thighs, one eyebrow arched as she palms his jaw and says, “you don’t get to touch me yet. not until you say it.” he stiffens beneath her hand, pride twitching. she waits. and when he finally breaks, whispering, “please, i need you,” she rewards him with nothing more than a kiss to his cheek and the command to lie back and keep his hands on the headboard. it’s not humiliation. it’s reverence. she strips him of the performance and touches him like he’s something sacred. he doesn’t have to lead, doesn’t have to anticipate, doesn’t have to fix anything. all he has to do is feel. and he does. every second of it. every breath, every slow stroke of her tongue down his stomach, every quiet good boy she hums against the underside of his cock before sliding him into her mouth. he submits because he knows she’s not going to break him. she’s going to show him how it feels to survive pleasure, not just give it.

and for y/n, submission was never about trust until it was jeno. she doesn’t hand over power easily. her body is hers, sharp and sure and always on alert. she has spent years learning how to control her own responses, how to master timing, how to analyse even desire down to the bones of it. she’s been with people who expected her to yield just because they took the lead. people who thought dominance was about volume, about pace, about knowing nothing but taking everything. but jeno does not dominate to win. he does it to understand. when he touches her, it’s not to provoke. it’s to listen. he studies the stutter of her breath, the arch of her spine, the shift in how she grips the sheets. he treats her pleasure like it’s a code he’s willing to spend hours unlocking. and when she finally lets him lead, it’s not because she’s giving in. it’s because he’s earned it.

her body is stretched over his desk, her knees barely bent, panties pushed to the side, thighs trembling from the second orgasm he pulled out of her with nothing but his fingers and patience. he’s behind her, one hand gripping her hip tight enough to bruise, the other pressed flat between her shoulder blades, holding her there like a question. he murmurs against her spine, “i told you not to run. you don’t get to hide from me.” and she doesn’t want to. not like this. not when his voice is velvet and steel and his cock slides in like it belongs there, like it knows her already. she moans, raw and open, not from the stretch but from the feeling of being known. he takes control without making her disappear. he holds her down not to overpower her but to keep her anchored. and when he presses his mouth to her ear and says, “you’re going to let me ruin you for anyone else,” she gasps like it’s worship. because in that moment, it is.

they don’t switch roles for fun. they do it because it’s the only time either of them can breathe. when y/n pulls jeno onto his knees, makes him open his mouth and take her fingers down his throat while she rides his thigh, she watches him unravel in a way he doesn’t allow anyone else to see. when jeno flips her over mid-argument, pins her wrists above her head and says, “if you want to be in control, you better take it back,” she doesn’t argue. she moans. because he’s not stealing her power, he’s handing her a choice. it’s never about who leads. it’s about why. about how much they need to be undone by someone who won’t use it against them. about how the safest place in the world is under each other’s control.

[blueberrypancakesworld]

Commandments of submission

Samuel Lafferty x wife!reader

warning : smutish, power imbalance, mishandling of faith, sexism, hypocracie, bitting, dom/sub dynamix, no use of Y/n, I'm using the concept from the show and not the real faith, it is for entertainment only

Summary : Now that his brother was the leader, Sam and his brothers could do whatever they wanted on the farm. And on a free weekend with just his wife, he's the man of the house and it's time he reminded his wife how disobedient it is to stray from the right path and the shameful consequences it has had.

info : What is this? a fic about Sammuel after months, well i was in the right mood for this hot thing here, enjoy reading ;)

masterlist ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ God created Adam, a man in the pure paradise of the Garden of Eden, Adam's eyes beheld a world full of peace, food and life. A story of gratitude to God and being content with what you have.

But also a story of sin committed with blood, love and temptation after Eve was created from his rib. A beautiful woman, a kind woman, his wife.

Adam's wife who owed him her life, a woman who was there for Adam with her beauty and grace, entertaining him physically and spiritually.

The thought that the serpent wooed her with the apple and the perversion of her head to come closer not out of self-interest but out of love of her own free choice could not be.

With the bite of freedom into the apple, Eve had chosen her way out of the clutches of her husband and into a life with the devil, who loved her more than her God.

For such courage to break out of the clutches of everything she knew, she was banished into the world where she was alone and the devil could take care of her, for good or ill.

Adam, the first man who had lost his oh so beloved Eve, had already wrapped his hands around another woman again created by him why have only one wife when he could have as many wives as he wanted. Because the wife had to submit to her husband…a commandment that has prevailed to this day.

Samuel didn't know any different, since he was born he had been given everything he wanted as a boy and then as a man, or at least he had been taught that as long as there was a cock between his legs and he wasn't a woman, everything would be in his favour. Whether it was his priority at work, his pay or his family.

A family that he wanted for himself-no, that he wanted to create himself, because like Adam, he would create his own wife, marry her and the children that would result would be the greatest gift he could give back to God.

A goal he achieved when he met his wife at one of the town fairs where his family not only enjoyed respect as money donors but also had access to everything and everyone.

He saw her there, his age, a young woman watching the spectacle and quite by chance a member of his community with a father who had connections to wealthy mines, not only was she pretty, she also brought something to his marriage when he made her his for only a few months, she was his and he wouldn't have wanted it any other way.

Every time he looked at her, there was satisfaction in his blue eyes that she was his, his ‘Eva’, his immaculate, lovely one.

A marriage that celebrated her pregnancy only a few months after it was consummated, with each passing month she became a statue in her own right, an object of fertility and beauty at his command.

,,You can do this on your own, can't you darling? I know I can rely on my wife" he always put her off during the months, resigning himself to the idea of her learning, the sooner she realised that he wasn't helping her, that the tasks were separate and that he wouldn't touch the household.

It had taken until the second child for her to understand that her destiny was the children and his goodwill…whether she was in the mood or not.

From the first moment he had taken her virginity, her pretty uncertain look as hers clung to him, as she wrapped her legs around him when he told her to do so, to the day they were together and the power dynamic of the family changed, her family changed too.

He seemed to have become addicted to that moment when she looked at him so helplessly, this dumb pretty woman who belonged to him could only turn to him.

It was a feeling of unrestricted power and he was addicted to it.

The love they shared seemed to get rougher, for every mistake she made his gaze seemed all the more punishing, his hand all the rougher and his words all the more damning inside her. Even his kisses seemed to become more possessive with every day he was away from her or otherwise.

All until his family announced they were leaving for a weekend away for a meeting with the federation. After a brief heartfelt farewell to the children, the adults felt the change in their own hearts as they saw the apologetic look on Diana's face as she hurriedly put the last child in the car and pulled her sister-in-law into a hug before hastily getting in.

Samuels hand, which had been gently gripping hers before, tightened around hers, ,,I told you to be cheerful, it'll be your fault if she calls and asks," he hissed warningly at her and they both smiled after the cars until they had driven off the property and Sam was finally alone with his wife.

The brief sound of a slap on her ass pierced the quiet of the expansive property, ,,Make me my dinner wife we have a lot to celebrate tonight" he told her and she nodded hastily, her gaze automatically going to the ground as he suddenly grabbed her.

Blue eyes demanded something, respect of the herachie in the house and she gave a ,,Yes…sir’ a title not just as master of the house, an address from her master now that she was at his mercy.

The tantalising look he gave her passed searchingly over her body and glanced for a moment at the purposely undone button of her dress before releasing her and watching her walk into the house as he himself walked across "his" land. As the front door closed, the walls seemed to take on eyes.

Even if his gaze did not pass through the walls of the house, she felt her husband's gaze on her from the moment she went into the bedroom and took the box from the wardrobe hidden under blankets and pillows.

With a shaky breath she left the door of the room ajar, a crack had to remain open for him as she opened the lid and looked at the black lingerie with stockings. It had been a gift from her husband, initially as a joke, but she quickly realised how much the sight excited him, the contrast between chastity and perversity.

She undid the buttons of her flowered dress and the fabric slid to the floor as she slowly pulled herself out of her clothes, shaky fingers taking the bra and underwear off last and her naked body folding the clothes on the bed.

She didn't have to look up to see that the door had opened slightly wider, didn't have to look up to see the bright blue eyes that were now seeing every inch of her exposed body and didn't have to look up to see the stroke across the middle of his body as she pulled on the lingerie.

The black lacy fabric clung to her body like the first day, tighter than the dress and blouse she owned. The last thing in the box was the black stiletto heels, the pointed thin heel obscenely like a false cross on the floor as she slipped into them.

It was like a lace of shame as she closed the box and looked at her body in the mirror for a moment, the thought of finding such a thing attractive in the knowledge that it was normal, even human, seemed to give her little comfort as she made her way out of the room as Sam's footsteps disappeared-but not his gaze.

Saying goodbye and packing had taken time, time that didn't allow for lunch, so she knew he wanted something bigger for dinner.

She was glad that half of the week's shopping was still there, enough for a good steak with wine sauce, freshly harvested vegetables and a small cake with chocolate glaze, a meal that was only served on birthdays or other special days, if at all.

But it was a meal he liked, he enjoyed the tender, bloody meat and when she heard his soft, satisfied exhalation after a bite of steak, she relaxed.

The large kitchen, which was actually meant for just a few people, was not only her place, her real place as he always said, but also a place where she could think freely. As much as he watched her, she knew that he was usually outside or in the cellar while she was making food and cleaning up.

After just a few minutes, the pots and pans gave off a full-bodied odour that spread through the kitchen and into the living room where the food would be cooked later, her hands deftly making time where she could during the brief minutes of cooking, tidying away the children's toys and wiping away a little dirt and dust.

The meat was kept warm, the vegetables were steaming well, she would simply reheat the small cakes, the sauce was still missing.

The sauce from the body of Christ, the blood, the deep red that she poured into a small pot and added the spice, she held the dark false one in her hand, the symbol of the apple hanging from the black tree, the irony of the story behind it.

Her gaze flitting around the kitchen she listened to the silence but only heard the rustling from downstairs as he went through the papers and talk of his brothers Please…just let everything be alright today she prayed before putting the bottle to her lips for a long sip before she hurriedly continued cooking, the guilt in her struggling with her conscience.

Before she finally finished just before eight and put the food on the table, her heels making a tocking sound as she walked to the cellar door and knocked with a final deep inhale and exhale, ,,Dinner is ready sir," it slipped from her tongue, the words heavy yet familiar. Too familiar for her to memorise and too new for her not to be ashamed.

It was a moment before she heard the familiar footsteps coming up the stairs, the wooden cellar door opened and she saw an appraising look, ,,It smells appetising, good," he said with a brief nod of recognition before he sat down at the dining table and she hurriedly served him the food.

Saw how he had brought up another bottle of wine from the cellar, an older one, a noble drop as her father-in-law always called such a thing, ,,His blood as a reward for your domestic gifts" Samuel said after a few minutes of eating, looking at her as she sat on a chair diagonally opposite him, taking only a small portion of the food herself so as not to fall into the sin of gluttony.

,,Thank the lord and you sir” she said as she put her wine glass over to him and looked at the dark red liquid collecting in the glass. Enough to get her drunk at least, because when the eyes of the family were gone you could do whatever you wanted.

She mostly sat still, her hand folded on her scoop, occasionally lifting her gaze to see if he had finished his meal to get the next one, ,,A real treat for the mouth and the eye," he said as she fetched him the little chocolate cake, but his look meant her.

As much as these feelings of love, hate, fear and excitement were in her, she couldn't deny that praise like this honoured her, you could almost forget the uncomfortable tightness of the clothes.

The white icing sugar was like snow on the cake as the silver fork slid in and he took a bite, the sigh of pleasure making her relax, ,,Here, try it, it's delicious," Sam said, holding out a bite.

Savoury chocolate, with a hint of the sweetness of sugar forbidden sweet as in the eternal garden, ,,Good," he praised as the fork was placed on the plate and he leaned forward slightly from his chair, stroking his hand over her cheek, delighting in her softness, the devoted look, the sweet lips as he engaged her in a kiss.

Samuels other hand cool, making her shudder as he ran it over the extravagantly revealing clothes, the little skin that was covered was like a gift to him, he would take every little bit of fabric from her until she lay before him just as naked as she was then.

His hand gesture a simple sign signalled her to rise and he pointed to the dining table, her gaze briefly showing hesitation, a place to gather and eat, a place of ‘cleanliness’ with something so dirty.

But his hand gripping her wrist and pushing in that direction knew he wanted it that way, ,,Sit down" he indicated and she sat down on the edge of the table, thinking she should lie down, but as he ran his fingers gently over her face her eyelids closed in another smile that she complied with.

She heard him push a chair aside, the slight rustle of clothes and she flinched as she felt his cool fingers on her ankles, her hasty exhale as she had to put all her vertareun into him, ,,Move too much and instead of my wife you'll be little more than a servant, understand?" her husband asked and she didn't have to look down to see the cool eyes of how serious he was.

Her ‘mistakes’ over the last few weeks had been corrected by her and him, eating had probably changed his mind again for a reward but in the blink of an eye he could change emotionally, ,,Yes sir I understand…thank you" she replied, keeping her hand steady beside her trying not to nervously play with the lingerie while the silence in the house seemed like a time bomb.

Her unsteady breathing met his savouring as he kissed her ankle, the tip of his nose wandered up her legs, lips kissed tender flesh and she suppressed a whimper as he lifted her leg to bite her thigh.

His flesh, created by him, he would taste pleasure as he ripped into her skin and the blood of the saint flowed through her, ‘Stimulating’ he murmured as he ran his fingers over the tooth mark, carved into her skin, wanting to bury himself in her.

Samuel went further up and she suppressed the reflex to rub her thighs together, not wanting more than her due, she was a wife not a whore.

She thought she could see his fucking grin as he stopped just short of her centre and ran a finger over it, ‘You're practising patience, almost chastity, only a whore would get wet. Tell me, is there one?’ he asked.

His wife knew it was a test, that he wanted her to open her eyes and disobey his instructions, ,,No sir…I'm not a whore, I'm yours and no one else's, my lust serves you…not me" she replied keeping her eyes closed and trying not to answer too hastily not to show him how aroused she was, how excited her heart was.

The right answer.

Because a single ‘good girl’ came from him and he continued to play the game on the table until of course she lost, until he had her kneeling in front of him begging to be nothing more than a lusty, lust-induced something so he could have the feeling of power.

A game for him and the reality for her that continued in the bedroom, with every bite, every lick of her wounds, every laugh and further demand he tightened his net around her as every other piece of her body was released to him.

And as she felt him, her husband, the man she belonged to and felt him against her, the thought matured in her that fought with her conscience in lust.

Maybe it wasn't so bad to belong to a man after all.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

@starry-eyed-wild-child , @angelsanarchy , @bonesgirl11 , @loljustignoreth4t , @fallin444niya , @escuellascupid , @unforgettable444 , @707otto , @kristennero-wallacewellsver

[leftclown]

So now I'm gonna move on and actually describe an experience I have had as a trans man who is currently detransitioned due to financial status. This experience involves both misogyny and transphobia, and I'm not really here to debate weather or not I Can experience these things, instead I'm just going to share it.

So I guess somewhat important context to this is that I am rather feminine by appearence. If you encountered me in the wild you'd think I was the hoodie and cookie monster pajama girl from high school. My partner, also not currently receiving gender affirming care passes a bit better than me. He at the very least gives people pause or incites confusion. Usually, though, people just assume he's a young man.

I was going to get a state ID because I had moved recently to another state. My ID from my previous state had my gender marked as M because I went through the due process to get that done. New home state has a policy that if youre from out of state you have to get your ID processed at the police station. My partner is also trans and had gone a week prior to get his done, and they had respected his ID's gender marker, moving all of his information from the out of state record.

I go in and of course I am marked F, so upon reviewing it I said thats incorrect, because my ID says M. We go back and forth and I eventually produce my partner's ID and say "you did it for him just last week". Big mistake on my part because I'm honestly still learning how not to give people like this the benefit of the doubt. Regardless, they go to their manager to figure out what to do.

A few minutes later I am called alone into the managers office. Here's a shortlist of this meeting;

-Thet confiscated my partners ID without him present

-Told me my due process didn't matter, that I can only change it if I had a letter saying I had already had SRS.

-Took my previous ID and voided it so I couldn't change my birth certificate

-Made me submit my ID as F

-Tell me my partner has to come in to correct his to F as well

This all happens very quickly, and I try to advocate for myself and lose. By the end of it, I am crying a bit and I mutter to myself "This is fucking insane".

This is the part that really fucked me up.

The manager stepped forward toward me, holding her hands in that defensive position, the one cops to do say 'I'm calm but prepared to use force', you know where they tilt their hips forward and rest their hands on the front of their belt. She tells me "I understand you're upset, but there is no swearing in here."

I am a nearly 30 year old MAN. And she is trying to tell me not to swear like I'm some teenager giving her lip.

"I'm not from here, this is just how I talk" I say, not yet realizing that she is trying to instigate. She prods this issue again, trying to detract me, trying to get me to cuss more. Trying to rile me up. I become quiet and still, thank them for their time and leave. She called me Sweetheart as I left.

And there is nothing I can do in this situation. Im dealing with cops in a red state. There's nothing I can do but cave to the authority because my plans are bigger than this. Because to further advocate is to put myself in danger and she made that very clear by drawing a line at me swearing. So I submit.

Submitting in a situation like this feels like your power is being taken from you. Like they are physically removing something from your arms and trying to get it back would be a major risk. It's not just that someone is stepping on me, it's that theyre telling me politely to get on the ground so I can be stepped on. It felt especially oppressive in this scenario, but it always feels like this. In the workplace, in social group, in family, a trans man is the least respectable thing you can be because not only are you a woman, but you're a crazy, damaged woman and if you're me you get ire for being a waste of a pretty face.

There's always a timeline too, it can be long or short but it always goes like this; People receive me initially with feigned tolerance and some mild comparisons to my partner's masculinity. Then they start poking and pushing and trying to see if I'm really a trans man in ways they think is subtle but to me is very unsubtle. Eventually, when they've disrespected me to the point of reacting emotionally, they act like they've gotten their gotcha moment because I've displayed the Ultimate Thing that makes you Not A Man: Tears. Most of them don't even need to get to there to conclude I'm a trender because well if I'm already almost 30 and haven't transitioned, I must not want it bad enough.

I'm sharing this story not just because it displays the intersections of being a trans man, how hard it is to obtain respect and how fragile that respect is, but also because I know there are guys out there who are like me. I see you, you with the puffy lips and round hips, you who can't transition right now, you who feels like he's waiting for a some day, for a time when it's just okay to exist out there and be treated with the basic fucking dignity of telling someone "Hi, I'm Dave" and having them reply without looking at your tits first. Who has beat himself up in the quiet hours for years for being too emotional, too feminine, feeling assaulted by the way the world wants to commodify your body and demonize your mind. You deserve to be seen and respected.

[thefloatingwriter]

I feel like i submit a lot of asks so I apologise but oh my god do you have any more beetee and wiress thoughts individually or as a couple idm id be blessed with anything. I've never met someone who is also passionate about them and it makes me SO HAPPY

absolutely never apologize for sending me asks, especially if they’re about beetee and wiress. seriously they make me physically ill i’m so obsessed with them. honestly i just appreciate that i've found other people who are also insane about them!! send me as many asks as you want, i will always answer and i love you for them 💗💗

okay if you really want to hear me yap you should go to this post, which is basically every single thought i have ever had about district Three and all of its inhabitants. i am also working on my D3 tribute list, which is taking a lot of time and work since it’s really depressing to have to work on it but i’m working on it! <3

Beetee:

all of my beetee hcs and thoughts (well, most of them) will be compiled in my fic about him. but i’m sure i can think of some more without spoiling everything…

he really liked superheroes when he was younger. he thought that the idea of someone whose sole purpose in life was to save people was really cool.

he tends to hyper-focus on things when he’s stressed, agitated, or trying not to think about something.

his aunt on his mother’s side and uncle on his dad’s side both went into the hunger games, the 16th and the 14th respectively.

his hair can get really long during the off season or when he’s not in the Capitol. his prep team always has a heart attack over the “state he let his hair come to” as if he had let a bird lay eggs in it or something.

in relation to that: adeline sometimes braids it when she needs something to do with her hands.

in terms of victors, he was preceded by Paris Sanford of One and succeeded by Stella Fairchild of Four.

he’s particularly close with Paris (see this post!) honestly, their relationship is really important to the general plot of… everything basically.

Wiress:

she was considered a knife expert in Three, especially with throwing knives, due to it being an activity she performed at her mother’s circus. for obvious reasons, it helped her a lot in the games.

she got a training score of nine. the only reasons she wasn’t immediately chased by careers was because of the girl from seven’s training score of ten.

she has insanely long hair, like almost hitting the top of her thighs long. she had to crudely use a knife to chop most of it off during her first games, but she grew it back out after she won.

her district partner was her ex-boyfriend who had cheated on her. she refused to shake his hand when their escort told them to since she “didn’t know where his hand had been”.

she’s either dressed extremely regally with gowns and expensive jewelry and heels or she looks like she just rolled out of bed. there’s absolutely no in between.

she’s addicted to shitty capitol reality tv.

she’s preceded by Zircon (“Conner”) Lewis from One and succeeded by Wattson Amott from Five.

Beetee and Wiress:

the most important thing to remember about beetee and wiress’ relationship is that they started as the strangest situationship in the history of mankind.

half of the victors are also convinced they have never left this stage of their relationship, but a lot of the younger victors are like convinced that the two are just really good friends and haskell is just like ??? no???? it’s common knowledge that they’ve been fucking for like two decades?????

but anyways… wiress couldn’t sleep after her victory and for some reason beetee was the only person who made her feel safe enough to fall asleep for more than half an hour so they both started sleeping in the same house, same room, same bed… before they were even close to the romantic stage of their relationship.

wiress catches feelings because… well, it’s wiress. but beetee is completely emotionally repressed (we love that for him) so he just pretends he doesn’t notice.

beetee has a lot of trouble accepting love from anyone, and it takes him a few years before he gets used to the thought of anyone being in love with him. and, of course, it’s even more complicated in practice…

basically it takes them like nine years for beetee to finally be like “hey… i think i’m in love with you…” and of course wiress is completely flabbergasted by this while everyone else is like “that’s been painfully obvious for at least five years where have you been??”

i mentioned on a post a few days back that their relationship is really complicated in a lot of people’s eyes and here’s why: the capitol doesn't know they’re together. like at all. i mean snow does but snow knows everything so that’s obvious. but seriously there’s a running debate with beetee fans (you can not tell me that capitol citizens don’t have favorite victors bc i’m right) over if he’s dating anyone and if he is who. and then the top answers are always either paris or wiress… so those two fanbases just absolutely despise each other. and so everyone expects wiress and paris to hate each other… honestly it’s just a convoluted mess lol.

wiress wore her wedding ring during her interview for the 75th hunger games and the capitol absolutely went batshit over it. (and caesar flickerman probably lost like twenty years on his lifespan that night too lol).

then beetee follows her, talks about how the quell should be examined for legality for about five seconds, then just starts yapping about how amazing his wife is and caesar is just sitting there like 🪑😶.

thank you so much for the ask!! seriously never hesitate to come rant in my inbox, i love receiving asks especially if they’re about these weird scientists in love 💗💗

[pedroacrossthestreet]

The Last of Us - Series 1, Episode 8

When We Are in Need

"It's okay, baby girl. I got you..."

From the beginning, it's clear that David sees himself as God. He talks of people losing faith after the ceremony, not in religion but in himself.

Ellie and Joel are as much in need as David and his following. She rations the remainder of their food supply between them before venturing out on her own to hunt. Previously, the chance to use Joel's gun would have been thrilling to her, but now it's a tool. A means to an end.

She exhales before she pulls the trigger, just like Joel taught her too. She can't believe that she's been successful.

Ellie is smart enough to pretend she is also from a larger group, although it's difficult to imagine such a situation where they would send a young girl out to hunt for them. She gives her vulnerability away, however, by jumping to demand medicine in exchange for the deer.

David explains that he has people who relies on him, but that it wasn't his choice to become their leader. He sees himself as a provider, but only so long as people obey him and treat his word as gospel. He provides for his people in a similar way to how FEDRA ruled the QZs, he doesn't do it because it's what he was made to do, he does it because he craves the power and control it gives him.

Interestingly, David uses the word "flock" the describe his followers. He is their shepherd. Once again the imagery of vulnerable animals is used, but it is in contrast to how Joel described wanting to be a sheep rancher.

As soon as Ellie indulges David, lets him prove to her how everything happens for a reason, that's when he reveals his cards. He knows who Ellie is, and that she was traveling with Joel, the man who murdered one of his followers. He makes it clear to her that he has the upper hand, warning her of James's presence, showing her some mercy in an attempt to scare her into submitting to him.

The way Joel leans his head against Ellie's even though he is delirious, showing that he's subconsciously relying on her as much as he is physically.

David happily performs his role of provider, dragging the dead dear into the dining hall as a visual to everyone in order to strengthen their faith in him. It is at this point that the audience realises that the "venison" from the kitchen moments earlier couldn't possibly have been the dear that he has just brought back and that the meat everyone is feasting on is probably human.

David rules through fear, with an iron fist. He wants his flock to see him as a father figure, both religiously and paternally. He manufactures this for himself by creating his own cult, something that Joel never had to do because he just is a father.

Not the horsey 🥺

David purposefully tells Ellie that the others want to kill her but he's the one who is fighting to keep them from doing so. He reiterates it when she doesn't respond because he doesn't get the submission that he craves. He further tries to play on Ellie's fears of being alone in this world, tries to reinforce that it's impossible for her to survive on her own. He wants her to feel like she's incapable of that in order for her to devote herself to his will.

Joel uses the same tactic with the map that he used with the older couple previously. But now that Ellie is in danger, and he is without her, he uses his brute force to the maximum.

David tries to appeal to Ellie by telling her she's a leader, something that the FEDRA soldier told her. He places himself and her on the same level, flatters her by saying that he needs an equal. It's clear that David took the outbreak as an opportunity to fulfil his desires of complete control, and he believes that Ellie is so disenfranchised with being downtrodden that she also craves the same things he does. He compares himself to cordyceps, says that together he and Ellie could grow and spread out as a service to their people. But Ellie knows that cordyceps aren't human, and she knows that David is inhuman.

She bides her time, waits for David to believe that he is the one in control, before revealing that she has the upper hand by using his trust to break his finger.

Even though she has hurt him and defied him, David still won't be the one to take responsibility for her demise. He warns her that he's going to tell the others, let them satisfy their blood lust so that he doesn't have to do the dirty work.

David can't stand the fact that Ellie is immune, hates that she is the one who is special. He has had to work hard to get the level of misplaced respect that he has, had to shout about how good he is in orders for others to listen.

The fear Joel must've felt, seeing Ellie covered in blood, unable to do anything but hold her. She becomes his baby girl in that instant, and there is no turning back for the pair of them.

[lightlycareless]

First, it hurts— Chapter XL

Naoya Zen’in x Fem!Reader

While arranged marriages are not uncommon in the jujutsu community, it was strange to receive a proposal from none other than the Zen’in’s, nonetheless your clan accepted and before you knew it, you were married off to Naoya.

Your new purpose was clear: to serve and submit, to be seen and not heard. To forget any sense of individuality in favor of obeying your husband.

Will this marriage ever flourish into something else? Will it change…for better or for worse?

Chapter warnings: omg this is the spooky edition.

A/N: None heheheheh. but I am going on a break!! Thank you so much for all the support!! ❤️❤️❤️ See you around!!!

Now, without any further ado, happy reading! 🥰

Masterlist ➸ Chapter 41

Ao3 link.

You were yet to begin the day, but you could already feel as if there was an eerie calmness engulfing the estate. A silence so abundant, it almost felt like you could hear what was happening on the other side of the estate if you were attentive enough…

A sensation that also seemed to extend to the staff, given the lack of footsteps heard outside your room, rushing from one side of the living quarters to the other while tending the masters. It is as if they’ve already tended to all their duties for the day, and now, had nothing but free time for themselves.

You remember the moment where you thought it impossible for the Zen’in estate to have a calm day, especially since you were the most controversial figure there, yet, here you are, admiring what is a day without much, if any, commotion.

Naturally, you wonder what could’ve happened to have such stillness, and if it was something you’d be able to use in your favor now that you’re feeling a bit better. That rough patch of sickness sure got you quite the disadvantage, both physically and emotionally, so you could certainly use a day off.

“How… calm” You’d tell Mariya while closely watching her take out your attire for the day: something warm to fight the rising winter, but adequate enough to not make you feel overcrowded. “It’s… kind of eerie.”

“Fits with the day, doesn’t it?” she says with a smile.

“The day…?” you blink—what made today so special?

“Halloween, of course” Mariya responds “The 31st of October, Saturday in fact. The end of the week.”

Oh.

How could you have forgotten that, especially after being constantly reminded of it?

But most importantly…

Has it really been that long since your wedding?

It was ironic to even say that, since you’ve always considered that time at the Zen’in estate felt like an eternity. But now, it’s been months since you’ve last seen your family, friends, and freedom—yet they remain in your mind vividly as ever.

Given the date they’re probably already working, eased into their stations as they prepared to watch over the night.

As every year, you assumed, Ren would’ve told you that he’d rather stay home watching horror movies or go out to the city and make the best of this western celebration instead of working; while Hinata thought the complete opposite, wanting to go to work because she gets to see curses that don’t come out that often, or perhaps even new ones. Always the workaholic, your sister.

And you, on the other hand… well, you just wanted to go out anywhere, really. After years and years of seclusion, you were itching to see the world and uncover all its mysteries.

But you suppose that staying inside will be good too, not that it was your decision to make, but at least you’ll have company this time.

“Oh, right” you eventually respond. “Wow, I didn't think it was today already.”

“Time flies, doesn’t it? Especially if you’re busy.” Mariya sighs. Something in her tone tells you she’s been wanting to take a break for a while now, but that is not meant to happen so easily for the prime lady-in-waiting.

“Then you’re already centuries ahead” You chuckle, she agrees with a laugh of her own. “All I’ve been doing is sleep and stay in my room… so I’m more than ready to do literally anything else for a change.”

“I’m sorry to disappoint you, Y/N. But it seems I won’t be able to help you this time” Mariya says, placing your clothes on the bed. “Since everybody is out of the estate for work, most of the staff doesn’t have duties to do, outside of cleaning I suppose… but what is there to clean if there is no one dirtying it?”

You nod along, she makes a whole lot of sense now that she puts it that way.

“Must be the favorite day for the staff, hm?”

“It’s relaxing, I can admit that.” Mariya adds “We can essentially do whatever we want without being constantly watched… kind of, there’s still the staff of the master’s to worry about, but as long as we don’t look like we’re relaxing too much, we should be fine.”

“Do you celebrate Halloween?”

“Not really, I mean, I would just go down to the village market and see whatever seasonal stuff they have—but even then, I don’t usually buy much” Mariya reminisces, last year, there was a particular vendor who sold a wide collection of impressive masks, proclaimed to be hand-painted by himself, ranging from silly, moderately adorable, to straight up terrifying.

Certainly, the man had talent for his craft, and it made Mariya wonder if he’ll be there this year again, maybe she should go down there and buy one just to support him.

And the year before that, the villagers set up a small puppet theater to tell horror stories, nothing too scary, just something to entertain those who wished to indulge in the seasonal ambience. It was mostly, if not completely, family oriented. Mariya found herself listening to one or two stories whenever she could.

While the people of the Zen’in clan thought these days tedious, others considered it a day of leisure—truly, two sides of the same coin.

“But outside of that, I just spend my time here. It’s essentially an extra day off so I just use it to call my family, or hang out with Tatsuro” She adds “What about you? Do sorcerers celebrate Halloween or is it just for work?”

“A bit of both” you respond.

“Shibuya?”

“Oh, no—I have never been one to enjoy that kind of environment.” you chuckle “It can get too chaotic, though I did dress up when I was younger…”

“No way!” Mariya gasps, a grin parting her lips as she tries to imagine the kind of costume your younger self would’ve worn. “At least tell me there's pictures!”

“Too many! My dad would make my mom take pictures of us all the time” you giggle, a whole… dozens of albums were probably made thanks to his bottomless need of “capturing the moment”, and that quantity was probably per child .

Thankfully your mother knew just how to control his obsession, taking out the pictures she considered less than flattering, and putting the rest into a sensible amount of… 5 albums. A far more normal amount to have instead of the thousands of before.

“We’d do it every year, but there is one I remember the most—I think I dressed up as some kind of… ghost, or something? And my sister was a cat…”

“And your brother?”

“Someone… from a girl group” you quietly say “Don’t ask.”

“I won’t—seemed like fun anyways.” she smiles. “By the way, now that I don’t have any suggestions, is there something you’d like to do instead?”

“Oh, I don’t know, I don’t want to intrude on your free day”

“Ah, you’re not intruding at all… I’m all caught up with what I have to do anyways, and Tatsuro wanted the day for his friends so, it’s just us, Haruko, Hitomi… and who knows, if Junko-san is lenient enough, maybe even the twins?”

Your face immediately lightens at the thought of seeing Mai and Maki again. God knows how long it had been since you last saw them, wanting to thank them for the lovely letter they gave you during the beginning of your sickness—a reunion was definitely long overdue.

But before you could even think of anything else, your stomach in its usual starving fashion, begins to grumble, making you blush out of embarrassment, Mariya chuckling out of humor.

“I’ll think about it after breakfast” you join her laughter soon after. “I’m starving!”

Seems that you weren't the only one with that sentiment of wanting to see the other, for as soon as you enter the dining hall, you’re tackled by your favorite twins, Mai and Maki, followed by their cheerful greetings, expressing how much they missed you and been wanting to see you, and just couldn't wait to spend their day alongside you… 

But then, their stern mother comes in, ordering them to release you and behave, for that is no way to treat the lady of the house, before looking up to you and giving you a scolding of your own.

“You ought to stay in bed until a doctor deems you healthy!” Junko says, carefully pulling away the kids from you, but the girls didn’t follow, their small grip still tight on your clothes. “You’re going to get everyone sick!”

“Junko-san, Y/N has been feeling much better since a few days ago” Mariya intervenes, having gone ahead to the kitchen to get your food, setting it next to what she assumed to be Mai and Maki’s seat. “Besides, who is left to get sick? It’s just us here at this point, and neither of us got sick.”

Junko doesn’t like how silly Mariya has become with her responses, albeit occasionally, mostly when you're around, giving her the impression that this is fsu,t of your influence…

But as foolish as her answer was, she was right, besides, Mariya wouldn't allow you out of your bedroom unless she deemed it appropriate. If there's one thing she can't deny, is her commitment to the job.

At this point, all that Junko can do is hope that your behavior doesn’t rub off on her daughters, which she's subtly caught these past few days… they’re relentless on their own, that much she can say.

"Don't cough near my daughters at least" Junko gives a final warning before retreating back to the table and continuing eating.

"Of course not, Junko-san" you reassure her. The last thing you'd want is get them sick too. Oh, how elated you were to know you were the only one sick.

After that was set, you guide the girls back to the table, sitting in between the two, giving a small prayer of gratitude for the meal, and beginning to eat breakfast.

“I wasn’t expecting to see the two of you here” you say before the first bite, them mimicking you soon after. “Don’t have much to do on this day?”

“They do” Junko intervenes before they’re able to respond “They have homework and chores to complete around the house.”

“Chores?” you ask, looking at her with disbelief. “What can they possibly have to do on Halloween?”

“Halloween?” Mai ponders “What’s Halloween?”

You gasp, Junko frowns.

“ No —Don’t tell me they don’t know what Halloween is, Junko-san!”

“They don’t need to know that” she says, “That is a western celebration, nothing my children need to know.”

“But it’s fun!” you retort playfully “You get to eat candy, dress up—”

“Or eat pumpkin!!” Haruko suddenly appears out of thin air, alongside her sister, who was helping her carry the humongous big orange pumpkin over to the table, dropping it with a loud thud that makes everyone flinch. "Whoops, sorry—but it's impressive, right? Can you believe I got it at the market?" 

“How… did you manage to find that?” Junko is the first to respond, completely hypnotized and, well, startled by the pumpkin, enough to forget scolding her, for she had never, ever seen one of its size, less be carried by someone as scrawny as Haruko or Hitomi… seems like a situation out of a dream, so she needs to be pulled back to reality.

“Let’s say I have a rather amicable relationship with a farmer… might have exchanged some goods for it too…” Haruko murmurs, Junko raises an eyebrow. “But that doesn’t matter! What matters now is that I have this huge pumpkin to literally do anything I want! But I’m also accepting suggestions.”

“We can eat it, like you said.” Mariya reiterates. “Or carve it, although it seems like a waste for something as big as that. I’d rather have Haruko prepare us something instead, I already know it’ll be tasty, right, Hitomi?”

The seamstress looks at her for a brief second, before glancing away, not even answering.

Right.

The two have yet to make up.

… Well, Mariya still hopes she’ll join the group for whatever they end up doing that day.

“Seems like the court is leaning more into eating it…” Wanting to stop the rising awkwardness between the two, Haruko sways the conversation back to her. “So.. I’ll leave it to the twins! What do you two want to do, eat or carve?”

“Eat!” the two respond in unison.

“No, you will not!” Junko interjects.

“Huh???” Haruko groans “Why are you so against them having fun?!”

“...They can have fun without eating junk food” She retorts “They are not intertwined”

“Don’t you think you’re being a bit too harsh on them?” You ask “It’s just for one day, and the food that Haruko makes is very delicious, it's a once in a lifetime experience they can’t miss!”

“I won’t be questioned by you regarding my parenting” Junko frowns. “What is done, is done. And my word is final.”

“Ah, Junko-san…” Mariya laments when he sees the round face of the girls scrunch in disappointment. They were looking forward to spending their whole day with you, or at least part of it… only for their mother to tell them it was not going to happen.

And not only that, but she was also cutting them off from things they have never experienced in their life; something as silly as celebrating Halloween couldn’t possibly do them harm… but if she already made up her mind, there really is nothing else that she could do—

“…Fine” Junko would relent eventually, not really out of her own volition, but she guesses that just as the rest of the estate is doing, they too deserve a break. To partake in a celebration, while she never understood nor liked, alongside people that actually want to spend time with them.

It’ll be a nice change of pace for the three, Mai and Maki will be rightfully distracted, and she… Well, she’ll be able to have some time for herself. Much needed time for herself.

“But they will not eat sugar, they will not go to forbidden areas, whatever you’ll do it’ll be with the utmost respect of the rest that stayed behind, and they will absolutely not go to sleep past their curfew” Junko begins to list her conditions, with such fastness that made the whole group think she intended to give them permission to be with you from the very beginning, just wanted to make you work for it.

Either way, neither will deny how elated they were that the twins will be able to stay under your care, and for the whole day it seems considering the last requirement. Because of this, the girls literally gobbled down the rest of their food, excited to start with the next activity.

“Thank you, Junko-san” you say, giving her a smile “I promise to take great care of your girls!”

Junko doesn’t say much outside of a hum, or a frown when Haruko teases “We’ll save you a piece!” before picking up her plate and exiting the hall, seemingly to take her meal in a more silent area, getting to enjoy that she won’t have to tend to her obnoxious, picky husband for the day.

Once away, the new leader of the group, Haruko , turns to see the rest of the group with a wide grin on her face.

“Who’s ready to bake some pumpkin pie?!” She hypes, the twins jumping on their spot, joining her wave of excitement.

“We are!!”

“Then let’s go!!” Haruko cheers “I will lead you through the wonderful adventure that cooking a pie is!!”

“—ok so… maybe I shouldn't have bought that big of a pumpkin." Few hours later, and a ridiculous amount of pumpkin pies, Haruko rightfully concludes, alongside noting that she could essentially open a store with how many she made…

"I told you… but you always like to go to the extremes don't you?" Hitomi sighs, shaking her head "We truly don't need a dozen pies—we can't possibly eat all of them"

"Not that I was planning on doing that… but yes, this is too much. What am I going to do?!" Haruko cries.

"I mean, we can save it for another day" Mariya suggests "Or give it to some of the staff members, I'm sure at least one of them will appreciate it"

"Why not sell it?" Maki asks "That way you can get your money back"

"Ah, quite the businesswoman there, aren't you?" Haruko chuckles, Maki blushes. "But I wouldn't sell it, I mean, I didn't spend any money for it…"

"How'd you get it, then?" It's your turn to ask, for there's no way anyone would give away for free the humongous pumpkin she got, it was like a gold mine!

"It was a favor, I did something for the farmer and the farmer did something for me—that's all." Haruko admits. "Nothing special, really"

"Something tells me you're not telling the truth" You tease with a smirk "Come on, tell me, what did you do to get it?"

"Ah, nice try Y/N, but I'm not going to tell you my secrets!" She shakes her head "It'll be something that I take to the grave"

“Sounds awful a lot like a boyfriend to me…” you murmur, Haruko gasps.

“Shut up!!” she blushes “That is not true! Whatever Y/N says is not true!!”

"Alright, alright" you chuckle, as if Haruko didn’t make herself a more of an obvious target, but whatever. "I'll find out sooner or later though" 

"I wouldn't bet on it" Haruko shoots back "There's just some things you don't know about me… Anyways! Who’s ready for some pie?"

"Let me help you with the plates" You quickly offer, but she rejects you.

"Don't worry about it, I have it all under control! How about… you help me with something else?”

"Sure, what's up?"

"Let's say… while we eat some pie…how about we tell some horror stories, eh? Ghosts and that kind of stuff" Haruko eagerly suggests, making Hitomi roll her eyes, Mariya and you chuckle, and the twins… Well, one of them didn't like the idea, the other couldn't be any more enthusiastic.

“I don’t know…” Mai eventually speaks up, making you look at her with concern. 

“You don’t like scary stuff?” You ask, and she nods. The poor girl had never been a fan of the frightening, so the idea does not allure her, not one bit, this may be due to the fact that out of the two she’s the only one who gets to see curses, and they're not known for being easy on the eyes.

This is where Maki would step in, reassuring her that as long as she ignored them, nothing would happen. Easier said than done, of course, but Maki’s confidence always managed to inspire Mai, she just knew what to do or say to comfort her.

“It’s just stories, Mai” Maki would say. “They can’t harm you.”

“But they’re real…”

“Are they?” Hitomi would ask you, their go-to myth debunker when it comes to these things.

“Um, some of them” you respond honestly, only to regret it immediately after seeing Mai’s frowning face. “I mean—it’s just like Maki-chan said, they’re just stories, things that people make up to have fun.”

“Like the one about Hanako-san!” Haruko jumps in, trying to lift the mood… although how do you do that by bringing in a somewhat scary activity? 

“Hanako-san…?” Mai repeats.

“The one about the toilet?” Maki asks.

“Exactly—it’s quite silly if you think about it” Haruko continues “You’re supposed to call her name in a bathroom stall, knock on the door 3 times and wait for a response…”

“I remember doing something like that when I was younger” Mariya confesses “I went with a group of friends to see if we’d be able to see the ghost, but of course, nothing ever happened, outside of a girl screaming because someone had turned off the lights”

“Were you the one screaming?” You tease, she chuckles.

“Ah! Obviously not, Y/N!” she scoffs, feigning to be offended—and your interaction with her manages to ease Mai a bit, realizing there could be some fun behind the fright. “Who do you think I am?”

“Oh, nothing—you just told me everything” you shrug, she chuckles and you return to the twins. “Have you two heard of the legend of Hanako-san?”

“A bit”

“No.”

Thus, the first story of the day unfolds.

“I want to tell it!” Haruko cheers “But let me serve some slices first”

Haruko could’ve given Gojo a run for his money with the speed she manages to take out the plates, cut the pie and hand each and everyone present a slice. 

But before they start to eat, the group ends up choosing to move into a more comfortable setting, such as the room Mariya suggested, one that is rarely used, but still has a warm kotatsu , and is secluded enough to not be bothered by any unwanted interruptions.

Once everyone is settled, with Haruko already done with her slice, she takes a deep breath, and begins.

“Ok, so… Imagine you’re at school, you’re bored because the classes are awful—you could literally do anything else, anything , and you’d be much better. So, you begin to talk to your classmates, wondering “What can we do to kill this boredom?” and one of them suggests… “Why don’t we talk to Hanako-san?”

You wonder, “Who is Hanako-san? Are they from another class?” but they tell you “No, it’s a girl that lives in the bathroom!” That obviously sounds so, so silly, but because you don’t want to hear Mariya-sensei go on about the same thing over and over again, you decide to check it out.’

Hanako-san doesn’t appear in just any bathroom, though. It has to be on the third floor, in the girls restroom, on the third stall. Not the fourth, or the first, and if your school doesn't have 3 stalls then you can’t do it.

Luckily, your school does have it, and once you and your friends are there, the fun begins.

Because no one else wants to do it, and technically you were the one to inspire everything, you’re the one to knock on the door. You arm yourself with all the courage you can find, take a deep breath, and knock three times before calling the girl’s name.

“Hanako-san? Are you here?”

Seconds go by, and the only thing you hear is one of your friends complaining how this was just as boring as the other things they were doing before—and you find yourself almost agreeing to it… but then, a quiet, soft voice coming from the other side of the door responds…

“Yes, I am”

It’s Hanako-san .

No one believes it, you certainly don’t, but there’s no way to prove that unless opening the door and see what’s going on, right?? So you do, you open the door and there she is, the little girl called Hanako-san! An actual ghost!!

But what do you do from there? Like, you have a ghost right in front of you!! There’s so many things you can ask her!! So many things to do!

But she doesn’t let you do any, because as soon as she sees you, she grabs you by the arm and drags you down to hell!!!”

Mai gasps, flinching by the sudden, unexpected turn of events. While Maki is… well, disappointed by the way the story ended, having hoped to get more details of the ghost itself…

“Back in my day, she’d ask for a playmate…” Mariya says. 

“You make it sound like you’re that old.” Haruko responds. “But I guess it depends on the version. There’s too many stories that talk about hell and bathrooms anyways…”

“What’s up with that?” Hitomi asks “Are people afraid of restrooms or something?”

“Oh, it’s not that per say… it’s just that restrooms, like schools, are places that most if not everybody goes to” you attempt to rationalize, inwardly laughing once realizing how similar you were to Hinata right now. You seriously doubted they wanted to know the actual reason, but it’s too late to back up now—guess you’ll have to completely take on the role of nerd for this occasion. 

“That makes sense, I guess.” Hitomi says, reminiscing on another famous urban legend consisting of a similar background. “But… Why do you have to fight for your life in the restroom? It’s like aka manto… ”

“I mean, we’ve all fought for our lives in the toilet at one point, right?” Haruko jests.

“Ewww” Mai cringed, having quickly understood what she meant. The cook just laughs.

“What is that one about?” Maki asks, eager to get her small hands on another story, the story legend of the day.

“Someone that’s supposed to appear in restrooms too, however, this one you can’t summon, it’s supposed to appear on its own” Hitomi begins to explain. “The spirit wears a red cloak, or a blue one depending on the area, and it offers you two kinds of paper, a blue one and a red one. Depending on your answer, it’s what is going to happen to you.”

“I’d pick the red one.” Maki says confidently.

“I wouldn’t pick either…” Mai murmurs.

“Mai-chan would survive, actually,” Hitomi reveals, making Maki groan.

“Why? What’s gonna happen to me??”

“You’d get—” She stops, debating whether she should tell two little girls the gruesome details of her choice… although something tells her that Maki would like to know all about it.

Perhaps another time.

“You get pulled to hell, again”

“That’s not true—” Haruko was about to protest until her sister elbowed her, letting her know to keep quiet. “I mean, who would’ve known it would lead to the same thing? Ha!”

The twins may be young, but they are not naive, and they’re quick to notice that, but before they can confront the sisters about it, Mariya steps in.

“Oh, I know one! It’s a pretty popular one, but maybe Mai and Maki haven’t heard of it!” Mariya says enthusiastically “The one about kuchisake-onna ”

“Kuchisake…onna?” Mai repeats slowly, and just as Mariya supposed, it was the first time she’d ever heard of such a character, meanwhile Maki has heard more than enough, but was eager to hear a complete retelling of the legend.

“Yes” Mariya begins “It’s the story of a woman that lurks the streets at night… whom you only get to see if alone. There’s nothing special about her, outside of her gorgeous face, which she covers under a mask. 

You may wonder, why would she hide such beauty if it’s so great?

That’s easy—it’s all because she hides a terrible secret underneath...!”

Mai’s eyes widened out of intrigue.

“What…. What is she hiding?” she quietly adds.

“A horrible, hideous smile stretching from one ear to the other!” Mariya gasps, making the youngest of the twin’s gasp as well. “ Kuchisake-onna will find you alone and ask you if you find her beautiful, if you say yes, she’ll take off her mask, revealing her true face to ask you the same thing, and if you say yes once again, she’ll cut—”

“Ugh, booooooriiiiing!!!!” Haruko groans, rolling her eyes. “You revealed the good part too quickly, and nobody likes that!”

Mai doesn’t bother to hide the fact that she’s elated Haruko interrupted Mariya from finishing the story, for out of the three, this had been the most terrifying one yet, a sigh escaping her lips soon after. Maki, however, frowns, irritated by the same reason—why wouldn’t they let her know what’s going to happen? She’s old enough to take it!

“But it’s still scary, Haruko.” Mariya responds.

“But not as scary as it should be” She counters “It’s like a joke, it’s not funny anymore if you have to explain it!”

“Well, excuse me” It was now Mariya’s turn to be irritated. “Had I known you were going to find my storytelling so dreadful , I would’ve gone somewhere else.”

“I didn’t mean it that way!” Haruko cries, caught off guard by her reaction. She didn’t think it was that… serious. “I was just saying—”

“No, you said enough” She interjects, quickly standing up from her seat and heading towards the door. “I’ll be somewhere else, preferably where my stories will be appreciated”

“Wait, Mariya!” Haruko pleads. “Where are you going?! I didn’t mean it like that!”

But her words would fall on deaf ears, for Mariya simply continued on with her path, closing the door and leaving behind a group of speechless, concerned onlookers who wondered if this had really happened.

“Is she… angry?” Maki is the first to speak, a question that while it might appear obvious, managed to instill confusion in everyone.

“I don’t know.” you say as honestly as you could, being another of the bunch that believed that her behavior might’ve been… a bit extreme. “It’s not like her to be like that…”

“Who knows.” Hitomi quietly adds.

“What do we do now…?” Mai asks.

“There’s nothing we can do.” you suppose. “If she wants to do something else, we should let her.”

The girls press their lips together and hum—silently agreeing with your words, believing that perhaps Mariya genuinely wanted to do something else, perhaps suddenly remembered a pending task or… well, wanting to clear her mind from Haruko’s seeming imprudence. Who knows.

“Either way, I’m sure we still have other stories to go through” you try to reassure them, move the conversation away from the uncomfortable, overwhelming tension surrounding Mariya, and back to their fun activity.  “Anyone wants to volunteer for a story?”

“I don’t know if I want to…” Haruko pouts, effectively shoved away from participating.

“I have one, then” Hitomi steps in.“And this one is a real one, because it happened to my mother.”

The interest of the group pikes.

“To mom? ” Haruko asks “What… happened?”

Technically, the fourth story of the evening.

“A long time ago, she used to work in a hotel as a housekeeper. Her responsibilities were simple, she’d clean after the vacated rooms, make them presentable for whichever guest is next, or do whatever other cleaning was needed around the building.

She’d always tell me that her time there was mostly uneventful, quite boring if she was being honest, but it was a good pay and that was enough for her to stay.

However, all would change the day she was assigned the night shift—apparently the receptionist had called in sick, and mom, wanting to take on bigger responsibilities for a while now, was quick to offer herself to cover them.

Since the night is usually calm, and it was just her that shift, mom decided to go around cleaning a bit of things while something happened. Just checking if everything was in place, reading some magazines for time to pass by quickly, that kind of stuff… until the phone began to ring.

Mom wasn’t unsettled by the call in the middle of the night, for she was informed that someone might do that to check the availability of a room, usually a backpacker hoping to rest a bit before moving on with their trip…

What unsettled her was the person on the other side of the line.”

“Who was it?!” Haruko suddenly frets, slicing through her story and making her frown. The cook gets the silent message which makes her apologize immediately after.

“Anyways, as I was saying….

She responded with the customary greeting, expecting to be asked about room availability, fares and prepared for it… but instead, she was received with silence.

My mom would insist again, believing it was a problem with the phone service at first, but when there was still no response, she thought it was a prank and hung up.

She’d move on quickly after, back to whatever she was doing prior… until the phone rang again. 

It was the same procedure as before, greeting, waiting to be asked for prices… and be received with silence. Mom didn’t take much longer after that to hang up, but by the third time, she finally decided to check the caller id, find out if it was a friend of hers or something wanting to pull a prank on her…

Only to receive the most frightening realization.

It was coming from the inn, from one of the rooms… where no one was staying.

Naturally, my mother was deeply concerned and wanted to check the room, but she couldn’t just leave her post due to safety measures, so she stayed, attempting to talk to the person on the other side and tell them to stop whatever it was that they intended to do, to no avail…

She hung up once more. Wanting to believe it was nothing but a mistake, but as much as she wanted, that wouldn’t make sense—no one can use a phone unless they were physically there, right?

An hour or so would pass before she received another call, one she’d greet as any other…

But this time, when she put her ear against the phone, hearing the same white noise as before… She felt different. She felt as if the reason behind these calls weren’t to prank her, but rather… to talk to her.

She didn’t know why she did it, but once inundated with this feeling that the person on the other line desperately wanted to have a word with her, she said:

“Everything is fine. We’ll be ok. Don’t worry about me—you can rest.”

And then, the call ended, but from the other side.”

“What… happened after that?” You asked what everyone in the room wondered once Hitomi went silent.

“A few hours later my mom would come back home to the awful news that her sister, my aunt, had passed away—and just around the same time she received the last call.”

Everyone’s heart sinks.

“My mom thought it to be a coincidence at first, but after reflecting on that sentiment… Well, it made sense. She took it as my aunt trying to say goodbye one last time. And while it was a bit eerie at first, she’s now glad that she didn’t just ignore the calls and got to bid her a peaceful farewell.”

“That’s… wow . I… Well— I don’t know what to say, it’s both scary yet… sad.” you say, the twins agree.

“I know, but if it’s worth anything, mom looks back at it with fondness. I’m not going to deny that this did make me wonder if things like the afterlife and such exist—Although I’m sure I can at least say that the paranormal does, thanks to you.” Hitomi chuckles.

“I guess so” you give her a tight smile “Well, I’m glad that at least your aunt was able to pass on without regrets.”

“Me too.” Hitomi responds.

“I didn’t know this.” Haruko admits. “It must’ve been awful for mom. How long ago was that?”

“A few years before moving in with dad so… probably when she was 14, 15?” Hitomi guesses “She was pretty young when it happened.”

“Thank you for sharing this story with us.” you add.

“Thank you for listening” she responds with a smile “But I didn’t want it to be taken as something melancholic! It’s still kind of creepy, right? So let’s keep the scary stories coming—Haruko, you’re next.”

“Huh? Why me!” she gasps “I just told one, and I’m not in the mood after what happened with Mariya-san…”

“You’re the one that asked for scary stories” she frowns “You ought to know a few!”

“I want to hear some, not tell them!” She retaliates “There’s a big difference in that…”

“Ugh, I guess so…” Hitomi rolls her eyes, before looking back at you. “It’s your turn then. Y/N”

“Me?” You blink, startled. “Ah, well… I don’t really know many stories, outside of the popular ones I mean”

“Now that is a lie if I ever heard one!” Haruko scoffs “Are you going to tell me that you , a sorcerer, don't know any scary stories?! Of all of us, you’re possibly the one who had the most chance in actually seeing a ghost!”

“I mean if you put it that way…” you murmur “…Let me see…”

You had a vast variety of stories to tell, obviously, but you didn’t want to settle for something they’d consider boring or predictable— you wanted to make an impression!

But what could you say…? What kind of story could leave them in awe …?

And then, it comes to you. After a quick recollection, you eventually settle for something a bit more… different, so to speak, something that shocked you the first time you heard about it and now, had no doubt in your mind that they’d have the same reaction.

“There’s one legend that I like in particular” you eventually begin “I read about it at school, when studying curses from other countries.”

The sisters perk their ears, eyes solely focused on you—you now had their undivided attention for the fifth story of the day.

“It happened a long time ago, during the colonial era of a distant country.

You know how any song with a particular catchy tune would become popular? Enough for everyone to sing it until becoming tired of it, repeating the same cycle when the next tune comes along and so on?

Well, that’s exactly what happened back then. Nobody knows where the melody came from, only that it was a beautiful tune that everyone liked to dance along to.

The song had no lyrics at first, but its popularity would soon fix that, with someone anonymously writing them.

But don’t think they were nice lyrics to match the tune, no. The words were very explicit, more so for the very religious society that it was. It was so barbaric, that singing or dancing the song would send you to jail!

Because of this, the song's popularity eventually diminished… or so they thought. 

One day, a group of people were having a party in one of the most dangerous areas of the city. Everything was going on as normal, as expected of a party, until a horrible, terrible lament was heard from a nearby ally, just when it became midnight.

Their voice was indistinguishable, unable to figure out if it was a woman or a man speaking… only that they were singing the forbidden song.

This succession would go on for days, in the same place, at the same time, to the point where the alley began to be completely avoided.

No one dared confront them… until a group of valiant, yet drunk people, decided to do so.

They made a bet, and whoever lost would be the one going to see who the mysterious voice was. Once the loser was chosen, the group of friends told them they’d be waiting as they went on to see who the voice belonged to.

Nothing happened much at first, with even some believing the loser didn’t even go. But a few seconds later, loud yells for help were heard.

The desperation behind the voice was so chilling, that it kicked the alcohol out of their system and forced them to rush towards their friend, finding him completely unconscious in the middle of the street.  

They took him to the doctor, where he’d remain under supervision for hours, until he finally woke up.

His friends naturally asked him what happened, why did he scream for help? And so, he tells them:

At first it was difficult to see, for the alley was completely dark at that time of the night, however, upon walking deeper into the alley, they were able to make out a figure, which he presumed to be that of the mysterious voice.

He was still too far away to make out their face, but he was able to see that the figure would sway from one side of the street to the other, with such speed that it made it seem they were floating. 

He tried to take a closer step, regardless of how eerie this looked, but before he could do as much, the figure had suddenly closed in on him, enough to finally see its face!

And what he saw… oh, what he saw was horrible!

It was a disfigured face, torn apart and complete bloodied, with the socket of its eyes completely empty and a presence so overwhelming, he could only assume that he had seen none other than the devil himse—!”

Boom!

Without further precedent, the lights suddenly go off and everyone screams. With Haruko being the loudest one, letting out a blood curdling screech that would make anyone think someone was being murdered and unwittingly scaring the rest even more. Mai and Maki quickly hug you for comfort, you hug them back, and Hitomi… well, she jolts, before smacking her.

“What is wrong with you?! Calm down!” Hitomi scolds “Compose yourself! You’re scaring everyone!”

“I’m—I’m sorry!” She frets, heart already thundering and ears ringing. It takes her a few seconds to process the darkness in which they are in, as well as to disconnect it from your frightening story. “I just—that was scary!!”

“Yeah, sure. Really funny, Haruko. Now turn on the lights.” Hitomi frowns.

“What do you—What makes you think that was me?!” Haruko gasps.

“Well, who else! Anyone else here look like they can shut down the power?”

“First of all, I can’t see, second of all, how am I supposed to do that when I’m also here with you, idiot!”

“ Language ” you murmur, Haruko quietly apologizes. “But then… who was it?”

If the girls could look at each other, they would do so, yet everyone knew they were on the same page. The mystery makes everyone remain speechless, their minds galloping a thousand miles per second in attempts to figure out if this had been intentional, or just an accident.

Until the door begins to rattle.

Everyone’s eyes shot wide open, quickly swirling at the origin…

“Who’s there?” You were the first to ask, tightly holding onto the twins as they lean further into you.

Once the question flew past your lips you felt incredibly silly, for there really is no reason to be this frightened about someone standing on the other side of the door—but call it an effect of having told nothing but horror stories, you can’t help but feel like there’s something beyond it.

As if by pure coincidence, you actually summoned something.

No, of course not. Perhaps it’s your worry for the young girls that has you thinking like that, alongside Haruko’s comically scary scream, and the shock of being in complete darkness—

Or the fact that your question remains unanswered, while the door continues to rattle… 

“Go check, Hitomi” Haruko eventually urged, but even the seemingly fearless seamstress must have her weaknesses…

“What? Why me ? You do it!”

“No, you do it! Where’s the all-mighty Hitomi?!”

“Maki… I’m scared…”

You need to act fast then. Even if it’s a prank, you don’t like how the rest of your entourage is acting—it’s not even funny anymore.

So, you proceed by carefully peeling yourself from the twins, standing up from the seat and then reach for the door. 

“Y/N!” Haruko cries. “No! Careful!”

“I’ll be fine…” you tell her, before whispering “I think…”

You seek reassurance by reminding yourself that this is just another person, maybe wanting to check if everyone was alright after the power outage—wait, was it just this area, or was it the whole estate?

Either way, the tension in the air is undeniable, thick enough to make you feel as if you were sinking on the spot, trying your hardest to move but nothing would come out aside from trembles, and the sensation of your heart dropping further into your stomach the closer you got to the door.

Yet, you pushed forward, for the sake of Mai, Maki, Haruko, and Hitomi. You had to.

But just as you were a few feet away from the door, the rattling stops abruptly, and so do you.

You know the rest of the group to be pondering, fearing the same thing as you, until the noise suddenly ceases, giving all a false sense of relief, as if they managed to escape unscathed this time–only for the door to slowly slide open.

The smallest rays of light come through the slit, but not enough to reveal the culprit behind the scare… only their clawed hand, sternly gripping the edge.

By that point the whole group is tightly holding onto each other, doing silent prayers for the gods to be merciful enough so that whatever is about to happen, does so quickly and painlessly.

But it’s a hope that soon diminishes when a horrifying face peaks over the door, a devilish red skin face, a twisted darkened smirk baring long yellow fangs, two horns coming out from the top of its head, intently staring at nothing but them, it’s new prey—it’s safe to assume that a this point, everyone was beyond petrified.

You tried to move, tried to react for the sake of your survival but no noise would come out from your throat. Only a whimper when the mysterious, frightening figure took a step inside, slowly raising its arms to what you could simply assume was your end.

The one making a noise, however, would be the mysterious figure before you, taking a deep exhale before loudly yelling:

“ BOO! ”

“AAAAH!!”

It was Hitomi screaming this time,

“Happy Hallowe— what in the… what?!” The creature says with an oddly familiar voice, which upon removing what turned out to be a mask, reveals it was the previously-gone Mariya all along. 

What used to be excitement for a prank well done, was now replaced with concern, and a bit of guilt too, given the way she was stared back in pure fright, with some even harboring tears in the corners of their eyes! "What… what happened?"

“What do you mean what happened?!” Hitomi shrieked. “You’re out here scaring us after the light went off, how imprudent can you be Mariya-san?! What if we’ve just lost electricity for the rest of the day?!"

“Oh. Oh . Ah, about that…” Mariya nervously adds, scratching the back of her head. “I don’t think that’s going to be that big of an issue…”

“Why?" Haruko adds, the thought of being in complete darkness for the rest of the day doesn’t seem appetizing to her, at all .

“Let's say… I was the one that… did.. that…” Mariya explains, and the rest gasp. “I mean! It was only for a moment, and here only of course, all part of my prank.”

“Prank” Hitomi repeats “A prank ”

“Just something for Halloween! Thought it would be nice to do something a bit more fun , that’s all… didn’t expect to see you girls like this though… Well, fortunately, I have something to make up for all the sorrow I’ve put all of you through!” Mariya beams, stepping aside to reveal Tatsuro, who carried a box.

“Hey…” the man nervously greets, intimidated by the negative response from their part, as well as the tension between him, Mariya, and Hitomi. Tatsuro didn’t want to appear as affected by it, but it was hard to not crumble beneath Hitomi’s icy gaze.

“What is it?” you manage to ask once your heart calms down. Now that it was finally revealed to be nothing but a prank, you’re able to relax. Although you still worry a bit for Mai and Maki, who upon quick glance seemed to be a bit more relieved—still startled, but enough to place their interest somewhere else.

“It’s going to be a very sweet apology—that I hope will compensate for the scare” Mariya says as her hands dive into the box Tatsuro was carrying, soon taking out a few small fabric bags. “Do you have any idea of how hard it is to get these? Thankfully, Tatsuro here knew just the right person for that!”

Being the closest one, Mariya gives you the first bag.

“Here, for you” She says with a smile. 

“Thank you” You nod, soon opening the bag and grinning when seeing its contents: they were a wide variety of candies, from all kinds of well known brands, to even international ones… Mariya did seem to put a lot of effort into getting them—and for that, you’re grateful.

“This one is for Haruko” she hands another. “I tried to get you a bit more variety… but there’s only so much I could find. Still, I hope you’re able to like them”

“No way… you did this all for me?!” she breathes upon seeing the contents.

“Of course! Knew you’d like to extend your palette” Mariya then turns to the twins, who were eagerly looking at her, like children during Christmas morning.

“And I hope you two are not tired of sweets just yet, because I got you the most out of all, because kids your age should eat more sweets!” She says, the girls swiftly grabbing their respective bags, a grin on each of their faces. “But you need to promise me something”

“Anything!” Maki responds 

“Don’t tell your mom about this—she won’t be very happy with me if she figures it out. If you need to hide them, I can do that for you too” 

Mai and Maki giggle, giving her a nod as well as a unanimous “Promise!” before diving into their gifts.

And now that they were set… the only person left was Hitomi.

Mariya didn’t intend to leave her last to further isolate each other, no, of course not. No matter what happens between the two, she’ll always hold her dear in her heart.

However, she’ll have to admit that the one that got the best gift out of the 4 was her, and all because she hoped… This would finally help her obtain forgiveness.

“I… didn’t get you—I mean, I did, but it’s not the main thing” Mariya begins, hand reaching in for the box and taking a box , instead of the expected bag. By the way she holds it, you assume that the contents are heavy.

“I remember you saying how much you wanted to buy these books about patterns, I recently saw them at the market again and I thought… well, might as well get them.”

She nervously hands the box over to Hitomi, who receives it seemingly without emotion. She'd only stare at it, as if trying to remember which book she was referring to, before glancing up at her in complete silence.

Mariya begins to feel regretful, desolate at the impression that her gift had fallen from her graces and that this relationship had completely ended.

“I just want you to know that I’ll be here for you, whenever you need someone to talk to, or guidance, whether professionally or personally… I’ll always try to do my best to be there for you, because no matter what happens, you’ll always have a special place in my— oh! ”

Hitomi doesn’t let her finish before she tackles her with a hug, a gesture so quick that Mariya is initially startled by it, frozen as she tries to process what just happened, but before she could say anything, the seamstress wins her to it.

“I’m sorry.” Hitomi murmurs. “I… should’ve never acted the way I did with you. It was unprovoked and without good reason. I just allowed my feelings to get the best of—”

“No, I get it. I really do, Hitomi” Mariya says “It’s nothing, really. You don’t have to apology—”

“But it is” she interjects “Because I made you responsible for something I haven’t dealt with in my personal life. I shouldn’t have taken it out on you, and I shouldn’t have waited this long to make amends… but, I was ashamed how big I allowed this to grow that I… I just thought it was best to leave it like that.”

Mariya gives her a soft smile, hugging her back.

“I understand, and I forgive you. Not that you needed my forgiveness, because I never took offense to your actions. I was just worried, that’s all.” She goes on. “Never forget I’m someone you can trust with anything—regardless if it’s good or bad. I’m always there for you”

Hitomi smiles back, happy that this is all in the past now.

“Thank you”

“Don’t mention it—I hope you like them!” Mariya says.

“I will, there’s just one small problem… ‘ Hitomi cautions.

“Oh no, don’t tell me I got the wrong ones!”

“No, you got the right ones.. However… I already have them” she chuckles.

“What?! Ah, I should’ve known!!” Mariya laments.

“It’s fine! I can send them to my mom, maybe she’ll teach my baby sister a thing or two, continue on with the family tradition”

“Very true”And you smile, too relieved to see that the two have finally reconciled.

“By the way… where did you get that mask and… gloves?” Haruko asks. “They’re…. Super creepy”

“I know, right?! Got them at the village a while ago, they’re from the same vendor from last year. Tatsuro was the one that suggested the prank, actually. But I did the whole planning.”

“Ah, did you?” you tease.

“Guilty as charged.” Tatsuro laughs.

“Wait… so what was the whole angry thing about?” Hitomi blinks. “Are you angry, I mean?”

“Nope! I just needed the perfect excuse to put my plan in motion, and that was it! But… I apologize if I made anyone upset”

“You worried us there for a bit” You admit. “We were debating whether to follow you or not…”

“Well, I’m glad you didn’t!” Mariya chuckles “Because my surprise would’ve been ruined! But enough of that, let’s continue enjoying Halloween! I hope you’re still telling scary stories, ‘cause Tatsuro here has some pretty creepy ones!”

“How about it, Mai, Maki? Do we keep on telling scary stories?” you ask, looking at them—but they were far past the point of listening to stories, already gobbled down through their fourth candy by this point. But even when deep into their candy trance, one of them still manages to lift their face from the bag, looking at you with a chocolatey grin before declaring:

“This is the best Halloween ever!”

It was way past midnight when Naoya eventually made his return to the estate.

There’s no one to receive him at the door, except the cold, silent ambience of the night, and the only poor souls still awake during these hours, those in charge of keeping guard, who were surprised to see him this early in the day, and back already. Like always.

Naoya knew he’d be received with such a reaction, since it usually took a few days before any of the sorcerers deployed during this time to come back, either because the mission was lengthy, or because they decided to make the most of their stay wherever they were.

He was that kind of person too—he’d do his job, enjoy the city, and come back home fashionably late. 

This time, however, there’s nothing he wanted more than to come back as soon as possible. In fact, he had rushed to finish his mission —in record speed as eventually noted by others— simply because nothing from the outside world allured him, not when there’s something, or someone, far more important home.

“Welcome back, Naoya-sama” one of the staff members would say upon seeing him. It’s the most heartwarming thing he’ll get for a welcome, he supposes. “I hope your trip was enjoyable. Would you like me to call your sta—”

“How is my wife?” Is the first thing that Naoya comes out of his mouth, not a request for something to make his return more tolerable, he doesn’t care about that right now.

“I—I heard she was doing fine.” The man stammers, unsure how to proceed considering their turbulent past… he hopes that his answer is adequate enough, at least for now. “Much better than before, she just stayed inside the estate, accompanied by her staff… and so.”

Of course you would, Naoya notes, why wouldn’t you? He went through great lengths to ensure that would happen. A quick way to ensure your misery.

“I see” Naoya responds, and without further precedent, he dismisses the man, heading off to the depths of the dark halls with nothing but his solitude.

That’s how days are usually nowadays, he thought he’d get used to them by now, but he isn’t.

He doesn’t think he’ll ever get used to this loneliness—he was always accompanied, either by the superficial words of his family, or the jealous glances of others, there was always someone to keep an eye on him. 

Now he feels like he couldn’t be any more irrelevant, hell, not even his own staff waited for him. Not that they would, considering he came back unannounced… but he’s seen that sense of loyalty from others, and it makes him realize just how unlikeable he truly is.

There’s no denying that he’s tired, exhausted from exerting both his mind and his body beyond their limits these past few days. A good night’s rest is well deserved at this point.

Nonetheless, there’s still something bothering him in the back of his head that won’t let him rest, and it’s this thought that guides him to your room.

Even when there’s another voice telling him that he shouldn’t visit you like this, that he should respect your wishes and leave you alone, his heart can’t be that far from you, he doesn’t want to be stranded from you anymore .

Through careful steps and watchful eyes, Naoya eventually arrives in your room. He stares at the door for a few seconds, as if still debating whether to proceed or not, before making his decision by placing his hand on the edge and sliding it open.

If not by the moonlight, your husband wouldn’t have been able to see inside—but there you were, laying on your side, peacefully sleeping in your bed. The sight is enough to warm his heart, almost to sway him away… but he steps inside, closing the door behind him soon after.

He silently walks over to your side, hoping that you wouldn’t notice his presence, and stops at the edge of your bed. Naoya then kneels down to your level, stays like that for a few seconds, pressing his lips in deep thought before taking a chance and laying down to your side.

It had been so, so long since he had you this close, it almost felt like a dream, so he couldn’t hold himself back from draping his arm over you, nuzzling as close as possible, taking in your scent which always calmed him down, checking you hadn’t woken up… before beginning.

“I’m home, Y/N” he whispers. “After days away… I’m finally home.”

…

…

Silence.

“It’s good to be back. Even if it was just for 2 days, it felt like an eternity for me. I really didn’t want to leave, but you know what they say— duty calls .” He chuckles. No response. “I loathed this year’s mission, mainly because I was paired up with someone I don’t really like. The work is already tedious, imagine doing it with someone obnoxious? And that’s without considering I had to cover for them most of the time”

He sighs.

“But I guess that doesn’t matter now, not when I’m finally here.

This time I was deployed to Nagoya this time because celebrations were expected to be a bit bigger. And they were— there were a lot of people dressed up stupidly, drinking even more stupidly too.

Can you believe I was called because of a silly costume? Apparently, someone was so frightened by it, they caused a whole commotion, to the point some “windows” thought it was an actual curse. The look on their faces when I told them it was just a person in tasteless makeup is one I’ll never forget! Ah, well, at least I won’t be stuck doing that case’s paperwork.

…Either way… I’ve been told that you’re feeling much better. I’m… glad you are— I was worried that when I was away your condition would worsen, and I wouldn’t be there to help you. Not that my presence here would make any difference, but… I could still do something, call someone if you need it, you know?

I hope the weather didn’t bother you that much either—it was pretty cold out there; and I know how ugly it can get here in the mountains… But I don’t worry too much because I know your staff will keep you comfortable, they’re very diligent with you. I've seen it and I’m glad it’s that way.

…

…

I can’t imagine how boring today must’ve been too. I don’t celebrate Halloween, but I imagine someone as fun like you must… right? Although… I don’t really know what you like. Either way, I’m sure you would’ve enjoyed going out, visiting some stores or something. 

…

…

I wish I could’ve taken you to do that. Like a… compensation for getting you sick, now that you’re a bit better. Get you to see the city, a change of scenery from this boring place. We don’t even have to do that, you know? Anything will do fine.

But…

But I know you won’t want to. I know you wouldn’t like to go with me because you…”

He inadvertently holds you tighter against him, trying to hold back the tears that have been forming in his eyes the past few minutes.

What would Naoya blame now?

Would he blame his brother for the rift between the two?

Or your sickness, the hindrance it brought?

Perhaps your inability to get along with his family’s costumes, because you were a so-called stubborn woman, stuck in “modern ways”?

…

…

…

No.

Not anymore.

Not when he finally knew why .

“Because… I… Because I frighten you”

You can’t even stand the sight of me without cowering in fear—because more than hate me, you fear me. And I have no one to blame but myself ” he sobs. 

“I was the one that made you feel that way towards me, I was the one that hurt you, humiliated you, and I still had the nerve to blame you for all of it.

Instead of helping you, I put myself against you. I acted as if you were the one to wrong me and allowed my family to further hurt you. I couldn’t even stand against my own father when he ordered you to be killed , because I was so angry you didn’t play along with the stupid joke I made! One I should’ve never done in the first place! How pathetic could I have been?!

How could I preach I care for you, how much I wanted you to be here, being my wife, when the first thing I did after exchanging vows with you is terrorize you ? When I should’ve been the one to protect you from any harm, I became that danger itself; ignoring how you were in pain, how you told me to stop, and yet I continued because I could only think of myself!

How could I even call myself your husband … when all I’ve ever done is keep you away from your family, allow my family to torment you… and then turn my back on you when you needed the most comfort?

No wonder you found solace on my brother. No wonder you wish to be with literally anyone else but me.

Because I’ve always been the one to hurt you. I've always been your tormentor…

And no one else but myself is to blame ”

It was a hard pill to swallow for Naoya. To finally admit what your actions had been screaming to him since the moment you married him.

But it was harder to admit that he always knew. That he always, deep inside him, knew he was the one responsible for the rupture of this marriage.

He just… he just didn’t want to admit it. Naoya didn’t want to accept that he had turned out to be just like the man he hated the most in his life—like his father . As if history were repeating itself.

Yet, the only thing that pains him more out of this situation is that while he remained in his delusions, he just hurt you even more, and more…

But never again.

Never again will he instill you the same pain he’s suffered.

Naoya will never, ever hurt the woman he considers to be the love of his life.

“I’m sorry” he breathes. “I’m sorry for everything I’ve done to hurt you. I’m sorry for the times I pushed you away and made you pay the consequences for my actions , when I should’ve defended you.

I’m sorry for allowing others to humiliate you, to stomp over your persona… and myself being one of them too.

I’m sorry for the awful lonely way I’ve made you feel, making you believe you’re worthless, when in fact, you are the most precious person in the world to me…

…

I promise to never hurt you again. I promise to mend all of my mistakes and become a husband worthy of your affection. A man you’ll be able to see without feeling fear.

Even if it takes me my whole life—I will stop at nothing to fix my mistakes and make a place where you can be happy, where you can be safe.

Even if… I’m not part of it. I will do it because it’s the right thing . It is my duty to you as your husband—as someone… that cares for you very much.”

Naoya kisses the top of your head before peeling away from your body, pushing himself up from the futon and heading towards the door. He gives you one last glance through his teary eyes, knowing well this is the last time he’ll ever be this close to you.

“I’m sorry for everything, Y/N. Goodnight.”

And then, he leaves.

Even when he knew it wasn’t perhaps the best moment to say them, he still meant them very, very much. 

Promises without actions are only empty words, that much he learned now, and it’s perhaps why he decided to meet you like this—because he knew that first, you’d reject any intention of conversing with him, secondly, because this is work that must be done in the background, things that must be realized without the acknowledgement of others, simply because it’s the right thing.

Yet, he still wished you to know, wanted to show you how much you mean to him… once again, a selfish act from his heart.

Naoya knows that the path of forgiveness will not be an easy one, if even accomplished, but it is something he’s willing to traverse. It’s his promise to you to mend all of his mistakes, to give you what you truly deserve.

A promise he intends to keep, a promise he meant .

So, he goes to his room and onto the bed, managing to get whatever little rest he could get after exhausting, endless days of work, preparing for whatever is to come next, leaving you alone, in your room, to do the same…

Only that you were now wide awake, had been since he started going on about his promises, intently listening to his sorrows and how much he regretted his actions—giving you the words that your heart has longed to hear for so, so long…

And instead of going back to sleep, all you could do is cry.

[the-courage-to-heal]

A personal message:

About a month ago I attempted to take my life. I took an overdose of dose of pills intentionally. I want to share the story of what I went through. When I arrived at the hospital a nurse told me I could keep my phone “if I didn’t cause trouble” I called my Mom and softly cried. I was told

“I thought you said you wouldn’t cause any trouble”

 I came to realize trouble meant making any noise. I immediately offered to quiet myself. That wasn’t good enough. I was told that I was not allowed to have access to my cell phone anymore. Despite the fact I apologized for crying, and immediately said I understood and would quiet myself.

The nurse advanced on me and attempted to wrestle my phone from my hands. Apparently you are allowed to physically assault somebody if you are a nurse. I want to emphasize all I did was offer to quiet myself immediately. I apologized for crying. That wasn’t good enough.

By this point I was incredibly triggered. I said I wanted to leave, and for good reason this is obviously not something you can do after attempting suicide. They were right to call in people to restrain me. However, these people would have never been called in if the nurse had shown me a shred a basic human empathy, decency and kindness. she enjoyed inflicting pain upon someone who was vulnerable.

What was wrong was them continuing to restrain me to the point I was severely bruised. I can only document in photographs what was done to me.

I fought at first, but very quickly submitted. A man held my face down into the mattress. I told him I couldn’t breathe. He kept holding my face down until I was hyperventilating, and about to pass out. I kept saying I could not breathe. They didn’t believe me until I was hyperventilating and in the process of suffocating. I was genuinely terrified they were going to suffocate me. Right when I was about to lose consciousness they finally released me.

However, my torture was not done. They tied my hand up above my head. I explained they were tearing muscles. I spent at least 10 minutes sobbing and begging them to tie me up n a way that wouldn’t physically harm my body.

They finally relented when I pointed out that tying a persons head above their arms was a form of torture that the Romans inflicted upon people they crucified. That is what it took for them to stop torturing me. They could have done whatever they wanted to me. 

I heard the same nurse abusing another patient the next morning. She told a man involved in a drunk, driving accident.

“Your problem is at the bottom of a bottle”

I looked at the nurse who was watching over me and said,

“That is cruel, they are mentally ill. Their problem is that their pain is now hurting other people. Not at the bottom of a bottle.”

That is beyond cruel. She might as well have told him to kill himself and make the world a better place by decreasing the surplus population.  I met somebody who is the living embodiment of Ebeneezer Scrooge.

If I learned anything from this experience, it is that strength has to come from within yourself because nobody will give a sh*t if you don’t care about yourself. People use you, and abuse you when you are most vulnerable.

“Help” exists for those who can pay for it. Everyone else is just surplus clogging up the system.

I have not posted a photo of myself for a very long time. I have been overwhelmed. I have neglected this blog. But I want to use my voice so other people can hear what I went through and maybe it will help them to continue going when all hope seems lost. The United States has an appalling system, that punishes the mentally ill. People dealing with suicidal ideation are human beings. They are no less deserving of respect and kindness. The most fragile among us deserve the greatest protection. Not to be feasted on by crows pecking at their corpse. I hope at the very least I have created a safe space with this blog.

[dame-bloodrose]

Holy shit I had a dream about me going out on a bike on my own to do a painting somewhere for some sort of art collective zine and then submitting it and then coming home a few days after leaving it with my mom and stepdad only to find they'd chopped pieces of my painting's frame off to support their painting, while reshaping my own.

Naturally I was incredibly upset about this in my dream and i expressed this frustration with them both. The art collective at least liked my writing about the painting so much that they held up publication verifying it was original text.

As I'm typing this up I'm thinking about how this applies on an emotional/metaphorical level with how my mom treated me up until the point i cut her out of my life. She'd take the parts of me she wanted and used them to reframe me as the kind of child she thought I should be, all the while ignoring the core of who I was or am. She told me I was the more computer inclined type. I don't know why. Maybe because I could type quickly. Anyway the point is, she spent decades of my life telling me something despite all the evidence contrary to it - every time i tried to do computer programming it wouldn't stick in my brain. If the reason she thought I was more computer inclined was because my ability to type quickly and well, then she ignored the reason I developed that skill. That is, I have written in a word processor for approximately 24 years now. I know my way around a keyboard. I also used to roleplay in a live chat environment frequently. So i was constantly typing. I'm actually less computer inclined than my younger sibling who she said was extremely mechanically inclined. My sibling is physically much larger than me in every way. And they support themselves doing freelance 3D modeling and shit for video games.

This past year I've discovered that I actually do like working on cars (I still don't think we should live in a car centric society but that's an entirely different post), and that furthermore I find mechanical work that i do with my hands much easier than I thought I would. I've been able to look at parts of a door on a slot machine and almost perfectly understand how it's supposed to work. My favorite thing at work is building locks. It's tedious but enjoyable. My boss thinks I'm a weirdo because of that. But i just really, really fucking like working on locks. My dream job actually is working on bicycles as a bike mechanic.

This isn't even getting into gender shit. I'm not going to go all into it for obvious reasons, but she couldn't accept for the longest time that her children are gender deviant and have a different understanding of themselves than the one she pictured of us growing up. She was trying because my uncle made her try the last time he talked to her, but I'm not sure whether she's regressed or not because I don't talk to her anymore.

Anyway all of this is just to say: my parents don't get to decide me and I'm allowed to be a person with my own vision of myself. I am a new blank canvas and i can paint and shape myself the way i want to.

[ihaveatheoryonthat]

But Who's Keeping Score?

For good, and for bad, I don't have nearly as many unfinished pieces this year, but there are still a handful that I'd like to move off the burners, so here's a last-minute WIP before the year ends. As per usual, it's got placeholders all over and isn't in a finished state.

Just in case you're sensitive to the subject matter, it focuses pre-transition characters, who use their birth names up to a point. It's not coming from a place of malice, it's just because they don't identify as men at that point in the story.

(As a side note, I somehow ended up basing this in the same continuity as Keep Making that Face, but you don't need to be familiar with it to read this.)

---

Somebody had submitted Irma’s name to the annual Nimbasa [?] poll. She tried to tell herself she wasn’t upset about it-- it was just a silly popularity contest-- but if they were being realistic, it was all about appearances. Under different circumstances, Irma wasn’t the sort to wring her hands over how attractive others did or didn’t find her, but…

But throughout her entire adult life, over and over, she’d been told how much prettier she’d be if she smiled like Emma.

Irma tried. She really, truly did. If people paid enough attention, they could see the way her eyes narrowed when she was happy, and she did her best to make her voice dynamic and expressive to show others how she felt. It just… wasn’t enough. People always took her at face value, and one thing Irma physically could not do was smile like her sister.

It wasn’t the idea of people finding her unattractive that bothered her; it was the fact that she’d have irrefutable proof that people simply didn’t understand her, and didn’t care to try.

She tried to put it from her mind and focus on work but, inevitably, someone would make a comment about her expression and she’d be forced to confront the problem again. Emma had started taking it personally. It would have been a nice gesture, but it always ended in Irma having to swoop in and intervene before she could say something that would get her fired. She loved her sister, but the extra responsibility of dragging her away by the collar every time she heard the word ‘smile’ was the last thing she needed right now.

It made sense; Emma had felt responsible for the facial paralysis ever since diagnosis, no matter how emphatically Irma told her it wasn’t her fault. The guilt of it had lessened for awhile-- once Irma made enough progress with physical therapy to emote from the nose up, and Emma relearned to read her twin’s face-- but when they’d gone on to find employment with the United Unovan Railway, people started making pointed comments. Ironically, Emma never had possessed much of a poker face, and it was plain to see that it struck her every time she happened to hear.

Some days, Irma wished she could just be a man instead. No one would lament her “resting bitch face” then-- or, if they did, then maybe the “bitch” part wouldn’t sting so much. It was a fleeting-- if frequent-- thought that she passed off without any deeper consideration.

In the end, the voting period wasn’t actually so bad. She’d tried to tell herself that, even if she came in at dead last, it was still a lot to have been nominated at all… regardless of the fact that it did feel like a cruel prank, when she was being honest; she’d never know if it had been a legitimate submission or a mean spirited joke. Surprisingly, she landed just under the median. It was still a good two dozen spots behind her sister and entire light years from someone like Elesa, but she could live with that.

What hurt the most was the discussion in the aftermath. Irma didn’t go out seeking commentary on the poll, but having been an unwilling part of it, it found her-- people lamenting that she’d somehow placed ahead of them or saying that anyone who voted for her over their preference didn’t have any taste. There were some whose talk wasn’t even negative, just incredulous. Somehow, it didn’t feel any better to be told that someone had been surprised to see her rank so highly, but congratulations!

She took to wearing a face mask during work hours, sick to death, but only of the subject matter. If people couldn’t see her lips, they might mistake her for Emma and spare her the unsolicited interjections. Emma hated that she had to resort to such measures, but couldn’t offer any other solution-- save for ripping into anyone she caught making noise.

When Elesa had caught wind of the situation, she’d taken a different track. The reassurances that it was a stupid poll to begin with, and a mid-tier placement wasn’t bad at all weren’t anything Irma hadn’t already told herself, and as much as she’d tried to be grateful for the fact that her friend cared enough to encourage her, Irma only found it exhausting. It was over now, and she just wished they could move past it. She understood that they wanted to make her feel better, but why did they have to keep revisiting the topic?

Irma had forgotten that, while the general public had proven they couldn’t read her, Elesa certainly could, and she recognized that her input was only making things worse. Instead, she took to sending Irma messages throughout the week, showing her those comments that highlighted her enthusiasm and geniality-- and even several that framed her not as distant and aloof due to her frown, but intelligent and alluring.

It was kind of her, and her efforts did actually help. Irma didn’t really know what to make of being called “alluring”, but could… appreciate the compliment? She guessed?

The years after that weren’t so bad-- it was just the first time she’d been on the board that people had seen fit to approach her about it. Frankly, the only time thereafter that it had been of any interest at all was the year a particularly nasty strain of the flu ran rampant through the city; it became commonplace for people to wear face masks in public and, with only the upper half of her face to judge by, commuters were able to recognize when Irma smiled at them in her own way. Strangely, it even reflected in that year’s poll: instead of twenty places apart, Irma found that she landed just under Emma.

It still didn’t mean anything in the long run, but it was… nice to feel like people could begin to see her for what she was, rather than what she wasn’t.

The year after that, he’d come out to his sibling and they’d drawn up rough schematics for a train car that could withstand the wear and tear of battle. Both of them had been somewhat absent from the public eye as they brought the idea to both the head of the UUR and the Pokemon League, then subsequently been made to prove the concept. Surely polling happened that year, but both of the twins were too caught up in their project to pay it even the slightest bit of attention. It meant even less than usual that time, when they’d only be put in the wrong category.

Which brought them to this year.

The battle cars were perfectly functional and the system was promising. They’d debuted the mini-battle facility using different names from what people knew, and hosted only multi battles-- it set the subway apart from the gym challenge, and it also let them focus on their specialty, honing it to perfection. The somewhat dramatic coming out hadn’t had any bearing on that; it had just been convenient timing.

So far, the Battle Subway was a hit. They’d had coworkers express an interest in joining up, and had successfully proven the concept to the League; while it wasn’t guaranteed at this point, there was even talk of broadening the system to include more common battle styles.

With the prospect of expanding the services on the table, Ingo had been focused on how to make it work. There was a fair amount of interest in battling for a living, but so far, no other trainers who could serve as the final milestone for a line dedicated to single or double battles. While he and Emmet were certainly capable of filling those gaps, he needed to figure out how to make the timing work; using a win streak kept them from being swamped so far, so maybe it was just a matter of tweaking the existing system? How many wins could they reasonably expect a trainer to achieve? It was difficult to say. Not everyone was as… enthusiastic as he and his twin were, but if they’d boarded looking for a battle, then it wasn’t unfair to provide a certain amount of challenge…

He heard the lock turn, snapping him back to reality, and belatedly pulled a [blob] of accumulated fur from the comb he’d been moving on autopilot. It was the interruption of the pattern that caused Excadrill to look up, disturbed out of the doze it had fallen into.

On the other side of the front door, two muffled voices chattered back and forth, but went strangely quiet when they finally crossed into the apartment. Ingo sighed internally and braced himself for whatever trick would eventually be leveled at him.

[avareiahgt]

GT July Prompts 2024

Day 5: Fawning

—Don’t mess with me, Connor, I did nothing— Hanna said pointing at me with a tiny finger I could barely see.

—I spent years of my life for Alec to tell me his whole family story and now he tells you after some weeks? Doll, you sure have an effect on him— I said, smirking.

We were both sitting on Alec’s couch, Hanna sitting down on the top of the back while I looked up at her form from my lying position.

—I didn’t push him or anything. I guess I just asked the right questions—she explained.

—Maybe if I were a small sweet pretty girl in a hurry, he would tell me as well… But, oh! Wait—I made a dramatic pause— I’ve always been a small sweet guy in a hurry, even today…

—Not small enough— she smirked down at me. In confidence she was kind of a teaser. Something told me she was not this salty with Alec. Otherwise, he would had thrown she away… would he?

—Not that my actual height gives me some advantage in life right now—I spilled, half joking, half serious.

—Trust me when I say you have it way better— she stated and a hand made its way to her leg, forever marked.

—It really amazed me that you survived that thing, tho—I started—. Your life was quite on the line, you know?

She made a soft sound, like showing she was listening but thinking at the same time.

—I’m so persistent— she simply said.

—I can see that— a soft but true laugh scaped my throat.

—What did you do to convince Alec to tell you his story? —curiosity was my favorite sin, also the most dangerous. I didn’t think long my response.

—I just followed him until he answered— I shrugged.

She lowered herself a bit to look down at me from her privileged seat.

—Really? That was your strategy? —she seemed surprised, not for long, anyways.

—Of course. I met his sister before, but I didn’t know they were siblings until he insulted me some day.

—What? He did insult you?

—Yeah, tons of times, but that was our first meeting. I have photographic memory; I could quote every single day of my life since I was six with no mistakes— I explained.

—Wow… that’s impressive and quite useful—she whistled in amazement.

—Also, I got to remember all the bad things I would love to forget— I commented.

—Sure… Nevermind, why did he insult you on first place? — she insisted and I appreciated avoiding the memory curse theme.

—I got tangled in some… hairy situations. All my fault of course. The thing is that Vecca, his sister, dismissed me and I found a grumpy teenager calling me an idiot, in addition to my unemployed state. Actually, he was right and Vecca was right to dismiss me, too.

—Do I wanna ask? — she wondered.

—You can— I submitted myself.

—I assure you don’t want to ask, just let him flatter you some more— Alec’s voice came from where he was standing on the corridor doorframe.

—Or we could keep talking about your bravery and the stubbornly that took you to live enough to have this chat— I said as if the idea was mine.

—You’re connecting fine, I’m back to work— he muttered and disappeared into his study once more.

—Excuse him, he’s not the chatty type.

—Really? He chats with me so well— Hanna said.

I got instantly offended.

—Why he doesn’t with me? I’m so sad now— I sat up and my fast move thew Hanna off balance even sitting. I held one of her arms to keep her from roll. My head was now some inches below her. I freed her arm when she was stable again and she touched it like it burned. Maybe I was being rude with so much physical contact.

—Maybe if you keep adoring me, I would give you some advices for talking to him, but I warn you it won’t be as effective as if you were a small pretty girl.

—I will sign the deal— I accepted, offering her a finger for a handshake.

She used a tiny hand I almost didn’t feel on my skin and shook it, sealing the verbal contract.

—Now, you can keep talking about how beautiful and well-behaved and strong I am—she smiled.

—Did I say all of that stuff?

[alivesoul]

Therapy Assignment by Thomas Turner

It took almost a week for before I could start writing about the most traumatic experience in my life. The therapist I have been seeing gave me this assignment during our last session. She said she could tell I wanted to share something. I have had so many traumatic experiences in my estimation that I really didn’t know where to rank them.  I think the most traumatic event in my life was experiencing the abuse of my mother first-hand and not being able to do anything about it.  My mother had a friend named Ernestine who she knew for a very long time.  She trusted Ernestine as they were young mothers together during the time of my brother’s birth.  When my mother needed a place to stay, Ernestine offered her living room in her two-bedroom apartment in Soundview Houses in the Bronx.  Ernestine had a son named Richard and what me and mother came to discover is that Richard was a monster.  When my mother moved in, Richard was very nice to her. My mother, a full-blown alcoholic, needed beer or a "taste" of some kind in the morning just to get through the day.  Richard quickly figured that out and began readily supplying her habit. One night, he came on to her sexually and she submitted, and they began having a “relationship”. Things changed for the worse when he asked my mother for her 1st of the month check money. When she said no, he began beating her. 

The first time he beat my mother, I wasn’t present, but I came home to see the results.  Her face was red, swollen, and she had scratches on her arms.  You tell she had been crying a lot and she looked scared.  I never saw that in my mother before.  One day, he made her go down to Orchard Beach to go fishing, something she had no interest in doing. When he felt she wasn’t enjoying herself enough, he slapped her so hard her eye began to swell immediately and eventually it shut.  That was the first time I witnessed my mother being hit. I was so scared I couldn’t speak.  For the next four months, Richard would sexually and physically abuse my mother countless times.  Her friend Ernestine was also a victim, the man even threatened and beat his mother into silence and submission.  One morning , I woke up and heard her being beaten in the bathroom.  I opened the door and she was naked and bleeding. I screamed at him “Leave her alone!!” he didn’t respond, he just looked it at me with these beady eyes and he just kept hitting her.  That night, I resolved I was going to kill him.

I waited until I thought everyone was asleep, silently walked into the kitchen, grabbed the biggest knife I could find and made my way towards him.  I would stab him in the neck first and then in the chest, that would make sure he was dead.  As I approached him, my mother reached out to me and grabbed my arm, she had been watching me the whole time.  She simply said “No, Tommy” It was the way she said it, almost reassuringly, like, “I have a plan to get us out of this”.  To this day, I don’t know how I understood that, but I did, and I put the knife back, got back in bed and cried myself to sleep as my mother held me.  The next morning, my mother made me go to school extra early, when I came home from school, there were police officers waiting for me. While I was in school my mother had escaped the apartment by going up to the roof of the building and exiting out the adjacent building.  She made her way to Samuel Gompers High School where she found a cop and told him her story. 

I was taken from my mother that day by the city. It was from here that I ended up in a group home and eventually I found my way into foster care. I lost touch with my mother for four full years, before reconnecting with her in a hospital in Brooklyn where she had been diagnosed with HIV.

As she has aged, my mother has begun to take responsibility for much of the events of her life. She laments drinking and wishes she was a better mother to me. I have long forgiven my mother for what happened.  My mother sought the safety and love of men after losing her husband traumatically (he was struck by a D-train in the Bronx). She found neither. Every man in my mother's life caused her pain and suffering. Every single one. I personally think she did the best she could under the worst of circumstances. The abuse I would experience and my mother's abuse by the hands of so many men are the reasons why I do not have many male friends and I have a very low trust level for men in general.  I am also outraged by the systems that failed my mother in her time of need and instead sought to separate us as a family. My mother’s continued struggles for housing and health have been the constant theme music blaring in the background of my life ever since.  I just wish I could turn it off before she dies.   

[miss-soph-star]

1, 13 and 31 for the asks sweetie ❤️

Hiii sweet bee! Here you go…feel free to claim an emoji if you want! Your always welcome on my page <3

1. Any unexpected ways kink has improved your life?  If so, what are they?

Yes definitely! It gives me the freedom to give up my control, fully submit to someone I know I can trust. That’s so powerful for me as a submissive. My day life is a full time job, alongside my final year at university (also full time). My job is often very physical, draining and I need to be fully in control of myself and the environment to ensure the safety of everyone from both themselves and others. So being able to let my hair down and have someone guide me, both sexually and non-sexually is so nice. Sexually it allows me to explore my sexuality further and push my boundaries, which is extremely empowering for me and as for non sexually, I would enjoy this dynamic 24/7 but when needed it would be nice to know I could communicate my needs to a partner who could take control, whether that’s in helping me shower, playing with my hair or just telling me to sit down and relax (which is so hard for me, since my brain never switches off)

13. Do you like hair-pulling?

YES YES YES YES YES YES YES!!!!! Both giving and receiving! Absolutely…it turns me feral when someone plays or pulls my hair…you have no idea ;) so let me paint you a picture…*making out, I’d love to sit facing my dom/me or on her lap, spread out so nicely for her in my little slip dress. My hands roaming where they’re told to go as she pulls my hair controlling my every move…or maybe she’s using her strap, I’m face down, and she pulls on my hair thrusting into me forcing me to lean back ever so slightly so she can see my face…or maybe I’m tugging her hair while shes between my thighs, a cute little way to show her how good she makes me feel. Hmmm maybe she has me all tied up in pretty little ropes, using my hair to guide my mouth while she gets off!

31. Have you ever had to use your safe word?

Yes, there is one time I vividly remember using it with my ex partner, it was quite scary and I remember being so confused. It was actually just during a spontaneous moment, nothing exciting, but there was a word she used when I was reaching my climax, now I can see she was seeking a reaction knowing I hated it from something in my childhood and I started to panic. Unfortunately she wasn’t the most understanding of people, so not only was I made to feel silly for calling it, but though she knew during a panic attack, especially when I’m so overstimulated, I hate being touched and not only did she cross that boundary, she also shouted at me, after I explicitly said to leave me alone for 5 minutes to calm down. She then fell asleep and couldn’t see an issue in the morning. There are definitely other times I should have called it, and now I’m so much more experienced and confident in expressing what I need. I’m not perfect but I know now I don’t have to be <3