#and it's kinda suffocating and uncomfortable for both. i think

[tankgotstuckinthecircusgate]

to me eddie is a person who isn't capable of romantic love + highly afraid of losing his freedom while carlo is highly capable of love but it's more like possessing a thing (which is probably the worst version of love???) and that dynamic is so fucked up to me

[gravegoer]

How do you think sevika would react if her partner said the safe word? I NEED TO KNOW PLEASE

And i really love your work, thank you so much!!

Safeword 𓂃۶ৎ

thank you for the ask! and the complement, i dont know what your guys' safe word would be, knowing sevika it would just be safeword, nothing sexy, also funfact i usually write my captions before my fics so idrk if this is gonna hcs or a fic so a mystery for us both ig

masterlist , like 800 words idk i kinda hate this

Sevika had a rough day, and it was obvious through the way she manhandled you that night, teeth marks strewn about your body, as well as light bruises.

You were starting to get more tired by the minute, hands barely grasping her back whilst she towered over her.

The sticky sweat on your body and the heat of the room started to get overwhelming, and you felt as if you might suffocate in the heavy air.

Her thick fingers were sloppily fucking your entrance, making you groan in overstimulation.

You lightly tapped her back, murmuring your shared safeword, before throwing your head back out of exhaustion.

Sevika would hesitate a bit before realizing what you said and coming to a stop. She feels a bit bad for her roughness and reaches to wipe a tear from the corner of your eye. (with not the coochie juice fingers)

Her lips that framed previously gritted teeth were now pressed together in a small pout.

She pulls you into her lap, your head now lulling onto her shoulder she runs a rough hand up your back and through your hair.

Her thick fingers untangle some of the knots she caused.

"Sorry. Are you okay?"

You hum in response, causing Sevika to furrow her brows, pulling your face from her shoulder. She plants a kiss, much gentler than before, to your eyelid.

This is the gentlest you've seen her all week (mostly because you haven't seen her much). Your interactions mostly consisted of a small peck or her ranting angerly about Silco.

Scooping you up, she carries you on her hip to the bathroom, running a wash cloth under warm water to rub down your skin.

Planting kisses down your neck, she mutters apologies into the bruises she left.

If you shiver from the coldness of the counter, she's immediately pulling you back into her, cradling you while she wipes your face with a damp hand.

She's taking her tie out of her hair to secure yours, pulling the uncomfortable stray strands from your face.

Although she does take a moment to admire your state, hair messy and lips swollen, looking up at her through lidded eyes.

Offering you a guilty smile, she carries you back to the bedroom, gently laying you atop the sheets.

Sevika tilts your chin up to pour cool water in your mouth, contrasting the hot kiss that comes after it.

She lets you lay atop her chest, offering her warmth as another apology.

And its definitely her turn to make breakfast in the morning.

very short, whoops writers block threw multiple bricks at me and broke all my fingers so i cant write properly

taglist: @thequeenreaders @hangezoes-wife @thesecondhandwoman @slut4sevika @archangeldyke-all @kylorey25 @sylencr @jinxjinxjinx12 @morphids @aizawasbaeee @ariya13 @tiyawnyana

[littledes1re]

How to disappear | Chapter: two

Summary: Joel is feeling guilty, he is broken. He ruined you. Yet, he has the audacity to come to your house and have dinner. To come to your door and talk to you. Your mind is a chaos.

Warnings: ANGST, fluff (but as a flashback, i’m sorry) dealing with heartbreak, tommy cameo, Joel is kinda an asshole, fighting, age gap! (23 and 61), grief, anxiety, lots of crying, depression, small reference to suicide

A/N: AAA it‘s finally hereeeee. It’s kinda short but there is lot’s of things going on right now so🫩But this took SO long I kept deleting it and then rewriting it. I was never satisfied, but now I think I like it. I didn‘t even think so many people would read it🥹

„You‘re not the happiest I‘ve seen you, once again.“ if his mother would still be alive, Tommy would run to her and spill his heart out about joel. Ask for advice, listen to her words and maybe even cry. He couldn‘t understand his pain, but could see his sorrow. He wanted to reach his hand out, take a part out of it, carry it with his own. But Joel never let him—never let him past that strong wall that he was hiding behind.

„It‘s going.“ Joel shrugged, taking a sip from his drink and putting it down. In his mind he was already planning to make this wall stronger, so this time Tommy wouldn‘t even notice when his mood was off for a few days. But, he couldn‘t blame him. The months after the accident, joel did not even once speak to his little brother. There was an uncomfortable passing between them, one that none of them could break, the guilt weighed heavy on both of them—one, not knowing how to handle his big brother after his daughter died in his arms; the other, not knowing how to open up, shutting people out completely, resigned to misery and solitude.

„S‘nothing. Swear.“

And joels stomach twists at the thought of calling you nothing.

„Okey, brother. I believe you. Uh—benjamin’s birthday is tomorrow. You comin‘? And tess too?“ Tommy asks, a little bit more hopeful because Joel was actually showing interest in their conversation. Yet, there was still this dull light in his eyes, sadness and the bags under them did nothing to ease his worries. His brother was strong—that was certain. Whatever he was saying should be true and tommy tried his best to hang on that reassuring promise that joel was doing okey, even if in the back of his mind he beat himself up, for not knowing how to handle him. How to handle his anxiety, his guilt.

„Yeah, sounds good.“

There was a bling, his phone went off. It was you, once again.

Every time Joel read your messages, your letters, each one left unanswered, each call declined, a sharp knife that already sits in his heart just twists a little deeper. There is no denying in what he had done. The cowardice. He had ruined you, crushed something fragile within you, made you love him only to vanish without a single explanation. The only thing left in his wake was consequence. The deep hatred he carried for himself, the suffocating guilt, always trailing behind him like a second shadow. He tried, over and over, to give himself and the world another chance—but he ruins it, every single time. And now, seeing the weight of it all reflected trough your efforts, makes him want to die. He tried that once, but he is a coward.

The day he came to your room to ask how you are doing. The day he got the news that your mother had passed. It all hit him. He just understood the pain you were feeling and how much of a moron your dad was. Being best friends with him for years, he saw some shit that made his stomach turn. Not even once caring for his daughter, always having a dumb excuse to not pick you up from somewhere, always having an excuse to avoid his daughter. And god—if joel didn‘t need to be friends with him because of work, he would‘ve probably beat him.

Alone, angry and miserable. He knew how you were feeling, and if your dads not going to be there to comfort you, he took that role.

But he wished he didn‘t. There was a line that was crossed, the more time you spent together, the more he lost himself in you. Suddenly, the pain wasn't that big anymore; suddenly he had someone with him who understood him and gave him strength. Joel hadn't known anything like that in a long time. This affection from someone else. If it wasn't a warm shoulder on a cold winter morning, then it was the loving look when he showed up at your door. It felt like everything else in the world disappeared and only the two of you existed. Understood, comforted, loved. Together.

His eyes fell to the pink blanket he extra bought for you, a sharp pain spread over his heart.

“No, keep em’ closed.”

The air was crisp, carrying the scent of fresh grass and distant city lights. It was one beautiful night. The temperature just the kind of gentle chill that brushed against bare skin, coaxing shivers yet never sharp enough to be uncomfortable. A perfect summer night.

He was standing behind you, his hands hovering over your eyes, warm and slightly trembling. Joel was nervous. And he wasn’t sure if you noticed it. He even accidentally stumbled on the back of your feet, a little ‘sorry’ leaving his lips. But you always noticed, every single detail that his expression makes, his body language. You knew it all. Seeing a man like him, with his rough edges, grumpy attitude being anxious was a rare sight, but a sweet one.

Your heart was thrumming inside your chest— there was a sweet awaiting of love and affection but one that was still swimming in the unknown. Anticipation floating in the air between you two. Neither of you dared to take the first step. Maybe it was fear. Fear that what you felt was love—or something dangerously close to it—but that for him, it was something else entirely. A refuge, a place to rest, not a fire to burn in. Was it love, or merely the comfort of knowing you were there? If he had never needed saving, would he have reached for you at all?

Yet, you imagined it was love. Waiting, wanting. Needing.

“Okey, open them.”

And as you did, you sucked in a breath.

The soft glow of the fairy lights twinkled, golden and pretty against the darkness, that was surrounding you two. A white sheet had been hung from the tree, flickering slightly as it caught the breeze. In front of that — a projector. Pillows and a pink blanket had been scattered across the grass, cosy and all of it carefully placed, he made it just for you. And you couldn’t believe it.

Same flannel. He was wearing the same flannel in front of you from that night. Shamelessly sitting there, eating. The hatred filled you, the anger was one you could feel in your bones yet you wanted to cry. Your fist were clenched under the table, leaving marks on your skin. There was a tight knot in your throat, just barely keeping you from sobbing out loud. Like a baby. You were ashamed, cheeks flamed— because apparently he didn’t care.

You had your answer. Joel just wanted a shoulder to cry on. And it was you who fell in love and made everything difficult.

Why tho? That single word clawed at your mind, echoing in the quiet.

All these words he whispered to you in the middle of the night, all the times he had made you blush, giggle, smile. Looked at you love. Tucking you to bed, cuddling you, making you food. People didn’t just do that for fun? Do they?

He looked at you as if nothing else existed in this world except you

It hurt. It felt like a gut punch. Like you could crawl away from the embarrassment and stick your head into sand only to never come out.

But what hurt more was the painful realisation, that he moved on. So easily. As if you were nothing more than a passing season in his life, something to be forgotten once the weather changed.

His girlfriend was beautiful, polite and way older. Older than you. While there should have been deep hatred toward them both, you couldn‘t get past that. Your mind even coming to the conclusion that they fit together. Fit together way more than you and joel did. The age gap was a normal one, she probably had a good job and income, an apartment. You had none of those things. And maybe joel didn‘t deserve that, maybe his decision was right, maybe you shouldn‘t be sad, you should be happy that he found himself someone. Gaslighting yourself wouldn‘t change this situation much further. Because as much as a difficult conclusion that is, you fell in love with him. And now you lost him to someone else.

He laughed at the table—that warm laughter you knew so well, the kind that spilled from bad dad jokes, the kind that made your stomach ache with giggles. But you kept searching for his eyes, for their softness, for the light he once gave you. He avoided your gaze, and part of you was grateful because if you met his eyes now, everything would crumble. You'd unravel, a crying mess, right in front of your dad. And you hated yourself for it—for being so sensitive, for not moving on as quickly as he had.

While you tried your best to concentrate on eating, which consisted of only moving the food underneath fork left to right, you caught his eyes, from the corner of your eye. He was looking at you, watching, trying to get your attention? And there it was. Eye contact. You didn‘t burst out in tears, like you thought you would. You didn‘t even twitch with your eye. You felt it in your chest. A drop, then warmth spreading in you, goosebumps on your whole body. Cheeks flaming hot, just like the tip of your ears. You couldn‘t take this anymore.

„Excuse me, i‘m not hungry anymore“ You abruptly left the table, not even looking at the people before sprinting to your room.

Your press your back against the door, locking it and looking around your room.

Slumping onto your bed, limbs weak as your arms wrap around your body. The walls seem to close in, slowly suffocating you, leaving you alone with your own thoughts. And as your chest tightens you think of your mother. How she was your best friend. How you could tell her everything in the world and she would not judge you once, not question anything. Just listen to you.

The slow and painful realisation of being alone, makes you suddenly sob. Breaking free before you can even stop it. You press your face against your pillow, trying to muffle them but they come anyway, loud, ragged and shaking your whole frame. Memories of her voice haunt you, the way she gently laid her hand on your shoulder, her warm laugh filling the room. The sweet worried look she would give you whenever you feel bad about something. Nerve wrecking, helpless. You couldn‘t do much. You had to accept it and move on. The embarrassment, the fear that it would happen again.

And suddenly, there was a knock. And after asking three times over who it was, you sure knew it wasn‘t your father.

His brown eyes gently looked every inch of your face, his bottom lip quivering. He just stood there, looked at your red, crying face.

„Oh, babygirl.“ it slipped out. He didn‘t want to call you that. Heck— he didn‘t even want to come to your room in the first place.

And for a split moment you wanted to fall into his arms.

Bury your face into his chest and let yourself overcome with the comfort and warmth you haven‘t felt for months. But you didn‘t. You raised your hand slowly and without a brink in your eye, you slapped him across the face. A sudden, unexpected act that not only took him by complete surprise but also you.

„How do you have the fucking audacity to come here and call me babygirl?“

And Joel was just standing there. Like a fish out of water, mouth gaped open and not moving. The right side of his cheek slowly turning red, as you looked at him. Shocked, hurt and angry.

„I—I don‘t know.“ his voice was careful, like he is testing waters before talking. Not wanting to have another hit in his face. Yet his eyes were still full of worry, the bags under his eyes deeper than ever. You wondered if he also had sleepless nights.

„Why do you even show your face here? And with her! Did you not care for me just a little bit? Was I just a shoulder to cry on for you?“

„That‘s not what this is.“

Disbelief gripped you. The anger you felt inside was something that had been building up over these months. And you wanted to take it all out on him. Everything. Your father and his ability to make you feel useless. On the guilt that gnawed at you whenever you resented your mother for leaving you alone. On your friends—who, in the end, were never really friends at all.

He was just looking at you. Jaw tight, his hands shoved deep into his pockets as if he is holding himself up by force. There was no warmth in his eyes as you knew it, they were empty. A shallow vessel of a man was looking at you, while you desperately tried to hold into the one feeling he showed you. Love.

„then what is it?“ you step forward, almost daring him to flinch, to react, to prove that the man you love is somehow still in there.

Joel doesn‘t answer, looks away and tried to find the right words to answer you. But they never come. There is an uncomfortable silence between you two. One that you never experienced with him.

“You are such a coward“ you spit, voice breaking. Tears streaking down your face, landing on your mouth as you taste the saltiness.

„Please stop with the letters and calls. I‘m with her now. I don‘t want her to get uncomfortable.“

Wow. Every word that left his mouth hit you in the face like a brick. Your breath was gone and you wished you could crumble, crumble in front of him and disappear. You wanted to be held by the hands of your mother and lay down her chest, smell her. You wanted to cry out and sob. You wanted to slap him, kick him, scream into his face. But everything around you blurred together, the pain wrapped around your ribs, just tightening more and more as you looked into the face of a man you never knew.

You didn‘t know him. You apparently never did.

The feelings that he showed you, grief, anger and pain. All gone, once again being kept deep inside, he turned into that miserable man he was right after his daughter died. And maybe you realised, that‘s who he was. That‘s who he was always and the kindness, comfort, light you experienced was all in your head. He played you, so he could have you, then left you with a hole in your heart.

You watched silently as he left your room. Then, a couple minutes later, you watched from the window as he and his girlfriend walked to their car, packed their things in and got in.

He looked up, his eyes meeting yours one last time before he drove away.

You wished to disappear.

You wished to hate him.

You wished you could forget.

But knowing, cruelly, that you never will.

Fucking joel you little pos🫩😔

Chapter one! Chapter three!

Thank you so much for reading!!! as always, english isn‘t my first language—so feedback or any corrections of mistakes are appreciated!!!🫶🏻

Taglist:

@vickie5446 @a-goose-on-mars @thatgirlmendo @ihearttdilfs @pickyeater13 @sweetiegirl16 @keseqna @shivispunk @kyloispunk @meetmeatyourworst @joelmillerswife9 @iveseenstrangerthings50 @idrkman @vanishintoyoubby @dlwrish @brittmb115 @xcallmetaniax @umadirectioner @glitterspark @replaythatrayrae @bluekat707 @ccmoonshine @datgirl-audrey @lovelystrawberrysblog @heartpatch @sukivenue @valitagun @lizaispunk @bigeyesbabe @mystickittytaco @catalysmic @marisemonteiroo @nosebeers @ariundercovers @misguidedasgardian @neobangverse @lestatismo @aj0elap0l0gist @ur-fav-pixi @pedrofan @hhallefuckinglujahh @callmeafra @b1bbles @fallout-girl219

If I missed anybody then i‘m sorry, it‘s so many people and I completely lost overview of the taglist lmao😭😭😭

[imaginesbymonika]

Not a violent dog | Last Part

Pairing: Logan x fem!Reader

Plot: Back in Wade's world Logan meets someone he thought he would never ever see again.

Warnings: slight spoilers for Deadpool 3!!!! mentions of death, angst, cursing, fluff at the end if you squeeze your eyes at the screen, I haven't written in A WHILE so bear with me

Previous Part | Masterlist

For a while neither one of you says a single word. You both just gaze at the water, while your heart beats at an ungodly pace. You look and observe how the ducks are gliding - fast asleep.

"I'm sorry.", Logan eventually speaks out and you can feel how he looks at your side profile:" I'm sorry if me being here makes you uncomfortable." And you know he isn't talking about the bench, or what took place in the apartment.

You take a deep breath:" It's not your fault. I mean- It kinda is, but then again it's not." God, this whole situation was making you feel light-headed. A soft but low chuckle escapes him, and you could melt on the spot. " From what l've heard he was one hell of a dick- which feels on brand for me." You don't answer him. There is this lump forming in the center of your throat that won't let any noise leave your lips. "I'm sorry my other me did what he did.", he whispers, voice laced with honesty:" You didn't deserve that."

And that's all it takes for you to break into tears again.You hide your face in your hands and move forward until your elbows make contact with your knees.

You always knew that it would catch up on you one day-that he would catch up on you. Not in the flesh, but more like as a feeling. A noise or a scent. And Logan's heart breaks at the sight in front of him. Delicate but shaky small sobs escape your throat, and you just really really want everything to stop. "Hey.", Logan whispers again, while his hand hesitantly reaches out for you again. Only now it finds its way to your back and while it draws soothing loops on your back you inevitably lean into his touch.

After a few minutes, you slowly sit back up straight. Your hands lift to wipe your tears away and when you rotate to finally look at him you can catch a glimpse of the wet spots underneath his eyes. Looking at you with so much devotion, it's almost suffocating you. "I just don't know-", you simply say:" I don't know why he left the way he did."

"He-", Logan pauses for a second before licking his lips:" Wade told me that he got killed, right? I don't know much else about him, but he probably tried to shield you from those people. I know that's what I would've done." The last part is practically a whisper, and he probably said it primarily to himself, but you nonetheless heard it.

Your once angry eyes turn gentle:" Is there a version of-of me in your world?"

"Was.", the man in front of you quickly adds:" You died on a mission, right in my arms. There wasn't much anyone could've done for you, the mutant killing bullet hit your chest as if it was nothing.” , he takes a deep breath and looks into the chilly air. His eyes move from one star to the next:" I don't know much about your Logan, or any other Logan who exists out there- but I strongly believe that everything we do is to keep you safe. I mean... look at you." He moves his head to the side to peek at you, and a painful but cocky smile materializes on his features- so on brand:" I don't think there's one single universe out there in which you're not as gorgeous as you are right now."

You simply shake your head but can't help the blush that begins to lay over your cheeks. "I promise you, his last thought was probably your face." His words once again bring a new set of tears to your eyes and you swallow thickly:" And dying in your arms, God... I cannot imagine a better place." Logan chuckles softly while he wipes his eyes. He lowers his hands into his lap as you shift closer to take one of them into your own:" I know she wouldn't want you to blame yourself. I- I wouldn't want that."

"I'm not her, at least not entirely.", you begin and squeeze his much larger hand:" And this is probably such a strange thing to ask, but- but would you maybe like to grab a coffee with me sometime? Start over again?" Logan looks up and when you two meet eyes it's as if all air gets knocked out of his lungs. Because that's how his Y/N asked him out all those decades ago. He only nods and the hold on your hand tightens:" Yeah, l'd love that."

[yeuheart]

THINGS YOU EXPERIENCE WITH HIM

Notes: Finally got this out 🙏🏻

Meguru Bachira

Matching things is what you experience the most with him. Almost everything in your shared apartment or room is the matching half to his. He never gives up dressing up on Halloween either especially if he can match with you. He definitely chooses the food costumes cause he thinks it’s funny 😭. It’s cute though so it can pass. He takes a whole lot of pictures of you both but you swear he’s never had that “storage is full” notification pop up on his phone. (the 68k photos on his phone 🙏🏻)

Chigiri Hyoma

Playing with his hair or yours is what you experience with him. You’re probably one of the few people he let’s touch his hair, but it does make you feel special. He does ask that you be careful if you’re playing with his hair and he does the same if he’s playing with your hair too. Loves doing your hair if he has the time and doesn’t mind if you do his.

Itoshi Sae

Remembering things about you is what you experience with him. He probably doesn’t care to remember anything but what he deems important about his friends, acquaintances, etc. But to you he remembers the small things even if you don’t remember even saying those yourself. You’ve definitely been surprised with a gift from him with something you like even though u hardly remember mentioning it to him.

Itoshi Rin

Doing yoga together is what you experience with him. Honestly even if you aren’t a yoga person he still tells you that you’re free to join him. You probably pushed him while he was in position. Now he incorporates couples yoga into his routine if he knows that you’re gonna participate. Sometimes if you look over to him you can catch him gazing at you with a soft smile especially if he’s helping you with a position or if you’re taking a break. He’s also cautious of you falling, which makes him kinda strict.

Kunigami Rensuke

Going to the gym together is what you experience with him. Even if you don’t like going to the gym it makes you happy that you get to spend time with him. He offers to help you with reps or your routines. Definitely cautious when you’re there with him cause he doesn’t want you getting hurt, but he’s not strict. Ong like your N1 supporter in and out of the gym.

Mikage Reo

Zipping up your dress/putting your jewelry on for you is what you experience with him. You’ve definitely got lots of gifts from him, especially jewelry/clothes. But the thing is he really likes putting them on you more so you’re jewelry. There’s something so romantic about it that makes him like it. He offers to do it for you if he catches you picking the item of you’re choice. Definitely has gotten you something with his initials on it though.

Nagi Seishiro

Sleeping on each other is what you experience with him. Gosh having a 190cm man on top of you is definitely suffocating idk about you 😭. Honestly one of the most stubborn guys out there and won’t let you get up so he will literally just flop on top of you and fall asleep. But he also likes when you’re sleeping on top of him, you’re like a weighted blanket to him. It’s cute but after a while it gets kinda uncomfortable. The only time when you’re able to get up is probably if he moves in his sleep (he definitely does!)

Oliver Aiku

Couples massage is what you experience with him. I feel like he likes massages especially if it’s from you. He’s always hoping that you’ll let him spend a couple more just for the sauna so he can relax with you there. The sauna is such a relaxing place where he doesn’t have to worry about nothing except you. Really nothing else he’d rather do than that besides soccer. You guys r defo regulars at the place and it’s most definitely the best rated place.

Shidou Ryusei

Pillow fights is what you experience with him. It’s actually really fun but sometimes he takes it a bit too far and accidentally injures you. He does apologize and bandage you up though. He hits so hard tho it hurts so it eventually becomes a competition on who can hit the other the hardest with the pillow. You’ve definitely got the air knocked out of you a few times. Let’s you win sometimes though.

Hiori Yo

Him walking you home is what you experience with him. After school, work, etc he walks you home. He says even though walking is slower than a car he gets to spend more time with you. And he even gets you a drink on the way every time. Really loves when there’s a sunset and he’s walking you home because it sets the whole thing. The talks between you two during that are nice, you’re both mostly focused on each other, and how the presence of the other is relaxing.

[rosekeu]

soft like a bunny : r. sukuna

this is part 5!

a/n: highschool au, fem!reader, reader has braces, shy+nerdy+sensitive reader! [if you don't like that then leave ig lol] soft spot for reader ૮꒰ ˶• ༝ •˶꒱ა ♡ gosh i finally updated thisss hip hip HURRAY!!!

sypnosis: you get an unexpected warning from someone about your recent relations to sukuna.

[ part 1 ] [part 2] [ part 3 ] [ part 4 ] [ part 6 coming soon! ]

the next day at school was surprisingly quiet. all your classes ran as normal, maybe all of your bullies were intimidating now that you were associated with a delinquent like sukuna. you didn't think about it much, it didn't matter, did it?

as you entered your chemistry class you sat in your usual spot but you missed sukuna’s pestering. you can't deny it was annoying but it was the good kind of annoying that made you want more of it when he wasnt near.

so there you were, exhaling dramatically, your chin placed on the palm of your hand. as you think about what sukuna must be doing at his house. 

and then you remembered. 

he had invited you over. to his house.

you mentally facepalmed at the memory. how could you forget that? he’d casually mentioned it yesterday through text. a small smile tugged at the corners of your lips as you thought about it. you'd need to remind him to send you his address later. you weren’t sure what to expect, but you felt a flutter of excitement in your chest.

you were snapped out of your thoughts when a voice cut through your musings.

“hey.”

you blinked and turned to find naoya zenin sitting next to you. your stomach immediately dropped. 

of all people... naoya zenin?

he was the twins’ rude, misogynistic cousin. he’d barely acknowledged your existence ever.

even when you went over to maki and mai’s house for family gatherings, so why was he sitting next to you now?

naoya flashed a grin, clearly seeing your surprise, and before you could react, he leaned in closer. “don’t look so startled. i’m just here to talk. you’re... kinda cute, actually.”

you instinctively shrank back, cheeks flushing slightly as you awkwardly tugged at your sleeve, trying to avoid eye contact. “u-um... i-i don’t think we have anything to talk about…”

“yeah we do.” he teased, pushing a strand of your hair behind your ear. looking into your eyes with a fake warmth. “you and sukuna, huh? what’s that about?”

you furrowed your brows, confused. naoya wasn't a person who talked to just anyone, that was clear. he always acted as if he was above everyone else, and you figured that was one of the reasons why he avoided you at all cost. 

social suicide. 

you weren't popular— but you weren't hated, per say. you were just bullied…that's not that bad right?

“we’re lab partners—”

before you can say another word he puts his hand over your own mouth. “ah– don't lie. what was that shitshow yesterday? when he beat up those bullies?”

he paused, raising a brow as his eyes skimmed your figure. what did sukuna see in you? 

“for you? a little pipsqueak who can’t even stand up for herself? interesting," naoya's voice had a teasing, almost mocking edge to it now. his eyes narrowed as he leaned in even closer, his hand still hovering near your mouth.

you felt your breath catch, your nerves tightening. naoya’s presence was suffocating, and his words stung. your face flushed, both with embarrassment and the uncomfortable weight of his gaze on you. why was he doing this? it wasn’t like he ever cared about you before—why now?

"uh, excuse me, but i really don't think this is your business," you muttered, your voice softer than you intended but still firm. you pushed his hand away from your face, feeling your heart race. you didn’t know where this sudden surge of confidence was coming from, but you remembered the promise you made to yourself to stand up for yourself more. 

naoya chuckled, an evident smirk plastered onto his face. "oh? getting feisty now, huh?" he leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms as he studied you like you were some kind of puzzle he was determined to solve. "well, if you ask me, you don’t seem like the type to hang around someone like him."

“but you don't know me, naoya.” you speak truthfully. he talked as if he was your friend, but you both knew that was a lie. 

naoya chuckled, as if he were entertained by your words. "you’re cute i’ll give you that," he said, leaning back again, clearly enjoying the effect he had on you. "but you better be careful. people like sukuna don’t just take an interest in anyone. and the fact that you’re hanging around with him now? well, that’s just begging for trouble."

you couldn’t help but feel a knot form in your stomach at his words. sukuna had a reputation, sure, but did it really matter what others thought? wasn’t that the point of why he was different? he didn’t care about what others thought, and that was part of what made him… well, him.

before you could respond, the bell rang, signaling the start of class. naoya stood up, shooting you one last smirk before gathering his things.

 and his words keep a small space in your brain.

taglist!

@thepup356

@mahi-tamashi

(can't find the otehr taglist members lol)

[twistedheartsclub]

Falling into His Control: Powerful Yander X Fem Reader

WARNIG THIS STORY CONTAINS ABUSE AND MANPULATION DO NOT ENTER IF YOU DO NOT AGREE WITH THIS. There will be a PART TWO this is kinda long.... Enjoy

 Y/N had always kept to herself. Reserved, quiet, and independent, she moved through her world unnoticed, like a shadow in the corner of a room. But when she first laid eyes on him, everything shifted.

He was standing at the front of the gala, his presence almost suffocating in its intensity. The room seemed to part for him as he surveyed the crowd, his eyes dark, calculating—like a predator choosing its next meal. She hadn’t meant to look at him for long, but something about the way he held himself pulled her in. His tailored suit, the way his posture screamed power—it was impossible not to notice him.

She should have looked away, turned back to the conversation she was trying to have with her colleague. But she didn’t. And in that fleeting moment, he noticed her too.

"Excuse me," his voice, deep and smooth, cut through the noise of the party like a knife. Y/N turned to see him standing just a few feet away, his presence suddenly overwhelming. There was something unsettling about the way his gaze lingered on her, like he was seeing through her.

"May I have a word?" He didn’t ask, it was more of a command. His smile, cold and calculating, made her stomach tighten.

She nodded, too polite to refuse, despite every instinct screaming at her to walk away.

Y/N followed him down a quiet hallway, the noise of the gala fading behind them. She felt a mix of intrigue and unease swirling in her chest, the sharp contrast between his cold composure and her growing discomfort pressing on her. She couldn’t quite put her finger on it, but something about him made her heart race, her thoughts scatter.

They stopped in front of a large, arched window, the city lights shimmering in the distance. He turned toward her, his expression unreadable, but his gaze was sharp, like a predator studying its prey.

"You look out of place," he said, his words like velvet but sharp beneath. It wasn’t an insult—just an observation, one that made her stomach twist.

Y/N blinked, unsure how to respond. She wasn’t used to being noticed, much less by someone like him. "I—I’m just here for work," she stammered, the words awkward, not matching the weight of the moment.

He didn’t seem bothered by her uncertainty. In fact, he seemed intrigued. “Work,” he repeated, as if savoring the word. “You don’t strike me as someone who does what they’re told.”

Y/N felt an uncomfortable heat rise to her cheeks. She didn’t want to explain herself to him, but something about his presence made her feel small, vulnerable. She quickly tried to redirect. “I don’t understand why you wanted to speak to me.”

His lips curled slightly, not quite a smile, but something darker. “I’ve noticed you,” he said simply. “You’re different from the others here. You stand out. Quiet, but with a sharpness I think you hide well.”

She fidgeted, glancing down at her shoes. It felt like he was seeing too much, too deeply, and she had no way of hiding from it.

“I didn’t realize I was standing out,” she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper. She tried to look him in the eye, but his gaze held her captive, unyielding.

He leaned a bit closer, the air thickening around them. “Oh, you stand out,” he said softly, his voice low and almost teasing. “You just don’t know it yet.”

Y/N swallowed hard, her throat dry. There was something about him—his presence, his words—that made her feel both terrified and oddly... drawn to him.

She took a step back, hoping to regain control, but his eyes followed her every move, never blinking, never faltering.

He finally broke the silence, his voice colder now, more commanding. “You’ll find that when I want something, I get it. And I think I want you.”

Her breath hitched, a mixture of alarm and confusion clouding her mind. She couldn’t tell if he was being sincere or if this was some strange game. Either way, the way he spoke, with such certainty, sent a shiver down her spine.

“I’m not interested,” she said, her voice shaking slightly as she took another step back.

He watched her for a long moment, almost as if studying her. Then, without warning, he stepped forward, closing the distance she’d created. His gaze softened, but the weight of it was still there—dominant, possessive.

“You will be,” he murmured, his words almost like a promise.

Y/N’s heart pounded in her chest as she stood there, barely able to breathe under the weight of his words. His gaze was unwavering, and for a moment, she thought she might suffocate in the thick tension between them.

The quiet hum of the party seemed distant now, like they were in a world of their own, isolated from everyone else. She knew she had to leave, get away from him before things went further, but her legs felt heavy, like they were stuck in place.

“I really should go,” she said, her voice breaking the silence like a soft whisper. She turned her back to him, already feeling the weight of his presence pressing on her shoulders, but she had to escape.

He didn’t answer immediately. For a few seconds, the air between them felt charged, thick with unsaid words. Then, he stepped forward, his shoes echoing on the marble floor, and her breath caught in her throat as he placed a hand on her arm, his touch firm, but not forceful.

“No, not yet,” he said, his voice smooth, but there was an undeniable command to it. His fingers lightly brushed the fabric of her sleeve, sending a shiver down her spine. “We’re not finished here, Y/N.”

She froze, instinctively pulling away from his touch, but he didn’t let her go. His grip tightened just enough to keep her in place. The pressure on her arm wasn’t painful—it was controlling, calculated.

“I told you,” he continued, his voice softer now, like a secret being shared only between the two of them. “I noticed you the moment you walked in. You’re different. You can’t just walk away now.”

“I don’t want to stay,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper, a mixture of fear and stubbornness rising in her chest. She glanced around, looking for a way to break free, but the walls felt like they were closing in. She wanted to get away—she needed to.

He smiled then, a slow, almost predatory smile, his eyes gleaming with something that made her blood run cold.

“You don’t have a choice,” he said softly, but the weight of the words settled over her like a heavy blanket.

She jerked her arm away, her breath quickening, her mind racing with the need to escape. But he didn’t stop her. He let her go, watching her with an unreadable expression as she backed away, inching toward the door.

For a moment, she thought she might make it, the cool night air outside offering a fleeting sense of freedom. But just as she reached the door, he spoke again, his voice cutting through the silence like a blade.

“Don’t think you can run from this, Y/N,” he said, his voice low and quiet. “You’ll be back. I always get what I want.”

The words hung in the air as she fled, her heart pounding, her legs shaky as she stepped out into the cool night. The city lights seemed to blur around her, but the feeling of his eyes on her back—the heavy weight of his gaze—lingered long after she left the building.

A few days passed since that night, and Y/N tried to forget about him. She buried herself in work, surrounded by the chaos of her daily routine, hoping the unsettling encounter would fade from her mind. But it didn’t.

She found herself thinking about him more often than she cared to admit—the way his voice had held her captive, the dark intensity in his eyes. She couldn’t shake the memory of his words, the promise that he always got what he wanted. It lingered in her mind, a haunting refrain she couldn’t escape.

And then, the message came.

It was a simple text, a cold reminder that he was still there, still watching.

"I think it’s time we talk. I’ll send a car for you."

There was no question, no invitation. Just an expectation. He’d already taken control of the situation, even without her consent.

Y/N’s hands trembled as she stared at the message, her pulse quickening. She had every intention of ignoring it, of telling herself she was done with him. But deep down, she knew she couldn’t.

The next evening, she found herself slipping into the car he had arranged, the cold leather of the seat swallowing her whole. The driver didn’t speak a word as they drove, but she could feel the heaviness in the air, the unspoken anticipation that pressed against her chest.

When they arrived at his penthouse, Y/N hesitated at the door. Every instinct told her to turn around, to run, but she couldn’t. Not anymore. It was like she was tethered to him, and no matter how hard she tried to break free, she was pulled back in.

He greeted her at the door, his usual calm, collected demeanor unshaken. There was a flicker of something in his eyes—something that sent a chill down her spine—but he masked it quickly with a smile.

“Come in, Y/N,” he said, his voice smooth, almost too polite. “I’m glad you could make it.”

She stepped inside, the luxurious space surrounding her like a cage, its opulence only making her feel more small and insignificant.

“I didn’t ask for this,” she said quietly, her voice shaking. “I don’t want to be here.”

He stepped closer, his presence dominating the room. “You don’t need to ask for anything. I told you—I always get what I want.”

Before she could respond, he reached out, taking her hand in his, the contact firm and unyielding. His fingers were warm against her cold skin, and for a moment, she couldn’t pull away.

“You don’t have to like it,” he continued, his voice low and almost soothing. “But you will learn to accept it. Just like you’ll learn to accept me.”

Later that evening, after they’d talked, after he’d coaxed her into staying just a little longer, Y/N found herself sitting on the edge of the couch, her mind spinning. He hadn’t forced her to do anything—not yet. But his words, the way he looked at her, made her feel like she was already slipping.

She needed to leave. She needed to escape before things went any further, but each time she moved, he was right there—his shadow looming over her every step. His presence was overwhelming, suffocating.

At one point, he reached over to adjust the collar of her blouse, his fingers brushing against her skin. She flinched, but he didn’t let go. His grip tightened slightly, just enough to remind her of his power.

“I told you,” he whispered, his breath warm against her ear, “you belong to me now.”

Y/N’s breath hitched in her throat, and for a moment, she thought she might break down. But instead, she tried to pull away, to shake the feeling of being trapped.

“I don’t want to,” she whispered, her voice breaking.

“You don’t have a choice.” His words were soft, but there was a finality to them. “You’ll learn to want this. Trust me.”

Y/N shifted uncomfortably on the couch, her heart thundering in her chest as she tried to steady her breath. The weight of his presence was overwhelming, his every move calculated, like he knew exactly what effect he was having on her.

She should leave. She should stand up and walk out, just like she had the first time. But she didn’t.

He was sitting beside her now, much closer than she would have liked, the space between them shrinking with every passing second. His leg brushed against hers, and it sent an electric jolt through her body, making her freeze.

He must have felt her hesitation because a faint smile tugged at his lips, a knowing, almost predatory smile. “You’re not used to this, are you?” he asked softly, his voice smooth like velvet, but with an edge that sent a shiver down her spine.

“I don’t want this,” she replied, though her voice faltered slightly. She could feel the way her body responded to his closeness—how his scent, his warmth, seemed to pull her in despite her better judgment.

He leaned in just enough so that his breath brushed across her ear. “You don’t have to want it, Y/N,” he murmured, his voice hushed, almost intimate. “You just have to accept it.”

Her pulse quickened as his hand moved, brushing against her shoulder, a light touch, but it felt like it seared through her skin. She swallowed hard, her heart racing, but her body remained still, locked in place by his proximity.

“You’re trembling,” he observed, his gaze flicking to her face, watching her closely. “You’re afraid, but also… curious.”

She didn’t answer. She couldn’t. He was right, and it terrified her.

His fingers lightly traced the line of her jaw, his touch sending a wave of heat through her. Y/N tried to pull away, but the more she resisted, the closer he seemed to get. His hand gently cupped her chin, forcing her to look at him.

“Tell me,” he whispered, his lips barely an inch from hers, “do you feel it too? This connection?”

Her breath hitched, and her lips parted as if she were about to speak, but the words caught in her throat. The air between them was thick, charged with something neither of them had voiced yet.

He didn’t wait for her response. Instead, he leaned in, his lips brushing against her ear in a whisper so soft, it sent a shudder through her.

“I can make you feel things you’ve never felt before, Y/N,” he breathed. “And you’ll come to crave it.”

Her mind screamed at her to leave, but her body didn’t listen. His words wrapped around her like a vine, tightening, pulling her deeper into his web. She felt it then—the undeniable pull, the way his presence seemed to fill every inch of the room, demanding all of her attention.

When he finally pulled away, it was as if the space between them had shifted. There was no distance now, only the overwhelming feeling that she was exactly where he wanted her.

“You don’t need to answer now,” he said with a slight smirk, his eyes dark, heavy with unspoken promises. “But I’ll make you understand. In time.”

Y/N’s heart was still racing, her mind in turmoil. She wanted to fight, to stand up and leave, but the tension between them felt too consuming. She didn’t know what she was afraid of more: the part of her that was drawn to him or the part that was terrified of what that might mean.

The next few days felt like a blur, each one merging into the next, the memory of that night lingering in the back of Y/N's mind like a persistent, quiet ache. She tried to ignore it, to bury it beneath her daily routine, but she couldn’t. The thought of him—of his presence, his words, his touch—kept resurfacing, no matter how hard she tried to push it away.

Then, he contacted her again.

It wasn’t an invitation. It was another command, delivered through a text message that she could almost feel against her skin.

"I expect you for dinner tonight. 8 p.m. sharp. Don't be late."

Y/N stared at the screen, her heart sinking. She could feel the weight of his expectations, even through the simplicity of the message. He wasn’t asking. He was telling her.

She didn’t want to go. She really didn’t. But part of her—something deep inside her—was already preparing to do it, like she couldn’t escape the pull he had on her. She hated herself for it, but she found herself preparing for another evening with him, even though every fiber of her being screamed to walk away.

The evening arrived, and when she stepped into his penthouse, the familiar feeling of being trapped quickly returned. He was waiting for her, standing by the window with a glass of wine in his hand, his back to her. His posture was perfect, controlled, but when he turned to face her, his eyes immediately locked onto hers.

“You look beautiful tonight, Y/N,” he said, his voice smooth, almost too smooth. He took a step closer, his gaze never leaving her. “I’m glad you decided to join me.”

She managed a small smile, though it didn’t quite reach her eyes. “It’s not like I had much of a choice,” she said, her tone more biting than she intended, but it felt like the only way to keep some semblance of control.

His smile didn’t falter, but there was something cold in his eyes. “Of course you had a choice,” he replied, his voice still calm, but there was an underlying tension now, an edge. “You just chose to come. And I’m glad you did.”

The dinner itself was a blur of small talk, but the atmosphere was thick with unspoken tension. Every time their hands brushed or their eyes met across the table, it felt as though the air around them crackled with something dangerous.

As the evening wore on, she could feel herself slipping—just a little—into the rhythm of his world. The world where he controlled everything. She could see the subtle ways he tested her limits: the way his hand lingered too long on her back when he helped her to her seat, the way his fingers traced the rim of his glass, his eyes never leaving hers as if to remind her that he was always watching, always in control.

After dinner, they moved to the living room, and Y/N found herself sitting on the couch again, the same feeling of inevitability settling over her. She couldn’t escape it. She couldn’t even bring herself to try.

He sat beside her, just close enough that she could feel the heat of his body, the weight of his presence pressing in on her. His leg brushed hers again, and this time, she didn’t move away.

“You know, Y/N,” he said, his voice low and intimate, “it’s hard to get what I want when you resist me. I don’t like resistance.”

Y/N’s throat tightened, her pulse quickening. “I’m not resisting you,” she said, though she wasn’t sure if she was lying to him or herself. “I just don’t... understand why you’re doing this.”

He chuckled softly, the sound rich and dark. “You’ll understand soon enough,” he replied. His hand found hers, his fingers lightly brushing over hers as if testing the waters. When she didn’t pull away, he took it as an invitation, his grip tightening just enough to send a jolt of electricity through her.

“You’re already starting to give in,” he murmured, his voice like a dark promise. “You don’t even realize it.”

She didn’t answer. She couldn’t. Part of her wanted to argue, to fight back, but another part—the part that terrified her—wanted to stay, to see where this would go.

His eyes studied her, and for a moment, she saw something flicker in them—something dark, possessive, and all-consuming.

“I think,” he said, his voice almost a whisper now, “you’re just afraid of how much you need me.”

She didn’t respond, but deep down, she knew he was right. She was afraid. Afraid of the way he made her feel, afraid of the way he was slowly, methodically pulling her in.

And that, more than anything, terrified her.

The next few days were a blur. Y/N found herself returning to him again and again, against her better judgment, against her will. Each time, his grip tightened, subtly at first, then with more intent.

She started to notice it in the small things—how he always knew where she was, how his expectations grew each time they met. He’d begin to manipulate situations, making her feel as if she were the one in control, only to pull the rug out from under her when she least expected it.

Her phone was full of messages from him now. Short, cryptic texts that were more commands than anything else.

"Wear something nice tomorrow night. 8 p.m."

"Don't be late."

The next few days felt like a delicate balance, a constant tug-of-war between her growing fear of him and the undeniable pull she felt toward him. Y/N found herself caught between the desire to fight him and the part of her that had begun to crave his attention, his presence, as terrifying as it was.

She couldn't explain it, but she needed to see him. Every day felt like it stretched on forever, and when she finally received another message from him, it was like a tether pulling her back toward him.

"Wear something comfortable tomorrow. We’ll have dinner at my place."

There was no question in the text, no invitation. It was another order, another moment where she knew she had no choice but to comply. But as much as she hated herself for it, she didn’t question it. She just... went.

She stood in front of her closet, staring at the clothes before her. Her mind told her to choose something ordinary, something that would make her blend in, but her hands seemed to pick out the dress he’d complimented her on the last time. The soft fabric, the way it hugged her form—it was almost like she was preparing to give him what he wanted without even realizing it.

When she arrived at his penthouse that evening, her heart was pounding. She wasn’t sure if it was dread or anticipation, but she couldn’t deny that her body was reacting to him before he’d even touched her.

He greeted her at the door, that same cold, calculating smile on his lips. His gaze swept over her, a brief flicker of approval before it hardened again.

“You look beautiful,” he said, his voice low, almost admiring. “Now, come inside. Dinner’s ready.”

Dinner went as it always did—calm, controlled, his gaze never leaving her for too long. Y/N’s thoughts raced, her mind running in circles, but each time she tried to focus on her escape, she was drawn back to him. His presence was a force, a gravity that seemed to pull her closer with each passing moment.

After dinner, they moved to the living room. This time, he didn’t wait for her to sit. He gently guided her to the couch, his hand on her back, light but firm, like he had every right to be there, every right to touch her.

As she sat, he moved beside her, a fraction closer than before. Y/N tried to ignore the flutter of nerves in her stomach, the way her pulse quickened under his gaze. Her body was betraying her.

“Tell me something, Y/N,” he said suddenly, his tone soft but commanding. “What is it that you want?”

Her breath caught. The question seemed innocent, but she knew it wasn’t. He was testing her, trying to push her into a corner where her mind would give way to her body’s reactions.

“I want to leave,” she whispered, her voice shaky. It was the only truth she could hold onto, even though it was starting to feel like a lie.

He chuckled darkly. “You say that, but you’re still here, aren’t you? You came because you want to be here, deep down. You need to understand something, Y/N. I don’t give you what you want. I give you what you need.”

The way he said “need” was laden with meaning, heavy with his possessiveness, and for the first time, Y/N wasn’t sure she hated the sound of it. It made her heart race and her breath catch. The fact that she felt this way both terrified and excited her.

Before she could respond, his hand moved, brushing a strand of hair away from her face. His touch was light, but there was an underlying force to it, like he was staking his claim.

“You want to leave, but you won’t,” he murmured, his eyes darkening. “Not yet. You’re too scared of what’s out there, Y/N. You don’t know how to survive without me.”

The tension in the room thickened as the minutes dragged on. Y/N could feel her mind fighting, still trying to hold on to the illusion of freedom, but her body—her body was reacting to him in ways she couldn’t control.

“Let go,” he whispered, leaning in closer, his breath warm against her ear. “Stop fighting it. I’ll take care of you.”

The words made her shiver, and before she could even process what was happening, his hand was on her thigh, resting there with a surprising gentleness. It wasn’t the kind of touch she expected, not forceful, but possessive, like he was marking his territory.

Her breath quickened, and she tried to pull away, but something about the way his fingers brushed against her skin made it impossible to move.

“Why are you fighting me, Y/N?” he murmured, his lips so close to hers that she could feel his words. “I’m not asking for your obedience. I’m offering you peace. All you have to do is accept it.”

She could feel his control wrapping around her like a noose. Her thoughts became clouded, and the need to resist began to fade, replaced by a strange sense of longing—longing to feel safe in his grasp, even if that meant submitting to him.

Before she could make sense of it, he kissed her.

It wasn’t rough or forceful, but it was demanding in its own way. His lips were soft, persistent, as though he knew she was on the edge of breaking. And she was—so close to the edge. Every nerve in her body seemed to buzz, every cell calling out for him, even though her mind screamed for her to stop.

He pulled away just enough to look into her eyes. “Do you feel it, Y/N? The way you can’t get away from me, no matter how hard you try?”

Y/N’s heart raced, her breath coming in shallow gasps. She wanted to push him away, but a part of her didn’t want to. She couldn’t even remember why she should.

“I’m not asking you to love me,” he said softly, as if reading her mind. “I’m asking you to accept that I own you. You’ll come to realize that you can’t live without me. And when that happens, you’ll understand how much I’ve already given you.”

As the night continued, Y/N found herself slipping further. The war between her mind and body became more intense, but her body—her need for him—was starting to drown out the voice of resistance. The more he took control, the more she realized just how little control she had left.

Her thoughts turned muddled, and before she knew it, she was surrendering to him, not because she wanted to, but because she felt like there was no other way.

He was right. She couldn’t escape him. Not mentally, not emotionally. And with that realization, something in her cracked

Y/N found herself breathless, pinned beneath him, her body trembling not just from the closeness but from the weight of what was happening. His lips were a quiet promise, tracing over the sensitive skin of her collarbone, lingering in places that made her heart race and her chest tighten.

Every kiss, every touch felt deliberate. He wasn’t just kissing her—he was claiming her, marking her as his own, and she hated how much she wanted to let him. His lips traveled upward, pausing at the delicate curve of her throat, a soft bite to her skin that made her gasp.

"You’re mine now," he whispered, his voice dark, possessive.

The words should have repulsed her, should have ignited a spark of defiance deep within her, but instead, they sank into her bones, feeding into the part of her that was beginning to feel this weight of his control like an unshakable chain.

Her breath hitched as his hand slid lower, between her thighs, pressing in a way that sent a shock of heat through her body. She wanted to move, to push him away, but she was paralyzed by the overwhelming wave of desire and fear that rushed over her.

He smirked, sensing her hesitation, and with slow, measured movements, he positioned himself just above her, his weight pressing her into the bed as his hands continued their relentless journey.

“Don’t fight it,” he murmured, his lips brushing against her ear as he nipped at the soft flesh there. “You know this is what you need, Y/N. You know it’s what you want.”

Y/N’s pulse pounded in her ears, the internal battle intensifying. Every part of her wanted to scream, to push him away and regain control. But another part of her—something darker, something that she was starting to fear—wanted to give in.

The heat from his hand between her thighs was almost unbearable, his fingers pressing against the soft fabric of her clothing, teasing, testing her limits. She knew what he was doing. He wasn’t just touching her; he was breaking her down, step by step, making her feel small, powerless beneath him.

His eyes never left hers as he slowly pulled away the layers of clothing between them, each movement calculated and deliberate, a reminder that he was in control, that she wasn’t allowed to hide from him. The intensity in his gaze sent a shiver through her, and she could see the satisfaction in his eyes—he was getting exactly what he wanted.

"You can’t escape me, Y/N," he said softly, almost tenderly, his fingers now pressing into the sensitive skin of her inner thigh. "Not anymore."

A knot formed in her chest, part of her wanting to resist, to scream, but another part, one she didn’t want to acknowledge, wanted to give in completely. His touch was like a drug, and she was starting to feel addicted.

The fear mingled with a strange yearning, the desire to please him, to make the tension stop. It was the beginning of something darker, something she couldn’t undo.

The next few days were a whirlwind. Y/N barely had time to think, caught in a constant cycle of obedience and fear. He would send her messages, each one carefully crafted to make her feel as if she had some semblance of control. But the truth was, every choice she made felt like it had already been made for her.

"You’ll join me for dinner again tonight. Be ready at 7 p.m."

"I’ll expect you at my place tomorrow, no excuses."

Each text made her stomach tighten, and yet, there was a part of her that couldn’t resist. She wanted to go. She wanted to see him, even as she hated the way he made her feel.

But there was no room for defiance in his world. The moment she arrived at his penthouse, the cold, commanding air of authority would surround her again. She couldn’t escape it. Not now. Not after everything.

He was breaking her down in small, quiet ways. Each touch, each whispered command was another nail in the coffin of her independence.

It was a week later that he brought it up—his voice soft, but full of promise.

“You’ve been obedient, Y/N. And I’ve been patient. I think you’re ready to understand what this is really about.”

Y/N’s heart skipped a beat. She had no idea what he meant. “What... what do you mean?”

He didn’t answer immediately. Instead, he watched her, his gaze calculating. “You’re at a crossroads, Y/N. I know you’ve been fighting this, but it’s pointless. You belong to me now. But for your sake, I’ll make it easier for you.”

Her breath caught. “What do you want me to do?”

He took a deep breath, his tone serious, almost tender. “I want you to sign a contract. Three months. In exchange, I’ll provide for you—anything you want, anything you need. All you have to do is obey me.”

Y/N’s chest tightened at the suggestion. She didn’t want to sign anything, didn’t want to be trapped in another way. But something inside her—something that had been growing for days—told her she might not have a choice.

"I can’t do that," she whispered, her voice barely audible.

He leaned in, his fingers brushing lightly over her wrist. "You can. And you will. Because deep down, you know that you need this. You need me. And this contract is just the beginning."

Y/N felt the weight of his words sink into her. He was right—she needed him in ways she couldn’t even explain. But signing away her freedom, even temporarily? She wasn’t ready for that.

Still, she could feel the pressure building, like a quiet storm. The need to make him happy, to please him, was becoming too much to ignore.

The following evening, Y/N arrived at his penthouse, a sense of dread mixing with the strange need she had come to associate with him. He was waiting, of course, his presence filling the room like a storm cloud. He didn’t smile this time; there was no warmth in his expression. Just that cold, intense look.

"You’ve been testing me, Y/N," he said, his voice low and stern. "And I warned you what would happen if you tested me too far."

Her heart raced. "What do you mean?"

Without warning, he stepped toward her, his movements quick and decisive. He grabbed her wrist, his grip firm but not painful, pulling her toward the bedroom. “I don’t take kindly to resistance. You’ll learn that soon enough.”

Y/N froze, her mind spinning as he led her down the hall. But she didn’t try to pull away. She didn’t even fight. His presence was overwhelming, and a strange part of her—one she didn’t want to acknowledge—was already submitting to him.

The punishment wasn’t physical—not at first. He made her kneel before him, his gaze cold and commanding as he stood above her.

“I told you what would happen,” he said, his tone low and disappointed. “You didn’t obey. You disrespected me. And now, you’ll have to learn your place.”

Her heart thundered in her chest, but she stayed silent. He didn’t want her to speak; he wanted her to feel the weight of her disobedience without a word.

“You’re learning, Y/N,” he continued, his voice cold and calculating. “You’ll learn to crave my control. To need me.”

It was then, when he spoke those words, that Y/N felt a pang of panic in her chest. She was already beginning to crave his presence, his approval, even though it terrified her. She hated how much she needed him, how every part of her body responded to his power.

He walked around her slowly, as if inspecting his prize, before stopping in front of her. “I want you to understand this clearly, Y/N. There’s no escape now. You’re mine. And no matter what you do, you won’t be able to stop it. You’ll come to accept it—eventually.”

Y/N swallowed hard, her throat tight with fear and something else—something she didn’t want to name. But even as she fought to hold onto herself, to hold onto any semblance of defiance, a small voice inside her whispered the truth.

She did want to please him.

The next day, she was still reeling from the events of the night before, but when he called again, her body responded before her mind could protest. He wasn’t asking. He was commanding her again, and it felt almost natural to respond, even if she hated herself for it.

"Be here at 8 p.m.," the text read, and without thinking, she replied, "Yes."

When she arrived, he didn’t ask how she was. Instead, he gave her a small, almost imperceptible nod. "Good. You’re learning."

But Y/N wasn’t sure what she was learning anymore. She wasn’t sure if she was still fighting, or if she had already begun to lose.

His POV

He watched her, silent as always, her eyes downcast, her body tense. Every movement she made was an invitation for him to remind her who was in charge. His grip on her was invisible yet undeniable, tighter with every passing day.

He knew exactly what she needed before she did. It was all part of the game. The control. The slow, deliberate breaking of her defenses. He’d seen it before—those who fought him at first, those who resisted, only to end up craving his touch, his commands. She was no different, despite the fight in her eyes.

It was amusing to him, how she still thought she had a choice. How she still believed there was some escape from the life he was offering her.

“You’re mine,” he whispered, the words more of a reminder than a threat. He didn’t need to force her, not entirely. No, it was better this way—slow, methodical, like taming a wild animal. He didn’t break them with brute force, not immediately. He made them want it. He made them need it. And soon, Y/N would crave the need for him more than she hated it.

When he spoke to her, he was always careful. Always calculated. He never raised his voice, never showed anger, never gave her an excuse to rebel. Instead, he spoke in soft, controlled tones, guiding her step by step, always giving her the illusion that she was making the decision. The illusion that she could stop at any time.

But she couldn’t. Not anymore.

His plan was working, even if it took time. She was starting to question herself. To second-guess her instincts. Soon, she would no longer be the same Y/N. She would be his, completely. And he would ensure that every ounce of her resistance would fade into the background, replaced by something more... loyal.

Y/N’s POV

Y/N sat on the edge of the bed, her fingers nervously twisting in her lap. She could feel the weight of his gaze on her, and it unsettled her more than she cared to admit. He hadn’t said much since she entered the room, just watched her with that patient, calculating expression that made her feel small, as if she were under a microscope.

His voice broke the silence, low and steady. “I’ve been thinking, Y/N. You’ve been testing me again.”

Y/N tensed, but didn’t respond. She knew better than to argue. Not when he was in this mood. Not when he was speaking to her like she was a disobedient child who needed to be put back in line.

"You don’t understand the power I have over you, do you?" His tone wasn’t cruel, but there was something unsettlingly firm about it, like a man explaining a simple truth to a child.

She swallowed, her throat dry. “I understand,” she lied, lowering her eyes. She hated how her voice trembled, hated how much she wanted to avoid his gaze.

He leaned in, his presence filling the room as he moved closer, his fingers brushing against her cheek in a movement that was almost too gentle. "No, you don’t. Not yet."

His eyes locked onto hers, as though searching for the last ounce of resistance she had left. He was patient, more patient than she had ever imagined he could be. He understood how fear worked. How desire worked. How she would bend, slowly, piece by piece, until she could no longer tell where her own wants ended and his began.

"You think you’re still in control, Y/N," he continued, the words soothing, but the intent clear. "But you’re not. Not anymore. Every time you try to fight it, you’re only falling deeper into my grip."

Y/N’s heart pounded in her chest, but she refused to meet his gaze. The fear inside her swelled, but it was coupled with something else—something she didn’t want to acknowledge. It was a kind of longing, a sickly yearning that she tried so hard to push away.

"I’m doing this for you, Y/N," he murmured, his fingers now tracing the curve of her jawline. "You’re not ready to understand yet, but you will. You’ll see that everything I do is for your own good."

Her breath caught, her body betraying her even as her mind screamed for her to stop. Why was it so hard to fight him? Why was it so hard to remember why she needed to leave?

He watched the confusion and the inner turmoil flicker across her face, and a satisfied smirk tugged at the corner of his lips. This was the moment. This was where the real breakdown began.

“I’m not going to hurt you, Y/N,” he said, though there was an underlying promise of pain in his words. “Not in the way you think. I’m giving you what you need. The only thing you need to do is give in.”

The next evening, Y/N found herself alone with him again, a quiet tension hanging in the air. She had tried to ignore the nagging feeling in the pit of her stomach, the soft voice in the back of her mind telling her this was wrong. But the moment he spoke, that nagging voice fell silent.

“You’re afraid of me,” he said, leaning in close, his breath warm against her ear. “And you should be. But you’re also starting to understand what it feels like to give up that fear. To submit.”

Y/N’s eyes fluttered closed, her pulse quickening. She wanted to deny it, wanted to argue, but she couldn’t. He was right. The longer she stayed here, the more she found herself drawn to him, even when everything inside her screamed to escape.

He could see it in her eyes—the war raging within her. And he could also see the first cracks forming. She was no longer resisting him with everything she had. There was something in her gaze now, something that resembled longing.

“You’ll learn to need me, Y/N,” he murmured, his hands guiding her face to his. "You’ll see that this is the only place you belong."

She didn’t resist when he kissed her, the pressure of his lips, the way he commanded her body, taking over the last vestiges of her control. She hated herself for it. But there was no denying it anymore. She wanted to please him. She wanted to be his.

His POV:

He smiled to himself, watching her submit, feeling the shift in her. She had been so resistant, so full of defiance. But now, he could see it in her eyes—she was accepting it. She was beginning to need him. His control. His power.

This is only the beginning, he thought. She’ll be mine completely soon. And she’ll never want to leave.

His POV

He watched her work, a slight smile curling on his lips. She was always so efficient, so professional—so capable. But none of that mattered now. He couldn’t allow her to be this independent. He couldn’t let her be someone else’s.

She belonged to him, and he would make sure she understood that.

He was already planning it in his mind, the way he would approach the subject. He’d done it before with others—cutting off their connections to the world, isolating them from everything and everyone. It made them depend on him even more. And Y/N? She was so perfect. She was different, special. He could already see the cracks forming, and he would exploit every single one of them.

She would quit her job. He would make sure of it.

It wasn’t as though she needed it. She’d never have to worry about money again. He would provide for her, keep her safe, keep her close. She would be free of the mundane concerns of the world. She would be his, completely.

And when she resisted? When she hesitated? He would remind her who was in control.

Y/N’s POV

Y/N sat across from him at his penthouse, a pit of dread forming in her stomach. She had a feeling he’d been planning something—his gaze was too calculating, his silence too heavy.

She stared down at her hands, twisting nervously in her lap.

“You’ve been doing well, Y/N,” he said, his voice calm but carrying a weight she couldn’t ignore. “You’ve been obedient. You’ve learned your place. But now, it’s time for something more.”

Her pulse quickened. “What do you mean?”

He leaned back in his chair, his eyes never leaving hers. There was an almost possessive gleam in them. “I want you to quit your job.”

Y/N’s breath caught in her throat. “W-What?”

He didn’t flinch. “Quit. You won’t need it anymore. I’ll take care of everything. You’ll have everything you want, everything you need. You can focus on... other things. You can be with me.”

Y/N’s mind raced. She hadn’t expected this, not at all. It wasn’t as though she enjoyed her job, but it was a part of her life. It was her way of keeping her independence, of feeling like she had some control. But now... now he was taking that from her.

“I... I don’t know,” she whispered, her voice trembling. “I need my job. I don’t know what I’d do without it.”

He stood up, his gaze never wavering. He walked toward her slowly, each step deliberate, controlled. “You don’t need it. You think you do, but you don’t. You’ve been with me long enough to know that. All you need is me. And all you need to do is obey.”

Y/N felt the weight of his words settle into her chest. She wanted to protest, wanted to argue, but the words stuck in her throat. He was right. He had the power to take care of everything. And deep down, part of her wanted to. Part of her wanted to give in to him, to surrender the last of her autonomy.

“You’ll be a good little housewife, Y/N. You’ll stay home, you’ll look after the place, and you’ll be mine.” His voice dropped to a near whisper, but the command in it was undeniable. “You won’t need to work. You won’t need anything but me.”

The next morning, Y/N handed in her resignation. It felt surreal, almost like she was in a dream. As soon as the words left her mouth, a strange emptiness began to settle in. She’d never imagined this would happen, never thought she would give up so much.

But now, she was faced with the reality. She would no longer have her job, her purpose outside of him. And though she tried to push the guilt and the fear away, she knew it was a small piece of herself that she was losing. A piece she might never get back.

His POV

The moment she handed in her resignation, he knew she was finally his.

But there was something else. A small flicker of doubt in her eyes. A hint of resistance that wasn’t entirely gone. It angered him. Why wasn’t she falling in line like she should? Why didn’t she see that this was what was best for her?

He watched her all day, his eyes following her every move. Her every hesitation. Her every look of uncertainty. She was becoming more and more dependent on him, but it wasn’t enough. He needed her to be perfect. He needed her to be his in every way.

And then, he saw it—the way her eyes lingered on her phone, the way she seemed to respond to a text message. She was still thinking about the world outside. Still thinking about her old life.

That wasn’t acceptable.

He stood up, moving toward her quickly. His presence filled the room, suffocating. "You’re not allowed to contact anyone anymore. No friends. No family. You don’t need them. You only need me. Do you understand?"

Y/N flinched, the words cutting deep. But she nodded, unable to find her voice. He reached out, gripping her chin with a force that made her gasp.

“You’ve been good so far, Y/N,” he said, his voice low, but laced with venom. “But this... this is a test. I’m going to make sure you never forget who you belong to.”

As the days wore on, his jealousy grew more intense. He found himself growing increasingly irritated by the smallest things—when she would speak to someone else, when her eyes wandered, when she even seemed to consider leaving him.

It was a sickening feeling—possessiveness—he didn’t often show. But with her, it was different. She was his, and he couldn’t tolerate the thought of anyone else having a place in her life.

One evening, he came home to find her chatting with a man she had known before. He felt the simmering anger rise in his chest as he watched them laugh, talk too freely, share a bond that wasn’t his.

Without warning, he strode over to them, his tone sharp. “Is there a problem here, Y/N?” His voice was cold, every word laced with the weight of an impending punishment.

She froze, her eyes wide with fear. The man quickly excused himself, sensing the tension in the air.

He turned to her, his fury barely contained. “You think you can just talk to anyone? You think I’m going to let you entertain other men? Is that what you think your place is?”

Her heart raced as she scrambled to explain. “It’s not like that... He’s just a colleague from before.”

The explanation wasn’t enough. He didn’t care about the context. All he cared about was control. He stepped closer, his voice dangerously calm. “You will learn, Y/N. You will learn that you belong to me. And no one—not a single soul—is going to take you from me.”

The punishment that followed was swift and cruel, a reminder of what happened when she stepped out of line. His anger didn’t subside. It only grew with each passing day, the jealousy clawing at him more intensely.

Y/N was caught in a cycle—one of fear, dependence, and a twisted sense of affection. He would control every part of her, and she would bend until there was nothing left but him.

She was losing herself, piece by piece. But she couldn’t stop. She wasn’t sure if she even wanted to anymore.

Y/N’s POV

It was the first time in weeks she felt something close to normal. Sitting in a small, quiet café with her best friends, she felt the weight of his presence slowly lift, as if for the first time in forever, she was breathing without his suffocating influence hovering over her.

Her friends, Maria and Liz, noticed the tension in her shoulders, the hollow look in her eyes that she couldn’t hide anymore. They knew something was wrong. They’d always known, but now, they had proof.

Maria’s voice was soft, but her concern was undeniable. “Y/N, we’ve been trying to reach you. Why haven’t you been answering our calls? Are you okay?” Her eyes flicked to the dark marks on Y/N’s neck, the bruises that had become almost too familiar.

Y/N hesitated, her hands wrapped tightly around her coffee mug, trying to steady the tremble in her fingers. She opened her mouth, but the words got stuck. She couldn’t lie to them—she couldn’t pretend everything was fine anymore.

“I’m... I’m fine,” she whispered, but even to her own ears, it sounded hollow.

Liz reached across the table, grabbing her wrist gently. “Y/N, don’t lie to us. We know it’s not okay. We saw the marks on your neck... on your arms. We’re worried about you. You need to leave him.” There was a fire in Liz’s voice—an urgency that made Y/N’s heart twist.

Her breath caught, and she looked down, not wanting to meet their eyes. She hadn’t wanted anyone to see. She hadn’t wanted them to know what was happening behind closed doors. But it was becoming harder to hide. Every part of her was unraveling, and she knew it.

“You don’t deserve this, Y/N,” Maria said, her voice gentle, but firm. “This isn’t love. It’s control. You signed that contract for three months. It’s not permanent. You don’t have to stay.”

Y/N’s chest tightened at the mention of the contract. It was like a noose around her neck, a reminder that she had agreed to this. She hadn’t thought it would end like this, hadn’t anticipated how much it would change her.

“I—I don’t know if I can just leave him,” Y/N whispered, her voice breaking. “He... he’s different. He says he cares. He says he’s doing this for me. But...” She trailed off, her eyes welling up with tears.

Maria squeezed her hand. “That’s what abusers always say. You’re not trapped, Y/N. You have a way out. You don’t have to let him control you anymore.”

Liz nodded in agreement. “You deserve better than this. We’ll help you. We’ll do whatever it takes.”

The words hit Y/N hard, and for the first time in a long while, she felt a glimmer of hope. Maybe it wasn’t too late. Maybe there was a way out.

His POV

When he walked into the bedroom, something was wrong. The air was thick with tension, and the familiar scent of her perfume lingered, but something else—something far more alarming—was in the room.

He stopped in his tracks when he saw her, standing by the closet, hastily throwing clothes into a bag. His heart dropped, a feeling of dread taking over. His eyes darkened with fury as he stepped into the room.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” he demanded, his voice low and deadly calm.

Y/N froze, her back to him, as if she could pretend he wasn’t there. But he saw through it. She couldn’t hide anything from him. Not anymore.

“I... I’m leaving,” she said, her voice barely audible, but the words hung in the air like an accusation. Her hands trembled as she zipped the bag shut.

A wave of anger surged through him. He could feel his control slipping, his grip loosening. How dare she? How could she even think of leaving him after everything he’d done for her? After everything he had given her?

“No. You’re not,” he growled, his voice darker now, dripping with menace.

Y/N turned to face him, her eyes filled with fear, but there was something else—something fragile. Hope. It was small, but it was there. “Someone’s waiting for me,” she whispered, her voice cracking.

His eyes narrowed as he took a step toward her, fury boiling inside. “Someone?” His voice was dangerous, cold. “You think anyone else could take care of you the way I do? You think anyone else could love you the way I do?”

She flinched as he closed the distance between them, his presence overwhelming. She couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe under his gaze.

He grabbed her by the arm, pulling her close. “You belong to me, Y/N. I gave you everything. You owe me. You think I’d just let you walk out the door like this? After everything?”

Her body trembled, her knees buckling slightly under his grip. He was right. She knew that. She knew he would never let her go so easily.

But the thought of leaving, of having her life back—of being free—suddenly felt so real.

“Please,” she whispered, tears rolling down her cheeks, her voice barely a plea.

His face twisted in fury as he tightened his hold. “You’ll never leave me. You belong to me. No one else will ever have you.”

Y/N stood still, her heart racing, her mind torn. She had been so close to freedom, so close to an escape, but now, she was back in his grip. His cruelty was suffocating, and she could feel herself starting to crumble again under the weight of his obsession.

Y/N’s POV

Her heart was pounding, her chest rising and falling in desperate breaths as she stood there in front of him. The tension between them was palpable, suffocating, but there was something in her eyes—a flicker of determination, though hidden beneath layers of fear.

"I told you," he said, his voice dripping with rage, "You belong to me. You will stay with me." His grip on her arm tightened, pulling her closer as if she could somehow slip away from him. His face was a mask of fury, his eyes dark and cold, like a predator cornering its prey.

But she didn't back down this time. She stood her ground, trembling, but she was still standing. “I can’t do this anymore. I need to go. I want my life back. This—this isn’t love. It’s... it’s torture.”

His face contorted, rage flickering in his eyes. “Torture?” he spat, voice low and venomous. “You think you know what’s best for you? You think anyone else would want you like I do? You think anyone else would care for you? Keep you safe?”

Y/N’s vision blurred with tears, but her voice was steady. “I don’t need your... your protection. I don’t need you.” The words were soft but firm, like a declaration, like a lifeline.

Then, just as his anger reached its peak, the doorbell rang.

Her heart skipped a beat. She hadn’t expected anyone. He had never allowed anyone to interrupt their time alone, but the sound of the doorbell was like a small glimmer of hope. She felt her legs start to move, pulling her toward the door instinctively.

"Don't you dare—" He reached out for her, but she was quicker, her fingers gripping the doorknob.

Maria’s POV

Maria’s breath was shallow as she stood behind the door, her heart racing in her chest. She’d had no idea what kind of response they would get, but she wasn’t about to let her best friend fall any further under his control. Not this time.

When the door cracked open, she saw Y/N standing there, looking half-broken, her face pale, her eyes red-rimmed with exhaustion and fear. The bruises on her neck and wrists were barely hidden by her clothes, but it wasn’t just her physical state that alarmed Maria. It was the look on her face—the broken look of someone who didn’t know if they were even allowed to dream of freedom anymore.

“Y/N, let’s go,” Maria said softly, but urgently. “We’re leaving. Now.”

Y/N blinked, hesitating for a split second, but when her eyes met Maria’s, something shifted. There was a flicker of recognition, of something deeper. Maria wasn’t asking. She wasn’t pleading. She was offering her a way out, and that offer was enough to push Y/N toward the door.

She stepped forward, her feet unsteady as she stumbled into the hallway, away from the man she had been terrified of for so long. She didn't look back, but her chest ached as she thought about how much harder this was going to be than she ever imagined.

But Maria was already there, arms open, ready to take her hand and guide her into the light.

His POV

The seconds stretched, unbearable. He was frozen at the door as Y/N and Maria disappeared into the hallway. His mind screamed, rage clouding his thoughts.

She was leaving.

His heart began to pound, his hands clenched into fists at his sides. His entire body trembled with anger, with frustration, with a sickening sense of loss. She couldn’t do this. She couldn’t just walk away from him. Not after everything.

"NO!" he roared, stepping forward, but as he did, his phone buzzed. It was a text. His eyes narrowed as he read the message, and everything inside him went still. His lips curled into a cruel, sinister smile.

She thought she was free. She thought she could escape him.

But he wouldn’t let her go so easily.

He pressed the phone to his ear, his voice smooth and calculating. "Make sure she doesn’t get too far."

His POV

The phone call was short but effective. His instructions were clear. Y/N wouldn’t get away from him. He wasn’t done with her. She couldn’t just abandon him—not when he’d given her everything. No. She would return to him, whether she wanted to or not.

He stood in the middle of the room, seething. His mind raced through every possible way he could make her realize her place. There were consequences for disobedience, for trying to leave him. He would show her. He would remind her who had the power.

His eyes narrowed. He wasn’t going to lose her. Not like this.

He walked to the window, looking out over the city skyline. The night had fallen, but there was no peace. Not for him. Not for her.

No, she wasn’t going anywhere. Not now. Not ever.

Y/N’s POV

Y/N sat in the car, her eyes wide with fear and shock. The moment they left his apartment, she thought she’d finally be free. But even as they sped away, she could still feel the grip of his presence in her mind. His words echoed in her thoughts.

Her heart beat frantically in her chest as Maria drove, and Liz kept looking back at her, offering quiet words of reassurance. But Y/N could barely hear them. Her mind was spinning, her emotions a mix of fear, guilt, and... something else. Was this really what she wanted?

And then, as they turned a corner, a black car appeared behind them, its headlights cutting through the darkness like a predator hunting its prey.

Maria glanced into the rearview mirror. "We’re being followed."

The words were like a punch to Y/N’s gut. Her stomach churned, panic rising in her chest. “No... no, this can’t be happening. He can’t—he can’t be doing this.”

Liz turned around in the back seat, her expression hardening. “Don’t worry, we’ll lose him. We’ve got this.”

But Y/N wasn’t sure anymore. Was she ever truly free? Or had he always been watching, waiting for a moment like this?

Y/N’s POV

The world around Y/N seemed to blur. Her heart pounded in her chest as she looked out of the rearview mirror. The black car was still there, tailing them with unnerving precision. Her stomach churned, and a cold sweat broke out on her skin. She could feel it—his presence, like a dark cloud following her no matter how fast they drove.

Maria’s grip on the steering wheel tightened, her knuckles turning white. “We need to get off the main roads,” she muttered, her voice low, but Y/N could hear the panic under it. Liz, in the back seat, reached for Y/N’s hand, her fingers trembling.

“Don’t worry, Y/N. We’ll be fine. He won’t hurt you.”

But Y/N could hear the doubt in Liz's voice, too. She could feel it—the fear that was starting to settle in her bones. Was this it? Was she going to be caught again? She couldn’t let him have control over her again. She couldn’t go back to him.

But the car behind them was persistent. It wasn’t a coincidence. It was him.

Her mind raced with frantic thoughts. Why can’t I escape? Why is he always there?

"Maria, go faster!" she begged, her voice breaking. "We need to lose him. Please, just get away from him."

Maria didn’t answer, but she slammed the gas pedal harder, the car accelerating through the streets. The night air rushed in through the open windows, and Y/N’s heart threatened to explode as they weaved through the traffic. But the black car didn’t back off. It kept right behind them, no matter how much they tried to shake it.

Suddenly, the black car swerved around them, cutting them off and forcing Maria to slam on the brakes. The screech of tires echoed in the night, and the car came to a screeching halt. It was over. They were trapped.

Y/N’s breath caught in her throat as she looked at the driver’s side window. He was already there—standing, leaning against the car with that calm, sinister smile.

His POV

He stepped out of the car, his long, dark figure looming over the vehicle. He had known this would happen. He had always known she would try to leave him. But what she didn’t understand was that there was no running from him. Not anymore.

He had always been a step ahead, watching her every move. It wasn’t hard. She was a beautiful, delicate thing, and he’d made sure to keep an eye on her from every angle. She might have thought she could escape him, but she had only deluded herself.

With every passing second, his fury grew. But it wasn’t just fury—it was possessiveness. It was desperation. She was his, and she would understand that soon. He would make sure of it.

As the car doors opened, he approached them slowly, deliberately. His eyes locked onto Y/N’s, his gaze cold, calculating.

“You didn’t think you could just leave me, did you?” His voice was steady, but the dark edge in it was unmistakable. “You belong with me. You always have.”

Maria and Liz stepped out of the car, but they were no match for him. They might have thought they could protect her, but they were wrong. His eyes flicked to them briefly before returning to Y/N, who was frozen in place, her face pale with fear.

“You think you can hide behind them?” he asked softly, almost mockingly. “You can’t escape me. Not when you belong to me.”

Y/N’s throat constricted, her heart racing as his words settled in her mind. His voice was so certain, so sure. He was never going to let her go. Not now, not ever.

“You should have stayed, Y/N,” he continued, stepping closer, his eyes dark and filled with an intensity that made her stomach twist. “You should have known better than to test me. You were mine from the moment you signed that contract.”

Her mind was reeling. She couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think clearly. The suffocating weight of his presence, the way he seemed to loom over her, controlling her every move—it was too much.

But Maria’s voice snapped her out of her trance. “You’re wrong!” she shouted, her anger building. “She doesn’t belong to you. You can’t keep her locked away like this. You’re destroying her!”

He turned toward Maria, his expression hardening. “You should’ve stayed out of this. Now you’ve made a mistake.” He stepped forward, his eyes flicking over her before returning to Y/N.

Liz stepped forward too, a protective stance, but she was no match for him. “We won’t let you do this to her. We’re taking her with us.”

He smirked darkly, his lips curling. “You think you can take her from me? You really believe that? She’s mine, and she knows it.”

Y/N’s voice was barely above a whisper, but it carried through the air. “Please, let me go. I just want to live. I don’t want to be this anymore.”

He caught her gaze, his cold, possessive eyes locking onto hers. Slowly, deliberately, he walked toward her, his every movement measured. “No,” he said, voice low and dangerous. “You don’t get to decide that. Not anymore. You’re mine, Y/N. And I’ll make sure you never forget it.”

He reached for her arm, his grip strong, but she didn’t resist. She couldn’t. There was too much fear in her now. Too much of him. The years of manipulation had worn her down. She wanted to believe she could escape, but deep down, she knew better.

His POV

Back in his penthouse, he watched as Y/N stood before him, silent, her body rigid. She was broken, he could see it in the way her shoulders slumped, in the way she couldn’t meet his eyes. It was exactly what he wanted.

Her friends had tried to fight for her, to give her hope, but in the end, it didn’t matter. She was his. She would always be his.

He let out a slow breath, savoring the feeling of power, the weight of control settling over him. He had played his cards right. He knew what it took to break her, to make her realize her place.

“You’re not going anywhere,” he said again, his voice softer now, almost coaxing. “You belong here, with me. I’ve given you everything. And in return, you will never leave.”

Her silence was all the answer he needed. The hope she had held was gone, replaced by the realization that there was no escape. She wasn’t leaving. Not now. Not ever.

As he watched her, his expression softened just slightly—only enough for him to know that she could never defy him again. She had tried, but she was his, and he would make sure she stayed that way.

Y/N’s mind raced as she stared at the floor, the weight of the words sinking in. She couldn’t leave. She couldn’t run. She was trapped, locked in this cage of his making.

And deep down, something inside her whispered the terrifying truth—he had already won.

Y/N’s POV

The atmosphere in the penthouse had shifted. The once luxurious surroundings felt suffocating now, like the walls were closing in around her. Her every breath felt heavier, each step she took was weighed down by his presence. He watched her, eyes cold, calculating, as if he was studying her every move.

“You thought you could leave me,” he said, his voice low and controlled, but the anger simmering underneath was palpable. “Did you really think I’d let you go so easily?”

Y/N swallowed, trying to steady her nerves, but her hands shook uncontrollably. “I just… I just want my life back,” she whispered, her voice barely audible. “I want to be free.”

His lips curled into a cold smile, and for a moment, it sent a shiver down her spine. He stepped closer, his presence overwhelming, almost suffocating. “You don’t understand, Y/N. I gave you everything. I gave you safety, protection... love.” His fingers grazed her arm, sending a jolt of anxiety through her. “But now? Now, you’ve broken the rules.”

Y/N’s throat tightened. She wanted to speak, to beg him to understand, but the words wouldn’t come. She was scared, terrified that she had made a mistake by trying to break free. His hold on her was invisible but just as strong as any physical restraint.

“I don’t care about the life you think you want,” he continued, his voice growing colder. “You belong to me. And if you forget that again, there will be consequences.”

Y/N’s heart raced in her chest, her body tensing instinctively. She knew what he meant. She had felt it before—his coldness, the way he would twist her emotions until she felt helpless, lost. But this time, she had to stand her ground. She had to fight.

“I’m not your possession,” she whispered, the words almost choking her. “I’m not—”

He silenced her with a single gesture, raising his hand to stop her. His fingers brushed against her cheek in a movement that should have felt comforting, but instead, it was cold and unforgiving. “Don’t test me,” he warned, his voice low, like a growl. “You’re in no position to talk back. You’ve already made your choice.”

His words hit her like a blow, and for a moment, the room spun. She wanted to run, but the fear kept her rooted in place. He wasn’t just manipulating her—he was controlling her, breaking down every ounce of defiance she had left. Every attempt to regain her strength felt futile.

He took a step back, his eyes narrowing as if to assess her, like she was a puzzle he was trying to solve. “You’re not ready to learn your place yet, but you will be. I’ll make sure of that.”

His POV

He watched her—trembling, broken—like a piece of fragile glass he had carefully molded and manipulated into submission. His words had left her with nothing but doubt. Doubt in herself, doubt in her worth. That was the first step. That was where the control began.

He approached her again, slowly, deliberately. His presence was overwhelming. She flinched when he came closer, but it wasn’t just physical fear. She was scared of what he might take from her next. She had no idea what he was capable of, how far he would go to remind her that she belonged to him.

“You should be grateful,” he murmured softly, his voice dripping with mock affection. “I’m doing this for you. For us.”

Y/N didn’t answer, her eyes flickering down to the floor, too afraid to meet his gaze. That was what he wanted—her silence, her compliance. He wanted her to feel small, powerless, so that she would never question him again.

“You’re mine,” he continued, his voice tightening with cold certainty. “And if you forget that, I’ll make sure you remember. Every. Single. Time.”

He leaned in closer, his breath warm against her skin, but the words he whispered were anything but comforting. “Stay where you belong, Y/N. You’ll regret it if you don’t.”

Her eyes remained fixed on the floor, her body trembling. But he wasn’t done. He needed her to know. Needed her to feel the weight of his control pressing down on her every time she tried to defy him.

Y/N’s POV

Days had passed, but each one felt heavier than the last. The walls of the penthouse, once a symbol of luxury and safety, now felt like a prison. The opulent surroundings had become suffocating, and Y/N couldn’t shake the weight that pressed down on her chest. The nights were the worst, when she lay in bed, staring at the ceiling, her mind racing. She had tried to escape before, but the crushing reality that he always knew where she was, always had control, made every attempt seem futile.

She had no place to go anymore. The world outside felt distant, alien.

The whispers of freedom that Maria and Liz had given her, urging her to leave, had faded. She could still hear their voices—so full of hope, urging her to fight—but every time she tried to push them to the forefront of her mind, the image of him—his eyes—chilled her to the bone. His gaze was always on her, always watching, always reminding her that she had no choice. She was his.

The night was quiet, almost eerily so. She sat at the edge of the bed, her fingers nervously toying with the edge of the blanket. The silence stretched, heavy with expectation.

Then, the door opened, and he walked in.

She didn’t look up immediately. She couldn’t bring herself to face him. He had broken her down, piece by piece, until the defiance she once held seemed like a distant memory.

He closed the door behind him with a soft click, and she heard the familiar sound of his footsteps. His presence filled the room, suffocating her. She couldn’t breathe, not with him so close.

“You’re quiet tonight,” his voice was a low murmur, smooth, like he was savoring every word. “I don’t like it when you’re quiet, Y/N.”

Her heart began to race again, and she felt a cold sweat break out across her skin. She had learned the hard way that his words weren’t just words. They held weight—his weight. They demanded to be listened to, and if she didn’t comply, there were consequences.

Slowly, she lifted her gaze to meet his, the fear still evident in her eyes. He stood before her, watching her with that cold, calculating look she knew all too well.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, stepping closer, his tone deceptively soft. “You know I don’t like it when you shut me out.”

“I’m just tired,” she replied, her voice shaky. She hated how weak it sounded, but she couldn’t help it. She was tired, not just physically but emotionally. The weight of the contract, the control, the manipulation—everything was taking a toll on her.

His lips curled into a slow smile. It was a smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “Tired?” he repeated. “That’s not good enough, Y/N.”

Before she could react, he reached down and tilted her chin up so that she was forced to look at him. “You signed a contract with me. You belong to me, and you will act like it. Do you understand?”

Her throat constricted, but she nodded slowly, the act of submission so ingrained in her now that it came without thought.

“Good,” he said, his tone light, but she could hear the darkness beneath it. “Now, get up.”

She didn’t question him. She didn’t dare.

He guided her to her feet, his hands firm on her shoulders, and the coolness in his touch made her shiver. He pulled her into his chest, and for a brief moment, she could smell the familiar scent of his cologne. It used to comfort her, but now, it only made her feel trapped.

He tilted her head back, and his eyes locked onto hers. There was something dark in them—something possessive.

“You’re mine,” he whispered, his voice laced with intent. “You’re mine to shape. Mine to control.”

His hand slid down her arm, fingers brushing lightly against her skin. The sensation sent a tremor through her body, but it wasn’t from desire—it was from fear. She wanted to pull away, to scream, but she couldn’t. She was frozen.

He lifted her chin with a finger, forcing her to look up at him again. “You’ve been testing me, Y/N. And that doesn’t sit well with me.” His voice was barely above a whisper, but the menace behind it made her heart stop. “You think you can leave. You think you can walk away. But I won’t let you. I won’t.”

Her breath caught in her throat, and for a moment, she was paralyzed. He could see it in her eyes—the resistance was still there, even if it was buried deep. He would break it. Slowly. Piece by piece.

“You will never walk away from me,” he repeated, his hand sliding down her back, pulling her closer. “Not without me letting you.”

His POV

He could see it in her eyes—the faintest spark of defiance. It made his blood boil. She still thought she could escape him, still thought she could break free. But that wasn’t an option anymore. Not with him. Not after everything they’d been through.

Her resistance was fragile, like a cracked vase ready to shatter with the slightest touch. And tonight, he was going to shatter it.

“You’ll learn, Y/N,” he murmured against her ear, his voice low, filled with a dark satisfaction. “You’ll learn that there’s no way out. You’ll learn that you were never meant to leave.”

He felt her body stiffen, but she didn’t pull away. He took that as his victory.

“You’re mine, and that’s how it will always be,” he whispered, his lips brushing against her ear. “Now and forever.”

Her silence was all the confirmation he needed. She was breaking. And he would be the one to put her back together. The way he wanted her. He would make sure of it.

Y/N’s POV

The days after their confrontation felt like they had stretched into an eternity. The heaviness of his control was inescapable. She was exhausted—physically, mentally, and emotionally. His presence was everywhere, his rules, his demands, pressing down on her like a weight she couldn’t lift.

But tonight, it was different. She had been feeling off for a few days now—tired, nauseous, her body aching in ways it never had before. It was a subtle shift, like the world around her was slowly changing, and she couldn’t keep up. She tried to ignore it, tried to push it out of her mind, but the symptoms were becoming undeniable.

She sat at the vanity, staring at her reflection, wondering how much longer she could keep pretending. Pretending that everything was fine. Pretending that he wasn’t slowly breaking her down into something she didn’t recognize anymore.

She lifted her hand to her abdomen, instinctively. A soft touch, like a protective gesture. Her heart raced, her mind spinning with the thought. Could it be?

A knock on the door snapped her out of her thoughts.

“Y/N,” his voice came from the other side, smooth and dark as always. “I want you in the living room. Now.”

She swallowed hard, wiping away the moisture from her eyes before standing up. Every part of her wanted to refuse, to rebel, but she couldn’t. She had tried, and every time, it only led to more punishment. More control. More loss of herself.

What’s happening to me?

She walked into the living room, her steps slow, each one feeling heavier than the last. He was sitting in his usual chair, watching her with those cold, unblinking eyes. The ones that made her feel small, insignificant, as if she were nothing but a pawn in his twisted game.

“Sit,” he commanded, his voice low but firm.

She did, her body automatically obeying him, even as her mind screamed to fight back.

His eyes scanned her, studying her as if she were a puzzle he was trying to solve. The silence between them was thick, and she felt his gaze like a physical pressure on her skin.

“You’ve been... different lately,” he said, breaking the silence. “Tired. Distracted. Something’s wrong, isn’t it?”

Y/N swallowed, her throat dry, heart pounding. She didn’t know how to answer him. She didn’t want to lie, but she didn’t want to tell him the truth either. The thought of him knowing what was happening to her—the new life growing inside her—terrified her.

But he wasn’t an idiot. He knew something was wrong, and his eyes narrowed as he leaned forward, a dangerous glint flickering in his gaze.

“Tell me,” he ordered, his voice soft but laced with menace. “What’s wrong with you?”

She opened her mouth, but the words wouldn’t come. She couldn’t look him in the eyes. She couldn’t tell him. Not like this.

He rose from his chair, taking slow, deliberate steps toward her. He was like a predator, circling, sensing her weakness. He crouched in front of her, lifting her chin gently but firmly, forcing her to meet his gaze.

“You’re hiding something from me,” he murmured, his fingers brushing against her skin with a gentleness that made her blood run cold. “Don’t lie to me, Y/N.”

Her heart raced. Her breath was shallow. The truth hovered on the edge of her tongue, but she couldn’t say it. She didn’t want him to know. Not yet. But the pressure in her chest felt suffocating.

And then, it happened. The dizziness. The nausea. The realization that she couldn’t keep hiding this from him anymore.

“I—I think I’m pregnant,” she whispered, barely able to hear her own voice.

The words hung in the air between them, thick with fear and uncertainty. The moment they left her lips, she could see the change in his eyes. The slight narrowing of his pupils, the tightening of his jaw. There was something dangerous in the way he looked at her now. Something possessive.

His grip on her chin tightened, forcing her to stay locked in his gaze.

“Pregnant,” he repeated slowly, his voice a low growl. “You’re carrying my child.”

It wasn’t a question. It was a statement. And in that moment, she realized just how much control he now had over her. Over everything.

“I—” Y/N started, but he cut her off.

“You should’ve told me sooner,” he said, his tone dark with something almost like a growl. “But it doesn’t matter. You’re mine, Y/N. And now, you’re carrying my child. Do you understand what that means?”

She nodded, though her stomach turned at the thought. She didn’t want this. She didn’t want to be his forever, even though it felt like she had no choice. The weight of the situation—the pregnancy, the contract, everything—was crushing her.

“Good,” he said, his lips curling into a slow, possessive smile. “Now there’s no way out. You’ll never leave me. And I’ll make sure of it.”

His POV

The moment she spoke, he felt a thrill of satisfaction—almost a rush. It was more than just the fact that she was carrying his child. It was the fact that she couldn’t escape him now. She was bound to him in every way possible.

She was his. Forever.

He leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to her forehead, and then his voice dropped to a whisper. “You’ll learn, Y/N. No one can save you now. You’re mine—body, mind, and soul.”

She was trembling beneath him, and though she didn’t speak, he could feel her fear. It was the only thing keeping her tied to him, but soon, she would realize that it was the only thing she needed.

He smiled darkly to himself. She had no idea how much power she had just handed him.

[tinfoil-jones]

Gravity Falls: For Your Own Good, Ch.20

Summary: A few years after moving to Gravity Falls and having his lab built, Stanford Pines happens upon his estranged twin brother, Stanley. He mentally prepared himself to be suffocated by his brothers neediness all over again - what he wasn't prepared for was Stanley walking right past him like he didn't even notice him.

Rating: M for language, violence, and adult implications

Preface: Dialogue only, but some actions will be annotated for clarity. Cross-Posted on AO3 Here.

Believe it or not a large section of this chapter was actually one of the first things I wrote for this story, it was written out before the first chapter actually and I’ve been really excited to show it. This chapter is super long and has shifting perspectives.

This chapter also mirrors Ch.10. This is a long chapter.

First - Prev - Next

WARNING: T/W implications of past sexual assault. Implied past torture. Character death.

CH.20

“So you’re gonna show me that super off-limits study room?”

“Yes. I only ask that you keep an open mind, and please do not judge me.”

“Alright PhD, I’ll only judge you the normal amount.”

“Come inside.”

“-Woah- ahhh. You really like …Triangles, huh?”

“Stanley, you’re shaking.”

“It uh, it kinda makes me uncomfortable, not gonna to lie. Are you in a cult?”

“No. Come here, follow me to the mat in the center.”

“Okay…”

“Now, what do you think of this? Does it remind you of anything?”

“A newspaper clipping? Uh… That’s a pretty messed up car- oh, wait, yeah it does remind me of something.”

“What does it remind you of?”

“I used to have a car just like that. A red El Diablo.”

“And what happened to it?”

“...I don’t remember, actually. I’m trying to remember but it just makes my brain feel like it's on fire.”

“How did I not see this before…?”

“See what?”

“Stanley, when you were first traveling with Sanchez, were you sick at all?”

��Oh yeah, totally sick. I had this massive chest infection. Kept knocking the air mask off when I was delirious. If Rick didn’t constantly shoot me up with weird sci-fi drugs, it probably woulda killed me.”

“Don’t say things like that.”

“Where’re these questions coming from Doc?”

“I’ll explain soon, but I need to show you something else. Sit down on the floor.”

“Okay…?”

“I’m going to sit back-to-back with you. I need you to fall asleep.”

“You want me to… sleep?”

“Yes.”

“Doc, you know I got problems sleeping.”

“I doubt it will be a problem this time. I’m going to meditate, but I need you to sleep.”

“You’re not setting me up for some ritual sacrifice, right?”

“Do you trust me?”

“...”

“You don’t have to answer that. Either meditate or sleep, whichever comes first. But I’m going to meditate.”

“...Alright. But if you cut my heart out and sacrifice it to the math gods or whatever, I’m haunting you.”

(...)

“Stanley.”

“Huh? Where are we?”

“The dreamscape. Specifically, we are in your dreamscape. You could also call it the mindscape. It’s a metaphysical representation of your mind.”

“You can beam yourself into people's minds?”

“Within limitations, yes. If I were to do so when the person is awake, I could only access their surface thoughts and memories. If the person were asleep, I could go a bit deeper and see their dreams, but I wouldn’t be able to easily traverse, and some deeper, more unconscious memories can’t be accessed.”

“So… Ya brought me here? What for?”

“We can access your mind deeper. But I need your permission to do so.”

“You can un-bury all of my lost memories?”

“Yes, but I don’t want to force it. I want to help you… but I know this is painful; both not knowing, and knowing. Do you want to know your real past? Even if it meant you’d have to remember why you forgot it all in the first place?”

“...Yeah. I think- hey what’s that thing coming out of your chest? Is that a rope?”

“...Yes, how did you-”

“I think I have that same thing, hold on, lemme just-”

“You’ve never been here, how would you-.”

“See, same thing. Is it supposed to do something?”

*Ford in shock suddenly grabs at the severed ends of both ropes and tries desperately to push them back together, but the ends keep repelling each other like magnets with the same charge*

“Hey doc, I don’t think you’re gonna attach ‘em like that.”

“Why isn’t it working? It’s supposed to work. It needs to-.”

“Woah! Calm down, PhD. Aren’t we here to dig up the past?”

“Right, right. We’ll get back to that. Do I want to know why your mindscape resembles a gambling lounge?”

“I spent a lot of time in a place called Lottocron Nine before I was banned from it.”

(...)

“Have you been in my mind before?”

“...Yes, during one of your sessions with Fiddleford.”

“...What kind of session?”

“An interview.”

“Oh, thank god. So ya just… broke into my mind?”

“Stanley, I understand if you are feeling-.”

“That’s really cool.”

“...What? You’re not upset?”

“Pft, I’ve broken into houses, cars, shops, warehouses; and even the Infinetentiary, twice . A persons mind though? That’s hardcore.”

“You’re being awfully candid about your multidimensional adventures with Sanchez.”

“There’s no point in hiding it now. You learned the first time you went into my mind, didn’t ya? That's how you knew who I was talking about when I mentioned Rick.”

“You’re handling this rather well.”

“Doc, we’ve both seen some crazy shit. This dreamwalking stuff isn’t even in the top ten.”

(...)

“FORRESTER!”

“Catch you on the flipside, sucker!”

“God, I hated that guy.”

“That IRS agent… What’s his name?”

“Agent Powers, why?”

“Just putting a name to a face.”

(...)

“I don’t like remembering this.”

“Tell us where your boss is hiding, and maybe we’ll spare that ugly mug of yours.”

“You think anything you do is gonna be worse than what Jimmy will do to me if I rat her out? I’ll take my chances with your sleazy ass.”

“This ‘Jimmy’ is female?”

“Yeah. Jimmy Snakes is just a street name. Other bikers wouldn’t take her seriously if they knew from the bat she was a chick. Her real last name is Jiménez.”

“But the J is pronounced as a-”

“Yeah, but guess how everyone who doesn’t speak Spanish tries to pronounce it when they read it?”

“Tough talk, Alcatraz. But everyone's got a limit.”

*the gangster takes the lit cigarette out of his mouth and brings it closer to Stan*

“Yeah, we don’t needa see this.”

*the memory suddenly blacks out but a sizzling noise is still heard*

(...)

“Stanley, this is a pit memory. These are memories your unconscious mind has been hiding from you.”

“Do we just, ya know, jump in?”

“Yes. In a way, it is like the bottomless pit, we would fall back right where we started, or your mental defenses could forcefully-.”

“Screw that, I’m imagining stairs.”

“You can’t just imagine -”

“Violá. Stairs.”

“...”

“What? This is my mind, anything I can imagine should be possible, right?”

“It should not be this easy for you. It takes months of rigorous meditation to-.”

“Maybe it woulda been easier for you to control what's in your head if it wasn’t so far up your ass all the time.”

(...)

“I don’t remember this.”

“It’s the science fair incident I told you about.”

“This is all your fault, ya dumb machine!”

“And now you’re about to-...”

“Oh no. Oh no, no, what did I do?”

“Man, did I fuck up or what?”

“There. Alright. Good as new. Probably.”

“...Stanley. You- you didn’t ruin my machine on purpose?”

“I don’t see you anywhere, but it looks like it.”

“You only hit the table …”

“Does it matter? The results are the same.”

"Stanley, I haven't been honest with you about this incident. After this, yes we fell out, but our father overheard and-."

"And he kicked me out? Yeah, I know."

"You know?"

"Yeah... I think I always did. Just didn't wanna."

"But... I lied to you about it. I told you that you chose to leave."

"Dude. All I fuckin do is lie. I'm not feeling like being a hypocrite today."

"You're not mad at me? I turned my back on you!"

"Get in line, PhD. Rico outed me to the Aryan Brotherhood. Rick cheated on me with an Alien Hivemind. Jimmy chased me for fifty miles on the interstate on a flaming motorcycle trying to drag out my soul with bottles and chains. You got tired of my shit and told me to buzz off? Big deal!"

"I ruined your life..."

"I ruined my own life. It's kinda my thing, ya know."

(...)

“No- no. Oh, no. We can’t stay here, we need to leave.”

“This looks like the homeless shelter from Glass Shard Beach.”

“Hey- sir? Can ya help me with something?"

"Watcha need, kid?"

"I haven't been to one of these places before and its kinda-"

'Scary - no, I can't say that out loud. He'll think I'm being a baby.'

"It's kinda new to me. I heard there were phones here that don't charge ya?"

'I wanna call ma...'

"There sure is, just follow me."

"We need to leave."

"Stanley, what-?"

"We need to leave we can't stay here we need to-"

"This isn't- wait, what're ya d-? Hey!”

“Brats like you are too damn easy.”

“Back off you piece a-!”

WACK

“Why isn’t this memory blacking out, I’m trying to end it-.”

“Get offa me! Stop!”

“I don’t wanna remember this.”

“Stanley, I’m so sorry. I had no idea-.”

“Cry all you want, it won't help you.”

*the memory blacks out*

(...)

“...Do you want to talk about it?”

“ No. ”

“Okay. I won’t make you.”

“I think this pit over here is the one that… ya know, made me forget everything.”

“You are sure it’s this one?”

“There’s a giant neon sign over there that says ‘Do Not Enter: Everything is Worse’.”

“How considerate of your subconscious.”

“…I don’t think I can go any further. Go on without me.”

“Stanley-.”

“Stanford. I’m giving you permission to see that memory, whatever it is. I’m not going to kick you out of it. Just tell me what you saw after you get out, and we’ll go from there.”

“You are okay with that? Are you sure?”

“You asked me outside if I trusted ya. Here’s your answer.”

(...)

‘Moses, the fog’s getting pretty bad… can’t see shit’

‘Ain’t safe with all the curves ahead’

‘I should take a stop soon and wait for it to clear’

‘Huh? What’s up with my breaks?’

‘WHY ISN’T IT WORKING? WHY?’

‘He didn’t! That son of a-’ 

SCREECH

CRASH

Fwooosh!

‘Fuck! I gotta stay calm- I’ve gotten out of worse’

‘Ugh the smokes getting really thick-.’

‘Why isn’t the seat belt unbuckling? I don’t have a lotta time here.’

‘Where’s my strap cutter? Why isn’t it-!’

‘I’m really lightheaded…’

‘Can’t-’.

‘It’s too hot-.’

‘I’m trapped.’

‘I-I can’t breathe.’

*Stanley reaches up and pulls the picture of himself and Ford, which is on fire, off of the sun visor. It burns up into ash within his hands, which then start shaking*

"That was all I had... Now I have nothing. And I have nobody... I'm… alone."

‘I'm alone…’

‘I'm alone.’

*the memory suddenly blacks up, and then the scene changes and he’s looking at Rick Sanchez as he lies on the floor of his space cruiser. Ricks words are muffled at first*

'Where am I?'

'Who's this guy?'

'He tased me? Is this a cop?'

'Why was I in the woods?'

'Catatonic...?'

“This isn’t going anywhere. Can you tell me your name?”

'I'm alone' 

“It’s…? I... 'm alone . Wait. It’s- Stan.”

“Stan Malone huh? My name’s Rick Sanchez.”

(...)

“I do not understand… I suspected the car accident was the catalyst, but how did he escape? Did Sanchez rescue him and lie about it? What would he gain from that?”

“Nope!”

“Bill?”

“You know you can’t go anywhere without me, Fordsy.”

“Why did you wait until now to show yourself?”

“Dramatic entrance, of course!”

“...Right. Why doesn’t Stanley remember escaping his burning car?

“Because he didn’t. He died of smoke inhalation right there.”

“... What ?”

“Yeah. He died. Ironically, of suffocation. Isn’t that hilarious, Sixer? He used to suffocate you, and that ended up being the thing that killed him.”

“CIPHER! Whatever cruel joke you are trying to-.”

“Joke? I’m hurt Fordsy, I know when to be serious.”

“He didn’t die! We are in his mindscape! He’s asleep right behind me in the waking world!”

“Oh, Sixer… Your mommy was right when she said denial like this isn’t healthy.”

“STOP PLAYING THESE GAMES WITH ME BILL CIPHER.”

“Alright, alright. Here, let me give you a sneak peak of what happened between the scenes; he doesn’t remember, because it happened in his mindscape. So here’s my memory of what happened.”

“Your-?”

SNAP

(...)

“Hey there slick! Things getting too hot to handle?”

“What are you supposed to be?”

“Call me a guardian angel.” 

“Are all angels as geometric as you?”

“I took a form that would be comforting to you. I’m the symbol on the back of the money, you like money right?”

“Yeah.”

“Well there we go! I’m here to help you.”

“... Why?”

“I’m a friend of a friend. And that friend would very much hate it if you burnt to death here. Shake my hand and I can get you out.”

“What’s in it for you?”

“Like I said, friend of a friend. Just shake my hand. I’ll have temporary use of your body, and you’ll get to live.”

“I’d sooner chew up and spit out a gold chain before I fall for some Faustian bargain. No ones ever been nice to me in my entire life; there’s no reason my death would be any different. Leave me alone.”

“What about your family?”

“They won’t be surprised, there’s no way they didn’t see something like this coming. I’m surprised I lasted this long.”

“What about your brother? Your twin? You’re two halves of a whole - are you really going to leave him to live the rest of his life incomplete?”

“I’m the incomplete one, I failed by myself. But he can stand on his own.”

“Don’t you realize this will devastate him?”

“... I know it will.”

“Then why aren’t you taking this deal? Fordsy isn’t going to get over this. I know everything about him, and I’m telling you he never will. This will haunt him the rest of his natural life. The same way it would haunt you if he died.”

“If you’re such a Stanford expert, would he ever think I’d take a deathbed deal with a floating triangle in a top hat and fake eyelashes?”

“The eyelashes were a low blow. But, I’ll give it to you, slick; he does know you would never fall for flattery and trickery. But he’d also agonize why you’d give up like this.”

“There’s giving up, and there’s acceptance. Every decision I’ve ever made has led up to this. And most of them were the wrong ones. The consequences have caught up to me, and there’s nowhere to run anymore.”

“You’re choosing now of all times to accept the consequences of your actions?”

“Might as well, it’s the last chance I can.”

“You are going to die here. Stanley Romanoff Pines, if you don’t take a deal with me in the next minute you will die.”

“Guess I get one whole minute to reflect on everything huh?”

“And what would you reflect on?”

“If you’re really friends with my brother… if he ever asks about me for some reason, could you tell him that I love him?”

*a rope suddenly appears, with one end fading into Stanley’s chest. The other end appears to fade off into the distance*

“What’s this supposed to be?”

“Your twin bond with Sixer.”

“That’s a real thing, no shit?”

“Yes. It’s how I found you, actually. IQ was getting this sinking feeling of dread and didn’t know why, so I just followed it without telling him.”

“Does that mean he’ll feel it when-.”

“Yes.”

*Stanley looks at the rope before grabbing it with both hands, and pulling it in opposite directions until it’s broken into two. The end not connected to him disappears.*

“He doesn’t need to know what dying feels like.”

“...He doesn’t want you dead. He never hated you.”

“I know. But he doesn’t need to worry about supporting all of this dead weight. Ha! Get it? Dead weight! …Dead weight? It’s funny because I’m about to be dea-”

(...)

“-and he died exactly how he lived; making stupid jokes that no one but him finds funny- except for you, I can see even though you’re crying, you’re also trying really hard not to laugh .”

*Ford covers his face with his hands in grief*

“...That was a good one…”

“I waited for his heart to stop before I could take over - I can possess corpses you see, and for those fleeting minutes, he counted as one. I flexed just enough of my power to drag him out of his car - had to wait for that stuck seat belt to burn enough to rip - but all of that activity re-started his heart and brought him back, kicking me out of his body.

I had enough time to change some things - kept enough oxygen in his blood supply to prevent brain damage, deleted his fear of heights so he could climb out of the ravine, and rewired his optic nerves so he didn’t need glasses anymore - he wasn’t going to get any for himself anytime soon, he won’t need them until he gets cataracts at fifty-seven.

Anyways, that’s the real reason he was immune to that green cryptid; his worst nightmare was dying alone, and he already went through that.”

“...Why didn’t you tell me any of this?”

“You didn’t ask. Not me. Not anyone. Not even yourself.”

“...”

“You always pushed your thoughts of him into the corner of your mind, Sixer. In your journals, any mention of him you’d cross out or write in a code. I saved him because I know you care about him. I didn’t tell you what happened because you wanted him out of sight, and out of mind.”

“Bill!”

“It’s true, isn’t it? And look at that, he still made his way back to you. Either that twin bond was magnetically pulling him towards its broken half, or I left just enough of an impression on his mind that the weirdness of Gravity Falls drew him here.”

“You left an impression on my brothers mind?”

“It’s like when you crinkle paper, Sixer. You can try to smooth it out all you want, but there’s still going to be traces that something happened. There’s not pieces of me left in his mind, if that’s what you’re worried about. He didn’t make a deal with me, unlike you. He just picked up some of my tendencies. Definitely explains why he uses nicknames so much, doesn’t it?”

“This is my nightmare.”

“This is the dreamscape.”

“...Why did you repress his memories?”

“You think I did that? Sixer, he died . You don’t come back from that the same way you were before.”

“Then why would he still remember most of the last ten years of his life, but not being kicked out or his entire life before that?”

“Fordsy, you heard his last conscious thoughts, and those became a self-fulfilling prophecy. Before he passed out and then away, all he could focus on was how alone he felt. His brain did that thing all human brains tend to do; hid all the stuff that would hurt him more.”

“...No, he wouldn’t-.”

“Sixer. I know you can see the truth, you can’t hide your thoughts from me; why bother remembering himself, why bother remembering loving people when they didn’t bother to remember him, not even when he needed them the most?”

“...”

“Oh, goody, now you’re crying! Don’t worry, I know exactly what to do in situations like this. I don’t care if you don’t understand the reference, you’re not the one who’s supposed to.”

*Bill conjures up and then starts playing the Nightmare Realms smallest violin*

To be continued…

[antinousletmehit]

I was reading about young telegram and reader and I had an idea

So they are kinda similar in age right? And he doesn’t have any friends or at least not a lot

So Penelope at the beginning saw reader as a potential friend for him (antinous definitely didn’t use that to his advantage)

And they read a story together perhaps a horror story under on of the forced bonding sessions and they both got scared but to prideful to admitted

They both couldn’t sleep so they had a sleepover decided to guard each other they would jump at the smallest noises, shake a bit etc.

Then suddenly A LOUD CLANK

like something fell over they decided to investigate telemarketing had a shield and reader had a vase as her weapon- mind you this is the first time they are actually along all against a common foe

So it’s dark they can’t see a thing and they see a big shadow so out of fear reader throws the vase and they both ran back to their room and barricaded the door and just huddled under a blanket both crying until they fell asleep

The next they each went to their respected guardian (tintin and Penelope- they are both at the dining hall just at different tables obviously ) with tears in their eyes still scared, they both assume the worst and they just told them what happened (you can interpret their reactions however you like)

Just as they finished eurymachus or amphinomus with a bruised head and saying something like “the weirdest thing happened last night”

You decide the ending idk

YES JUST YES YES.

——

The flickering candlelight barely illuminated the aged pages of the horror book, casting eerie shadows on the walls of Telemachus’s room. Both he and y/n sat cross-legged on the bed, shoulders stiff, eyes glued to the words as the tension in the story built. “…and when the man turned around,” she read in a hushed, trembling voice, “he saw her standing there. Not alive. Not dead. But something… in between.”

Telemachus gulped audibly. “Maybe we should stop.”

“Oh? What she to ‘I’m not scared of a stupid book’?” Pandora teased, though her grip on the book had tightened.

“I’m not scared,” Telemachus insisted, shifting uncomfortably. “I just—” At that moment, a distant creak echoed from somewhere in the palace halls. Both of them froze. “…What was that?” He whispered.

She held her breath. “Probably just the wind.”

Another creak. Louder.

Slowly, their heads turned toward the darkened corner of the room. A massive, looming shadow stretched along the wall, shifting ever so slightly. She sucked in a sharp breath. “That’s not the wind.”

Without thinking, she grabbed the nearest object—an ornate vase—and hurled it straight at the figure.

SMASH!

The shadow jerked, letting out a loud, startled yelp. “RUN!” Telemachus shouted, and they both bolted out of the room, tripping over themselves as they dashed down the halls.

They didn’t stop until they reached Telemachus’s room. Scrambling inside, they slammed the door shut, barricading it with a chair and a small table before collapsing onto the bed. Shaking, they huddled beneath a thick blanket, gripping each other as their imaginations ran wild.

“We’re gonna die,” he whimpered.

“Shut up,” shehissed, eyes darting around the room. The silence was suffocating. The darkness felt endless.

“…You think the ghost is still out there?” He whispered.

“Obviously,” she muttered. “It saw us.”

“…You think it’ll come in?”

“I—” she swallowed. “Not if we stay under here.” And so, pressed together, wide eyed and trembling, they clung to each other in silence. At some point, exhaustion won over fear, and they both drifted into an uneasy sleep.

The Next Morning

Telemachus stomped into the main hall, his face pale, eyes red from lack of sleep. “Mother,” he croaked, “I need a new room.”

Meanwhile, she stormed straight into Antinous, still in her wrinkled nightclothes, her hair an absolute mess. “Antinous,” she sniffled, barely keeping it together, “I need a sword.”

Before either of them could explain themselves, Eurymachus strolled in, rubbing a large, dark bruise on his forehead. He looked completely bewildered. “The weirdest thing happened last night,” he muttered. “I was just walking, minding my business, when suddenly—” He gestured to his injured head. “Bam. A vase. Right to the face.”

There was a beat of silence.

Y/n and Telemachus exchanged a look.

Neither of them said a word.

[sepptember]

AUGGIIIEEEE hi im finally here for your event <3 i love this idea so muchhhh happy pride baby can i pleasse request

I wonder if you look both ways? — send this and I will write what FINALLY leads either you or character to confessing.

with #wlw mina ashido please heheheh (i've been thinking abt her so much i need to write more for her but yes thank u ily!!!!!!)

omg!! okay this is kinda lame im so sorry.

click here if youre interested in this event! :)

𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐟𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 & 𝐜𝐚𝐤𝐞 — Mina Ashido

#𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐒 — mentions of bad dates with men, men mentions in general, very cheesy and kinda cliche confession, casual mentions of Mina getting dressed & undressed (not sexual!).

You hear the jingling of keys and the lock of your door first, your head turning away from the movie you only paid half attention to so you can greet Mina.

When she enters, her fur coat dangling half off her shoulder as she huffs and nearly slams your door. Tell tale signs of a date gone wrong.

“Wanna talk about it?” You ask as she slides her feet out of her heels.

“Men are so dumb.” She starts, her annoyance simmering with each syllable. You immediately get up, helping her out of her jacket and hang it up as she continues her rant. “I mean, he was very handsome and very French and you'd think that would make him great. But he was so arrogant! He didn't even compliment me or pull out my chair. What happened to chivalry?!”

“I fear it was murdered long ago.” You sympathize, letting her drag you into her room.

“It is so stupid. He was very flirty, too. And not the fun kind of flirty, but the uncomfortable kind. I don't even feel bad leaving him with the dinner bill.”

You smile, watching her fumble with the zipper on her dress before pushing her hands away, replacing them with your own.

This was a familiar routine. You two have been close for years, comfortable enough to undress the other without any sort of uncomfortable air. It's happened on similar nights of dates, other times when one of you was too drunk to do anything at all.

“I'm sorry, babe.” You speak, helping her step out of her dress, her hand warm in your own for the second they touch. “Want to order in? Get a sweet treat?”

“You are a genius.” She grins at you from over her shoulder as she ruffles through the pajamas in her dresser. “I should've ordered some before I left. I am craving cake.”

“Cake it is.”

“Ugh, you're an angel. I could kiss you.” She says it casually, unaware of how it makes your heart stutter. She had a way of sweeping you off your feet like it was her favorite hobby. “You were watching a movie, yeah? Let's finish it. Ignore the horrors of man for the rest of the night.”

And for a second, it sounds like a lovely idea—curled up with the pretty girl, watching a boring movie and suppressing how deeply you long for her. But that's just it. You can't suppress it anymore.

“Mina.” You begin, seeing her slide into a silky pair of cheetah print sleep shorts that match her current tank top.

She hums, looking up at you with patience despite her terrible evening. You blink and the words are lost on you, only for a second. “You… you deserve so much more, you know. That guy was incredibly dumb, and so was that journalist guy from before who basically interviewed you the whole time. And you are, just, so beautiful.”

You feel lighter as you speak, feelings welcomed into the atmosphere instead of being suffocated inside your chest, buried so deep it was almost impossible to bring them back out until now.

“You deserve chivalry, and you are incredibly gentle and pretty and I don't think you really know how captivating you are. You are fun and energetic and it's like—like you open an entirely different door to life that I can't help but step through. And all these guys can't see it, but I can. I want to be the girl that takes you on a date and pulls out your chair for you and pays the bill without you having to storm out for it to happen.”

A heavy breath falls from you so quickly when you're done. You were so lost in your words you didn't even realize how close Mina is now, her frame mere inches from you, her amber eyes looking up into your own. She's so close it makes your breath catch.

“You think I'm beautiful?”

You breathe out a laugh, “Everyone thinks you're beautiful. Devastatingly so.”

“I don't think devastatingly is a word.”

“I don't care. I like you.”

She smiles, her hands lifting to your face. “I think you made that pretty clear, babe.” Her voice drops to a whisper, lightly teasing. “I like you too, though. Devastatingly so.”

You laugh at her mock, but relish in the way her face moves to meet yours.

constructive criticism is appreciated! reblogs are encouraged <3

[prudentseer]

etho down bad on his knees for joel after initially rejecting him but pride-and-prejudice-enemies-to-lovers-period-drama style

sorry i had to find someone who might(?) share the vision

Hold my hand when I say this anon but never be afraid to drop your takes into my inbox, I love to hear them regardless of whether or not I see the vision.

Fortunately for you however. I SEE THE VISION, I UNDERSTAND YOU.

The "fell first--fell harder" dynamic for boat boys fits SO WELL in my mind because of double life. Etho being wary of Joel, kinda sad that he's teamed with him and by the end he's right there with Joel in chanting "The ship burns everything burns". Also their dynamic in limited life where they were "exes"...they are enemies your honour. I call that character development.

In fact, I see the vision so much that I actually wrote something in a more arranged marriage, period drama-esc style a long while back. It's unfinished (and a bit out of order for context purposes) because historical fiction is not my specialty and I know it's not exactly what you asked for, but it's what I had and I thought I'd share a snippet (it's 1.2k words I don't think I can exactly call it that anymore) of it.

It was odd, really, how much love could feel like an obsession.

He expressed it as quietly as he possibly could in forehead kisses and small gifts; just so it didn't collect in his chest to claw at the confines and suffocate him. And it was probably dramatic to say but with the lack of air he felt around Joel it truly did feel as though if he didn't let some of it out of his heart, he'd explode.

Or even worse, he'd tell Joel how he really felt.

He'd gotten dangerously close on occasion after too many drinks by the fireplace or Joel dancing a step too close. But he didn't.

Because Joel didn't love him back.

And why would he? Etho had all but forbidden him from doing so.

This day had felt equal parts fast and agonizingly slow. But he had a feeling that a marriage he didn't agree to, with someone he barely liked, for power he couldn't have might have something to do with that.

Joel rests on the edge of the bed, one leg up and crossed on the mattress while the other dangled loosely over the edge. His tie hung loose around his neck and his shoes long kicked off but his suit still on. Etho leaned against the dresser across from him, arms folded and mouth pressed into a firm line. The grandfather clock ticking beside them. It had been three minutes and 29 seconds since they've entered their shared room and neither of them had spoken.

It was much easier to watch as time passed silently than it was to look at the person in his bed, the matching ring on his finger.

A heavy sigh startles him from his thoughts. "Listen, could you at least pretend to tolerate me?"

Etho blinks slowly. "I--"

"Don't say you have because how you've been acting like there's been a knife at your throat the entire day." Joel interrupts, running a hand through his hair. A nervous tick, something Etho noticed in the time they've spent together. "I've sent you three letters since we last saw each other; none of which you replied to, you were barely there for any of the planning process and when I see you for our actual wedding, you can't even look me in the eye."

"That's because--"

"Of what? Because I told you that I loved you?" Joel rolls his eyes. "God, excuse me for putting an effort to make it work with the man I've been betrothed to for over a year."

He remembers the day. They'd been exchanging letters weekly for several months at this point but it was only their third official time meeting in person. It was a nice day so they took a walk through Joel's garden and I instead of the flowers Etho noticed that there was this look in Joel's eye, a smile on his face and a certain tone in his voice...Joel didn't even need to tell him. He just knew. It made it extremely uncomfortable to see him again, that they both knew.

He glances down at the ring on his own finger before shaking his head.

"I'm never going to love you like you want me to."

"That's fine." Joel states, a small twitch in his face betraying his words. "I'll...I'll get over it eventually if it means you'll work with me."

Etho tilts his head. "Work with you?"

"You don't have to love me. You don't even have to like me or be friends with me..."

"But...?"

"But we're going to be a team." Joel finishes, pulling off his tie in one swift movement as he does. "This means you're going to sit next to me at gatherings, you're going to dance with me at least once when we're invited to balls, you'll eat one meal a day with me, you'll share a room with me and please for the love of God, at the very least don't look like you're going to throw up when you see me."

A compromise. A reasonable one.

"I can do that." Etho replies, as level as he can, straightening his own tie as he does. "On one condition."

"What?"

"You won't ever expect anything more."

He's being bitter and he knows it. Taking out his anger out on someone who doesn't deserve it, someone who didn't ask for this either. It's unlike him really, that he can't bring himself to care.

"You're not exactly making it difficult lad."

"Joel--"

"You have a deal."

Etho nods. "Then I'll play the part."

"You'll play the part *well*."

"I promise."

Etho didn't remember exactly when it stopped being a show to him.

"Really interesting page?"

Etho blinks himself back into reality, Joel staring at him so intently from his side of the bed that he feels his chest tighten. "What?"

Joel chuckles, rubbing his eyes sleepily before shuffling close enough that Etho can wrap an arm around his shoulder. And he does, squeezing it lightly as his arm curls around.

"You've been staring at this page blankly for the past ten minutes." Etho glances at the grandfather clock in the corner. It's been longer. "You don't have to read the book if you don't like it."

This book was Joel's recommendation and Etho had to admit that it was good, he'd just been...very distracted lately.

"No I like it's just..."

"Yeah?" He smiles, head bumping Etho's shoulder. It burns. Every touch Joel gives him feels like fire has been set to his veins. "What's wrong?"

And his eyes are staring up at him so soft and kind and warm and understanding and it feels like he can tell him anything. Almost anything. The words feel heavy on his tongue, going down like oil as he swallows them.

"Nothing, you should go back to sleep."

He won't be able to resist forever but he buys himself one more day.

Joel's nose wrinkles. "You--"

And Etho is saved by the fact Joel's interrupted by his own yawn.

"You know I'm not stupid right Etho?" Joel states, settling further into Etho's arm as he does. Etho only pulls the sheet tighter. "You've been weirder than usual and if you won't tell me, I'll figure it out myself."

Theoretically, he could tell him but what then? He wouldn't leave, he wouldn't laugh but if Joel knew what Etho felt for him, he would never let him get this close to him again.

And it'd exactly what he deserved.

Karma for being an asshole to someone who just wanted to not be treated like dirt by his husband of circumstance and all he can do is accept it. Accept that he missed his chance.

Maybe one day his heart will catch up with his brain.

"Goodnight Joel."

"I'm serious." He yawns again, head tucked into the crook of Etho neck; breath tickling his clavicle. "I know you better than you like. Just wait."

It's true and it's even scary sometimes. Etho wonders how on earth he got so lucky to have someone that understands him like Joel. Someone who was willing to stick by his side through everything.

Etho waits until Joel is settled, snoring softly again before he places his book down gently on the nightstand, blowing out the table side candle. He tilts his head and presses a soft kiss to the top of Joel's head, waiting in case he stirs.

"I love you." He whispers into his hair, taking a breath when there's no response.

And the part of his chest settles just enough that he feels like he can sleep too.

[sturn-wrld]

🪼secrets

pairing: matt x reader

summary: where reader and matt think that nick and chris have left the house

genre: SMUT!!! if that makes you uncomfortable dni!

warnings: head (fem receiving) that's about it

a/n: day 3 of smutmas. kinda love this tbh.

masterlist

---------------------------------------------------------

you had been friends with the triplets since almost the day they moved to LA. but that was the day you and matt also started your rendezvous. for the last year you and matt had been secretly hooking up.

you guys never did it when his brothers were in the house out of fear of being caught. there is no reason why the other two wouldn't want you two to be doing this except for it happening in their house but you were scared of them not liking for a different reason.

you were currently driving to the triplets place when matt suddenly calls you. you answer not knowing what this could be about.

"hi beautiful"

"hello matthew"

"damn the full name. anyways i'm excited for you to come over"

"matt are your brothers home?"

"right now yes but they have already said they want to go get food when you come over"

"okay. good. talk to you in like 5 minutes" i try to finish the call

"but i want to talk now"

"and i want to drive"

"fine okay drive safely baby. see you soon"

"see you soon"

you are now walking into the triplets house towards their kitchen where they all happen to be. "so y/n is coming over right?" nick asks as i walk over "already here" i say interrupting matt before he could answer the question "y/n i missed you" nick says embracing me in a long hug "i feel like it's been forever since i saw you last" i finished with before chris takes me in an evenly suffocating hug before i walk over to matt to hug him. "i'm going to go put my bag down and i'll be right back" i say heading towards matt's room. "nick and I are about to head out to mcdonald's if you want anything" i contemplate the many options in offer at mcdonald's before deciding against getting anything.

as your about to leave matt's room, he walks in. "they just left" he says giving you his seductive eyes, waking you towards his bed before he starts passionately kissing you. "i missed this" you said in between kisses "me too" he says pushing you onto his bed resuming the make out. he slowly starts kissing down your neck to your sweet spot before sucking it. "can i take this off?" he says slowly tugging at your shirt "yes" you lowly whisper out not capable of anything else. after pulling your shirt off he pulls his off throwing both across the room somewhere. he slowly takes your bra off as he moves his way down your stomach towards your sweatpants. he continues to kiss your lower stomach as he slowly pulls down your sweats to reveal that you're not wearing panties. "you wanted this didn't you?" he says looking up at you discovering your real reason to come over. "maybe" you say in a the way that drives him crazy.

he starts to suck at your clit as you starting moaning out. suddenly nick barges in "i forgot my- ahhhh" he says before slamming the door behind him. you both stop out of utter shock. you look at each other before scrambling to get dressed and go apologise to nick. you walk into the kitchen where both nick and chris were waiting.

"look at you bro getting pussy" chris says putting his hand up for a high five, matt looking unamused "not right now chris, later" he says chris lower his hand, a frown covering his face "nick i am so so sorry you had to see that, we shouldn't be doing it at all, let alone in the house. i don't want this to ruin the friendship or make things weird" you say genuinely sorry not wanting to loose some of your best friendships. "y/n, it's fine. you guys are adults your allowed to do things like that and i had a suspicion anyway" nick says like it was almost a fact "WHAT?" matt yells not believing his ears "you had a suspicion that y/n and i were fucking and didn't think to mention anything?" matt says absolutely gobsmacked not knowing what his brother was going to say next "well at first i thought you guys were dating but then you guys weren't attached enough but the amount of times you or y/n wanted to stay home or go somewhere because the other was just for you two to be separated when chris or i saw you next was ridiculous" matt and i look at each other shocked not knowing we were being so obvious. "and then i told chris because i thought i was crazy but he said he thought the same thing" matt and i look at chris.

"next time make the secret hookups more secret"

taglist

@ermdontmindthisaccount @its-jennarose @ilovemattsturn

[funeralpartyclown]

dale has got to have insane kinks…… like this man is going to want to have cameras on you and shove random shit up you and make you say weird stuff to him . I LOVE HIM I CANT

SO TRUE…

Sorry if this is too much for you guys im just writing anything I think of 😭 pls lmk if it gets to be too much,,

I think he would be into a lot of worse stuff. Blood, knife play, bondage (unsafe probably) corruption, marking you up, age gaps (LEGALLY. Not that kinda freaky)

Cameras for sure, he’d love that. Pull your hair and force you to look right at it while he rams into you from behind. The way it makes it feel so much dirtier, his own personal pornstar. He’d watch them over CONSTANTLY and make you watch too while whispering filthy things into your ear.

Random stuff in you, I can see that. I imagine him having very few limits,, as much as I do love him. You cannot look at a picture of him and go yeah that’s a regular guy. He is into anything and everything fucked up and weird. If you’d let him do that he’d abuse the opportunity and just see what he can fit up there for fun and you’re probably ending up injured or with an infection to be honest..

Making you say weird stuff,, I can see too but it would probably be realll fucked up with him. He knows exactly how to make you uncomfortable and what gets you flustered and hes forcing you to repeat the nastiest things he can think of just to watch your face flush in red, stumbling with your words.

I think he’d really enjoy wax play too and he had plenty of candles. Idk if this is true because I wasn’t paying attention to it but I’ve seen people say the gun Lee has at the end of the movie isn’t hers, and was probably dales. Gun play…. With Dale… cold metal being slowly dragged across your skin. Loaded pressed to your temple safety off. Fucking you with the barrel, finger on the trigger, better sit still for him.

Size difference for sure, which is great for him because hes huge. The one shot of him and Lee from the side in the interrogation room where hes slouching and his legs are bent but hes still SO much larger than her? I need him to lay on top of me and suffocate me.

I think he’d enjoy making his partner cry (only during anything sexual) just watching you squirm and beg incoherently with tears running down your face, listening to your voice crack.

Marking up for sure, especially if afterwards he can make up an excuse to drag you out in public and show it off. In most longlegs fanfics it takes place in a small middle of nowhere town, he’d love risking your friends and family having to see you not only with him but covered in a painting of bruises and indents. No shame no restraint no respect for others comfort or social norms. He’s being awful in public, and with most of the fandom from what I’ve seen being like early 20s-30s the age gap would be VERY visible.

One sweeter thing I think he’d especially enjoy, have you in top for specific reasons. He’d be used to the treatment he gets from most people by now and have a hard time believing you actually want him, he needs a lot of reassurance. Esp if you initiate things, having you on top would have him in tears. Facing him, nails digging into his clothes, hot breath on his neck, repeatedly making the effort to bring him closer to you. Every sweet second you spend moving on top of him is just more confirmation to him that you want and need him.

Non-sexual but, I think he’d really like to do things for you as well. Having you need him, reaching things off a shelf, opening containers, lifting something heavy.

Bdsm, bondage, whips, paddles, restraints, all of it anything you ask hes okay with trying. If you’re really vanilla, good luck I don’t see him being able to adhere to that. If you reciprocate his feelings it will take very little time for him to feel serious about your relationship and he looks at you almost like his property, though that extends both ways. He’s just assuming you’re okay with whatever he wants, because he’d do the same for you. I think at first he’d ask if you’re okay with it before trying something but eventually he just does what he wants and waits for your reaction.

[regionalcinnabonmanager]

“You wouldn’t have a key to this random door, would you?” 

Flufftober 14: locked in/trapped

You and Leon are stuck in a storage closet at the DSO's headquarters. One problem: You're claustrophobic.

fluff, (obvi) second person pov, gn reader, idiots in love, mutual pining, leon is awkward at feelings, he is also a major simp for you, written with re4 leon in mind but can be read as any, let me know if i need more tags. i don’t think it needs much? NOT PROOFREAD.

word count: 2.1k

i fell in love with leon and subsequently hopped on the fluff train, now i'm writing this nonsense fic. rationale is,, not optimum rn but thats fine, uhh enjoy, simps.

--

“Ow-!” Leon winced in response to you stepping on his foot by accident. 

“Sorry!” You took your foot off of Leon’s as you tried to look for that damn battery pack Hunnigan told you and Leon to look for, struggling greatly to find it as you shined your flashlight in various directions, trying to find it. 

A blackout had happened at the DSO. Those usually never happen at HQ, due to there being backup generators during city-wide blackouts, but apparently, some idiot electrician fixing something down there had screwed up and caused all the lights at HQ to go bye-bye.

So now you were stuck in a dark, small, storage room only big enough for two people to freely move around in, looking for a spare battery pack for people’s flashlights. 

“Found it yet?” Leon asked, shining his flashlight at the storage racks filled with various chemicals and cleaning supplies. You scoffed in response.

“If I did, I’d be grabbing the thing and getting out of this damn room ASAP. Starting to get really uncomfortable here..” You replied with snark, spotting the battery pack a little bit after. With a feeling of accomplishment, you took it. “Found it.” You turned around and held it up, shining your flashlight upwards.

“Good, let’s get out of here and get it to Hunnigan. Still don’t know why she made us do this..” He sighs, hand reaching out to turn the lever door knob. 

As he does so, the door knob falls to the floor with a clatter. Leon picks it back up and tries to reattach the piece of metal, but fails; and it falls to the floor again. 

Silence envelops the room as the two of you stare at the door knob for a few seconds… and then slowly, your eyes meet each other’s. 

Shit.

“What did you do!?” You were the first to break the silence with an exasperated remark, questioning how the fuck Leon managed to break the doorknob.

“I didn’t do anything! The knob just.. broke.” He replies, equally as confused as you are. 

Oh shit, this was your worst nightmare put into words. Which was ironic, considering you worked at an organisation that dealt with nightmarish monstrosities on the regular. 

Of all the things you could be afraid of, somehow small spaces were one of those great fears.

You felt yourself begin to panic. The room felt suffocating. 

“Okay, relax, I’ll just call Hunnigan and tell her we’re stuck in the storage closet. She’ll get us out.” Leon pulled out his phone and flipped it open, dialling Hunnigan. Shortly after, she picked up, and he explained what had happened to the both of you. 

As Leon was on the phone with her, you bit the inside of your cheek and began to zone out, trying to keep yourself together. You could barely hear their conversation as a high-pitched ringing drowned out their voices.

“..Thanks Hunnigan. Bye.” He ended the call, flipping his phone closed with a sigh. “Hunnigan called facilities. ETA is in an hour, so we might as well get comfy.” He pocketed the device as he turned to your still form staring at the wall. “Hey, you good?” He reached over to pat you on the shoulder, snapping you out of your trance.

That seemed to work, as your head immediately turned to him. “Huh? What?”

Leon sighed, repeating what he just said to you. “Are you okay?” He added at the end. “You were kinda.. zoning out.”

You shook your head and sighed, your face twisted into a frown. “No- yeah, I’m uh..” 

Leon raised a brow. “Are you okay or not?” 

Figuring that you can’t hide the truth forever, especially not in a room as small as this, you decided to tell him your fear. “I’m claustrophobic. And I’m kinda, y’know, freakin’ out right now-” You laughed in an attempt to stop yourself from spiralling, but it just made you look sad. 

A look of realisation crossed Leon’s face as he tried to think of what to do to help you calm down. He had experienced panic attacks before, and he knew how to deal with them. Maybe that can help?

“Alright, deep breaths right now, okay?” Leon took your hands and sat you down on the cold floor in an attempt to ground you back to reality. He gently took your face and made you look at him, his blue eyes meeting yours. “Tell me five things you can see.” He took your shining flashlight and pointed it up, letting you see your surroundings.

You looked around momentarily, your eyes landing on a plastic container filled with an orange liquid. “Floor cleaner,” Your eyes trailed over to other spots, “Rat poison, white floor, mop, mop bucket.”  

“Good.” Leon tried to remember the next step. “Four things you can touch.” 

You raised a hand and felt around the place, landing on the cold floor. “Floor..” You touched your arm, fabric balled into your grip. “Clothes,” you reached behind you to feel the cold metal of the storage rack. “Storage rack..” 

You then looked down at Leon’s hand on yours, turning your wrist to intertwine your fingers with his. “Your hand..” You mumbled with a little warmth in your cheeks. Leon seemed to share the same heat on his face as well, but you both chose to ignore it.

Clearing his throat, Leon let your hand stay with his as he ran you through the last three steps of the grounding technique. 

“You feel better?” He asks softly, rubbing the skin of your hand with his thumb. 

You nodded, looking up at him. “Yeah, yeah, I’m.. feeling better now..” 

There was a kind of tension in the room as the two of you sat on the floor of the supply closet in silence, hand in hand. Neither of you had ever done this before, so there was a definite awkwardness.

He was just trying to help you calm down, You thought to yourself, rationalising his actions. Nothing more to it. 

Your eyes shifted over to Leon, glancing at his face for a second before looking away.

Shit, they’re probably uncomfortable right now, Leon silently thought to himself. But, they’re not pulling their hand away.. Maybe they don’t mind it?

“How- how much time did Hunnigan say facilities would get here?” You broke the silence with a question.

“An hour, she said. Although, they might get here a bit later because they’re still dealing with the electricity problem. Then they’ll get us out.” He replied with a sigh, leaning back into the metal storage rack behind the two of you. “Don’t worry. It probably won’t be too long.” 

You nodded in response. An hour, huh? Well fuck. What’s two people to do ‘til then?

The two of you sat in more silence as you quietly waited for time to pass by, the occasional clicking of shoes together the only source of sound in the room. Leon’s flashlight was propped up and acted as the singular light source that illuminated everything just enough for it to be visible. With which, you decided to admire your best friend’s arms.

Everyone with eyes knew Leon was a catch. He was blessed with good looks, and a body that looked like it was chiselled by the Gods. Whether he knew it or not, he was dashing. You knew that, everyone did. 

Fortunately, (or unfortunately,) you had the pleasure of knowing what was behind that physical layer and found the treasure underneath. He was kind, endearing, always fought for what was right, and was overall, a really good guy.

And thus, the crush began. You’ve been hiding it pretty well, you’d think. He didn’t seem to notice anything. Besides, if he did, it’s not like you could do anything about it. He probably doesn’t feel the same..

As you went on your little thought train, your mind wandered deeper into the brainrot, thinking about how his arms would feel wrapped around you and embracing you in a warm hug..

“Can you like, hug me?”

Leon turned to you, giving you a look of confusion. “What?” 

Shit, did you say that out loud? FUCK.

Well, no turning back now.

“Uh- can you.. give me a hug?” You asked again, a little more embarrassed this time.

He was a little bit hesitant, but you reassured him that it was fine. And so he finally put his arms around you, gently pulling you towards him and resting your head on his shoulder. The position was not innocent at all. You were facing him, your chest against his as his arms wrapped around your waist and your head rested on his shoulder. 

 A little intimate for ‘best friends’, there. A little voice in your head spoke up, but you quickly shut it down, deciding to ignore it in favour of feeling the comfort of Leon’s arms around you.

Even if he doesn’t like you in the same way, then at least… you can still enjoy the feeling of being his best friend. Enjoy this hug. 

Your shoulders slumped a little at that thought. 

--

Holy fuck, holy fuck, holy fuck, the holiest of fucks. What in the actual hell am I doing?

Leon silently panicked to himself as he held you in his arms. Was he really doing this? Was this real? Did he or did he really not have his best friend/long-time crush in his arms right now? And you’re the one that asked for the hug? This was a dream come true. 

Maybe… this is a hint that they like me? He thought to himself, before dismissing the thoughts. No.. they probably don’t feel the same way. 

He heard a little yawn from you, betraying your fatigue. “You wanna sleep?” He asked, to which you nod in response to. “Alright..” Acknowledgement comes from him in the form of a soft whisper.

Fuck, they’re so cute when they’re tired.. He raised a hand from your waist to your back, drawing circles to help you fall asleep. He knew you deserved this. You’ve been running around settling the technical things since the blackout, no wonder you’d be just about ready to collapse. 

After about 20 minutes, he eventually feels you relax in his arms, your breathing slowing down to a calmer, more peaceful pace. A tell-tale sign that you’re asleep.

He sighs quietly, deciding to talk to himself as you sleep. “Why did I have to fall for you?” He whispers as he continues to draw circles on your back. “Why did it have to be you?” 

“You’re way out of my league. Stunning, smart, funny… God, I knew I’d never have a chance, but I just couldn’t help falling for you.”

It was really no wonder how he fell for you. You were everything he wanted, but he knew he’d never have you for a multitude of reasons.

“You’re much better off without me. You shouldn’t have to worry about someone who’ll die on you anytime I’m away. But fuck, I want you so bad.”

That was the truth. His job made it hard to maintain a relationship, he knew that, you knew that. In fact, every agent in the building knew it. Though there were no restrictions on having a family, most were either too busy to find love or chose not to for obvious reasons.

Leon held you tighter in his arms, being careful not to crush you. “I love you. So much. I know I can’t have you, but that’s fine. I’ll keep loving you from afar.” 

He sighed, thinking about why he was even spilling his heart out like this. “What am I saying? You can’t even hear me..” He chuckled mirthlessly.  His hand gently cradled the back of your head, a small smile on his face as he played with the hair on the nape of your neck. 

Unbeknownst to him, you were still awake. Half-asleep, but you heard everything.

Bonus:

The lights flickered back on, waking Leon up from his sleep. The power was back, and there was a clattering of the lock on the other side of the door.

“You two okay in there?” Hunnigan’s muffled voice called from the other side of the door. “We almost got the lock opened, just hold on.”

A few minutes later, the door opened, revealing a guy from facilities and Hunnigan standing in the doorway. “Oh, thank God you two are fine-” 

She stops in her tracks, spotting you in Leon’s arms, sitting on the floor. She blinks a few times, trying to connect the dots. “Did you two-” 

“Nothing happened.” Leon got up, carrying you with ease and walking out of the door. He did not want to speak of what happened, lest it caused a gossip storm among the employees. “Don’t tell anyone.” 

Hunnigan just followed along, kind of having this ‘whatever’ mindset. 

[hanespiritu]

LET ME BE YOUR LIGHT

(Will Solace x Nico Di Angelo)

written by: Han Espiritu

---

Nico di Angelo wasn’t used to warmth. He wasn’t used to soft things, to gentle touches, to the way Will Solace looked at him like he hung the stars in the sky.

But Will? Will had the patience of a saint and the persistence of a hero. He was sunshine incarnate, always warm, always steady. And somehow, against all odds, he was his.

It started with a promise.

"Let me be your light."

A simple phrase, but it haunted Nico in the best way. Because Will didn’t just say things. He meant them. He proved them with every touch, every glance, every exasperated "Nico, for the love of Apollo, eat something."

And Nico? He was helpless against it. Against him.

---

It was late at night when Nico found himself on the roof of the infirmary, staring at the stars. The camp was quiet, save for the distant crackling of a dying campfire and the soft whisper of the wind.

Then, footsteps. Light, careful. And then warmth.

Will.

Nico didn't move as Will draped a blanket over his shoulders, then settled beside him, close but not suffocating.

"Thought I’d find you here," Will murmured, his voice as soothing as the night breeze.

Nico hummed, pulling the blanket tighter around him. "You always do."

A chuckle. "It’s a gift."

Silence stretched between them, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. It was theirs. The kind of silence that spoke more than words ever could.

Then, Will shifted. "You know," he began, his tone softer now, hesitant. "I was thinking about something today."

Nico turned his head slightly, enough to see Will's profile—the way his golden hair glowed faintly under the moonlight, the way his freckles dusted his nose like tiny constellations.

"Yeah?" Nico prompted.

Will glanced at him, then up at the sky. "Stars," he said. "They don’t really shine on their own, you know? They just reflect light." He tilted his head towards Nico, eyes warm and knowing. "Kinda like you."

Nico's breath caught. "I—"

"You don’t have to say anything," Will interrupted gently. "Just… let me be your light. Let me be the stars you see at night. Let me be the arms that hold you tight."

Nico’s fingers twitched. His heart ached.

Because Will meant it.

Because Will saw him.

And gods, if that wasn’t the scariest, most wonderful thing in the world.

So, instead of words, Nico moved. He leaned in, slow and unsure, until his forehead rested against Will’s. Until the space between them vanished.

Until he could feel Will’s heartbeat, steady and real.

"I’m not good at this," Nico admitted, his voice barely above a whisper.

Will smiled, soft and so achingly tender. "That’s okay. I’ll be good enough for the both of us."

And just like that, Nico melted.

Because maybe, just maybe, warmth wasn’t so bad after all.

•┏────────────────────━

•┗─►⚠️ Warning: Plagiarism is a Serious Offense ⚠️

Plagiarism—the act of using someone else’s work, ideas, or words without proper acknowledgment—is unethical and can have severe consequences. Whether intentional or accidental, plagiarism can lead to academic penalties, legal repercussions, and damage to one’s reputation.

To avoid plagiarism:

✔ Always credit the original source.

✔ Use quotation marks for direct quotes.

✔ Paraphrase properly while maintaining the original meaning.

✔ Cite all sources accurately following the required citation style.

Respect intellectual property and uphold integrity in all your work!

[my-castles-crumbling]

Anon Advice Asks - June 10

crutches anon (new), comforting friend anon (new), autistic brother anon (new), suffocated anon, art major anon (new)

crutches anon

Hi Cas!

I am probably in the worst pain of my life right now! I had an injury on my knee, then I aggravated it through sports n theatre n such. I had a doctors appointment, then 2 days before that I fell on it, made it worse, and have been on crutches for a couple days. the problem is, I have been putting all of my weight om my opposite leg for about a year and a half (that's how long th injury was ago), and now they both hurt BAD. Both my knees, along with my hands, ribs, and arms from using the crutches. I have an orthopedic appointment scheduled for the near future, but still have school. I am taking the most pain killers I can, but still hurt

advice?

Hi!

I mean I'm not a doctor but you need to stay off of your feet! I know you want to do sports and theater but every time you push through, you make things worse to the point where you could cause a permanent injury! PLEASE consider taking it easy for a while. I have a feeling the doctor will say the same thing <3

___

comforting friend anon (new)

How do I comfort my friend over text when she feels bad about being thin, and my mom comes into the room and gets mad at me for eating too much?

Hi!

I definitely understand how that could be hard, and I remember dealing with similar feelings as a kid. I mean you could simply say "Wow, that sounds shitty" or "I know what it's like to have body confidence issues." But if that's a subject you don't want to talk about, you're also allowed to say something like "Hey, I know that's hard for you, but that subject makes me uncomfortable. Is there any way we could talk about something else?" You have every right to set boundaries <3

___

autistic brother anon

My brother is autistic and it makes my life extremely difficult. He isn’t willing to compromise, has rules that are almost impossible to work around, and often takes out his anger by hitting me. I feel bad complaining about it because it’s just the way his brain works but it still fucks up my life in so many ways

Hey I have an autistic brother too! I totally understand your feelings, here.

Here's the thing- yes, his brain may work differently than yours, but the hitting is NOT okay. Do your parents do anything about it? Does your school provide services?

Either way, your safety is IMPORTANT and you have a right to take space from him if he's not being safe.

Also, learning to compromise is part of life. He may need to learn how to do that a bit differently, but being autistic doesn't mean he gets whatever he wants- that's not teaching him how to succeed in life. It sounds like his teachers/your parents might need to think about different ways to work with him on these skills, because autistic people CAN compromise!

___

suffocated anon

um... cas? I'm suffocated anon. I talked about trying to find a proper label for my gender. I had given up on finding my label before because I felt like I didn't have the proper resources or an accepting surrounding for experimenting with it.

Yesterday I tried one of those "am I trans" Quizzes. I know that the results are not trust worthy Or perfect as I've taken the "am i gay" Quiz before to figure out my sexuality (I'm bi btw💜🩷🩵). I got result as trans. I kinda sorta panicked and took 5 quizzes and all of the results came as trans. I've had the general thoughts of how it would've been if I were a boy but I've never thought about "being" a boy. I sound crazy right? It doesn't make sense. Idk how to feel. To frankly say, the only three problems I have with being trans is 1) I don't want to have a male genital (I will gladly get rid off my boobs but I'm fine with everything else that I have). 2) I sometimes do feel feminine, though most times I like to look masc. 3) I don't really have a problem with the name I have or at least I don't think so. It is a girls name though.

Because of these reasons, I feel like an imposter for getting that results.

Thank you for listening ❤

Hi!

Well I think you're right in saying that those quizzes ARENT always reliable. However, remember that trans people aren't all the same! There are all different trans identities- nonbinary, genderfluid, agender, and more! it sounds like you should take some time to look into those things and see if any of them resonate. If they do- awesome! You learned something about yourself! And if not- well, that's okay, too! Either way, you aren't an imposter. Your feelings are valid, no matter what <3

___

art major anon (new)

Hi Cas, I hope you’re feeling well.

Im sorry to bother you with this it’s just that I don’t really know what to do or how to deal with my current situation

So Im in 10th grade and going to 11th September.

one of my majors is Art (i understand its different in the us, i study my majors year 10-12th)

my art class is my safe space

do I hate and is anoyed by quite a bit kids there? Yes. There are some there that joined in the middle of the year and make havok in class but is not the main thing.

every once in a while my art class has a workshop that takes place outside of school and is usually very fun

we had one yesterday (Friday morning) and there, with some of my classmates I see a Girl. Consider it is 2 weeks finishing the school year and my heart is pounding another one joining but not just antone as well

she used to be in my class at middle school. Lets just say my time there was… unpleasant

Quite a bit ago I sent you an ask when I found out about some thing they told about me when I was abroad w o contact and the things they blamed me of and stuff a year after it happened and was questioning how i should feel about it . Finding out my thoughts of everyone staring at me with hatred and trying to convince myself it all in my head only to a year later find out it is all real and I wont lie if Isay I still struggle with some of its effects.

I don’t remember the anon name you gave me unfortunately sorry

she was in that class

And honestly she was a real trigger for me

my Art teacher is one of the most amazing teachers I have ever met. She takes such good care of us and I really love her

but then my teacher said she is only here for the workshop and I was relieved and I guess she saw it on my face and I kinda said she was from my middle school and she was like “I dont like the sound of that… I was told by teachers she is very nice! A quite girl a good student she seems nice” and I replied “Yes because you’re a teacher” I know you are a teacher as well but some students appear a certain way to teachers and it’s not always how they actually are

of course the teacher see the quite polite girl they haven't heard her make plans with a girl calling her her vest friend that barely minutes later start calling her a weirdo to another one.

I thought ok, only for the workshop, she isn’t going ro be here

then I was told she was actually planned to join us just next year

and honestly I was a bit out of it after that

I was trying to think in my brain about how am I going to deal with her

a constant trigger in my little safe haven in schoool

in the studio for our class that Im at lots oc breakes to draw in quite

she felt like a shadow

so after the instructor explained a few things , I asked my teacher if I could go outside for a bit bc I needed a bit to my self and she said ofcourse and she said she’ll like show me the way to the bathroom bc its a big building and stuff and she asked me about how Im feeling and she saw O was a bit messy headed(rough trunslation) and she asked me about whats up w me and that girl and I didn’t really go into detail but

I don’t think a lot of people are bad people

there are a lot of people that annoy me and I hate and don’t want to be near but not many i think are bad people

I think she is

I feel uneasy around her

She reminds me of things that I don’t want to think of

i kinda said that

I can theoretically try and be better with it but…

it was messy

I didn’t go into details or really told her what happened and what she did to me but she understood she was a trigger

and I kinda teared up bc Im not good at that and I have been suppressing it

not sobbing but tears and i guess idrk

she said the paperwork aren’t all the way through, and how she said she didn’t have any friends in the class so she didn’t know a thing and it wasn’t as certain

she sort of implied that she is strongly rethinking letting her join . She didn’t even want to originally but menegment and stuf-

now there are 2 options of what to happen September 1st

either she will in the class- a constant trigger in my ex- safe space and the new chapter in my life , and Ill grow with tome to deal with it, but It will mever be the same. I truly think she’s a bad person. I don’t feel safe mentally around her to be my self , or anything.

Or she wont be in . My teacher will stop her and she wont come in to it. Then I have to think about what if

what if I was her

she didn’t really seem to like art but maybe now she does. And bc of she will not study it.

I know some people think Im a bad person

what If I was her

I hate her

I don’t want her anywhere near me because when I see her face I remember all the things she said and did and was a part of hiding from me. All the things that I thought I left behind

I don’t really know how to deal with my emotions right now

Im scared

I don’t know

Hi!

Okay I'm not sure if I'm completely understanding the story because I know you were a little vague on purpose, but if I were you, I would very clearly tell the teacher about your concerns. Tell the teacher what you told me- that art is your safe place, that this person brings up bad memories, etc. You have a right to voice your concerns, and you should absolutely share that with the adult in charge.

Then, let the teacher make the decision. Don't push for one way or the other, JUST share your feelings, and let the teacher take it from there.

And if the teacher allows the girl to be in the class and she pulls ANY shit, you tell the teacher right away. You deserve that safe space and the teacher should ensure it's safe for you. But also, don't be afraid to say something because if the teacher DOES choose to let her in the class, then she has EXTRA responsibility to keep you safe. Also, I know it's hard, but that's your space, so keep acting the same way even with the girl in class. Odds are, since she's the new person and she doesn't have a group, she'll pick up on how things work and not make waves. But if she tries something, speak up.

Use your voice. You deserve safety <3