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of-a-chaotic-mind · 2 months

Text

Hold On

Summary: Maddie finds Reader on the bathroom floor after Reader attempted. The 118 receive the call as she is one of their own & then wait at the hospital with their family. Meanwhile, Reader is reminded of all her people & why she can’t give up.

TW/CW: PLEASE DO NOT READ IF YOU ARE UNSURE IF YOU SHOULD!!! I'd rather you skip the read than get put in a bad place... Suicide Attempt, Reader's Bio Parents Are Dog Shit, Eddie Diaz x Reader, Hurt/Comfort, Angst

Requested?: No

Word Count: 5,236

A/N: This was hella therapeutic to write. I’m not okay mentally but I’m working on it & writing this helped me take a step back from THAT area of my mind. I have my own real-life people that would play in my Movie Theater (this reference will make sense once you read it) & I watch that instead of venturing into the darkness. I’m sure it may not be entirely medically accurate. I apologize if it ever switches tenses weirdly or when it shouldn’t, I kind of confused myself with certain parts lol. Anyway, I just want you to know dear reader, you are loved, you are wanted, you are needed. If you ever need someone to talk to my dms are open. Love to all! Requests are open!

--- Third Person POV ---

Maddie found it odd that your home was silent when she walked in. You can't stand silence, even when you're sleeping there's soft lo-fi playing. It wasn't unusual for your friends to let themselves in but Maddie always at least knocked first. Usually that prompted you to rush to the door to meet her when it opened. You were nowhere to be seen. Maybe Buck was right. He had asked her to check in on you because he had a bad gut feeling. If he wasn't stuck at work, he'd have checked in on you himself.

Maddie set her purse and keys down on the kitchen counter, "(Y/N)?" No response. She made her way through your small apartment. She checked each room with no luck before finally making it to the guest bathroom. She knocked softly but hearing no response she opened the door. She immediately let go of the knob as her hand flew to her mouth in shock. She rushed to your side, "(Y/N)? Hey, wake up!" Her heart plummeted to her stomach as she hurriedly pulled her phone out to dial 911 and scanned the room around her.

"911, what's your emergency?" she recognized the voice immediately.

"Josh! It's (Y/N)! Send the 118," Maddie responded quickly as she checked over your vitals.

"Maddie what's going on?" Josh asked, the worry clear in his tone.

As she continued her attempts to wake you, she explained, "There's so many medicine bottles scattered around, a nearly empty bottle of liquor, and a bunch of crumpled pieces of paper, Josh. She's barely breathing and her pulse is extremely low."

On the other end of the line, Josh was in pure shock, "Maddie did she-"

"Yes, Josh. She did," Maddie sobbed, tears streaming down her face as she still tried to wake you. The sirens approaching told her that help was close, "I hear the sirens. I gotta go."

"Okay, just keep me posted," Josh replied.

"I will," Maddie answered as she heard the front door open and hung up the phone. In seconds, Buck was pulling her out of the room holding her securely in his arms even though he so desperately needed to be in there helping save his best friend. Bobby watched the two make their way to the living room from outside the bathroom door as he held tight to Eddie's shoulder. He had dropped to his knees on the cold, hard, tile floor while gasping for breath between sobs and collected your hand in his. Hen and Chimney set to work on stabilizing you for transport to the hospital, forcing the tears to stay inside until they got you there.

As they wheeled your still body out with all kinds of equipment hooked to it, Maddie jumped up from the couch and ran to grab her keys and purse, "I'm riding with her." The team didn't argue as they made their way out. Once they had you safely loaded onto the ambulance, Chimney helped Maddie into the back, kissing her hand to say goodbye as Hen made her way to the driver's seat. Eddie climbed into the back to take over for Chimney. His hands were shaky as he checked your vitals over and over again, silently begging you to wake up right then and there. Begrudgingly, Buck and Chimney followed Bobby to the fire truck.

Maddie's heart raced as she held your hand gently. Eddie took a split second away from tending to you to wipe the tears rolling down his cheeks, "She'll be ok," he said more to himself than Maddie.

Her heart broke, "She's obviously not been ok for a long time, Eddie. How did none of us see it?"

From the front, Hen answered, her own tears threatening to blur her vision, "(Y/N) seems to think she has to fight her battles alone. She always has."

Back in the fire truck it was silent until Chimney finally spoke up, "Why didn't she say something?"

Bobby responded from the driver's seat, "I don't know, Chim. All I know is what we can do which is be there for her when she makes it through this."

Buck couldn't bring himself to look up from his boots, "Did anyone else see the note on the counter?" They all thought about those two simple words, I'm sorry. Fresh tears began to make their way down Buck's cheeks as Chimney wiped his own. Bobby took a deep breath as they pulled up at the hospital.

Everyone piled out of both vehicles as Eddie and Hen removed you from the ambulance and wheeled you toward the entrance. As they handed you off to the doctors and nurses, informing them of everything they could, every one of them were fighting to stay put and not pass those glass doors.

A few hours later, the team finally finished their shift. Maddie and Eddie had stayed at the hospital to keep everyone informed and for the sake of their own sanity. No one else had said a word about the event that had occurred. They were all replaying and processing that span of time. Having heard about everything from Maddie, Carla had offered to pick Jee and Chris both up from daycare and school to take care of them for as long as their parents needed. Karen, who had heard about it from Maddie as well, told Hen to do what she needed to do but let her know as soon as Hen needed her or she and the kids could visit. The team piled into Bobby's truck and silently rode to the hospital.

When they arrived and found Maddie and Eddie in the waiting room, a group hug was formed. They leaned on each other as they all desperately hoped that a nurse or doctor would approach to let them know you were okay and awake.

Meanwhile, in your quiet hospital room, a nurse took your vitals as you lay there still motionless. Your heart rate and oxygen had come up but were nowhere near where they should be for a young, healthy, firefighter. Somewhere in your unconscious mind there was a song playing. For as long as you could remember, Hold On by Chord Overstreet had always made you cry. It brought to mind the people in your life that would miss you if you were gone. Sure, those people changed in and out depending on where you were in life but this time it was the faces of your friends, your family. As the song played, memories also played on a big movie theater screen. You sat in the seats alone.

The first day you walked into the 118 firehouse started the movie. The smile on Bobby, Hen, and Chimney's faces when you tripped over a bench before stumbling through introducing yourself. They introduced themselves as well before motioning for you to join them upstairs for lunch. You had instantly clicked with them and they quickly became like family to you.

Next came the day you met your best friend, Buck, shortly followed by every single time anyone had referred to the two of you as "the dynamic duo". Then came every time you had looked at Buck and "thought what would I do without him". Buck had been your crutch through so much pain and heartache. The two of you were two peas in a pod from the very beginning. He was someone you could always depend on to be there and you were someone he could always trust to never judge him for who he is.

Meanwhile, the doctor has finally let a few people at a time visit, he said no more than three for now. Every one insisted that Bobby, Buck, and Eddie go first. As soon as they opened the door, tears started trickling again at the sight of your motionless body. Buck tore his eyes away from you and looked around thinking for a few seconds before walking right over to the table at your side to pick up the remote and turn the tv on at a low volume, "She hates silence." Bobby nodded, offering an attempt at a smile as he placed his hand on Buck's shoulder. Eddie still stood at the door, staring at you.

Bobby noticed and stepped to his side, gently tugging his arm to place him beside the heart monitor, "It's beating, Eddie. Let that bring you some hope." Eddie looked up at the line on the screen before nodding and pulling up a chair to your side. He gently took your hand in his, staying mindful of the IV, and kissed your knuckles. Bobby made his way over to your other side and brushed your hair from your face. He took a deep breath as he listened to the steady beeps. The silence was broken by Buck, "You gotta come back to us, (Y/N) ... We need you." The three sat in silence for a few more moments before Bobby gently pulled Buck back to the waiting room so another two could visit.

Back in the theater, Maddie made an appearance next. The day you met, all the fun outings the two of you had, the gossip sessions and boy talk, all of it flashed across the screen in chronological order. She was like a sister to you. Growing up a single child, you never knew what that was like until Maddie came along.

The first time you ever saw Eddie played, the man who would turn the dynamic duo into the three musketeers and later become the love of your life. You watched as several different occasions of you, him, and Buck taking Chris out for an adventure. Then Chris became the focus. That kid had taught you a lot in the few years you'd known him. Every lesson played in succession.

Following Chris and Eddie came several other people that had made a positive impact in your life. Faces like Jee-Yun Buckley Han who you always referred to as your niece, Athena Grant-Nash who you looked upon as a mother figure, May Grant who you dubbed as your little sister and always looked out for, Josh Russo who always had the best non-biased advice, Carla Price who you knew your small family could never live without, and several others. Behind them came everyone who had ever thanked you for saving them in their time of need. Many faces that you didn’t even realize you remembered said thank you over and over again. As the final chorus and bridge played, specific moments showed in time with the lyrics.

Hold on, I still want you.

The night you turned up on Bobby and Athena's doorstep crying so hard you couldn't see because your parents had both told you that they never wanted to see you again for supporting your friends who were part of the LGBTQIA+ community. They had welcomed you in and comforted you, making sure that you knew without a doubt that, "We would happily call you our daughter if given the chance.” From that night on, their names in your contacts were Momma Athena and Captain Dad, formerly Athena and Captain Nash. The next morning, you woke up on their couch to the smell of waffles and sausage. When you shuffled into the kitchen, Bobby gave you a great big grin and insisted you join them for family breakfast with May, Harry, Michael, and David.

Come back, I still need you.

The day Buck turned up on your doorstep begging you to come back to the 118 after having been transferred against your will, "I feel like I'm gonna go insane without you there. You're the glue that holds my dumbass and the rest of the 118 together." Not to mention, "Don't get me wrong, Eddie's great but I need my other best friend back. We can't be the Three Musketeers without you." He declared that if you wouldn't talk to your Captain about transferring back, then he would and he wouldn't leave until the man put in the transfer request. Knowing damn well he'd do just that, you promised to talk to him the next day and sure enough you were soon transferred back which you to this day believe Bobby and Buck both had something to do with because your Captain was adamant that he wasn't going to transfer you.

Let me take your hand, I'll make it right.

The time that Hen and Chimney patched you up after Gerard made a stupid call and sent you into a burning building even though you had just gotten over bronchitis. They both fought tooth and nail to keep from giving him a piece of their mind. Chimney promised, "I'm gonna make him regret putting you in danger like that," and he did. He made Gerard's life a malicious compliance hell until he was finally gone and you all had Bobby back. Hen was always Mother Hen-ing you after that. She never let anyone do you wrong if she had anything to say about it and she would always be first to bat when it came to patching you up, "Ah ah, don't touch her. That's my firefighter that needs patching," was common when Chimney or another station's medic got to you before her.

I swear to love you all my life.

The night Eddie found out that Chris had been calling you Mom and insisted you come over to talk. With Chris in bed, the two of you sat on the couch. Eddie cleared his throat, "I've fought with myself for a while now about how I feel about you. You're my friend and coworker. I shouldn't feel the need to scream I love you and kiss you until neither of us can breathe. I shouldn't need you in my life as much as I do," he paused, "But after finding out that Chris calls you Mom, that he loves you as much as I do, I don't care. I understand if you don't feel the same but I love you, (Y/N)." The two of you made eye contact before you told him you felt the same and began a beautiful relationship.

Hold on, I still need you.

Several different occurrences that always stuck out in your memory of someone thanking you after a call. One in particular, a teenage girl whose mother had to call 911 after finding her in a bathtub of her own blood. She barely made it but you talked to her the entire time the medics were stabilizing her to keep her awake. You made sure to check in on her at the hospital after your shift. She was smiling brightly and laughing with her family when you knocked softly at the door. Her father had stood defensively at the entrance of a stranger but her mother pulled him back, “This young lady helped save our daughter.” The girl looked at you and motioned for you to come closer. When you made it to her bedside, she took your hand in hers, “Thank you. We need good people like you in this world and I’m very glad that you’re one of the ones out there saving lives, saving mine. Please, tell your team thank you for me.” All you could do was nod and offer a smile.

I don't wanna let go. I know I'm not that strong.

The day Maddie told you, "You're basically my little sister, (Y/N). I don't ever wanna lose you. You are loved beyond compare, I promise," after you confessed to her that you were struggling with suicidal thoughts. She made you promise to come to her if you ever found your mind in that place again. She said she wouldn't be able to bear the thought of having to let you go. You remember thinking that same thing when she disappeared after having Jee. You spent countless nights lying awake worrying about her. You wished you could be there for like she had been for you.

I just wanna hear you saying, "Baby, let's go home." Let's go home. Yeah, I just wanna take you home.

Every time you looked around at your people and thought this is family, this is home. Several meals at the fire house, all the parties and cook outs at the Grant-Nash residence, the weddings, birthdays, and other various celebrations, the moments after you thought you'd lost one or more of them in disasters but there they were safe and sound. You knew early on that they would be there for you to the very end. Darkness and light, sickness and health, they were there, not just for each other but for you too. They gave you a place to feel safe, to feel like you belong.

Hold on, I still want you. Come back, I still need you.

The screen fades to black as you sit there wondering why you ever decided to give that up. Tears stream down your face and drip onto your lap as you hope with all your might that this isn't the end. You silently beg the universe to give you another chance.

In the quiet hospital room, the heart monitor is now beeping at a healthier rhythm. Eddie and Bobby both now sit on either side of your bed. Everyone has come for a visit before returning to the waiting room. Buck, Maddie, and Chimney are all playing with Jee who was brought by Carla not long ago. The little girl is bringing everyone in the waiting room a bit of sunshine as she sits rotating between her mom, dad, and uncle playing patty cake. Tommy smiles brightly as his boyfriend lets Jee "win" at patty cake, up until this moment he had no idea one could win playing patty cake.

Across from them, Carla and Athena speak quietly as Chris sits between them. He hasn't said a word since he returned to the waiting room from his visit to you. Hen, Karen, Denny, and Mara return from the cafe with snacks for everyone, juices for the kids, and coffees for the adults. As they pass them around, Eddie and Bobby enter the waiting room, Eddie rubbing his face in exhaustion before squatting down in front of Chris, "You okay?" Hen hands the tired man a coffee as Chris stares blankly at his lap. Eddie rubs his shoulder as Bobby clarifies that the doctor and nurse needed to take a look at you to get an idea of your status but that you're still hanging in. Eddie hadn't left your room the entire time since they were allowed to visit. Bobby had returned and stayed too after everyone else had a visit.

Eddie places his pointer finger under Chris's chin and finally the young boy looks up, making direct eye contact with him, "I want to go see Mom again." Everyone in the room shows various signs of surprise, Chris had never called you Mom in front of anyone else besides you and Eddie. Eddie kisses his forehead before nodding as he stands. Together the two make their way back to your side. The doctor and nurse having just finished up when they enter your room.

Chris takes a seat in the chair that Eddie had been occupying previously, as his dad stands behind him. Chris places his hand on top of yours, prompting Eddie to place his on Christopher's shoulders. Chris tilts his ear toward the steady beeping, "It sounds better." Behind him Eddie is struggling to keep it together as he whispers, "Yeah." He takes a few deep breaths as the room falls quiet again. The beeping persists just like the tv that no one could bring themselves to turn off. In some way they're all hoping the noise brings you a bit of comfort. Chris lays his head down where his hand meets yours, "I love you, Mom. Hold on, okay?" Eddie lays his head against the back of Christopher's. As hard as he tries to keep them in, the tears force their way out even harder.

The two say nothing more for quite some time. At some point, Eddie made his way over to stare blankly out the window. It's only when Carla pokes her head in that he turns around and notices that Chris has fallen asleep. She notices too, "I was going to offer to take him home for some sleep but I guess he's just fine where he is." Eddie nods, "He can stay. I'm sure he'll put up a fight if we try to make him leave." She agrees and looks over at where Chris still lays on your hand, "He'll want to be here when she wakes up, but you should get some sort of rest too, Eddie." He nods so Carla takes one last look at you and Chris before leaving the room.

A few hours pass before Eddie is startled awake, in what was formerly Bobby's chair, by a knock at the door. He gets up, assuming it's the doctor and nurse here to check on you again, and opens the door. In front of him is neither a doctor nor a nurse, it's Bobby with a man and a woman he doesn't recognize. The two strangers almost hide behind Bobby who has a serious look on his face. He clears his throat, "Eddie, this is (Y/N)'s parents. Mr. & Mrs. (Y/L/N) this is (Y/N)'s boyfriend Eddie." The woman tries to smile and the man nods his head solemnly. Eddie clenches his jaw as he notices the lack of tears on either of their faces. He doesn't know who called them but he wishes they hadn't. Eddie takes a deep breath before stepping aside to let them in.

Eddie makes his way over to stand between your parents and Chris as they make their way into the room. Bobby joins him, giving him a look that says, "Please stay calm." Your parents stop at the foot of the bed, your mother holds her hand to her chest as her face contorts into a very fake look of sadness and your father wraps his arms around her seemingly in support but still neither of them even look watery eyed. Eddie's fists now join his jaw in clenching. How dare they walk in here after not speaking to you in years? Eddie knows that your real mom is sitting in the waiting room with the rest of your real family and your real dad is standing right beside him now.

Bobby places his hand on Eddie's shoulder and even though he doesn't want to he says, "We should give them a moment." Eddie whips his head around to look at him but finds a very serious look on his face. Begrudgingly and with gritted teeth, Eddie turns around to pick up Chris who doesn't even stir. With Bobby behind him, he returns to the waiting room with the others. He takes a seat beside Buck who looks at him with a knowing and worried look, "The hospital called them."

Bobby joins Athena, "And whether we like it or not, they're her parents. They made the effort to come down here so we have to make the effort to play nice."

"Even if they only came to save face and pretend that they care?" Maddie asks looking up from Jee who is sound asleep in her arms. She and Buck know well what type of parents you have. They've both caught themselves thinking your parents are just as bad theirs, if not worse.

"We can't assume the worst. We have to give them the benefit of the doubt," Bobby says, sounding like he doesn't believe what he's saying.

A short while later, your parents make their way through the waiting room, looking no more distraught than they did before. They try to make it to the elevator but Eddie, who shifts Chris into Buck's lap, isn't having it, "Where are you going?" he asks as he stands and steps toward them. Bobby and Tommy are both quick to stand as well and join him just in case. Your father ignores them and presses the elevator button several times. "You're seriously leaving? You just got here and she's still unconscious."

Bobby and Tommy each place a hand on Eddie's shoulders as your father responds, "The doctor says she's doing fine and they're just waiting for her to wake up. We've had a long drive and need to sleep."

Eddie steps forward but doesn't make it far as Bobby and Tommy move to block his path. He's fuming, "Why did you even come? You haven't bothered to speak to her in years. Even when you were on speaking terms, you didn't give a shit about her, only yourselves. Even now you care more about going to sleep in a comfortable bed than staying with your daughter." Neither your mother nor father say anything or even look in Eddie's direction. He motions around him, "Us? Her real family? We've been here nearly the entire time. The only sleep any of us have gotten is in a rickety ass waiting room chair or hard hospital recliner. Don't come in here pretending like you care when you clearly don't. Actually, don't even bother getting a hotel, just go home."

“You better watch your mouth, boy,” your father finally snaps, stomping toward Eddie, “I don’t give a damn who you are. That is our daughter in there.”

Bobby interrupts him in the calmest voice anyone has ever heard from him, “I think she stopped being your daughter the moment you disowned her for supporting her friends. We gave you the benefit of the doubt and you proved our instincts correct. We should’ve told you to leave as soon as you got here. Now please, don’t let the door hit you on the way out.”

Your father stands stun locked, mouth gasping for a response. Tommy grins wide, “I don’t think they’re giving you a choice in the matter. Leave.” The three of them and the rest of their family watch as your father finally gives up and rejoins your mother at the open elevator. They leave without saying another word. Only when the elevator doors close fully do Bobby and Tommy release Eddie and return to their seats.

Eddie doesn’t move. He stands there trying to regain his composure. The audacity of your parents to show up has sent him raging. The doctor approaches him, bringing him back to reality. He looks to the man with every ounce of hope he can muster. Grinning, the doctor announces, “She’s awake,” looking around at the group, he continues, “She’s asking for you.”

Confused, Eddie asks for clarification, “Who?”

The doctor looks him in the eyes, “All of you.” Together, everyone makes their way to your room. Before entering the doctor ensures everyone, “I’ll let you know when you can take her home.”

From your bed you look up with a bright smile on your face and tears in your eyes, “I already am home, Doc. Wherever these people are is home.” As one, everyone moves to crowd around you with their own tears now falling. Eddie and Chris take a seat on the edge of your bed, letting the rest fill in the empty space. You look around you for a moment, placing your chin on Christopher’s head. In that hospital room, you make a promise to yourself that anytime you feel like giving up you’re going to listen to that song or gather everyone around you to remind yourself why you can’t give up. You need them and they want you. They are your family and home.

Sometime later, Chris is snuggled into your side asleep. Eddie and Bobby have both taken their chairs back on either side of you. You had insisted everyone else go home and get some sleep but little do you know several of them had gone to your apartment instead to clean it up before you get released tomorrow. You check to make sure Chris is sound asleep before reaching for Eddie and Bobby’s hands. When they quickly take yours in theirs you look between them both a couple times before looking down at Chris, “I’m sorry,” it comes out quieter than you meant it to but they both heard it clearly.

Bobby clears his throat speaking for the both of them since all Eddie can do is lean forward and kiss your knuckles with tears making it hard to see, “We’re just glad you’re still here, kiddo.”

You nod, looking up at him, “I promise I’ll go see Frank. I know you’re gonna make me take time off anyway but I want to get back out there as soon as I can.”

He nods with a smile on his face, “I knew you’d wanna get back on the job but I am glad you understand that it’ll take time and you need to talk to someone.”

Eddie nudged your chin to look at him, “Thank you for holding on. Please promise me you’ll let me know if things ever get that bad again.” You nod holding your pinky out for a pinky promise which he immediately takes. The room falls quiet again, aside from the tv that still plays. That night you drift off to sleep with Chris still curled up next to you and Eddie laying on your hand. Bobby takes a Dad Nap in his chair, refusing to go home.

The next morning, after what felt like eons of paperwork, you let Eddie help you down out of Bobby’s truck outside of your apartment. Then, carefully, he and Bobby help you up the stairs with Chris leading the way. Your body still hasn’t recovered fully so you’re still quite weak and achy. When you open the door to your apartment, you’re met with the sight of your smiling family, colorful balloons, and a buffet of food on the counters. Placing your hand on your hip, you give them a playfully stern look, “I thought I told you guys to go home and rest.”

Buck pulls you into a gentle hug, “We did. Everyone got some sleep but also pitched in to help.”

Athena collects you into a hug as soon as he releases you, kissing your cheek when she pulls away, “Did you really think you’d come home to an empty house? Not on our watch, honey.”

All you can do is smile as you make your way further into the apartment and collect hugs from everyone. When the excitement has died down, you sit carefully on a barstool at the island and clear your throat, “I just want to say thank you. You guys are always there for me when I need you. Honestly, you’re the only thing that kept me here while I was under.” You think about Bobby telling you that your parents had showed up, everything they said, and how they acted, “You guys are my family and I don’t know what I’d do without you.” Everyone smiles, a few of them wipe away fresh tears, but together all of you have a good time making conversation, enjoying Buck’s cooking, and laughing about stories from the past. Every now and then you catch a story that you remember playing in that movie theater and then you realize that they probably cherish those memories just as much as you do.

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a-sweet-desperate-softie · 5 months

Note

Yooo can we get a storytime on that wetting pretty please with a cherry on top

Haha, sure! Because you said please, of course 😉

I'll start off by saying it wasn't a particularly memorable wetting in the grand scheme of things, but I'll do my best to be a descriptive and nuanced as I can be; it's the way I most enjoy to write these days and the pants wetters at large seem to enjoy it 🥰

***READ THIS*** I am only describing my experiences. I have spent years reading, practicing, and studying how to "play" safely. BY NO MEANS am I suggesting that you take anything that I say as instruction, direction, or anything of the sorts. Please, please, please, read about how much water/fluids are safe to consume in a given time period. ***PLAY SAFELY***

Context

I've been thinking a lot about the variety of sensations that I experience when holding/wetting and the ways in which different beverages cause my bladder to respond in distinct and manipulatable ways. For example, water is surely my favorite thing to hold. There are no irritants and it is not a diuretic, so therefore all you can really do to adjust your experience by drinking only water is control/effect how much you drink, how often you drink it, and how much and how often you're allowed to relieve yourself. Water is what I started with when first exploring omo and it is my control for all intents and purposes. There's nothing like having a bladder filled to the brim with little to no irritants rushing along the process. To quote Dr. Emily Nagoski, if "pleasure is the measure," then the pleasure of (safely) holding nothing but water and food is unmatched.

But yesterday I had a schedule I was keeping to. Sooo, I thought it might be fun to fill up decently with water and then see what would happen if I had some strong diuretic/irritant heavy beverages to see how it would feel to go from holding comfortably to an onslaught of irritation-based desperation. I've recently made the switch from traditional brewed coffee (usually iced/cold brew) to hot chai tea as my primary caffeine source. While coffee surely was a diuretic (and not in the fun, omo kind of way...), the chai I've been drink (Blue Lotus) just makes me have to pee, IMMEDIATELY. Like, for the last few weeks I've been rather quite on here because before I can even think about maybe holding, I already peed twice and feel like I need to go again. So, since my whole sexual journey has largely been shaped by my insatiable imagination thinking up wild, "un-winnable" situations and challenges for me to find pleasure in I thought, hey, fuck me up, Florida, I'll try it.

Story

After feeling the first wave of desperation crash through my body, I knew I could really start fucking with myself. I decided I would have one more big glass of water, then a hard iced tea (5% abv), then a really strong cup of chai with some extra honey to help it go down even quicker 🤤 With the first wave of desperation behind me, I had probably about 30 minutes before I could expect the next, as long as I stayed focussed.

Most of my wetting experiences have taken place in the bathroom, but since I had the place to myself, I decided that I'd try some more situational play.

I MUST keep my pants on.

I MUST keep them zippered and buttoned all the way up.

I MUST keep my belt exactly as it is.

I MUST keep washing the dishes until UNTIL I've leaked, THEN

I MUST put the front window shade all the way up, and

I MUST be visible through that front window as I wet myself.

I was wearing all dark clothing, and the front window is a long way back from the street/sidewalk, so I wasn't really risking being seen more than I was forcing myself to FEEL as though I could be seen. But ignore that if you'd rather imagine my in some cute pastel colors which all get SO DARK at even the smallest little leak.

Jumping ahead 25/30 minutes; I am feeling FULL, and I've finished both the hard iced tea and chai...

So there I was, scrubbing away at some dishes with warm water flowing freely down then length of my fingertips when I felt a gas bubble building. Let me tell you... I have never been more worried that my bladder was just going to collapse in on itself then I was when I tried to pass that little gas bubble! Oh. My. LORD!

The nerve clusters in my pelvic floor are SO well trained. Like, not for nothing, I've routinely done kegels for close to 20 years, can fully separate the sensations and experiences of orgasm and ejaculation (AMAB), and have enjoyed challenging myself with various styles/forms or edging, orgasm control, anal/prostate play, THE WORKS. However, my bladder was at it's limit, and everything felt so intense that I just couldn't make sense of the sensations and distinguish them in a way that I could confidently let that little fart out without risking absolutely flooding my pants.

So, I took a deep breath, gently pressed on my tummy a little above my bladder, and finally, the fucking tiniest amount of gas passed from me, and I was still dry!

Now, for anyone who is familiar with that particular sensation—the feeling of relief on your bladder as the pressure the gas had been providing is finally relieved—but it makes me feel as though I can hold forever, lol. Suddenly, I went from what felt like a 9.5, mere seconds away from uncontrollably wetting myself, down to what felt like 4!

But that relief only last so long...

Within 3 minutes, I went from that 4, RIGHT BACK TO A 9.

It was unreal.

I RAN to the window and through the shade up, stood back so I could stretch my arms up over my head and place each hand against the top of the door frame I was standing in. As I reach my arms up, I could feel the space in my tummy being stretched upward, and like everything that can stretch, as something gets longer, the volume gets narrower (we're all just fleshy rubber bands, people). As my tummy elongated, the pressure against the front of my bladder finally pushed it to it's limit.

I wish I could remember what the wetting itself felt like, but my adrenaline was so off the charts than it just felt like I was in a haze. Either way, I THOROUGHLY enjoyed myself. :)

Long story short, I wanted to be able to enjoy being full, enjoy the sensations of pleasure and desperation building from my toes up, through the shivers and squirms, gasps and grabs. But I also didn't want to have as much control at the end as I usually do. When I'm just holding water I can make that last portion of a hold—the imminent wetting—last for pretttty long, and rather than rapid desperation where I get too ahead of myself and don't allow myself to enjoy the hold as much because I can't wait for the wetting, adding the irritants/diuretic at the end seems to be a really wonderful and hopefully repeatable way to get the best of both.

#omorashi #omo #pants wetting #desperation wetting #pee accident #intentional wetting #stoned omo #a sweet desperate anon

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ryverbind · 1 year

Text

Faceless Fixation {Sal Fisher}: Respect the Birth [13]

*SMUT WARNING!!!!*

Me and The Faces made it home hours ago. I still haven't texted Sal back and I don't plan to. Not now at least-- I'm going to have to let it marinate. He's still a dick and I'm exhausted from the hellhole that was the Dark Autumn Complex concert.

Don't get me wrong, the music itself and meeting North, East, and South was fucking amazing. But I learned way more than I ever wanted to.

Ash and I took quick showers earlier then climbed into bed, ditching all three of the other boys.

It's about two in the morning. Ash is snoring softly behind me and I haven't been able to fall asleep at all yet. I've just been sitting here, staring up at the ceiling and feeling sorry for myself. And worse, I've had to pee really bad for the past fifteen minutes.

But I'm afraid to get up-- I really don't want to disturb Ash. At the same time though, if I don't run to the bathroom, I'm just going to be miserable all night.

Todd was the pampered prince in this living situation. He got the one room in the suite that has a bathroom inside. Meanwhile, the rest of us have to venture out of our bedrooms to go do whatever we need to do.

After a minute of cursing my stupid bladder, I slowly scoot out of bed. I can't afford many expensive things, but I'm really fucking thankful that The Faces can because it's so nice to be able to sneak out without the floor or bed squeaking. My trip out of Ash's bed is so simple and quiet.

Before I slip out of the room, I grab my mask. I can't risk getting caught without it.

I walk toward the bathroom, mask haphazardly wrapped around my face just because I honestly couldn't care less. I'm tired and I need to pee-- no one can see my face even if I just threw this thing on half assed.

I drag my feet, smacking my lips and rubbing my eyes as I turn the corner into the kitchenette where our bathroom lies just beyond.

Moonlight glitters into the small kitchen, illuminating the cold, tiled flooring with a pale blue sheen. It lights up my path, making it seem as though it's almost glowing. If I weren't particularly groggy and exhausted tonight, I'd admire it a bit. But at the moment, I'm more than ready to crawl back into bed with Ash and snuggle into her warmth.

I pass the kitchen, walking right up to the bathroom door and leaving the hypnotizing moon behind.

I lick my lips and slap a hand onto the light switch, hearing a resounding grunt in response that has a shriek building in my throat. Since when do light switches grunt? And since when do light switches feel like skin?

A hand slaps onto my mouth and the building scream catches before it can leave my mouth. I just watch ahead of me, trying to see through the dark.

A bare, pale chest finally makes it's way into my line of vision and I blink, squinting my eyes as my gaze travels up until I'm looking into two prosthetic eyeholes.

Relief and anger simultaneously swell within me as I shove Sal's hand off of my face. "For fuck's sake," I hiss out, taking a step toward him. An intimidation tactic, I guess? "What is wrong with you!? I was about to drop kick you, dick-head."

"As if you could," he grumbles back, eyes midnight black with the lack of lighting. But the itching at the back of my brain says he's staring right at me.

"Oh, yea?" I bite back. "Wanna find out?"

I don't wait for answer, just shove past him and into the bathroom, finally switching on the light I was so desperately seeking. But as I go to close the door, Sal's hand catches it, his long, pale fingers wrapping around the side of the wood and keeping it in place even though I try to put more pressure into closing it.

Sal just meets my force with some force of his own, easily getting the door to open again until he's standing in front of me in all his... bare chest... toned tummy perfection.

I huff out a sigh, thankful that my mask can hide the sudden blush on my cheeks, though it can't do a single thing for the way my eyes immediately trail down his body. Still, I manage to force out the words, "What do you want?"

Once I finally peel my gaze away from his body and look at his face, Sal looks stuck for a moment. Something about his slightly wide eyes and risen eyebrows hints that he may be gaping under that damn prosthetic of his.

So, I tilt my head, waiting for a response through the mild shock of seeing him not so confident and all lost for words. It's... it feels really weird to see him like this.

But then his eyes relax, as do his eyebrows, and he steps into the bathroom. Crosses the threshold. And shuts the door behind him.

He's either here to bitch at me, or...

I gulp down the wave of expectations and emotions that rushes through me all at once. Part of me is warm, wondering if he's here to honor the promise I'd given up on. The other part of me-- a bigger part-- is on guard. This is not like Sal. In fact, this is a bit concerning.

I don't know. Maybe he's going to kill me. I wouldn't be all that surprised with how much he seems to despise me. Just as I despise him in some cases.

He still says nothing. And I'm tired of waiting.

I take a shaky breath and take a little step back. "Look, if you have nothing to say, can you let me pee in peace? Argue with me later."

"Do you have to go that bad?" He finally speaks. But his words are stupid as shit.

I stare at him, dumbfounded as awkwardness pulses between us. "What-- I-- why would you even fucking ask me that?"

Sal narrows his eyes and bends his head down, a tinge of aggravation flashing in his eyes. "Just answer the question."

"Holy fuck," I groan out, shoving a hand into his chest until he takes a staggering step back. "Yes. I actually do have to go that bad. Now fuck off."

Sal turns without a word and leaves the bathroom, shutting the door behind him.

Okay. He must be on drugs. There's no damn way that interaction just happened with both of us sober. Something has to be making him act all weird. I'm so... I'm so weirded out that I'm considering saying fuck it and just running back to Ash's room.

But I use the restroom instead, just so I'm not miserable through the night, wash my hands, then open the door and flick of the light.

Only to get shoved back into the bathroom.

Rage consumes me. This guy is starting to tick me off. Something weird is up with him tonight and I genuinely don't want to stick around to find out. "Sal, what the fuck are you--"

"I'm trying to keep my word and I don't know about you, but this seems like a perfect opportunity to me," his deep voice rasps at least an octave lower. Barely hidden desire is reflected in his tone that only grows quieter and closer as I find my breath catching in my throat.

I look every which way, trying to catch a glimpse of him in the darkness as my heart thumps wildly in my chest.

Is this really about to happen? Do I want him to honor his promise? Am I ready to do this-- here, with all of our friends just a door or two away?

Honestly... yes I am. Weird or not, I have this ridiculously frustrating attraction to Sally Face.

Still...

I'm about to tell him he doesn't have to do this. That our friends are too close and it doesn't matter anyway. But his fingertips brush over the shirt covering my waist. Desperately and hesitantly. But I don't move, and he pauses, assessing my reaction or waiting for one.

When I simply stand there and hold my breath, listening to my wildly pounding heart in my ears, Sal drags his fingertips farther across my waist until his entire hand is under the hem of my shirt and gripping onto my skin, pulling me a step closer.

This feels... it feels funny. Though, I suppose when any two people who have, for example, in our case, bickered so often and are now trying to appease some stomped down desires... I guess it's understandable to be awkward. I just hope that Sal can squash out the odd tension because I don't have the gall too.

Even weirder is how things are going to progress if I can't even kiss him.

As clueless as I may be on occasion (or more so, often), I'm not dumb enough to think that Sal is just going to miraculously pull off his prosthetic and kiss me willingly. He's not some emo knight in shining armor and his prosthetic isn't his weapon. It's a barrier. Everything about him is a barrier. The most impenetrable one that I've ever seen.

I push past the awkward bit just a little, wondering how he'll do this without either of us being able to use anything above our necks. It's incredibly intriguing, especially since, overall, he's pretty confident.

At least, I would assume he's confident considering his hand just moves lower, his fingertips brushing over the waistband of my shorts.

I lick my lips as electricity courses through my body at just the whereabouts of his skin on mine. As frustrating as he is, he manages to make up for his shit personality by being hot in everything he does.

Sal is meticulous. He makes everything he does personal, intimate. It always shows even if he tries to hide it. Shows in his blue hair that brushes my cheek as he leans a bit closer to me. Shows in the curling of his fingers against the fabric of my shorts. Shows in just the sound of his slow breathing. All confidence. All focus.

I wish I could see him more than anything-- even if I'd be looking into his prosthetic. Just to see his outline, his body, his eyes on me.

The odd tension is all but gone as Sal and I stand quietly, his one hand on me and anticipation of what happens next rippling in the air around us. My body is growing warmer by the second, my heart picking up speed and my fingers shaking just a bit.

"Do you remember what I told you that night?" Sal whispers, his otherwise monotone, but raspy voice holding back all of his emotions. But I can see through him. I know he's struggling to move slow. But like I said, he's meticulous. He wants to turn this into something that will resonate with him just as much as it will resonate with me.

And that's something I'm starting to like about him, especially when it comes to moments like this.

"Which part?" I ask in return, my voice coming out soft and shaky despite how hard I try to keep everything together.

The condition of my words must give Sal the last bit of confidence he needs to do something more. The way I nervously put my words together, regardless of how short, tell him that my walls are down for now. And he's him. Of course he'll openly take that opportunity.

Sal's other hand, previously at his side, trails along my other side, skimming over my torso then up the length of my arm. Leaves a trail of fire the entire way. It takes him a frustratingly long time to tease me, just with his hands on such a seemingly uninteresting part of my body. It's aggravating how easily he's able to turn something innocent into something sinful.

His fingers finally run up the side of my neck until they brush along my jaw. I take a quick breath, all of the air in my body stolen at just small, fleeting touches. Fuck, I hate the way I like this so much.

I look up to where I assume his face would be, but I still see nothing. In a way, that makes things ten times more tense. I can't see him-- I can only feel him. Every other sense is heightened and I can feel him, smell him, hear him everywhere.

Sal's hand moves farther, his palm enveloping my ass and squeezing roughly. The feeling shocks me and excites me all at once. I stagger toward him, which is what he wanted, and gasp as I stop myself from knocking both of us over with a hand on his bare chest.

"There you go," he purrs quietly. So that was his game. To get me to touch him too. "And I'm talking about a very specific part. I need you to remember what it is." His voice is thickly coated in lust that he's given up on hiding from me. He's felt how I'm reacting to him. He doesn't have to keep anything at bay when I'm not either.

"Are you--" my voice fails and I clear my throat quietly, trying to will my fingers to stop trembling as I flatten my palm against his chest. It's crazy to think that I'm finally touching him after all this time, even crazier to feel his soft, cool skin beneath mine. "Are you talking about... you wanted me to wait until you were-- until we were--" I can't seem to spit it out. I don't have the confidence to actually say it.

"Speak, Vi," he says, voice dark with warning. "Remember what I told you about using words."

A shiver runs through my body and Sal grips onto my ass even tighter, only heightening my emotions and senses and my nerves. Fuck.

I choke over my own breath, trying to stop myself from having such obvious reactions to every little thing he does. But I can't fucking help it. He's too good. Too good at this.

I swallow thickly over my anxiety. I need this to happen more than my fear needs to control me. So even if it makes me cringe slightly, I whisper, "The part where you told me not to cum until you had me in your hands."

Sal's fluffy hair brushes along the top of my shoulders as he leans closer-- close enough for the tip of his prosthetic nose to tap against the nose of my mask. I hold my breath, eyes wide when his hand moves from my butt to the small of my back, his arm wrapping around me. "That's definitely an important part," he rasps, "but not what I'm talking about."

My heart skips a beat as a rush of air passes through my lips. I'm not sure if it's because I'm relieved or disappointed, but if he doesn't want to make me cum, then what the hell is he here for?

"I--" Damn me and my faltering brain. Why can't I just fucking speak? "I don't know what you're talking about." There we go. Even as I finally speak the words, I feel my heartbeat thrumming throughout my entire body, just under my skin. It's so evident that I'm afraid Sal's going to feel it, but that's impossible, I'm just letting fear get to me again.

His fingers press into the side of my neck a bit harder and he hums, the sound one of satisfaction and a lot of pride. I swallow again, blinking into the darkness.

"Your pulse is impressive," he whispers. "Makes me pretty pissed about taking so long to approach you when you're so open to me already."

Fuck, maybe it wasn't just fear. I failed to realize that his fingers were perfectly placed over my pulse. I tried to warn myself and I just didn't even listen. Welcome to a day in my life.

"Fuck off," I bite out shakily, cursing quietly upon realizing I still have no control over my trembling voice. "Just tell me what you're getting at," I say quietly, the words barely registering in the darkness around us.

Sal breathes deeply, almost like an obnoxious sigh while his fingers play with the edge of my shirt at my back. "Careful with what you say. I want you to speak, but not like that," he grunts, forehead pressing into mine.

I take a deep breath of my own, almost choking on the sudden influx of fresh air into my body after I'd hardly been getting any for a good couple minutes. "Then say it," I hiss. "You're so worried about me using my words, why don't you use yours too?"

"Because I'm in charge," his rough voice holds so much edge, so little patience, and never-ending anticipation as his hand that barely brushes along my neck moves quickly until his fingers are gripping my jaw, forcing my face closer to his.

Sals fingers dig into my cheeks as my lips skim along his prosthetic. We're so close now, and all the breath I'd just taken in is lost on me again. "Maybe I don't want to tell you," he rasps out, fingers squeezing a little tighter.

A shaky breath falls from my lips and suddenly I can't look anywhere near him s as my palms grow clammy and my knees begin to tremble. I'm so close to... I don't know what I'm close to doing, but I really want to do something. It's killing me to sit here with his hands on me this way and play the submissive bit.

"You were the one who told me to speak more," I whisper, glancing from where I think his eyes are to the rest of his prosthetic-- all of which are, unfortunately, invisible to me in the darkness. "The same should go for you."

He's quiet, fingers still gripping at my side and my jaw. But after a moment, his hold loosens and then he's trailing his fingertips across my chin. His touch is featherlight, tickling every inch of skin that he touches until he stops at the middle of my neck. And he pauses for a moment, makes me wait with bated breath and a pounding heart.

Then, the breath gets knocked out of me when he quickly and aggressively wraps his hand around my throat. Sal squeezes, causing a rush of air to push past my lips-- a last bit I didn't know I had. "This seem familiar?" he rasps.

I blink through the shock, listening as Sal grunts quietly, waiting for me to do or say something. I gulp as best as I can with his restricting hand on my neck.

His fingers flex around my skin and he takes a step closer, causing butterflies to form in my stomach. They invade my mind, clouding all rational sense that I once thought I had. The butterflies are dark and carry around all the sinful feelings I've tried so hard to ignore, to push aside.

But the truth is that no matter how hard I try to hide it, I'm attracted to Sally Face and it's probably time I do something about it. It's time to get him out of my system. Once will do.

With a raspy breath, I drag my hand farther up his bare chest and all the way to his shoulder to wrap it around the back of his neck.

My heart pounds relentlessly against my ribcage, fighting to try and tell Sal to have his way with me itself. It's sickening, really, how far I've fallen into the depths of this ridiculous attraction toward him. And now I'm trying not to wrap myself around him. Trying to calm my racing heart. Trying to stop my quaking hands. Trying to prevent my legs from giving out.

With the last bit of confidence I have at the moment, I use my hand to bring Sal's face to mine. His prosthetic forehead meets my mask with a little clack that echoes around the small bathroom. He huffs out a laugh in response and it takes everything in me not to slap him fucking silly. "Yes," I try to say against his tight grip.

It's one word. One syllable. But it's all it takes. All it takes for just one of us to snap. And the snap is beautiful.

Sal takes a deep breath, like he's either preparing himself or trying to calm down. Either way, something in him loses whatever fight he was in the middle of. He wraps one arm around my back, tightens his hold on my neck, and walks me backward until I'm roughly smashed against the wall.

He loosens his grip just a bit so I can catch the breath that fell from me upon hitting the wall, but then he's using the hand he had around my back to trail it down the outside of my thigh. His fingers are cool against my sensitive skin as he grabs onto my knee and lifts it, wrapping my leg around his hips.

Neither of us make a sound. My heart continues to yell for Sal to do more. I'm starting to think he may hear my internal pleas because he answers them each and every time.

With my leg securely placed around him, he wraps his arm around my waist again. Then, he slides his hand past the waistband of my short and into my underwear until he's gripping onto my bare ass.

My mouth drops open and I shut my eyes. No words pass between us for a minute as he massages my butt, getting a good grip on it to yank me closer to him.

And then our hips meet. His sweatpants do absolutely nothing to hide his hard cock as it slams against my clothed pussy, creating such delicious friction that I nearly cry out at the feeling. And he knows.

His hand falls from my throat and is soon replaced by his prosthetic face, his nose running along the length of my neck. Just knowing he's so close, alongside the rough surface of his prosthetic leaving a trail of goosebumps on each inch of skin he touches, makes me push myself closer to him.

He hums, satisfied when I bring my other hand to the side of his throat. I can't see his tattoo, but I can imagine it there. Covering the warm side of his neck, just below my fingertips.

"Listen to me," he says against my neck, bringing his face up so that his nose is brushing mine again. His voice is shaky, deep, raspy. Dangerous. "I'm going to show you how to use your words. Okay?"

I nod softly against him, breathing deeply. "Okay," I whisper back, my voice betraying whatever front I was hoping to keep up. It almost sounds like a whine.

He nods back, running a veiny hand through my hair. He starts at my forehead, dragging his fingers through the tendrils until he hits the base of my neck, cupping it and tilting my head up a bit more. "Good."

"Here's what I'm going to do to you," he starts off, breathing deeply. He tilts his head and the only reason I can tell is because his nose is at an angle now, still brushing mine. And then his prosthetic lips gently touch mine again. "I'm going to slide my hand into the front of your shorts, under your panties, and I'm going to fuck you with my fingers." His voice is ragged and his hand squeezes my ass tighter. Meanwhile, my own breath catches in my throat and the panties he was just talking about grow wet. No way is he able to say shit like that and not feel nervous about it... but at the same time, his words definitively broke the last bit of that awkward barrier between us.

"And all you have to do," he continues, pulling his hand away from my butt and out of my shorts, bringing it up and between us. His tone is casual and a bit sprightly-- desire swirling around underneath, hardly hidden at all. "is take it like a good girl. That sound good?" Then his index finger boops the tip of my nose.

I'm so sure my stomach has dropped out of my ass and I'm thrust onto the cusp of cumming just because of his dirty words. It happens so quickly that I'm holding him tighter and mentally cursing myself when a low, quiet groan escapes my throat.

Sal chuckles in response. But it almost sounds like a childish, excited, dark little giggle. "Eager, are we?" he asks, using the same hand he booped my nose with to grab my chin, bringing me just a tad closer to him. "You need to tell me if that plan is okay. If you don't say anything, we'll sit here like this all night. Consent is key."

I couldn't speak right now even if I wanted to. There's no oxygen left in me. I lost it all when he told me this plan he formulated in the depths of his salacious mind. But I want him to implement that plan too. And it won't happen if I just continue to sit here, breathless with my leg around his hips and his hand buried in my hair.

"I can hold out, Vi," he decides to say, voice biting in a way that's meant to push me along. "But can you?"

No. I absolutely fucking can't. My pussy is aching and he hasn't even touched it yet. My underwear is uncomfortably wet and my legs are quaking like a leaf-- I'm sure he can feel it.

So I take a breath and prepare myself for the hell that is to come. "Sounds like a plan," I force out quietly, trying to keep the background mewl to minimum. I'm not a fucking cat and this guy isn't going to make me purr for him... though, he does have potential.

"It better," he replies to me, voice suddenly much deeper and dangerous compared to the last thing he said to me. The sound sends a jolt of electricity through my veins and suddenly, I think my expectations of this aren't set too high. If anything, my expectations aren't high enough. All this time, I assumed he'd never actually be able to do as well as I was hoping he would, but I'm starting to see that he may be better than I could ever comprehend.

Sal is desperate as he slides the hand on my chin down my body. Between my breasts, over my stomach, and all the way to the top of my shorts. He waits there, seeing what I'll do. But I'm breathless, shivering from his light touch and about to kick off my shorts myself because of how ridiculous soaked my underwear is.

A man can be good in bed, but a man who's good with words is ten times better. The two together? I didn't know it was possible. But I'm pretty sure this combination could cure the world of depression.

I hold my breath, pushing my hips a bit closer to him when he drags his fingertips along the waistband of my shorts. I can feel my heart pounding in every inch of my body and it's starting to make me feel insane. All I can hear is my rapid, pitiful heart waiting for something that... honestly, something that he's probably teasing me about. I doubt he'll actually do anything. He probably just wants to humiliate me, use this as leverage. Tell everyone that I tried to fuck him and he had to reject me.

This fear works through me quickly-- so quickly that the lust I was just feeling freezes and gets replaced with embarrassment. I'm about to pull my leg away from him and push him back, get him away from me. But he must sense something because he finally pushes his cold hand into my shorts and immediately under my panties, slowly inching closer to my swollen, aching clit that's skipped the anxiety and gone straight to wanting.

Where I was just about to get him away from me, I arch my back off the wall instead, hoping and wishing his hand would travel faster and relieve me of the ache slowly building in my abdomen. He's the only one who can do it now-- I wouldn't be able to finish myself off after this scene.

And as always, regarding tonight at least, he listens in on my thoughts. His cold fingers gently brush over my needy clit. It's a light touch full of meaning and unspoken promises. That alone has me tipping over the edge that I had to ignore the past few nights after Sal told me to wait for him over our phone call.

I swallow down a moan that so desperately wants to escape and hold onto him a little tighter, using my free hand to reach over his shoulder and grab onto his back.

He hums lustfully, rubbing his nose against the cheek of my mask. He's so close. I can smell the musky scent of his cologne and shampoo, the fresh rain-like scent of his body wash. I can feel his hair tickling my neck and shoulders. I can feel his heart slam against his chest-- and that's when I realize that maybe the quick pace of my heart isn't the only heartbeat I've been feeling this entire time. His embrace is all-consuming; makes my head spin.

"You're being so good and quiet," he whispers to me. "Keep doing that." He applies more pressure to my clit with his index and middle finger, moving them in a slow circular motion that drives me up the damn wall. "Such an obedient slut."

I'm about to pass out.

It turns out he's smart. Before he puts anymore focus on my clit, he moves his hand down and slides his fingers against my wet folds, breathing deeply upon feeling me. "Fuck, you're soaked," he acknowledges, voice shaking with what I would assume is barely held back consideration for what I want. But I really don't care-- I'll take whatever he'll give me. And right now, I'm desperate to feel his fingers sink inside me. And for some ridiculous reason he doesn't do it, just teases my folds and soaks up whatever little bit of my juices that he can.

He presses me farther into the wall, a groan following his movements. I think he's as desperate as I am now.

He finally does something more with his hand again, bringing it back up. Just as his now wet fingers touch my clit, a startlingly loud knock sounds on the door.

The spell that had captured us ruptures as Sal practically jumps out of his skin, fingers digging into the base of my neck as his other hand disappears from my shorts.

I swear my heart stops for a moment upon hearing who knocked on the door.

"Sally, is that you, man?" Larry's sleepy but frantic voice says from the other side of the door. I hold my breath, and Sal holds me. "I need to piss so bad that I swear my uterus is about to burst."

I can hear Sal audibly gulp and that's how I know that the situation is bad.

At any other time, I'd be cackling over Larry's claim. But right now, I'm horrified because Sal and I are about to get caught in the bathroom together.

Suddenly, I'm yanked away from the wall and pulled in another direction. I almost stumble over Sal's quick pace, but follow him anyway. But when my calves hit the edge of the bathtub and a gentle shove on my shoulder makes me lean back, I grab onto his wrist because no. Fucking. Way.

"Sal," I hiss quietly. "Are you insane? I'm not hiding in the fucking bathtub!"

"Just shut up, it's only for maybe three minutes, okay?" he whispers back, agitation tinging his voice-- as per usual.

"No! This is even more incriminating than you and I doing the walk of shame out of this damn bathroom together," I reply to him, squeezing his wrist tighter.

Sal makes an aggravated sound then grabs onto the back of my knees. He forces them to bend, holding me up with his weight as I fall back toward the bathtub. I want to scream. No way is this about to happen-- no way did he literally just force me into this tub.

My ass hits the bottom of the tub with a little thump that automatically makes Larry start banging on the door.

I look up to where I imagine Sal is, leaning over me as I curl up onto the ceramic floor. "Wait," he says. "Don't say a word. All you have to do is exactly what I told you, 'kay? Take it like a good girl. Sit there and be quiet. Don't even breathe if you think it'll be too loud."

He pulls his arms away from me and I feel like I'm going to vomit. "I'll reward you for this." I don't want a damn reward. I want to disappear. But before I can object, his fingers gently grip onto my chin. I'm shocked by the his soft touch, especially by his next quiet words that send a wave of heat through my body. "Don't worry, little lamb. I won't lead you to the slaughter," he adds that sweet promise of guiding me correctly, but I've never trusted him before. Why should I put my faith in him now just because he used that oddly adorable pet name?

But the curtain is slowly being closed and I find myself doing as he said-- curling up on my side and holding my stupid fucking breath. It's the only option I have left. Fuck, this is humiliating.

I hear his soft footsteps grow quiet, and then the door opens. My heart races and my entire body tenses up.

"Lar," Sal's raspy voice starts, tinged with equal amounts of amusement and frustration. "You'd be shitting out babies left and right if you had a uterus."

The light flicks on and my eyes widen. Oh, fuck.

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?" Larry retorts, not even bothering to close the door as he moves closer to the toilet and, consequently, closer to me. My eyes are about to pop out of my damn head. "You don't know that."

"Actually, I do. You fuck so often that you'd have to have been pregnant a couple times by now," Sal immediately responds. I can just imagine him leaning against the bathroom door with his arms crossed over his chest, watching Larry.

And the Larry in question has pulled his dick out at this point because I'm suddenly able to hear a relieved groan. And then he's pissing. Larry fucking Johnson is peeing right next to me and his best friend was just about to finger fuck me. What the hell kind of situation is this?

"Yea well, maybe I'm immune to children then. I don't know," Larry mumbles. I'm trying so hard to keep it together right now. I don't know if I want to cry or laugh, but neither of them are a good idea.

"You better hope you are," Sal says in response. "I don't need more of you running around here. Not to mention, those children would have to be pushed out of your dick so... not sure you'd want that." His tone screams disgust and pain and just thinking about it makes me shiver a bit too. Sounds painful. But other people go through childbirth all the damn time too. It's a painful thing all around, I'd bet.

I hear Larry hiss as he flushes the toilet then turns on the water in the faucet, washing his hands. "Yea, I think you're right then," he says, pretending to gag over the thought. "I definitely don't have a uterus. I can't imagine birthing a kid from my dick."

"Other people do it all the time. Respect the birth," Sal says nonchalantly. "Now get out. I need to take a shower."

"What?" Larry asks, clearly confused. "You took a shower earlier. Oh-- wait," his tone changes into something more playful, knowing. And then, his voice goes quieter "Did you have another wet dream about Vi?"

I bite down onto my bottom lip to contain my betraying throat that suddenly wants to choke on that little bit of information.

Nah, no way. Larry's just fucking with him.

I hear a smack and then a giggle and "Ouch!" that sounds a lot like Larry. And then Sal grinds out, "Shut the fuck up. I've never had a wet dream before in my life, especially not about Vi."

"Ah, you're so in denial!" Larry laughs viciously. "You can't hide it now. You literally begrudgingly admitted it to me two days ago. You dreamt that you and Vi fucked. I'd call that a wet dream, man."

"You're fucking delusional, Larry," Sal grunts out ferociously. Oh, he's so pissed. And I'm about to piss myself in this tub. I'm so going to give him shit for this later.

"Um, I'm not delulu, dude," Larry says matter-of-factly. "That term is reserved for you. So, come on. Admit it."

"I'm going to punch you, dude," Sal says, and he's concerningly calm. Which, if anything, should be a warning sign for Larry.

But Larry doesn't heed that warning. He only continues. "Admit it or I won't leave," he says, giggling all the while.

I flinch upon hearing a loud thud followed by the bathroom door slamming against the wall. Larry starts throwing out whispered profanities. "Fuck, sorry!" he says, still managing to laugh. Did Sal actually punch him?

"I told you I'd do it," Sal says nonchalantly.

These two are going to be the reason I get caught. They need to end this shit before I actually start laughing.

"I'm not even worried about the punch. You've got a mean ass right hook. I bet you fuck bitches good with that hand," Larry says suggestively.

Sal scoffs, likely in disgust at Larry's words-- but I'm tuning in because hopefully he does fuck bitches good with that hand, especially since I'm currently considered one of the bitches in question.

"So I've been told," Sal says snarkily. "Now get out. Please."

Larry barks out a laugh that could very possibly wake everyone up. "Test that theory out on Vi."

"Okay, Larry. Seriously, fuck off." Sal's growing agitated again and he throws every bit of it into his voice.

"Fine, man. Fine," Larry says cooly, his voice moving farther away from me. "Respect the birth." Another cackle, and then the door slowly shuts.

I wait silently, too afraid to move. One sound might send Larry right back over here.

But Sal moves, and this time the light stays on.

He throws the shower curtain open and looks down at me with his stupidly pretty blue eyes. Right now, they hold a ton of agitation, but some very surface-level lust, too. I can see it so well.

He watches me as I move into a sitting position, both of us just staring at each other. I don't want this to be awkward. He's literally already had his hand on my pussy-- that's more than enough. I'm perfectly fine with calling it a night and heading back to bed.

Sal, on the other hand, has other ideas. He looks over at the shower curtain, grabs it, then hops into the bathtub with me, crouching down in front of me. He closes the curtain again, then looks to me.

It's so frustratingly nice to see him with the lights on now. Even though it's cramped with both of us in the tub together, he looks so pretty. Messy cerulean hair brushing his shoulders, azure eyes alight with curiosity and barely veiled desire. Pale, toned tummy on full display for me. His tattoos darkened by the obscurity of the curtain. While his dagger tattoo is hidden, I can see the other beautiful tattoos on both his arms.

My breath catches in my throat. Sal is nowhere near Larry's level, but he has some muscle on him. I've always assumed that his biceps came from playing guitar so much, but abs are a different story. And he definitely has those.

And that shirtless photo of him that Larry sent me a while back? The one where I could see part of a tattoo peeking out from the top of his pants? Oh yea, I can see it again and I'm about to start foaming at the mouth. Somehow, I knew deep in my soul that getting to see him during this entire ordeal we've created would make everything feel so much better.

And my claim still stands as Sal bends his head forward a bit, making a shadow cross his face. It darkens his pretty blue eyes and fills me with exhilaration.

"I'm not done with you," he says darkly, eyes raking over me. He leaves a trail of heat on every inch of skin that his eyes observe and I find my self scooting backward toward the other end of the bathtub. But, I still nod my head at him, watching his eyes narrow upon noticing my nonverbal response.

My brain is on overdrive as Sal follows me, crawling my way until he's hovering over me. Both of his hands are resting on the floor beside my bare thighs. He keeps his gaze on mine, watching me like a hawk. I feel like I can't breathe. Everything is so tense but... I like it.

"You don't have to speak," he says, tilting his head to the side. "I'll let it go for now. That's your reward."

That makes me furrow my brows even if he can't see it. "That's the reward?" I ask softly, still more than nervous with him leaning over me like this, knowing he had his hand in my shorts just a minute or two ago. "I expected something better," I add, sucking in a quick breath.

His eyes slowly squint, like he's smiling beneath that prosthetic. "Yea?" he says seductively, trailing his eyes over me yet again. "I don't think I need to say this, but you shouldn't expect shit from me. Ever." His eyes meet mine again and my heart stutters over the heat in his gaze. "But I'll humor you for once. Only once," he warns. "So, let's see if I can do better that."

He leans back a bit to distribute his weight, pulls my knees apart, then grabs onto my hips, yanking me toward him suddenly. I gasp quietly when my hips collide with his, creating that same friction between my pussy and his hardened cock just like earlier.

A little mewl echoes off the ceramic around us and Sal closes his eyes, tilts his head back, and seems to relish in the sound. He groans then looks down at me again, devilish intentions swimming around in his sapphire eyes.

My underwear never dried in the first place, but that sudden heat is back. I don't want to run away like I previously did. I'd much rather sit here and see what he has to offer.

I shimmy my hips a bit, rubbing over the bulge in his sweats. Sal groans again, gripping my hips tighter.

"Enough of that," he rasps huskily. "I'm not fucking you in this small ass tub."

I roll my eyes as if to say whatever, but he doesn't comment on it. Only narrows his eyes before letting go of my sides to lean over me again.

He puts one hand down beside my hips then uses the other to tap on my waist. "Take them off," he says quietly.

I gulp down my nerves. I don't have to be nervous. He probably won't even look down to see what he's doing, and even if he does, he'll literally be touching me so it doesn't matter.

With a quick breath, I lean down a bit and grab onto my shorts. I push them down as far as I can, then kick them off the rest of the way.

Sal nods once I'm finished and then that free hand of his brushes over my stomach, pushing my shirt up. His fingertips drag over my bare skin, and then he travels lower to meet the top of my underwear. My breath catches in my throat again, and even more so when he pauses. He gives me a sideways look that makes me cock an eyebrow in response.

"I meant these too," he says, hooking a finger into my really pretty and really expensive black lace underwear. And to my utter horror, he twirls his finger into the fabric, bunches it up in his hand, and then with a little grunt of effort, effectively rips it apart.

I'm gaping now. Lace isn't hard to tear, but I didn't fucking want him to rip my underwear off of me.

But the little smile in his eyes says that he wants to make me mad, and somehow, he just knew that my lace panties were the perfect way to get the reaction he wanted.

He pulls the broken fabric out from under me and I can't help but brood a bit as he does so.

It all falls away as he cups my pussy in his now warm hand though. It was cold earlier, but after fighting with my underwear, it's warmed up a bit and the feeling makes heat rush through my body in response.

I squeeze my eyes shut, whimpering pathetically beneath him. Sal breathes deeply, a satisfied little hum leaving him just like it did earlier.

He moves his hand, dragging two digits between my folds to wet his fingertips, and then he's rubbing slow circles on my clit.

Every circle he draws against my bundle of nerves is thought-out, methodical, and borderline painful. It's just the same movement over and over again, but it feels amazing. I can't help but wonder how much he's practiced to be able to get me with the simplest form of pleasure, but I don't care. He's touching me and it feels better than I ever could have imagined. That's what matters.

I let out a shaky breath, finally opening my eyes to see him nearly glaring at me. It's not something out of anger, more so intense focus. And he's watching me so closely, mapping out the way my lips part. Glancing to my chest as I take a deep, shaky breath.

"That feels good?" he says softly but darkly, blinking up at me.

I nod, pulling my bottom lip between my teeth. He applies more pressure to my clit, nodding back at me as his slow circles pick up speed.

I shiver beneath him, gulping down sounds that so desperately want to be out in the open air.

"Do what you want," Sal says, seeing my obvious struggle. "As long as you're quiet, I don't care. Whore out all you want, I certainly won't stop you."

I keep my eyes on him, contemplating his words. I'm not sure that's a great idea. Larry could still be up. Ash could wake up. Todd could come out to look for food. It's too dangerous.

But Sal doesn't seem to like my reluctance. He uses his knees to spread my thighs, giving him more space to move his fingers quicker and to keep me pinned beneath him.

I sigh, leaning my head back against the back of the tub. Pleasure is rolling through me in waves. All the frustrating, desirous pain I felt earlier is slowly building up into what I'm sure is going to be an amazing orgasm.

I buck my hips up to force his hand to put more pressure on my sensitive pussy. Sal answers by leaning back a bit and using his free hand to push my hips back down to the floor. I open my eyes again, my breathing growing quicker the longer he teases my clit.

A lustful moan finally breaches the seal of my lips and that seems to sate Sal quite a bit. He finally answers my unspoken request, pressing into my clit harder and rubbing faster. I can't help but arch my back, nearly writhing beneath him.

Despite the initial fear I felt about being bare beneath him, I glance down at the space between us, noting the way his fingers work me so prettily-- chipped black nail polish, bracelets, and all. But, no rings.

I note that little observation in my head, my panting breaths catching in my throat when I realize he has all the opportunity in the world to make me cum like he originally promised.

The sight and the new knowledge makes me gulp and I look up again, trailing my eyes over his torso, over his tattooed arms, up his neck, and back to his prosthetic face. He watches me ogle him, taking me in as well.

But just this focus on one part of me isn't enough anymore. I'm in the clear for more and I know that now. So without breaking eye contact, I murmur, "More."

Sal breathes deeply, using his free hand to gently brush over my boobs. It's a gentle touch, but without a bra on, I feel so much especially when his fingers rub over my hardened nipple.

And then, I'm mewling like the kitten I swore I wasn't earlier. I can't help it and he knows that well enough.

Sal holds me still as I twitch and shake beneath him, calming me with a soothing, "Shh. You're okay. Stay still for me."

I try to follow his command, attempting to stop the way my thighs instinctively clamp around his legs. He doesn't seem to mind that bit all that much. But he keeps that free hand on the inside of my thigh, pressing it down and leaving me shaking.

Finally, his fingers move from my clit back down to my folds. But instead of sinking into my pussy, he teases me yet again, simply rubbing his soaked fingers up and down while watching my facial reactions.

"Do you want my fingers?" he asks, voice raspy and serious. So different compared to the usual icy tone he uses with me.

"I want your dick," I answer breathlessly, moaning out softly when his fingers dip just a bit into my dripping cunt. "But yes. Your fingers will suffice."

Sal laughs, finally obliging me by plunging two fingers into my sopping pussy. I cry out, wincing at the sound just as he slaps a hand over my mouth.

"Be good," he says gruffly, breath heavy as he glares into my eyes. He pulls his fingers out then shoves them back in, making my eyes squeeze shut. "And yea, they'll suffice," he continues, carefully pulling his hand away from my mouth as he curls his two fingers within me. A whimper fights past my lips at the sweet, carnal feeling he gives me. And then he whispers, "For now."

My eyes fly open and I stare at him in shock. For now? So, this isn't the end?

He seems to see the words dancing in my head, so Sal squints his eyes at me and starts relentlessly pounding his fingers into my pussy to shut me up. My head flies back, nearly slamming into the back of the tub. My lips part and the sound I'm about to make is going to be awfully loud, but Sal probably predicts that too.

He shoves two fingers into my mouth, pushing them back as far as my throat allows.

I moan against his fingers, quaking as his brutal pace never lets up. He continuously thrusts his digits into me quickly, pausing only to curl his fingers. Which only elicits more muffled and unintelligible pleas from me.

I don't even know what I'm begging for anymore-- for him to finish me off or to make this last even longer.

He pushes his fingers deeper into me even though he's reached the top of his hand and can't possibly go any farther. Doesn't stop him from trying though. He grunts, slamming his fingers deeper and harder. Curling his digits, using his thumb to rub quick circles onto my clit. Doing all he can to push me over the edge.

I suck on the fingers he shoved into my mouth, grabbing onto his wrist to keep him there.

Sal's breath hitches in his throat and he seems to choke for a second, but then he gathers his wits and continues to fuck me good just like he promised. His fingers curl again, hitting a spot that I didn't know existed before. I cry out, squeezing his wrist in my hand and grabbing onto his shoulder with my other hand. Fuck, that felt good. I could cry.

Sal repositions his legs between mine, bending a bit lower as he slams his digits into me, hitting that beautifully delicious spot again. "There?" he rasps out breathlessly upon hearing my dirty groan. I nod my head vigorously, silently begging him to stay right where he is.

I watch him with tears in my eyes and note the second his eyes widen a bit, never-ending focus and dedication dancing in his cerulean gaze. "Got it," he says darkly, "Give me thirty seconds."

Just as quickly as he says this, Sal pulls his fingers out of my mouth and wraps them around my neck instead, squeezing tightly. My quiet mewl is broken up from the lack of air, but I don't fight him. I hold on tighter and let him do his work because he hasn't led me astray at all. I trust his thirty second claim.

Sal pulls his fingers nearly all the way out of my pussy and I open my eyes, groaning at the loss of his digits that filled me up. But then he's pushing three fingers into me. They squeeze against my restricting pussy, but he still manages to hit that same spot that made my vision blur after about two seconds.

My mouth falls open and my chest rises and falls quickly with my panting breaths. I close my eyes, tilt my head up to the ceiling, and let the shivers and quakes take over my body as Sal's fingers pound into my sopping cunt with no hesitance. His movements are so fast, so deep, so filling that it's just enough to push me over the edge within the allotted time that he promised.

My orgasm hits me like a brick wall, making the building ache fall away and leave only the most mouthwatering debauchery I've ever experienced in my life. My ears ring, I lose all feeling in my limbs, my vision blurs again, and so many unintelligible words tumble out of my mouth. Words that he nor I can hear or comprehend because of the hand restricting my airways.

I cum all over his fingers and he rides me through every second of it. He slows his pace and his hand loosens around my neck, letting me breathe a bit easier.

I huff over the pounding in my chest, letting my body go limp against the bathtub floor.

I breathe heavily, still panting like I just ran a marathon when Sal slowly pulls his hand out of my soaked, worn-out cunt. But he keeps his hand languidly wrapped around my throat, praising me with a light squeeze followed by a purred, "Good girl."

After a moment of catching my breath after that ridiculously mind-blowing orgasm, I open my eyes to see Sal hovering over me with a refreshed look in his eyes.

Neither of us say a word. And I'm more than satisfied. I got far more than I expected from him and that's both awesome and a problem. Because I definitely don't want this to be the last time we do this. It was too fucking good.

I take a breath, watching Sal fully sit up from the corner of my eyes. He wrings his hand, tilting his head as he look down at it. "I did a fucking number on you, didn't I?" he proudly states, blue eyes glancing up at me. "I never took you for a dirty whore. But you're a good one."

His words make my cheeks turn a dark shade of pink while my heart slams into my ribs. Anyone else would think he's insulted me, but I know he doesn't mean it that way. If anything, this is more praise. This is common knowledge to me after finding out that he has a degrading kink. Shit, I guess I have one too, then.

I decide to sit up, face-to-face with him. My mask's nose brushing against his prosthetic nose. And I look him dead in the eye, watching and waiting for his reaction as I trail a hand up his leg, over his thigh.

I hear his sharp intake of breath and he leans away from me, getting into a position similar to the one I was just in moments ago. So now I hover over him, meaningfully passing my hand over the impressive bulge in his sweats. That's a nice size.

His eyes flutter shut and a wave of heat hits me again. He's really going to let me do this and I'm all in for it.

I grab the waistband of his sweatpants and work them over his hips and down his thighs. He does much like I did earlier, kicks them off and on top of my shorts. Sal groans when there's less restriction against his hard cock, his sweatpants quickly replaced by my hand as I palm him through his boxers.

Sal hisses, squeezing his eyes shut.

"I should rip these off of you too," I say softly, sweetly. His eyes snap open again and he glares down at me, though that glare is clouded by the lust swimming around in those pretty eyes.

"Don't you fucking dare," he huskily replies, squirming a bit when I squeeze his dick.

"And why shouldn't I?" I ask him, tilting my head inquisitively. "Give me one good reason."

He grunts disapprovingly, glare turning into something more ferocious. "Do it and I won't let you touch me at all."

I shrug. "That's not too bad. After all, you honored your promise. As far as I'm concerned, I don't have to return the favor at all." I say this all while rubbing his dick, watching excitedly as he twitches with each stroke of my hand.

"So what, is this a pity job?" he says between breaths, gasping lightly.

"No," I answer him, squeezing his cock again. "This is me giving in."

His glare morphs, turning into a lustful gaze. He just stares at me, gulping. His hair falls behind him, giving me a perfect view of his dagger tattoo. I can't help but reach my free hand up to trace it, still keeping my hand over his dick that flexes here and there.

Suddenly, it's clear he's had enough of my teasing. He clamps both hands onto my hips, fingers still slick from my liquids. He growls out dangerously, "Come here." Then, he's yanking me toward him. I stumble over his spread legs and clamber on top of his cock-- and he stops me there. I'm tethered onto him, his biceps flexing as I try to move off of him, but he doesn't let me.

"Really?" I say shakily. "You can't let me have your dick? You said 'for now' earlier." I'm not sure where the words or the confidence is coming from, but it's here.

Sal scoffs, shuddering despite his conflicting emotions. "Who says you can't have it?" he grumbles. "Stop being a fucking brat."

"Don't tell me to stop the impossible," I tell him, placing a hand onto his chest to stabilize myself. Don't get this confused, I'm losing my shit on the inside. I didn't expect to be sitting on my arch nemesis's dick with just a thin piece of fabric between us tonight.

"You're gonna be like that? Really? You just came all over me. Be grateful and fucking behave for once," he says, gasping as I move my hips to try and get off of him again.

Our gazes connect when I realize what I've done. And that gives Sal the opportunity to do exactly what he had in mind when he pulled me on top of him.

He squeezes my sides and shimmies his body a little lower. Then, he uses his grip on me to grind my hips down on top of him.

It's a nice feeling, the friction against his swollen cock and my still needy clit. We both groan quietly, the combined sounds so dirty that they become pretty. And I guess that's the way all sexual things work.

I grab onto his shoulders and grind down onto his dick again, biting my bottom lip. Sal groans at the feeling, fingers digging into my hips. I don't mind this at all. In fact, I've decided that I won't be moving. But that doesn't mean I'm about to let go of what he just said.

"You're the one who should be grateful," I whimper, sucking in a breath through my teeth as I push myself onto him again. "I doubt you get cummed on every day, huh? I've behaved long enough tonight. That ship has sailed," I bite out, wrapping a strand of his hair around my index finger as I rut against him.

Sal guides my hips, pushing me to move faster against his throbbing cock. I mewl in response, digging my fingernails into his pale skin.

"That's not a good excuse," he says, his voice grated as he forces the words out through his undoubtedly clenched teeth. "You don't have to be a bitch all the fucking time. Give me a break."

"Never," I tell him immediately, grinding even faster against him as I feel myself working up to another orgasm. It's quick, seeing as I'm still sensitive from the orgasm I had just seconds.

A mind-boggling, erotic, and downright lewd moan leaves Sal's mouth when I thrust particularly hard against him. He sucks in a quick breath and throws his head back, staring up at the ceiling as ragged breaths make his body shake.

I repeat the motion, rubbing myself harshly against him just to hear him make that sound again. It was so unexpected but so welcomed. I felt it in my soul, felt it in my stomach. It was everywhere.

But when I do it a third time, Sal pauses our movements with a hand on my hips. "Vi, stop," he hisses. "We can't be loud. And if you keep doing that, that's what we're both going to be."

I look at him like he's stupid, though I'm reeling on the inside over his admittance of being pretty vocal. That'll be good info to utilize in the future. "How do you expect to cum if I can't make you feel good?" I ask him dumbly, shoving his hands off of me so I can grind my hips into his yet again.

He doesn't seem to like my blatant ignorance of what he just told me. He sits up, looking me dead in the eye with a nasty glare. I guess he expects himself to be intimidating enough to make me stop, but if that's the case, he's got another thing coming.

Even in this position, I slide a bit between his legs and rut myself against him again. Sal's glaring eyes quickly widen in surprise and he watches me for a moment, just lets me pleasure myself against him.

I guess he decides on the fuck-it option eventually because he soon joins me, meeting each little thrust I put out.

He groans out again, wrapping an arm around my waist and the other around my shoulders, holding me close against him. His head drops onto my shoulder as he pushes his hips up to meet mine, his cock brushing my clit so perfectly.

"So good," he whimpers breathlessly, holding me tight against him. I release a shaky sigh chewing on my bottom lip as I throw an arm around his neck, burying my hands in his soft azure hair. "Fucking slut."

My eyes squeeze shut and we're both feeling fucking amazing for the time being. He's decided to ignore me, which means I win, especially if that degrading pet name is anything to go by. And I'm going to cum for a second time. This is damn wonderful.

"I'm close," Sal warns, a whimper falling past his lips as he grips onto me tighter. Holy hell, it didn't take him too long. That's so flattering. "Say something," he breathes.

Say something? What does he want me to say? Does he want permission to cum or something? That's nothing like him. Doesn't feel right.

But then I think back to that phone call we had, when he told me to tell him how much I hated him.

I gulp, scratching a hand up his back. "You're such an asshole," I whine, burying my face into his hair. "You make me feel so dirty, disgusting. And what's even worse about it-- what's worse about you-- is that I fucking crave it."

He groans, grabbing a fistful of my hair and yanking my head back. I yelp quietly, opening my eyes as he takes control, thrusting his hips against me. The yelp quickly turns into a dirty moan that makes him grip me even tighter.

"Going to cum for me again?" he says between quick breaths and erotic grunts. "What a good bitch."

A shuddering breath falls from my lips as addictive pleasure works its way through me again. I want to tell him to shut up, but I really fucking enjoy when he says things like this. It's so damn nice, makes everything else we're both feeling ten times better.

"Please," I rasp out. "Faster."

Sal obliges, running his prosthetic nose down the length of my neck as we grind harder and faster against each other, the head of his cock rubbing my clit in all the right ways.

And suddenly, I'm thrown into my second orgasm of the night and fighting to stay sitting upright. What helps is Sal's strong grip around me. He lets out a primal grunt of his own before shuddering and moaning deeply, and the warmth that grows beneath me makes my own orgasm last even longer.

When it's all said and done, Sal and I are a mess of bodily fluids and heavy breathing, wrapped up in each other like it's natural.

But as we come down from our highs, the problem with this situation is that this isn't a natural thing for us. What's natural is anger, contempt, frustration. Hate.

So when I've finally caught my breath, I look into Sal's tired, glazed eyes. He looks back at me, no emotions visible as far as I can tell.

"I want a new pair of underwear," I whisper, watching and waiting for what happens next.

Sal takes a deep breath, eyes glancing over my face for a second before he lets the arm around my shoulders fall away. But his arm around my waist doesn't fall, only loosens. Then he shrugs. "Sucks to suck."

Well, it wasn't too hard to put us back right where we were all day. "Oh, you're such a dick," I huff out angrily.

"And you just rode mine," he says proudly, tapping his fingers against my side and tilting his head.

"Not by technicality," I inform him, rolling my eyes as I clamber off of him. I quickly turn around as I fetch my shorts off the tub floor behind me. I'd rather him see my ass over my still throbbing cunt. For fuck's sake. I can't believe I did this.

I step into my shorts and pull them up to my hips then grab the remnants of my lace panties and frown at them.

I turn back to Sal who's still sitting up, looking down at his boxers that are covered in his and my cum. "And what do you expect me to do about this?" He scoffs. "I'm a mess."

"Don't ask me," I tell him, opening the shower curtain and stepping onto the tiled bathroom floor. Sal looks up at me with glaring eyes. I smile slyly at him. "Sucks to suck."

He rolls his eyes and stands up, grimacing at the sheer amount of fluids on his underwear. I bet that's starting to get cold. "Don't be a bitch about it," Sal bites out.

I pinch my lips together and cross my arms over my chest. "I'm not being a bitch," I say. "I'm just... returning the favor."

Sal's head snaps up, that aggravation back in his eyes. That's what I'm used to.

"Get the fuck out," he says darkly. But this time, it's not in a sensual way. It's a warning.

So I turn my back to him and head toward the door, forcing my mind to go numb. This was our moment and that's it. It's smarter to keep this as a one time thing even if I'll still crave him for a while.

I twist the door numb. "Gladly."

_________

A/N::::: i did my best to edit in like the keep reading thing so i don't blind everyone with smut LMAO so we'll see if it works :3

HEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEEHHEHEHEHEHEH

now i literally don't know where the story is going. this is a rollercoaster, you guys are just the unlucky bunch stuck on the ride with me.

i hope you all enjoyed :3 trust the process! all my love <333

#sal fisher #sally face #larry johnson #ash campbell #todd morrison #travis phelps #enemies to lovers #sally face fandom #sally face fanfiction #fanfic #smut

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prettybrownelf · 2 years

Text

From Eden

Non MLM/NBLM DNI

Chapter 8

Pairings- Knight! Eddie Munson x Prince! Male! Reader

Summary- After a difficult night, the prince and his sworn protecter decide to have a day in the city. New and old feelings finally meet

Word Count- 3018

Content Warnings- Throwing Up, Slight Fluff

(Chapter 9)

Eddie wakes up to the sound of you puking.

The cold spot next to him in bed leaves a small pain in his heart as he stares at the ceiling. Last night is the only thing on his mind as he attempts to force himself to get out of bed. Eddie cringes as he hears you throw up again, slowly making his way over to the small bathing area to make sure you're ok.

You're not.

Hunched over the toilet, hands gripping the edges, you don't even realize Eddie is behind you as vomit forces itself out again. Eddie wordlessly rubs your back, feeling you jump a little at the contact as you catch your breath.

Sitting on the cold floor, he watches you put your head in your hands as a loud groan leaves your mouth. “Are you alright?” “Do I look fucking alright?” He has to bite his lip from laughing at you as he bends down to your level.

His body moves before his thoughts can tell him to stop, as he takes your chin in his hand to have you look up at him. Even like this, you still look stunning. Heat travels to his cheeks as your flushed face falls into his hand, seemingly cherishing the feeling as you take slow deep breaths.

Eddie refuses to move, savoring the small tender moment between the two of you. “I feel like shit.” The way you look up at him makes him swoon. Your puppy dog eyes shoot him right through the heart as you attempt to stand on your own two feet. You're wobbly, but at least you're not crying.

“Help me get ready please.” You ask, voice soft like silk as you slowly make your way back to your bedroom.

Please. You'd never asked him to do something politely before.

Maybe he's just overthinking all of this. His brain finally caught up to having some sort of feelings for you and now he can't even think straight when he's looking at you. Even when you're stumbling to get your clothes on he can't help but stare.

The curve of your hips, the bending of your waist, the way you flex your shoulder blades, the slight bend of your neck just begging for him to bite it.

Helping you slip on your normal black and gold attire, the feeling on your skin under his fingertips is enough to make his head spin in circles. His eyes catch yours in the mirror as you stumble back to the bathroom without a word.

Eddie hears you quickly brush your teeth as he stands motionless. What is he supposed to do with himself? Just your presence is enough to make him want to bend you over and fuck the shi–.

“Eddie” Your voice luckily cuts through his thoughts as you walk to the door. “I know it's your job to stay by my side but could you make sure I don't trip over myself today?” A nod is all he can muster up in return.

Your eyes seem to linger on him for a moment before you leave, Eddie close behind. He knows he's supposed to be alert when he's on the job, ready to attack at any second, but he can't. His mind refuses to release him from its hold as he stares at your back. Forcing his eyes from going any further down is harder than any sword training he's done.

He hasn't exactly had the time to sit and think about the realization he had last night. But the way he's started to notice the way your hips sway when you walk is making him think a lot more about it, no matter how much he tries to stop it.

Is he really in love with you? He spent the last years despising your entire existence, but the second there was an opportunity for you to be taken away from him, something in him switched. It's not like you liked him, you had cussed each other out not too long ago. But the tender way you were with him last night still plays in his head. The way you allowed yourself to be vulnerable with him. Sure he had seen you get upset, like when the two of you squabble in the garden, or after the argument you had with your father, but never like that.

“Eddie.” The whisper of your voice is so low he almost doesn't hear it as he stands to attention, looking down at your tired eyes. “Yes, My Lord?” You sigh as you lean against the wall, seemingly not caring about meeting your father to go over the guest list for your wedding. “I don't care about who's coming.” You seem to be talking to yourself more than you talking to him as you throw a devious smirk his way. “I want to go to town.” The regularly annoyed groan leaves Eddie's throat, though it's not as angry as it normally is. “My Lord, your father will be furious.” You roll your eyes playfully as you turn to go down the steps that lead to the garden. “What's he going to do? I'm getting married in only a few days, he can't do anything to me right now.” You turn to look at him from the bottom of the steps.

“I'm untouchable right now.”

The child-like grin on your face warms Eddie's heart. How could he say no to you? He sighs as he begins to walk down the stairs. “Fine. But only because I'm sworn to follow you.” The grin on your face gets brighter as you skip your way to the garden, Eddie following close behind, questioning every choice he's made up till this moment. But the pure joy radiating off you gives a sense of comfort and a slight ping of worry. You were just crying your eyes out yesterday, how are you suddenly so chipper?

His thoughts set themselves aside as he follows you through the streets of the city, watching strangers bow to you and give their congratulations on your wedding. Your mood seems to have improved at the drop of a hat as you step into a small, dingy bar. Patrons immediately stare at you as you sit at a small table in the back. A bar maiden takes your order, failing to hide the anxiety on her face as you lean back in the chair.

Eddie doesn't even realize how stiff he is till you touch his armored shoulder. “You can relax, you know.” Eddie gives a small glance at you as he lets his shoulders fall. It's strangely comforting, to see you be more of yourself.

The drinks come quickly as you immediately put the tankard to your lips. “Are you sure you want to get drunk again My Lord?” Eddie keeps his voice quiet to make sure no other patrons could hear. You giggle as you place the drink on the table. “I won't get drunk, at most ill get tipsy.” Eddie can't help but laugh with you as he takes a sip from his drink. “I've seen you get drunk twice in the last few weeks My Lord, I find it hard to believe you want to do it again.” You smile as you play with the hem on your jack, leaning your head back against the wall behind you. “I know, I'm sorry you had to see that.”

Did you just apologize to him?

It takes Eddie a moment to respond as he takes in the fact that you, of all people, apologized to him. “It's perfectly alright My Lord, you were going through some difficult things. It's only natural for you to try to cope.” When you roll your eyes he expects you to go back to your normal, angry, and annoyed self, the way you used to always be when he was around. But instead, you throw back your drink as you give him a small kick under the table. “You don't need to call me your Lord Eddie. No one can hear us, besides, it gets annoying.” Eddies took aback as he finishes his drink, assuming you were about to get up and leave. “What would you like me to call you?” You look at him like he's stupid. “My name.”

“Like you did last night.”

Heat fills Eddie's cheeks as he watches you stand up. He didn't think you would bring up what happened last night, or that you even remembered it with how fucked up you were. You begin to walk to the door, turning around to make sure he's behind you. “Let's have some fun!” And just like that you out the door, Eddie desperately trying to keep up with you as he watches you stop to talk to the townspeople, buying things from the market stall, all of it with a smile on your face.

A smile he's learned to love.

➵

The setting sun pours into the lavish guest bedroom as Robin paces around the room.

“I mean, what if someone does find out!” Nancy rolls her eyes as he puts her clothes back on, laughing at her girlfriend as she paces around in only her underwear.

“My love, no one is going to find out. Once I marry (Y/n) I'll tell him everything and we’ll work something out.” Robin looks at her like she's insane as she flops down on the bed next to her. Her words come out of her faster than her brain can register as Nancy slowly gives her the clothes that were discarded on the floor for her to put on while she rambles. “But what he doesn't understand. What if he gets super mad and tells his dad and then I get sent back across the ocean and I never get to see you again!” Nancy cuts Robin off with a sweet kiss on her lips. “Baby, I already talked to him. We both know we aren't in love with each other, but we agreed to try and make everything work out.” Nancy runs her hair through Robin's hair, resting her hand on her freckled cheek. “Everything will be ok, love.” Robin takes a deep breath and nods as she puts her clothes back on.

Nancy lays back in bed, enjoying the warmth of the sunset on her skin. “Once he knows about us I'm sure things will get better. He's a sweet boy.” Robin doesn't respond as she focuses on not being naked anymore. You truly are a nice guy, you seem sweet and understanding, but you're still a prince from one of the most powerful families Robin has ever heard of. You're unpredictable, and that's a worrying thought.

➵

The town celebrating upcoming weddings isn't something new. It happens every time, but being up close to the lights and the music was more than Eddie could have ever expected. He heard about your father's wedding from his uncle Wayne when he was younger. The rumor was the town rejoiced for your mother more than your father, but it was more of unspoken knowledge.

Now, as the townspeople dance in the lights on the torches and stars, he realizes that they're dancing for you.

You had dragged Eddie around the entire town today. Buying small things from shops and then giving whatever you got to random people you saw on the street, eating any pastry you could get your hands on, and talking to anyone who wanted to have a conversation. He had never seen you so at peace before.

Now that night had come, the lights hanging from the buildings lit up the streets as laughing and music filled your ears. Eddie could tell the noise piqued your interest as you made your way to the town square.

The beautiful stone below your feet is covered in dried paint of all colors, mimicking the shape of flower petals as a bunch of people dance together in the middle of the square. A small band plays together off the side as the observers clap along to the beat, laughing and smiling as they watch their friends dance the night away.

The pure joy that lights your face makes Eddie's heart flutter as you hold yourself up against the wall next to you, taking your shoes off. “What the hell are you doing?” You throw that full tooth grin at him as you hand your shoes to him. “I can't dance in these!” You laugh as you run into the middle of the dance circle, linking arms with an older woman, leaving Eddie to stand by the wall with everyone else, eyes never leaving you. The way the lights highlight your smile is enough to make him swoon, as he leans back against the brick behind him. The second the song ends you run over to him, handing him your jacket and sash, leaving you in a black button-up.

Before Eddie can try and convince you to get back to the castle, a small girl tugs on your sleeve as the next song starts back up.

“Excuse me, My Lord.” Her voice is small as she looks up at you with big brown eyes. You bend down to her height with a smile. “Yes, dear?” She giggles as she talks. “Would you like to dance with me?” You fake shock as you take her hand. “I should be asking to dance with you!” Her smile gets brighter as you walk to the dance circle with her. “And what's your name dear?” She smiles up at you as she bows. “Lani, My Lord.” You bow right back as you take her hands, spinning around with the others in the circle, a smile never leaving your face.

Getting you back to the castle clearly isn't going to happen any time soon. Eddie sits down in a small chair as he watches you. The pure happiness on your face warms his heart as he leans back, allowing himself to relax as the sound of music and the smell of cider fills his presence. You twirl around the small girl you're dancing with as you pass her to the next person, linking hands with an old man. Everyone around you has a mix of happiness and shock on their face as you let yourself free in their presence.

Eddie removes his helmet, placing it on the ground next to him, letting his long brown curls fall against his shoulders. A deep breath is all he needs as he finally lets himself be comfortable, allowing his thoughts of you to continue.

The pure, exciting happiness coming from the people around you, the way you seem more at home with them than when you're in the castle, the way you truly seem to care about all of them. Maybe you aren't just some pompous rich prince, maybe there's more to you than he thought.

His thoughts keep him company as the night comes to a close. Eddie watched as you stumbled into an alleyway, laughing to yourself as you caught your breath, the only light coming from the moonlight above the two of you.

“This has been the most fun night of my life.” You smile. Eddie smiles back as he hands you your shoes and jacket. “I'm glad you had fun, but I think we should get back.” You groan as you put your clothes back on, struggling a bit with your shoes. The silence that fills the air isn't as difficult to stand for Eddie as before as he takes you by the hand and helps you off the wall. “I don't want to leave.” Eddie smirks a bit as he hands you the sash. “I know, but your father will probably have my head if you're not back soon.” Eddie looks out to the street as he watches the lanterns that line the street slowly turn off. Your presence next to him makes him jump as he looks down at you.

“Eddie.” He raises an eyebrow as he tries to figure out what you're going to do. “Yes?” He watches you let out a shaky breath. “You haven't said my name all night. Even when I told you to.” Eddie can't hide his blush behind his helmet any more. “Sorry.”

“Say it.”

Eddie tries to keep himself from pushing you against the wall and kissing you as the grip he has on his helmet tightens. “(Y/n).” You smile as Eddie's mind races between kissing you right now or walking you back to your room.

Luckily for him, you choose first.

It takes a moment for him to recognize the feeling of your hand on his cheek as you pull his face to yours. Eddie swears he sees stars as his lips finally meet yours. Something in his brain flips as he drops the helmet on the floor, his hands immediately grip your hips as he holds you as close to his body as he can. You tilt your head to the side, letting him deepen the kiss as the grip he has on you gets bruisingly tight. He doesn't want this to end, he wants to stay in this very moment for the rest of his life.

He only pulls away for air, taking in the sight of your glossy lips and half-lidded eyes. He feels like his body has gone into some sort of shock as he stares at you, begging any god that can hear him to never let his end. “Should we leave?” You whisper, eyes still locked onto his lips. He doesn't want to say yes, he wants to be selfish, to keep you with him forever.

His body betrays him as he slowly lets you go. “Yeah, let's get back.”

The walk back is silent, Eddie's mind is racing so fast that he doesn't even realize when you get to the door of your bedroom. Before he can speak, you're putting your lips back on his, a quick but deep peck as you smile up at him. “Goodnight Eddie.” Eddie smiles back as he lets you go.

“Goodnight (Y/n).”

#x male reader #male reader #eddie munson x male reader #stranger things royal au #stranger things x male reader #bottom reader #bottom male reader

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the-fiction-witch · 9 months

Text

You're Cute

Media Lewis

Character Adam Douglas

Couple Adam X Reader

Rating SWEET AF

I sat bored out of my mind, we were off on a trip for class we'd be gone for three days but the journey was going to take up almost all of day one, and the journey home would take up day two. We were travelling to Edinburgh for a class thing so we had been forced from our dorm rooms at 4 am! and we were going to arrive at our hotel at 8 pm! and it's now 11 am so we had a long way to go, soon we would stop for lunch with would be a godsend, I'm getting some McDonalds! But for now, we're all just stuck on this damn coach together. I sat beside Adam of course in his jeans, red plaid button down and his hoodie around him, his head on the window, he had been reading earlier but I think he gave up and was trying for a nap. Which is fair Adam is not a morning person, I mean we're uni kids neither of us is gonna like mornings all that much but I do enough redbull fueled all-nighters that I just keep myself up and makes 4 am feel like my midday, which did mean I'm pretty sure once I eat I will crash and die until we get there. Currently, I was playing on my switch doing some chores in animal crossing for my neighbours, Bringing this was likely my best decision.

"Balloon," Adam spoke up,

"Ohh I got it," I smiled as I moved my little person over to get the balloon,

"What did you get?"

"red balloon so probably a DIY." I said, "Yep, DIY."

"For?"

"Wreath,"

"Ohh what kind?"

"Snow, You want it?"

"You don't?"

"No I have the mushroom Wreath, it fits my cottage core island aesthetic,"

"Not everything on the island needs to fit the aesthetic."

"Yes, that's why you live on a mountain, you and your chaos house, and the junkyard."

"It's my garden I can do what I want."

"You want it then?"

"Yeah drop it at my house I'll pick it up next time I play it,"

"Will do," I smiled,

"I'm tied,"

"I know you are Adam, have a lil nap,"

"I can't."

"Why not?"

"Too much noise, too much bounce, too much... everything."

"Awww you poor thing,"

He then did a huge yawn and stretch,

"Oohh Big yawn," I giggled

"Very big yawn," He sighed,

"Such a big yawn for a small one," I playfully smiled,

"You're cute." I smiled putting my switch away and grabbing a blanket that I put over his legs and moved him slightly so he could lay on my shoulder "There? That better sleepy boy?"

"mhm," he grumped rubbing his nose on my shoulder,

"Aww okay, you cuddle up I'll wake you when it's time for food,"

"It's still too loud to sleep,"

I smiled and grabbed my headphones letting him slip them on over his ears and I put on some nice gentle ambient music for him "There you go," I smiled kissing his little blonde head,

"ahh none with rain, It's gonna make me need the bathroom and I am NOT! using that coach toilet again. I made that mistake once."

"Alright, how about... fire crack, wind, and piano?"

"That's good" He nodded,

So I put the music on for him and almost immediately his gentle little breaths and snores in the back of his throat as he fell asleep. I smiled and cuddled him close to me letting him get some rest while I plaid animal crossing.

#tbs smut #tbs imagine #tbs imagines #thomas sangster imagine #thomas sangster #thomas brodie sangster imagine #thomas brodie sangster #tbs #thomas brodie sangster smut #thomasbrodiesangster #adamdouglas #lewis

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sluttywife69 · 2 years

Text

Here are some old fantasies I had forgotten about. You're welcome

Being forced to do exercises in front of the 'cake. Anything she orders me to. Not allowed to say no or stop until told to. Bonus points if I have a full bladder, have clamps on, plugged, etc. Maybe she invites friends over to laugh with her. Then we end the day with the endless treadmill.... Yes, I'm very much obsessed with that idea..... Omg what if she left me restrained to it all night? 😱

I have another fantasy where I'm tied up to my wand, either on my chair, laying down on the floor, in the bathroom somehow, maybe the closet. And then have him and another lady have all the fun and fuck and cum.... Then cuddle... But fall asleep before getting around to untying me. So I'm just kinda fucked.... With my wand going... All night.... 💁‍♀️Maybe blindfolded so I don't realize that's what's happening.

I also have a similar one where it's the same thing but 100% on purpose. I get teased all day and night. Being forced to wait on them, listen, watch, but not allowed to touch myself. Then at night I get tied up on the floor, wand fixed right to my clit. Turned on high. Blindfolded, maybe tape gagged. Then they crawl into bed, turn off the light, say goodnight, then cuddle together, maybe fuck first, then go to sleep to the sounds of my wand buzzing away on my clit

I want a 'cake who will make me sleep with my face between her legs every night 💁‍♀️

Being drugged. Then while I'm semi conscious, being tied up, the full works, clamps, electric shock, etc. Then having a fucking machine inside me as well as a wand on my clit. Everything is set to high, as well as the electric shock pads; there's something heavy put on the switch so it is constantly going off. Then I slip into the unconscious.... Only to wake up to feeling it all.... Full force... And only only that but feeling the effects of it going for hours while I was knocked out. Bonus points if it's recorded and there are tons of people watching and taking their own videos and pictures. Oh, and my mouth was used while I was passed out and again one I woke up 💁‍♀️

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slashersgirlypop · 2 years

Text

Grilled Cheese Chapter 10

TW: SCAR MENTION

(Sept 2nd, 1978)

As night approached, I finishing up fixing Michael’s suit. He was still gone, which was surprising. I mean, he was somewhere, doing God knows what in my brother’s shirt and boxers.

I had the news on and was watching the channel, to see if there have been any reports or updates on the situation. I jumped, hearing the door open and Michael walk in.

“H-Hi! Welcome back from whatever you were doing!” I called out, briefly glancing at him. His, uh, friend was no longer eager to greet the day, but it was still prominent despite not being so “happy”.

“Are you hungry?” I asked, working on the last stitch. It took me longer than I thought because not only were there a lot of holes, but I always accidentally cut the thread too short, not to mention how many times I accidentally prodded myself with the thing.

I felt him behind me, so I looked up at him with a smile.

“Hey, almost done with your suit, just need to finish this last hole,” I said, before glancing down at his chest, where I could see the bumps on his chest from where the wounds were. I wonder if he had those bullets out or at least attempted to heal his wounds. Would he give me some sort of freedom back rather than being forced to stay in the same room as him until its “time to sleep” if I helped him?

“Alright, done. Here you go!” Holding it up to him, I watched as he took it, assessing the stitches before walking to the bathroom, closing the door.

“You’re welcome, I guess,” I muttered to myself. I got up to feed Miss Petunia, who was crying in the kitchen to be fed.

By the time I was done, I saw Michael, in his suit, standing in in front of the television. Even though I couldn’t see his eyes, I knew he was watching it with his odd intensity. I walked up next to him, curious at what caught his attention.

It was still on the news channel. They were interviewing some guy named Dr. Samuel Loomis.

“…Michael Myers is a menace and should be avoided at all costs. He’s been in my care for fifteen years, and I can tell you there is nothing but the devil in that monster’s eyes. Nothing I could do could cure the evil in him. In all my years of being a psychologist, I have never known cruelty and devastation like him. If you see him, run and hide, before he hurts you. Once you are in a safe place, please, call the police. There is no reasoning with this demon, only death.” He spoke to the press. I frowned.

I mean, yes, Michael did hurt me and did show his cruelty when I first met him, but he also showed some form of concern, especially after he punished me. Not that I’m defending him or anything.

I glanced down, seeing Michael’s knuckles tighten to a bony white.

“Do you know him?’ I asked, my eyes drifting to his face. He said nothing, the only sound coming from him being his heavy breathing. He turned abruptly, stomping over to the couch and grabbing the remote, forcing it into my hands. He then pointed to the TV.

“Um, do you want me to change the channel?” When he just pointed again, I hurriedly switched the channel, turning it to some show. It was some show with Dick van Dyke.

“So, um, are you hungry?” I asked, and he exhaled, walking over to the kitchen table, sitting down.

I decided to make him a nice grilled cheese sandwich. He seemed like he needed some sort of comfort. Cutting it in half, I put it on his plate, along with some fruit from the fridge.

I placed it in front of him. Before I could walk away to make my dinner, he grabbed my wrist, stopping me.

“Is everything alright, uh, Michael?” I tried, hoping he wouldn’t get mad at me using his name. He said nothing, before slowly letting my wrist go, shaking his head. Then, he pointed to the laundry room. I sighed.

“I mean, can I make myself dinner first?” He shook his head, only pointing again at the laundry room. I put my hands up in defeat, walking in the room and closing the door.

I heard him take the mask off and place it on the table, picking up his sandwich.

I blew a raspberry. I can’t help but wonder why he refuse to share his face. And why the hell did that Dr. Loomis guy seemed to strike a chord within him?

After he ate, he let me out of the laundry room. I was surprised when he offered me the other half of his sandwich. This really contradicts what that Loomis guy said.

“Thank you…”

After I ate, we sat down in front of the couch, watching the couple on the screen. Miss Petunia jumped onto the sofa at one point. She climbed on my lap, purring as she gently butted her head against my chin. I gave her a kiss on her soft little forehead, stroking her fur affectionately. She crawled across my lap into Michael’s, chirping at the man. She then rubbed her head along his chest, to which I noticed he tensed slightly.

‘I bet his wounds are still hurting him…’

“I think I have a first aid kit in my room with, uh, gauze and medical shit in it. I can try to help you with your bullet holes, if you want?” He turned his head to me, slowly nodding once after a heavy pause.

After grabbing the kit and heading back downstairs, I smiled at him kindly.

“Alright, take off the top part of your suit.” He didn’t move. I sighed, raising my eyebrow.

“Mikey, I can’t help you if I can’t see the wounds,” I said. After another hesitation, he unzipped the front of his suit, opening it up and leaving his lower half in the uniform.

Okay, did they have a frickin’ gym at the penitentiary or something? His chest was muscular, riddled with muscles. He also had some scars on his chest. Aside from the bullet holes that needed serious attention, I noticed he had what looked like poorly healed wounds, from something that repeatedly hit him.

His bullet wounds looked bad, though. Very, very bad. One of them looked like it was in the onset of becoming severely infected.

I pulled up a chair from the kitchen and put it in the family room so he could be able to still watch the television while I worked on him. He sat down on the chair, and I got to work. I suddenly was very grateful for the first-aid class my brother forced me to take. I sterilized my tweezers, wishing I did have some better tools for this.

“Alright, Mikey. I’m not gonna lie, this will hurt. But I promise, it will help and is much better than getting an infection, okay?” He merely nodded. I sighed, glancing at his chest. I gently and slowly pushed the tweezers into one of the holes, trying to fight off the inner nausea I felt inside me. He tensed as I managed to grab onto the bullet.

“I’m sorry, I can’t imagine how bad this hurts, I’m so sorry,” I told him, wincing in sympathy as I pulled out the bullet. As it finally pulled out with a gross squelch, he seemed to relax, letting out a breath. I quickly stuffed some gauze over the wound, stopping the blood flow.

After that, I worked in silence, concentrating on pulling out the bullets and stopping him from dying from blood loss.

“Um, I realized, I know your name, but you don’t know mine. I’m (Y/N), and that,” I motioned to the kitty on the couch, “is Miss Petunia. Normally she doesn’t really warm up to strangers very fast, especially if they are staying so long. I mean, it took her five days to get used to me and a week for Mr. Steinberg.”

He said nothing, as he normally did. I sighed, refocusing my attention on his last wound. I began to work on cleaning one of the more badly infected wounds. Ten minutes later, I finished and I sat back on my heels, tilting my head at the masked shirtless man curiously.

“How come you’re so reluctant to show your face?” Nothing.

“Do you have like a nasty scar or something? Horribly disfigured?” Still nothing.

“I noticed the other day that your eye looked hurt. Did you cut your eye? I can h-” as I reached up to grab his mask, he caught my wrist. I gasped in shock as he then grabbed my throat, tightening his hold.

“Hck! I-I’m sorry! I’m so so-sorry!” I choked out, grabbing his wrist and scratching for him to let go. He said nothing, pulling my face in closer to him. He was so close, the nose of his mask practically brushed against mine. All I could see were his eyes glaring at me through his mask’s holes. Then, he let me go, letting me fall onto the carpet, gently holding my throat.

As I knelt on the carpet, slowly regaining my breath, I couldn’t help but wonder why he refused to show his face.

~🔪~🔪~🔪~🔪~🔪~🔪~🔪~🔪~🔪~🔪~🔪~🔪~🔪~🔪~🔪~

Hi Hi!!! Thank you all for your patience once again! I hope you had a wonderful new year day! I watched the second avatar today and lemme just say I am a whore for the navi. WHY ARE THE MEN AND WOMEN SO FINE??? BTW we hate hate HATE Dr. Loomis in this home. I fuckin despise him and he's a disgrace to psychology. Bye, my fellow slasher sluts~~~

#halloween 1978 #michael myers #slasher #yandere michael myers #yandere michael myers x reader #hostage reader

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awkwardlyfangirly · 2 years

Note

ok hello i'm the anon that said you were my fav writer (which still rings true ily💖) and i had this idea and i know you'd be the absolute best at making it into a story (if you want) so leo's got this s/o and they get killed during the events of the movie. well after the kraang are banished and all that april gets him a build a bear kinda teddy bear that was his s/o's fav color with a heartbeat and a voice box of their laughter (hopefully you know what i mean here lol) so leo like cuddles this thing to death every night and brings it with him everywhere he can and he looses it one day or the heartbeat sound stops working and he gets rlly mega freaked out and that's when his bros realize he has a bad attachment to the bear so they try and help him move on as best as he can? does this make sense? i thought of writing it myself but i couldn't hold a candle to your talent so i was hoping you might maybe wanna write about it?? if not it's cool and i appreciate you very much

-💖 anon

ehehe i Love the level of detail u put into this >:))

also you're too kind :')) I've never posted fanfiction before and y'all have been so sweet and encouraging ahhh

okay I've never been to build-a-bear so i just used teddy bear town so i could kinda improvise how it worked! but my google history is still like "build a bear heartbeat" "can you wash build a bear in washing machine" "how does build a bear voice box work" lolol

anywizzles! hope u enjoy! I'm always open to any feedback u guys have, positive or negative - I'd love to be a better writer haha and i appreciate hearing what works and what could be better

/////////////

rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles fanfiction ~ Leo x female self-insert ~ tw/cw: character died in the past; characters dealing with grief and mourning; a graphic nightmare scene <3

/////////////

He still sees her in his dreams.

He doesn’t believe in ghosts, but her memory is sure haunting him, night after night after night.

Every time he dozes off, she’s there.

Sometimes the dreams are sweet: her hands on his face, her lips on his mouth, her voice and her smile and her warmth.

And then she fades away.

He’ll wake up reaching out for her. His hands will stretch after her and he’ll gasp her name and she’ll smile softly and then as more and more consciousness wafts back to him he’s forced to understand, to remember. She’s gone. She’s dead.

And sometimes the dreams are nightmares. Sometimes he’s forced to watch her die, again and again and again and again. He’ll get so excruciatingly close to saving her. But she’ll rot away in his hands. Sometimes he is her, feeling the life drain out of himself as he falls to his knees above himself and gathers himself up in his arms.

Sometimes he kills her. Sometimes he is the Krang, hardening three of his tentacles into sharp points and piercing her body right where it is the most vulnerable. Sometimes he feels her blood coating his hands, and he stumbles back with a gasp, and rushes to the bathroom to wash and wash and wash but his hands are red, red, warm and wet and red, and the more he washes the more the blood spreads, until he is covered and dripping in the bathroom, and then when he turns he sees his brothers, open-mouthed and angry, and then when he turns around again, frantically, he sees his reflection in the mirror and it is her, blood-bathed and sobbing.

He hasn’t been sleeping much at all.

It’s been three months since that day, and he’s been spending most of his nights awake. Watching Donnie work, or trying to read, or playing video games, or anything else he can think of to keep his mind switched on. But obviously, he can only go for so long before his body begins to shut itself down. And then he has to sleep. Lost, restless, anxious sleep. He wakes up sweating, drawing in the sheets, shaking and afraid. He naps in the daytime, exclusively; when he wakes back up, there will be brothers ready to distract his minds and his nervous hands. The nighttime is too dark and lonesome and unforgiving to wake up from a nightmare in.

But he won’t tell anyone about any of this. He won’t show it.

All the others make no secret of their grief -- even Mayhem curls up in her old hoodies and whimpers himself to sleep. But Leo? Leo is so carefree and so cheerful and so accepting of it all that April can tell he’s hurting worse than anyone.

April sighs to herself.

She’s standing in the production line at Teddy Bear Town, armed with Raph’s free-bear frequent buyer card, holding a bear husk in her favorite color, waiting to upload a message into a voice box to place inside of the bear. She has the recording up on her phone already, a voicemail from her to Leo that she had asked Donnie to send to her.

Finally, the recording station opens up, and she places her phone next to the microphone. She takes a breath and hits “play.”

“Hiii, my love,” her voice croons. “I miss you. It’s been, like, what, two days? I miss you. I’m on my way back right now but I literally can’t wait until I get home to talk to you again. Call me back. I love you. My lovely, lovely Leo. I love you. Bye. Kisses. Mwah.”

It hurts to hear her, her voice warm and happy and innocent and so, so alive. April bites at her lip and ends the recording.

She puts the voice box in the bear, and a heartbeat heart in the bear; and then when she takes it home she douses it with her favorite scent.

The bear goes in a nice box and she takes it to the lair.

“Heyy,” she says, poking her head into the living room. “Is Leo here? I have --” she drops her voice “-- the bear.”

“I think he’s asleep in the room,” Mikey says. He’s eyeing the box, obviously desperate to see the bear.

“Do you think he’ll mind if I go give it to him now?” April gives in and reaches into the box, pulling out the bear and handing it to Mikey so he can examine it. “I can put it next to him or something.”

“I think he’d like that,” Raph says, softly.

“Okay.” She reaches out her hands and Mikey reluctantly hands the bear back.

“It smells just like her,” he says, his eyes getting watery.

April hugs him and then carries the bear over to the bedroom. She tries the door and it opens easily; she steps inside and glances at Leo in bed.

He’s twitching, twitching, whimpering gently and turning like a rotisserie chicken. The sheets are winding around him, tight, tight. His forehead is pale and sweaty.

“No,” she can hear him mumbling. “No. No. Please.”

She immediately shakes one of his shoulders, and he jolts awake, lunging at her but too constricted by his sheets to move much at all.

“Whoa! Leo!”

He struggles against the sheets for a moment before recognition comes back into his eyes; he freezes, wide-eyed, muscles still tense and quivering.

He doesn’t speak.

“Hey. Hey. You alright?”

He doesn’t speak.

April sighs gently and untangles the sheets from around him.

“I know,” she whispers. “I know, I know. We’ve been through a lot. You… you need anything?”

He shakes his head and forces a smile on his face. There’s not usually anyone with him when he wakes up. He just powers through the aftereffects of the nightmares on his own. He’s never had to deal with the embarrassment of attention.

“Oh, Leo,” April sighs softly, and pats his shoulder. “You know you can always talk to me if you need to, right?”

He nods.

“I got you something,” she says, reaching into the box and then changing her mind and just putting it down on the bedspread. “You can look at it after I leave, okay? I love you. Take care of yourself. Remember that you can talk to any of us, anytime. I love you.”

And then she’s gone, and he’s sitting up in bed, his heart still pounding, his palms sweaty, his ears ringing. She shouldn’t have seen that. No one should ever see that.

He sighs and rubs at his temples and stares at the box. Finally he reaches forward to grab it, and pulls it back towards himself, and opens it and reaches inside. His fingers make contact with something soft and fuzzy, and his blood stills when he recognizes the scent.

It’s her. It’s her smell.

He pulls out the bear, his heart pounding again, and examines it in the low light of his room. It’s her favorite color. He presses his face against its belly -- it smells like her. It’s soft, and cuddly, and it smells like her.

Each inhale feels like a stab wound.

He squeezes the left paw and she starts to talk.

He sits, silent, wide-eyed, barely breathing, staring at the bear as her voice talks at him. Her voice.

He lays down again, clutching the bear to his chest with a death grip that would probably strangle it if it could actually breathe, pressing the paw again and again and again. Listening to her talk. She’s talking to him.

“My lovely, lovely Leo,” she says. “I love you.”

Leo breathes in. Long, and shuddery, and then before he knows it he’s on his side and in the fetal position: choking and coughing on hoarse sobs that rake at his chest with each breath.

He tries the other paw and it’s a heartbeat. Soft, and gentle, and it doesn’t stop as long as he’s holding on tight. He shoves his face into the bear’s stomach again, and the heartbeat thumps reassuringly against his forehead.

He curls around the bear like it’s the only thing holding him afloat.

He wakes up eventually, after a dark and dreamless sleep, and the first thing he notices is that the pillow and the bear are both damp. The space under his eyes is damp, too.

He presses the left paw again.

She speaks.

“I love you,” he tells her. The last time he said it, she was bleeding out in his arms. He holds the bear tight to his chest, squeezing it like she’s come back to him.

He leaves his room to get a snack in the kitchen -- hungry, suddenly, and much braver with her scent held close. He’s pressing down on the right paw, feeling the synthetic heart beat against him.

April is still over; she’s sitting in the living room, watching TV with Leo’s brothers. Their eyes follow him. He pretends not to notice.

He feels so tired. He’s holding the bear so tight, and he feels so tired.

He goes into the kitchen and opens the fridge and stares at the shelves for a while, feeling the cool air nipping at his beak and the heartbeat pulse against his plastron.

Finally, he just closes the fridge door and walks back into his room. And he sits on his bed, and presses his face against her scent, and squeezes the left paw, again and again.

“I love you,” she tells him. “Hi, my love. I love you. I miss you. I love you. I love you.”

He falls asleep again.

His brothers and April peek their heads into the room and see him: wrapped around the bear, curled tight against the wall, still and quiet.

“He looks so calm,” April whispers. “He was… kind of freaking out earlier.”

“You think the bear’s helping??”

“I hope so.”

Leo will not let go of the bear.

He takes her around the house, clutched in his arms; he takes her to the grocery store and the pizza parlor; the only time he leaves her is when he’s heading out on patrol. He doesn’t want anything to happen to her. She sits tucked under the covers when he’s away.

He will not let go of the bear.

It’s been seven months since her death when he misplaces the bear. (She’s been tangled up in his sheets and thrown into the washer. But he doesn’t know that. All he knows is that she’s gone.)

He runs into the living room, panting, shaking, grabbing Raph by the shoulders.

“She’s gone!” he screams, pulling Raph’s face close to his own. “Have you seen her?? She’s GONE!”

“What?? Who’s gone??”

And he screams her name and then bounces from foot to foot, waiting for Raph to do anything, to say anything; and finally he just runs off again, back to the bedroom, tearing apart anything and everything he can get his hands on. She’s gone.

“I should have had Donnie put a tracker,” he rambles, running back into the living room and starting to rip off the couch cushions. “She’s gone. She’s gone. Where could she be?? She was in my room!! In my bed! Right under the covers! Someone took her, right?? I don’t know where else she could be. Oh no. I lost her. I lost her. No. No.”

“Leo, calm down --” Raph starts to say, but Leo wheels around and stares at him, pale and wringing his hands together, and so Raph stands up and starts to look with him.

Eventually all four brothers are looking; and finally Mikey screams from across the house and Leo drops everything he’s holding and chases the sound of his voice, frantically, until finally they slam into each other in the doorway of the laundry room and Mikey presses a familiar lump into his arms.

She’s damp, and floppy, and her fur is kind of weird now, and her scent is greatly subdued, but it’s her.

Leo shoves his face into her belly and squeezes her tight in his arms, catching his breath for a moment, gasping in whatever remnants of her scent he can get. And then he presses one of her paws, and then the other; and there’s just a staticky gurgling from one paw and nothing from the other.

“No,” he says, starting to panic again. “No, no, no, no, no, no, no --”

“Leo, what is it? We found it for you --”

“She doesn’t work,” he mumbles. He presses the paws again, frantically, desperately: “She doesn’t work. Where’s her voice?? Where’s her voice?? Where’s her heartbeat??”

“Leo, calm down. It’s okay. We’ll get you a new one, alright?”

“No,” he says again, starting to flap his hands. The bear shakes along with them. “No, no, no, no, no. I can’t just replace her --”

“It’s a bear, Leo. It’s fine --”

“No!”

“Leo! Calm down!” Raph reaches out for him, trying to wrap him in his arms so he’s safe and constricted and starts to settle down; but Leo dodges away and holds his bear tightly, securely, backing into a corner of the room.

“She’s broken,” he mumbles.

Raph and Mikey exchange a Look.

The three non-Leo brothers discuss the matter later that night, once Leo has gone to bed. They discuss the matter of him, and the bear. The decision is unanimous: they have to talk to him about the way he feels about the bear.

They corner him first thing in the morning.

“Hey,” Raph says softly, as soon as Leo stumbles bleary-eyed into the kitchen, dangling the bear by one paw. “How you doing, buddy??”

Leo shrugs and feels around in the cabinet for a box of cereal.

“We have to talk about the bear,” Mikey says.

“Look, we understand that you love it, and the last thing we would want is to take something that you love away from you -- but we’re getting worried about you, Leo. It’s not quite healthy to get so attached to a toy like that.” Donnie rubs at his arms.

Leo squeezes the bear against his chest.

“You guys don’t know what you’re talking about,” he snaps. “I can love my bear if I want to. It had her voice in it, remember? And her smell? It comforted me.”

“But, Leo --” Mikey starts.

“No! No ‘but leos’!”

“But, Leo -- comfort and dependence are two very different things. You’ve gotten dependent on that bear. And we know you miss her, and the bear reminds you of her, but --”

“Stop talking about her!” Leo shouts. “Her, her, her -- you didn’t know her! You didn’t love her! Not like I did!! Stop talking about her like you understand what it meant to lose her!” And he squeezes his fists together, relaxes, squeezes again. “You don’t understand what it meant to lose her.”

“Leo, we do understand,” Raph says, gently. “We loved her, too. Not quite the way you did -- but we did love her. We lost her, too.”

“But we’ve been able to move on,” Mikey adds. “And of course we haven’t forgotten her, and we haven’t stopped missing her -- but we understand that she’s gone. And that she’s not coming back to us. You have to deal with that, Leo, with the root of it all -- you have to understand, and you have to move on.”

“Move on?? You’re telling me to just move on from losing her?! It’s only been seven months! And besides -- besides -- I’ll never be able to get over her. She’s the sort of girl you don’t just ‘get over.’”

“Leo, Leo, I know. We all know. It’s not easy for any of us! We miss her, too; we’re grieving, too; but --”

“But you didn’t kill her,” Leo says, softly, and his grip on the bear loosens slightly.

“What?”

“You didn’t kill her,” Leo says. “Your hands aren’t stained red every time you look at them --” and he leans heavily against the kitchen counter.

“Leo, you didn’t kill her.”

“But I did. It’s my fault the Krang are here in the first place. If I hadn’t… if I hadn’t…”

He presses the back of a hand to his eyes and breathes, breathes, steadies himself.

“If I hadn’t made a mess of things, none of this would ever have happened. It’s my fault the Krang were here.” His eyes are getting hot, wet, messy. He keeps wiping at them, over and over. “It’s my fault. You’ve never screamed it at me, amazingly. I don’t deserve you guys. But you know it, I know you do; it’s my fault that the Krang got here in the first place. If I hadn’t goofed up so bad, then they would still be in that prison dimension -- and she’d still be -- she’d still be --”

He doubles over at the kitchen counter and slides down to the ground, hunched over, grinding the palms of his hands into his eye sockets and screaming silently.

“Leo.” Raph sits down next to him, and sweeps his little brother into a tight hug. His own eyes are misting over. “Leo, none of us blame you…”

“But you should,” he blubbers. “You should. It’s my fault. Don’t say it’s not, just to try to make me feel better. I know it’s true --”

Mikey and Donnie kneel down next to them, wrapping their own arms around Leo, and Raph encloses all three of them in his arms.

They sit on the kitchen floor, hollow and grieving and sobbing. And Leo has the bear squeezed against his chest still, tight, tight, because he can’t let her go. he can’t let her go. he can’t let her go. he can’t let her go. he can’t let her go.

But two mornings after that, there’s a scrapbook on his bedspread. It’s filled, cover to cover, with her. Her favorite things, her favorite color, pictures of her, and the whole thing is drenched in her scent.

There’s a note attached to it, from all three of his brothers, and April.

You don’t have to move on just yet, the note says. We understand that. But try to focus on her, okay? Try to focus on her memory. She’d rather have you remember her than have you freak out over losing a bear that sounds like her. You know she would.

Leo agrees. He thumbs through the pages, and she smiles up at him from each picture. He can still hear her voice in his mind, and feel her hands on his cheeks.

He imagines that she’s there with him, in the room, right now. What would he say to her?

I’m sorry I killed you, he would say. It was incredibly stupid of me and I am so, so, so sorry.

I forgive you for killing me, she would say. And then she would sit down next to him on the bed and hug him, long and hard and tight. It’s been rough? Right? I’m so, so sorry for that. I never want to hurt you, Leo --

Don’t apologize for that, he’d say. It’s not your fault. You didn’t do anything wrong.

But look at you. Look at how sad you are. I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry.

No. Don’t be sorry. I’m happy to be sad over you. It means that I still love you. I still love you, so much; but the love is just spilling over from inside of me. I have nowhere to put my love for you. I’m happy to be sad over you.

You’re funny, she’d smile, and then she’d hug him tight again and kiss his forehead.

He shuts his eyes. He misses her, so, so much.

But okay. Okay. For his brothers’ sake, he’ll try. Maybe that’s where he can put his love for her -- he can put it on his brothers. He can try his best to make them happy.

He sighs through his nose and tucks the bear back under his covers. Okay. She’ll stay there today.

He’ll see her tonight. He’ll hold her close tonight.

And he’ll keep her alive, keep her alive and well, with the love that’s inside his heart.

#rottmnt #rottmnt fanfiction #rottmnt leonardo #rottmnt leo #rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles fanfiction #my writing

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honeyedafterglow · 1 year

Text

two days after i killed myself

the day after i killed myself, i had no regrets. i was finally free—no more of that crushing weight, no more dark water filling my lungs until i was sure i’d suffocate. i didn’t have to think to myself, one more day. just try to survive one more day because i had no days left. it was over. i didn’t have to hurt anyone ever again. my family wouldn’t have to worry anymore now that i was gone. selfishly, i was relieved that i would never have to face them after what i’d done. i didn’t want to see how it hurt them. i didn’t want to know.

but i saw. from my place in death, i saw what i had done, the damage i caused. it was irreparable. my mother barely got out of bed. our dog barked and whined, begging for her attention, her love, asking where i had gone, but when she never responded, the dog simply climbed into bed and lay in silence with her. my cat, once confined to my room, now roamed the house as he howled, calling out to me, a living, breathing reminder of the daughter my mother lost and the love i had for cats.

my father, on the other hand, drowned himself in his work. he logged up to a hundred hours a week, only leaving himself enough time to miss me when he returned home at night to see my empty bedroom, the lights all switched off, the door cracked slightly open the way it always was when i lived there, eternally unchanging. he had begun to adjust the thermostat from his phone instead of passing by my doorway to do it manually. he didn’t want to think about me and what i left behind more often than necessary.

my little sister, who was only sixteen, still traveled between our parents’ houses. when she was at our dad’s, she kept the door to my bedroom from our shared bathroom tightly closed. she locked it when she showered, and sometimes expected me to burst into her room and scold her for leaving it locked after she was done. but i never did, and she eventually stopped unlocking it.

at our mom’s, she did her best to avoid walking down the hallway that led to my room and the bathroom unless she needed to pee. my door was always closed now, and my cat never seemed to figure out why. he would sit in front of it and cry, wailing for me to let him in, unaware that i was not home and i never would be again. my sister cared for him on my behalf, holding him when he cried in the middle of the night, feeding him when he purred and begged for food. he was how she honored me in my death. he was how she showed that she had loved me.

my older sister didn’t live at home anymore, but she felt the loss, too. when she lay in her bed, she sometimes caught herself staring at the candle i made for her in my pharmacy class and began to cry. she couldn’t bring herself to light it, unwilling to let a flame melt away something i had given her. when she felt strong enough, she often visited my social media pages and scrolled through my posts, remembering how i’d ask her opinion of my photos and whether i should post them. she always encouraged me to post them, no matter how other people may react. it was my page and she wanted me to share whatever i felt like sharing. now that i was gone, she was thankful for that.

my boyfriend was surprised by the news. at first, he thought it was a joke, something i’d orchestrated to get a reaction out of him—a sick prank. but he eventually realized that it wasn’t a cruel joke i’d been playing. he still went over to my house, sat on my bed, looked at the rumpled sheets and flattened pillows where we used to sleep together. he thought about how i would always sling one arm and one leg over him when we slept, like a koala hugging a tree, and i could see the ache i had put inside of him.

sometimes he would log onto his computer to play his favorite video game and see the minecraft logo, forced to remember how i made him play it with me the night after our first date when i panicked and made him go home. he remembered the feeling of his arm around my waist in the movie theater as we watched spider-man, of my hand in his while we walked through cedar point, of my skin against his the first time we had sex. he remembered the sound of my heartbeat whenever he rested his head on my chest, the smell of my perfume that he liked to spray on himself, the sound of my laugh when he said something particularly stupid. he couldn’t stop remembering. sometimes i wished he could forget, if only it would stop him from hurting so badly.

the day after i killed myself, i had no regrets—i was proud of myself for my success, relieved i had finally freed everyone from my web of misery and pain—but the day after that, i did.

two days after i killed myself, i regretted it. i wanted to go back. i wanted to push my hands through the earth i’d been buried in, my fingernails caked with dirt, and crawl home to the family i’d left behind. i wanted to wrap them in my arms, tell them i was sorry, promise them i would never hurt them that way again—but i couldn’t. i was dead.

two days after i killed myself, i regretted it more than i ever thought i was capable of.

#poetry #writing #sad thoughts #poem #poems and quotes #original poems #overcomingdepression #love poem

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fartquen12 · 2 years

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Hey quen😊😊💕💕

can uf do zhongchi fic where childe is preg🥺🥺 and they raise thw stinky bwabby🥺🥺💕💕 thxx!.!

Omg yes bestie. Also since I am literally being such a bwimbwo whwore and want to stwab mwuself bc of a man (thats not very bwimbwo whore of me) This is a great idea.

Also next time pls put poop in the request and Also I only do y/n related stories so ya shes going to be in here.

UNFAIR RANK DIAPY WIPEY

TRIGGER WARNINGS: Fart, Poop, Birth, Sea section, Unatural birth, dookie, Fat babies, dirhea, Nsfw??, Will defenitly offend you if your a mini kyle.

It was 10:30 pm and I (y/n) had woken up to this shitty sound. It was like really loud. When I realised thats childe creaming- SCREAMING. I got up quickly and ran to the bathroom he was in! "Childe what- whats wrong a-are you okay!?" I exclaimed "AY GET THO FUCK OUT IM TAKIN A SHITAAA!!!" childe screamed back at me "FUCK OKAY ASSHOLE!" I replied slamming the door after. I was so pissed when I felt a rock hard di- hand touch my arm "whats wrong baby?" I heard a deep im taking a shit pooping sounding voice say. "oh 'ts nothin' just childe being a bitc-" I stopped when I heard "THERES A HEAD THERES A HEAD OUT MY ASSSSSS!" come from the bathroom. Me and zhongli ran into the bathroom and childe was standing with his asshole in the mirror and a small head covered in shit coming out his ass. Without saying anything zhongli ran to the car and forced childe and me into it. I had to sit in the back and childe was in the passanger seat zhongli driving. "THE BABYS COMING!" childe screached "YES BITCH I KNOW!!!" zhongli said angrily. I felt left out so I put on my headphones and turned on "taco fart song sped up 10 hours" On my switch lite. 5 minutes later we were at the hospital and i took off my headphones and me and zhongli and childe ran inside. Once we were inside zhongli told me to stay while childe and him went to the room. I felt left out again. So I decided to get a little risky with the patients in the large room I was in. I saw a strange man with blue hair and a huge shitty looking hat. I walked up to him and sat down next to him. "where ya from cutie." I said and I winked at him. "your moms ass." the cruel man said. "excuse me." I said. "haha just kiddin' im just pulling your leg IM from russia!" He said. I thought to myself man this guys cringe. I decided he was short and shitty for me. I looked over and saw the buffest hottest dude I have ever seen. I ran over to him and sat on his lap. "Damn baby lets go somewhere else." He said. Me and this man went to an empty surgery room. We started kissing. Shit. I farted. He looked at me. Laughed. And then we started kissing again. Then I heard the door open and while kissing this stranger I glanced over and saw a hobo looking man. "Hey butthole guye, Ive got the reports to your- OUHHHH PY AHA ADADADAY OH YA DADAY ISJDIUHSD ISUHIOOOHHOogOHOHOHUHOHUHOAOAAAHA!!!!" the man screamed- moaned? he ran away and the man I was kissing said "I need to go now, But call me my names kaeya, but you can call me- big daddy." The man left. I decided to go check on stupid ass childe. I looked through the door window since i wasnt allowed in. I saw childe holding a stinky ugly looking baby that looked like a noodle. childe told me to come in and say hi to our new baby. But i didnt want to. I was so disturbed at this rat ass looking childe I didnt know what to think, what to do, what to know. I stood there staring into its terrifying eyes for a while. Everything was gone except this strange childe. He seemed like a demon. "Hes...- terrifying.." I said. I placed a hand over my mouth as I slowly cried. "ACTUALLY ITS A GIRL." The nurse said. I screamed. I opened the door quickly ran through the hospital lobby and out the doors got in our car and left them there. I drove 5 states away.

10 years later...

I woke up to my alarm. I woke up my husband kaeya aswell. I walked downstairs and got started on breakfast. Kaeya gave me a kiss on the cheek and grabbed the keys to check our mailbox. I finished setting our food out at the table. Kaeya smiled when he saw the food. "Looks great thank you!" he said "Of course big daddy." I said. We ate breakfast silently and awkwardly. I went over to the mail he put on the counter and I saw a letter with my name. Y/n shitman. I opened it curiosly. It read, Dear Y/n Shitman, Due to the order of law you are five years passed on your payment, Your licesnse has been taken aswell as your toilet privlages and free yearly trip to england, Please come in contact with us soon. sincerly child department.

I was confused to what that was "whats that?" kaeya said "hmmm" I said in response. I saw another piece of paper in the envolope that read

Year one- $0.00

year two- $0.00

year three- $0.00

year four-$0.00

and it went all the way up to

year ten $0.00

I didnt understand until i saw in small print.

Hey y/n please pay for your goddamn poop riden child. We want 500 a month asshole. Child support please. sincerly childe and zhongli Shitman.

You paused. You dropped the letter to the floor and started tearing up. How could this trauma dump come back. You thought you would never have to hear from anything that had to do with that shit child again. when the paper fell it revealed the back of the paper which read.

You have 1 month to pay us 10k (btw we named her olivia and now we have another kid named topher)

"What- What the fuck is that!?" Kaeya said angrily.

"I-"

Part two???

#kaeya x y/n #genshin angst #genshin childe #childe x reader #fartquen12 #zhongli

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doombugn · 1 year

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I had a dream a couple of days ago, it started with me sitting down looking at some houses with a realtor and as we looked through some pictures she told me I could see the next few pictures of the kitchen. I forced myself into the phone (making me go through it) as I’m now standing in the kitchen a little midget comes up to me telling me I wasn’t allowed there..I asked her why I wasn’t as I opened her cabinets..I saw some wine glasses and some snacks. She seemed flustered as I looked down at her. I told her “why don’t you go freshen up, lay on the bed so I could eat you out.. and once I’m done with that we could have some wine and snacks”. She blushed and told me okay. After a little while I notice she’s taking a while to call me into the bedroom, I walked into the room just to see her laying there playing with herself. I told her what happened did you go freshen up? She tell me “well I got horny on the way over here and just started playing with myself”. I picked her up and took her to the bathroom cleaned her up and started eating her out…we transitioned to the bed and I got a vibrator and as I’m about to put it on her clit her husband comes from behind and shoves his dick inside me and starts fucking me. I continue playing with her until she comes, once she does come she turns full size (as in she wasn’t a midget anymore) and walks out of the room. As her husband is pounding me I tell him “I’ve always wanted to be double penetrated but I’m not so sure how you feel about that.” His wife enters the room talking about how John would love to join in. He says “well I was just with john he just got married I’m not sure he could.” She grabs her phone and dial up john and leaves the room. A couple minutes pass and there’s a knock on the door and she comes back into the room, gets naked and throws on a robe. I looked at her and told her why didn’t she greet me that way. She looked at me and said with a smile “next time I will” she answers the door and it’s John and his wife. A couple minutes pass and John comes in and joins the husband and they start pounding me. John is under me fucking me wet, tight little pussy and the husband is in between my legs on his knees slowly putting his dick in my ass. We end up switching positions and it cuts to Johns wife joining us and the other wife watching all of us before she leaves the room. I end up eating her out and played with her until she came. Now I’m with the husbands all alone and they end up making me cum and squirt…as I’m still kinda recovering John tells me he’s about to cum and where he should do it..as he’s telling me this my breeding kink starts getting riled up and I start thinking about the idea of both of them cumming inside me and filling me up.. I bring up the idea to them and John tells me “why don’t we try to stretch out your pussy with our dicks, I can hold off on nutting so we can really fill you up.” At this point I get flustered by what this man just told me as well as the fact that I thought about all the nasty things I just did with these two couples. I tell them okay but to go slow since I’ve never done that. They both squeeze themselves into me nice and gently, then after a little I get dripping wet and they’re able to go ham and pound my shit and finally finish and they filled me up so much that I was dripping… waking up from this dream I felt as if I needed a shower with everything I had just gone through….

#nsft concept #story teaser

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nannychloecatalog · 3 months

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Mrs. Hazel Comes to Visit: Bryan’s Descent into Diapers, Regression, and Maternal Domination (Full-Length ABDL Novella)

(The following was first published on: May 31, 2024)

Excerpt:

(Notice: The following story features mature content in an ABDL setting. All characters are over the age of 18+.)

As I sat up in my crib in my crinkly pull-up diaper, my eyes squinting from the morning sun, I thought about how it had been about a week since the incident with Aunt Hazel. And about a week so far of being forced by my mom to wear humiliating pull-up diapers every night.

I looked across my bedroom-turned-nursery at the dormant diaper changing table and was confronted by the humiliating irony. I suddenly remembered the specifics of what I had fantasized about on the night of the incident, during the heat of my out of control, shameful, perverted fantasies about my Aunt Hazel…

I cringed, hating myself more than ever for my perverse, infantile desires that night. I hadn’t had so much as an erection or a sexual thought since, and I aimed to keep it that way.

Frankly, I was eager to swear off my deeply inappropriate, forbidden fantasies from that night for forever. And now that I had been forced to actually suffer the humiliation of wearing a diaper, even just a bedwetting pull-up, I was sure I would never have those perverse, infantile thoughts involving my aunt or anyone else ever again.

I sat up and stretched, resolving to hopefully just put the whole humiliating ordeal behind me, from the fantasies, to the consequences of the lie I had to tell to cover up my subsequent mess. After all, I was sure that my mom would stop making me wear these stupid pull-up diapers to bed soon, anyway, given that I had only woken up dry every day since it started. I sure hoped so, anyway…

But that’s when I suddenly felt an unexpected, sharp twinge in my bladder.

I suddenly realized I needed to pee. Bad.

It wasn’t unusual that I needed to pee in the morning when I first woke up. But this morning, it felt unexpectedly urgent.

I thought back to the night before, when my mom had given me a large glass of warm milk after dessert, which seemed to put me to sleep pretty quickly afterward, even at my early bedtime. No wonder I really had to pee this morning.

I jumped out of bed, ready to make a run for the bathroom down the hall. Immediately, the pressure in my bladder went from urgent to painfully desperate, just from standing upright.

I ran to the door of my bedroom, went to yank it open and…

The door didn’t budge.

For some reason, the handle wouldn’t turn. I tried it again. And again. I started frantically twisting and yanking and throwing my full weight on the doorknob, trying to get my door open, all to no avail.

I finally realized… my bedroom door was locked from the outside.

I remembered that my mom had switched the lock to the outside of the door when she transformed my bedroom into a nursery. Somehow, it seemed I had gotten locked in. One of us had probably locked me into my bedroom by mistake.

I was trapped.

I stood there in horror, naked except for my pull-up diaper, feeling as the pressure in my bladder was quickly becoming unbearable. I knew I wasn’t going to be able to hold it for much longer.

I began to panic.

“Mom? Mom!” I shouted out, pounding on the door. “Mom, are you out there? Mom! Mom!!! I think the door is locked, Mom! Please, come help me!!”

I frantically screamed and banged on the door louder and louder. But when I paused to listen, I still heard no sign of her. I realized she probably left the house to run errands that morning. If so, I had no idea when she might be home.

I turned around and started pacing back and forth in my nursery, hunched over in pain and squeezing my hands to my crotch. I racked my brain, desperately trying to think of what to do. I suddenly had to pee worse than I’d ever had to pee in my life! I needed to get to a bathroom, right now!

Of course, as I frantically looked around the room for any possible solution, the most obvious one was staring me in the face when I glanced down…

I was wearing a diaper. A Goodnites, bedwetting pull-up. But a disposable garment, made for exactly the purpose of peeing in, nonetheless.

But no! I swore to myself. The idea of it was mortifying. There was no way I was going to actually use the humiliating thing my mom made me wear for my non-existent bedwetting. There had to be another way!

Suddenly, I heard movement downstairs. I stopped and listened.

It sounded like my mom coming through the front door!

“Mom! Mom, up here!” I shrieked, running to the door of my bedroom, frantically banging and screaming again. “Mommy!!! Mommy, come help me!!!”

I paused, heaving for breath, desperately waiting for her to appear outside my door and save me. My bladder ached in agony. I crossed and twisted my legs. Just a few more seconds, I told myself. I only had to hold it for a few more seconds…

“Mommy!?” I called out again, my ear pressed to the door.

Silence.

My heart sank. Did I mishear? Was that not actually her downstairs? Or was she actually leaving the house, not coming home, and I just missed her?

Beads of sweat formed on my face as I felt a new sense of hopeless panic sweep over me. At a loss, I spun around to continue my frantic, desperate pacing. And just as I took a step—

“Bryan!”

Startled half-to-death, I spun on my heels. My mom was suddenly standing in the open doorway of my bedroom, right behind me.

“Bryan, what’s wrong? Why were you screaming?” she asked.

I stood in the middle of my nursery, staring back at her with a slack jaw, suddenly unable to move or speak.

“Bryan? Are you okay? Did you need me or not?” she repeated, folding her arms and staring at me.

But I was still helpless but to give a distant, vacant stare. It took me several seconds before my brain finally realized what was happening. And when it did… I just about wanted to die.

Hissssssssssssssssss…

I realized I was peeing. I was wetting my pull-ups, right then and there, right in front of my mother, while she crossed her arms and impatiently stared me down.

* * *

As I stood there in the middle of my bedroom-turned-nursery, naked except for my pull-up diaper, I suddenly wondered which was warming faster…

My cheeks with shame. Or my diaper with pee.

I managed to turn away and close my eyes while I felt the heat of my piss pouring into the front of my disposable pull-up, my urine pooling and soaking into the padding and quickly sagging around my shaft and balls.

I was utterly frozen. Paralyzed as I stood there with my bladder rapidly emptying. Pouring and dumping into my pull-up like a mighty waterfall. Flowing and flowing.

Then, the thing I was slowly growing even more terrified of happening… happened.

My pull-up started leaking. Badly.

I winced in horror as I suddenly felt fresh streams of my hot piss pouring out both of my pull-up’s leg bands, running down my legs, and gathering in a pool of piss around my feet.

I trembled in utter shock and mortification. And yet, I still couldn’t stop peeing. My bladder just continued helplessly releasing my seemingly gallons of urine.

Hissssssssssssssssssssssssssssssss…

As I stood petrified before my mother, my whole body burning red hot with embarrassment, I was certain I was toast. There was no way my mom wasn’t realizing I was pissing myself like a child right before her eyes.

But then, just as my bladder slowed and finished emptying at last, I heard my mom speak up again from the doorway. “Bryan? Did you hear me?”

I slowly looked up. And to my surprise, my mom wasn’t looking! She was replying to a message on her phone, seemingly distracted for the past several moments. I felt a surge of hope. She might not have noticed after all!

“Sorry!” I said, finally managing to snap out of my pee-induced trance long enough to respond. “Yes, I’m fine! I did need you, thanks for coming up here, my bedroom door got locked from the outside, that’s all. Thanks for opening it,” I blurted.

“Oh!” my mom said. “Oh, no problem, sorry about that. I should have warned you that I reversed the lock when I converted the room, and it probably got pushed in by mistake. Let’s both keep a better eye on it so you’re not locked in like that again. Let me know if you need anything else.”

And with that, my mom turned and left, leaving me alone in my piss-soaked pull-up.

I nearly fainted with relief. Somehow, it seemed she hadn’t noticed.

I took a deep breath, inadvertently emptying the last drops of my bladder into my pull-up. Then, I looked down to assess the damage.

My bedwetting disposable was soaked to the very max, visibly yellow, drooping, and still dripping pee down my legs into a puddle onto the foam, multi-colored padding at my feet.

I reached down and squished my soggy diaper, wincing at the strange feeling of mushiness and the sensation of cooling urine squirting down my legs. The stench of fresh, stinky urine suddenly hit my nose, making me feel very strange.

I groaned. I was such a mess.

I looked back up to see my bedroom door was still wide open. I knew I had just gotten impossibly lucky, with my mom somehow not noticing that I was fully pissing myself right in front of her.

But I now had a fresh surge of panic. I still had to change before my mom did discover that I had soaked my pull-up!

I waddled over to the door to close it, wincing with every step as the soggy pull-up mushed between my thighs and made an even bigger puddle of pee on the colorful foam floor.

Then, I waddled back over to the diaper pail, eyeing the wipes and other supplies on the changing table, hoping they would be enough to help me clean up. I knew the key thing was that I just had to get the soggy pull-up off me. I would figure out how to dispose of it and clean everything else up, later.

But just as I started to carefully slide the sopping wet pull-up down my legs…

“Oh, Bryan, before I forget…”

My mom suddenly barged back into my room without knocking.

We both froze.

“Umm, what are you doing?” she asked, staring at me from across the room. My back was to her, with the wet pull-up I was trying to remove still around my thighs.

“Huh?” I squeaked, quickly trying to yank my pull-up back up around my waist.

“It looks like you’re trying to change out of your nighttime pull-up already. What are the rules about your pull-ups in the morning, hon?” she lectured.

“Ummm…” I said. “Sorry, I thought you wouldn’t mind if this morning, I just umm… did it myself real quick…”

“I do mind,” she said, cutting me off. “You know I need to check your diaper for accidents in the morning before you change. Were you trying to hide something? Are you wet?” she asked, marching toward me.

I felt my face suddenly getting hot. “No, no, I’m fine, really, I just…”

I felt her hand grab the crotch of my diaper and squeeze, leaving me breathless.

“Oh, baby, you’re soaked!” she shouted.

All the color drained from my face. I was busted.

“And look, you leaked pee all over the floor!” my mom said in horror as she looked around. “Bryan, what has gotten into you? You know better than this! I can’t believe you wandered around your room and made such a mess while you were leaking like this!”

“No, Mom, it’s not what it looks like… I… uh… I mean…” I stammered in horror.

“My gosh, this thing is absolutely drenched with peepee! This is a mess, young man. This pull-up didn’t stand up to your peepee accident last night at all,” she said as she continued to rub and squeeze my soggy, saturated bedwetting pull-up against my groin and bottom. “We need to get you properly cleaned up and changed before you leak anymore across your bedroom. Come on, go ahead and hop up on the changing table for me, hon.”

“What!?” I blurted, turning to the diaper changing table in horror.

Not once had my mom ever even come close to suggesting I use the diaper changing table in my room in any way. The stupid thing was supposed to be for baby visitors who weren’t potty-trained yet. Not me, a grown adult, even if she did think I had a bedwetting problem! I was mortified.

“Mom, no!” I pleaded. “There’s no way I’m getting on that stupid diaper changing table, that’s for babies! It’s bad enough it’s even in my room. Don’t worry, I don’t actually even need your help to get cleaned up, really, I can do it my—“

SMACK! I was silenced by a sudden stinging slap to my wet bottom.

“Not another word, mister!” my mom scolded. “This isn’t a discussion. You are soaking wet, you’re dripping all over the floor with your pee, and you weren’t even going to tell me about it until I checked you myself. This is not acceptable behavior for a boy your age. In fact, it’s the behavior of an actual baby. So, since you want to act like a baby, you’re going to be treated like a baby. Which means up on the changing table so your mommy can change your diaper and clean you up. Right now!”

I looked up at my mom with humiliated, wounded eyes. But feeling helpless, I gave a meek nod and let her help me climb up on the changing table.

She put her hands on my chest, guiding me back to a laying down position. I then cringed in horror as I felt her tearing the sides of my pull-up open. “Mommy… no… please…” I whimpered, knowing my naked crotch was about to be fully exposed to her.

“Oh hush. It’s nothing I haven’t seen before,” she said as she spread my legs open and opened up my diaper, revealing my cold, tiny, pee-soaked genitals. “Oh dear, you are just absolutely soaked with peepee,” she said, shaking her head. “I need to start using baby powder on you to keep you from getting a rash.”

I covered my face with my hands as my mom pulled the pull-up away and started using handfuls of cool baby wipes to start wiping and cleaning me up. It was bad enough that she was seeing me naked. The fact that she was wiping my genitals and butt-crack clean were about a thousand times worse!

“I can’t believe you told Auntie you just had a minor bedwetting problem,” my mom said, shaking her head and holding the absolutely saturated pull-up up for inspection. “I don’t know how long you’ve been dealing with this issue again, but it’s clear you have a major bedwetting problem. No wonder you were distracted at college and failed your classes.”

I grimaced, wanting to argue with her terribly humiliating insinuation, but didn’t know how without digging myself into an even deeper hole.

“Well, seeing as these pull-ups have utterly failed the test of keeping you dry at night,” my mom said, dropping the pee-drenched Goodnite into the diaper pail with a loud squish. “We’re just going to have to change you into real, proper diapers at night from now on. I’m just glad they make the equivalent of maximum-absorbency baby-style pampers, even for boys your age.”

My sense of confusion and alarm at hearing her words turned to downright horror as I watched her suddenly retrieve from beneath the table a package of real, medical style, bright white, adult disposable diapers.

“Thank god I thought to pick these up, just in case the pull-ups didn’t do the job,” she said, pulling one of the massive, baby-style, super-padded, tab-style adult diapers out of the package. “Why don’t we try one on now to make sure they fit. I don’t want to have any surprises when we’re getting you ready for bed tonight.”

I was mortified as she unfolded the huge, baby-style pamper before my eyes. It felt like my worst nightmare was taking place. Being forced to sleep in a toddler’s nursery and wear pull-ups was bad enough. There was no way I could let her change me into actual diapers.

I realized I was about to lose my last remaining shreds of adult dignity, all because my mom thought I was a bedwetter.

My only hope now was to try to come clean…

“Mommy, no!” I screeched at the adult-sized, medical-style, tabbed diaper my mommy was unfolding while I laid on the changing table. “I don’t need to wear one of those! The thing is… there’s actually been a big misunderstanding about this whole diaper situation.”

My mommy paused, raised an eyebrow. “Excuse me?”

“Yeah! You see, well, the truth is… I’m not actually a bedwetter,” I blurted. “I swear, I don’t wet the bed, I’ve never wet the bed. When I told Auntie I was a bedwetter, I wasn’t actually telling the truth.”

My mom furrowed her brow. “You’re not a bedwetter? That’s very interesting. Especially because of this,” she said, reaching into the diaper pail retrieving my drenched goodnite. “Do you care to explain how this bedwetting diaper got so full of peepee, then? Huh?” she asked, holding the soaking wet, soggy, yellow, used pull-up to my face, causing me to blush and recoil from the overpowering stench of my own urine. “Because it sure looks to me like you did more bedwetting than this poor little diaper could even handle last night.”

“No! See, that’s the thing, I didn’t! I didn’t actually wet the bed. That’s not how I wet my pull-up,” I pleaded. “See, the thing is, I woke up completely dry this morning, like I always do. But what happened is, well, I just had an accident in my pull-up after I got up, that’s all. It was because my bedroom door was locked! That’s why I was calling for your help this morning, remember? I didn’t actually wet the bed, I swear! I just had an accident after I got up,” I panted in exasperation.

My mom paused and frowned, seemingly deep in thought. Surprisingly, she seemed to be taking my explanation seriously. “Really, Bryan? Are you being 100% serious? You’re not exaggerating or stretching the truth at all, that’s really what happened this morning? You didn’t actually wet the bed?”

“Yes, it’s the total truth, I swear,” I eagerly nodded.

“You promise, me? You really, really promise me that’s what happened?” she asked.

“Yes, please, you have to believe me,” I said. “I swear, Mom, I swear.”

My mom looked away, let out a long sigh. “Okay, dear, I believe you.”

I let out a huge sigh of relief.

“Alright, then,” she said, taking a deep breath. “Let’s go ahead and continue with getting you changed into your new max absorbency diaper,” she said, grabbing the big, puffy adult-sized pamper again.

“What!” I shrieked, sitting up on the changing table. “But why? I just told you I’m not actually a bedwetter. You said you believed me!”

“I do believe you, dear,” my mom said. “But what you told me is that you didn’t wet your pull-up in bed last night. You wet it after you woke up. Which means you’re not just a bedwetter. You’re apparently also a daytime wetter, too. Which means you need to start wearing adult-sized diapers during the day, now, as well.”

“What?!” I shrieked in horror. “No, no, Mom, you don’t understand. I told you, the only reason I had a peepee accident in my pull-up after I woke up was because the bedroom door was locked! Remember?”

My mom let out a long sigh. “Honey, this morning, I stepped out of the house for a couple minutes at the most, and I came running right to your door just seconds after I heard you calling out for me when I came back in. In total, the most amount of time you were locked in your room was less than five minutes.

“If you’re seriously telling me you can’t hold your peepee for even just five minutes to make it to the bathroom on time, that means you need to be in daytime diapers, hon,” my mom calmly explained. “But I am glad you were so honest with me about your wetting problem being worse than we thought, so we can start taking care of your daytime wetting properly. Now please, lay back,” she said, fluffing and placing the new diaper under my bottom.

“Mom, no, stop! You can’t be serious!” I pleaded in horror. “There’s no way I’m going to start wearing full-on adult diapers—not just at night, but during the day as well? I’m not a baby! You can’t do this to me! I’m sick of being treated like a two-year-old or something. I’m not gonna let you put that stupid big baby diaper on me, no matter what!“

With that, I grabbed the side of the changing table, and in a surge of adrenaline, tried to jump off.

But suddenly—Wham!

“That is enough!” my mom shouted while I yelped in shock. I realized she had twisted my arm and pinned me down to the changing table with lightning reflexes.

Then she swung one arm around my legs, pinning my ankles up and back, then used her other arm to start viciously laying into my totally exposed, naked bottom with her bare hand.

Whack! Whack! Whack! Whack! Whack!

“Don’t you ever, ever try to jump off the changing table while I’m changing you! It is extremely dangerous!” she scolded. “And don’t you ever, ever use that tone of voice with me again, young man!”

Whack! Whack! Whack! Whack! Whack!

“Oww, Mommy, stop!!!” I shrieked at the top of my lungs, bursting into tears of pain and humiliation.

Whack! Whack! Whack! Whack! Whack!

But she just kept going, lighting every inch of my bare ass on fire as I laid helplessly folded backwards on the changing table, my ass totally exposed.

Whack! Whack! Whack! Whack! Whack! Whack! Whack! Whack! Whack! Whack! Whack! Whack! Whack! Whack! Whack!

By time she was finished, I was sobbing and crying like a hysterical baby on the changing table. Any willpower I had to resist was broken. I was ready to do anything just to make the pain and humiliation stop.

“There you go!” my mommy declared, finally lowering my feet. “When you moved back in, I warned you that I wasn’t afraid to punish you if need be. Well now, you’ve forced me to just give you the first spanking of your life, because you refused to follow very easy directions from your mommy, like staying still for your diaper change. Now, are you ready to apologize and behave yourself? Or do I need to continue with more punishment?”

“No, no, no!” I whimpered in pain, wiping my tears and snotty nose on the back of my hand. “I’m sorry, Mommy, I’ll be good, I promise, I promise!”

“And what does that mean specifically, right now?” she scolded.

I looked down at the huge, crinkly, adult-sized baby diaper still unfolded below me on the table, looked back at my mom, and sighed in utter, humiliated defeat. “I’ll be a good boy and wear my diaper whenever you say I have to,” I murmured.

“Good boy!” my mommy grinned, lightly patting my burning hot behind. She took a moment to catch her breath, then proceeded with pushing the thick, puffy, white, disposable diaper under my butt again. “I hope I never have to give you a spanking like that again. But that depends on you, okay? Remember that. Good boys get hugs and kisses. Naughty boys gets spankies.”

“Yes, Mommy,” I answered, doing my best to dry my sniffling tears of pain and humiliation.

I suddenly felt a wave of searing shame, knowing I really had just been a naughty, naughty boy.

___________

Buy now to read the rest of this full-length (130+ pages) Novella!

Buy on Amazon:

https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0D5KBR1HM

Buy on Lulu:

https://www.lulu.com/shop/nanny-chloe/mrs-hazel-comes-to-visit-bryans-descent-into-diapers-regression-and-maternal-domination-an-abdl-novella/ebook/product-q6nndpn.html

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www.nannychloetales.com

#ab dl #ab/dl

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sunglasses-snake · 1 year

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I've had a long week;

Tuesday my coworker wanted to be at the pay station, that's where we sell memberships and get good reviews for good customer service. It's our most "service worker" position and typically only goes to like 3 of us cause we the only ones who smell good enough. When my boss told us to switch, cause he made me go in the tunnel, he threw a hissy fit (complete with stomping and screaming) (this is a 43 year old man btw who openly carries a gun off shift) and stormed off leaving me to work a 10 hour shift by myself (closing too btw). It was supposed to only be 6 hours. Didn't get fired either, only written up AGAIN. This is the 7th time in the 5 months I've been working here and he STILL WORKS HERE.

Thursday I'm working with the same coworker. He spends all shift out at the pay station cause our boss isn't here to force him off and I don't want to work alone again. (It's extremely hard, you have to balance like 30 things at once and it's EXHAUSTING). Ended up working by myself anyway cause when I say all shift I mean the hour and a half he was actually "working" while I was here. He spent 20 minutes in the bathroom when I first got there, spent an HOUR AND A HALF polishing his motorcycle and then immediately after he says to me "I'm taking my break" and POOF for the next 30 minutes. Came back in his car and proceeded to smoke weed for the rest of shift. When time to close came, he took 40 minutes to spray the tunnel, the easiest job btw, and I had to do everything else. I couldnt leave until he is done either. He lives 3 minutes away. I HAVE A 40 MINUTE WALK.

Friday was a normal day until SOMEONE TRIED TO HIT ME WITH THEIR CAR. "Oh they probably didn't see you" said the police. The only reason I'm alive is cause their tires did a slight burnout before they started moving making a loud screech that warned me.

Yesterday I got yelled at by my gm cause my boss threw me under the bus. She said I was the reason sales were so low last month, that I was lazy out at the pay station. I have the most sales but she takes credit for like 70% of mine cause she refuses to let me put them in. I got yelled at and written up. Later that day I get a text from my ex asking to hang out. I said no cause that usually means she's gonna try and take some money from me. Then a (I'm not saying this to shame her, just point out she was *quite* a character) bright pink Mercedes-Benz wouldn't stop and pulled onto a roller that was actively coming out and it ripped her bumper off and fucked up the base plate on our machine. So now I had to file an incident report and fix the base plate. The incident report took 20 minutes which is like really fast, the lady who was dressed in a skintight bright pink body suit, one of those puffy jackets ALSO bright pink, Bright blond hair and had some of the longest eye lashes I had ever seen, was extremely helpful and was really nice. (Probably the nicest person to me this week). She really helped speed along the process. She admitted on the report that she was not paying attention and was on her phone. She also offered to pay for any damages to the machines, I turned her down cause base plates are easy as fuck to fix. Speaking of the base plate, when I eventually got around to putting that back together I had a customer ( who got a full refund btw) talking to me about how it was unacceptable that he had to wait 15 minutes and didn't even get the wash. Base plate got fixed and work resumed as normal. What was my coworkers doing during that whole thing? Hotboxing the first coworkers mention car. Like... actual hotboxing. On the clock. With zero repercussions. That doesn't even end the day btw, when I got home and finished puking cause of stress (common thing I've talked with my doctor about it, she recommended me my current therapist) I tried to log on to my PS5 and my subscription had run out so I had to ask my sister to pay for it and I'll get her back on Wednesday. More puke.

Today is shaping up to be as bad cause I always sit at a bench down the street to rest my feet before my shift and my coworker who was late got angry at me for not coming in ASAP to help open. I closed last night btw. When I walked up, another coworker saw me, smiled, and immediately stopped doing the towels and left them there for me to do. Wanna know what he went to do? Sit in his car. When I went out to the pay station, he didn't even bother getting out of his car, he just honked and signaled for me to be in the tunnel. Again. Later when my boss asks me why nothing has been sold, I have to explain to her it's cause they sit in their car and put in the bare minimum effort. Hearing that you think "minimum wage minimum effort" they make $16 an hour. That's not minimum wage. *I* make minimum wage. I've been here an hour and a half and I'm about make myself puke on purpose just to go home and fuck these guys over.

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luci-in-trenchcoats · 3 years

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Drift Away (Part 5)

Summary: The reader tries to work through what her feelings for Jensen truly are but he’s not making it any easier for her...

Masterlist

Pairing: Jensen x reader

Word Count: 3,900ish

Warnings: language

A/N: Jared really does have idiot friends hahaha

______

“Y/N,” said Jensen late that night as you walked back from dinner, your sandals in hand. You hummed and he chuckled. “Oh come on. It’s only eight. Don’t tell me you’re tired already.”

“Too much wine. I’ll perk up,” you said. “We have chocolate cheesecake coming to the villa shortly I’m more than looking forward to.”

“I love that you always have room for dessert,” he said, lazily taking your hand. He was a little drunk but you didn’t pull away.

“Life’s too short to worry about not eating all the good food,” you said, tugging him along the path and down to the villa. He did drop your hand when you put the code in, letting you step into the nice air conditioned space first. “I’m gonna put on something more comfortable.”

“I’m going to turn on the fire pit on the deck,” he said. “Don’t take too long.”

“I won’t,” you said. He slipped outside and you took a deep breath, watching Jensen flip the switch on the fire pit and take a seat out there. You gathered up your pajamas and sat down on the bench at the end of the bed, looking out of the dark bedroom to the back deck.

His back was to you, a sleek black polo with white flowers on that you just knew was expensive and a pair of white fitted dress pants. His dress shoes were black and you watched him kick them off, pushing them aside.

You glanced down to your decade old sleep shorts in your lap and an oversized shirt you were pretty sure you got for free. Sure, he didn’t always dress that way but his closet was a hell of a lot nicer than yours. His car was nicer than yours. He drank better, ate better. He worked out. He was willing to work out for two hours a day for a role. He was always there for friends, always saying yes and helping out.

Maybe it was better if you didn’t entertain the idea that he liked you. You were never going to be on his playing field, no matter how good of a realtor you ever were. With a sigh you stood and went into the bathroom, locking the door behind you. After changing you washed off your face, sniffling to yourself.

“Y/N,” you heard through the other side of the door. “Food’s here.”

“Just a sec,” you said, turning on the water. You took a deep breath and grabbed the countertop, leaning against it. “I don’t like him. I don’t like him. He’s just my best friend. That’s it. He doesn’t like me and I don’t like him. Clay was full of it and I’m not going to suddenly like Jens like that. I mean if I liked him at all I would have noticed by now. I would have felt something like a crush or something so I clearly don’t like him and earlier was just me trying to force myself to like him.”

You took a deep breath and nodded, watching the face in the mirror look worriedly back.

“Or I had so little confidence back then I wasn’t capable of liking anyone. I didn’t even like me back then. Then we were both in relationships and I never even thought about it until today.”

You shook your head and turned off the water. You could deal with this tomorrow when Jensen was golfing and you had a moment alone. When you exited outside he was in one of his black henley tees and a pair of boxer briefs, a smile appearing on your face.

“Here I thought I’d be the one not dressed up enough,” you said, stepping out back and sitting down the table.

“If I could walk around in this outfit every single day I’d be a happy man,” he chuckled, picking up a bottle of something and pouring some in your glass. “It’s a virgin rum punch.”

“You think of everything,” you said, opening up the container with the cheesecake and taking a piece for yourself.

“Completely selfish on my part. I don’t want to be hungover golfing tomorrow. You sure you don’t want to come with? I’m only planning to do nine holes, should only take me a few hours at most.”

“Nah. I’ll slow you down and I’m not big on golf. I think I’m gonna hang out by the resort pool, maybe go shopping for a dress for the fancy restaurant here. Maybe get something more tropical.”

“What’s wrong with the dress you brought?” he asked, taking a bite of cheesecake and humming.

“Nothing. It’s just...I ordered it online from Macy’s. During a sale. It’s not you know, a Michelin star restaurant in the Caribbean worthy.”

“So I wasn’t imagining you staring at my outfit tonight,” he said. You pretended to focus on dessert, Jensen eating silently for a moment. “Y/N. You know me. Do I have some nice shit and wear it sometimes? Yeah. Do I also wear the same shirt three days in a row to bed? Tell me outside of an event or a nice dinner, do I dress like that?”

“Not really but-”

“But nothing. I love all your cute little outfits no matter where they come from and I’m sure the dress you brought is amazing.”

“I just kinda...got in over my head a bit. There’s a lot of rich people here with designer clothes,” you said.

“You alright?” he asked, reaching over and tucking a stray hair from your ponytail away from your food. “You’ve been a bit silly today more than once.”

“Honestly?” you asked. He smiled, reaching across the table and holding your hand. You squeezed it back and took a deep breath. “I think the thing with Derek took more of my confidence than I thought. Some stupid little part of me thinks if I dressed better, acted more like his fiance, would he have gone looking for a fiance in the first place.”

“Y/N he’s a cheating whore and he’s going to cheat on that woman for the rest of his life. He’s pathetic. You have standards. What you wore was never going to change that. Never change for a fucking guy, especially someone like him.”

“I know. It’s hard when your world gets flipped upside down like that. It’s just moments right now. I’m okay, I promise.” You took a big piece of cake and chewed slowly, silently cursing yourself for letting him see you staring like that. He pulled his hand back and you knew he was watching you, could see the gears turning in your head. “I’m just...I wonder why someone like you is my friend...if I’m being brutally honest about everything today.”

“You’re my friend because I enjoy your company. Sure, you were my realtor at first but I just really liked hanging out with you. I liked your humor, your kindness. It shifted real early on for me and I wouldn’t care if you sold ice cream cones out of a truck. You’d still be my best friend.”

“That means a lot to me right now,” you said quietly, watching the flames cast a flickering light across his face. He got up and stopped beside your chair, picking you up and sitting back down in his own, your legs dangling over the arm rests. “What are you doing goofy?”

“Giving you a hug,” he said. You hung one arm loosely around your waist to keep you steady, the other reaching for his fork to finish off his dessert. “I like hugs a lot you know.”

“You give the best ones,” you said, closing your eyes, resting your head on his shoulder for a moment. “I’m sorry I’ve been a downer today.”

“No you haven’t. You’ve been a person and today you need a little extra love is all,” he said. You moved your arms around him and hugged him tight, Jensen kissing your temple, his lips lingering. You didn’t look up, didn’t want to see if that was an innocent kiss or one hoping for more. “You didn’t finish your food.”

“Got kidnapped by a wild hugger,” you said.

“Gotta watch out for those,” he said. You begrudgingly shifted around when you felt him reach for your plate, trying not to put too much weight on him while you ate from the plate in your hand. “What can I do to make you feel better tonight, anything at all.”

“No matter what?”

“No matter what.”

“God you’re really gonna make me say it, aren’t you.”

“Want me to hold you?” You nodded, Jensen taking the plate away when it was empty. He was done with his as well and you felt him move an arm under your legs. You held on when he stood, moving over to the big chair by the firepit, taking a seat with you. He spread out his legs and moved you to settle in his lap, resting your head under his chin.

“Thanks,” you whispered.

“Always,” he said softly in return. He didn’t speak, holding you to his chest and watching the flames dance in front of you. His fingers wandered though, dancing up and down your arms, Jensen letting out soft shushing sounds every so often.

God he was the only man on earth you’d ever met that liked to fucking cuddle.

You were insane if you didn’t at least give him a chance.

“Sh. Stop overthinking,” he said. “Just relax tonight, sweetheart.”

“Okay,” you said quietly. You tried to let go of the thoughts spinning through your head and forget about them all. Just relax like he said.

But he was warm. And soft. And made you feel safe, like you being in pain caused him pain.

You inhaled deeply, Jensen resting his hand on your head. There was a light breeze in the air, a cozy scent from the fire drifting around. You burrowed further into him, Jensen wrapping himself all around you.

“I got you. Promise.”

You woke up to sun filtering into the bedroom, stretching and scratching your arm, rolling over to find Jensen awake in bed, staring up at the ceiling. He turned his head and smiled, a few stray hairs matted down on his forehead.

“Good morning,” he said. He stretched out his bare arms and you lazily watched the muscles flex, Jensen smiling softly. “You awake yet?”

“Mhm,” you hummed, closing your eyes. “Did I fall asleep outside?”

“Yeah. We didn’t sit out there too long before I brought you in.”

“Sorry for-”

“Y/N. Do me a favor. Stop apologizing so much for things you don’t have to apologize for,” he said. You looked up through your lashes, Jensen tilting his head. “Deal?”

“Deal Ackles,” you said. You bundled down into the sheets, Jensen chuckling as he got up, standing up on his tiptoes and stretching out. He bent down, touching his toes, nothing between you and him save for a pair of sleek black boxer briefs.

“I think while you’re being a sleepy head I’m gonna shower and head out for golf. You’re sure you don’t want to come?”

“I’m sure. We’ll get lunch when you get back,” you said.

“Sounds like a plan boss,” he said, rubbing his stomach as he went over to his suitcase, grabbing a clean pair of underwear and heading into the bathroom. He left the door open, the water going after a moment, some soft humming following soon after.

“Oh. Let’s add wonderful singer to the list because how could we forget that one,” you said to yourself, looking over to the open door, sighing to yourself.

You couldn’t figure this out alone. You needed advice. Only your go to guy was currently off limits. You rolled over, putting your back to the door and staring blankly out the glass to the ocean, watching the waves rollup.

“You feeling alright?” you heard him say, a hand touching your forehead.

“Daydreaming,” you said, Jensen wearing shorts and pulling a polo with bright flowers on. “You know that’s a ridiculous shirt.”

“Yeah but I like wearing ridiculous shirts,” he chuckled. “I will see you for lunch. Don’t spend the whole morning in bed.”

“I won’t,” you said, waving him out the door, sitting up when the villa grew quiet. “Alright. Time for an expert.”

“Hi Jared,” you said a short while later, sitting in the infinity pool, your phone on speaker on the edge of the deck.

“Hey! How’s the trip going? Jensen annoy you to death yet?” You laughed, shaking your head. “You guys having fun?”

“Yeah. It’s gorgeous here. I’m really glad he convinced me to still go.”

“You should. I get to come on the next trip though, right?”

“The Pads are definitely invited,” you said, leaning back against the pool wall, resting your arms behind you. “Jared. I had a reason I was calling.”

“Want me to drop by the house?”

“No, it’s not that,” you said. You took a deep breath and spun around, resting your arms on the deck, standing and pulling your sunglasses down over your eyes. “Jared we’re good friends aren’t we?”

“Yeah…”

“Best friends?”

“I know you’re closer with Jensen than me but yeah. Y/N, what’s going on?”

“He’s like your brother. Would you keep something from your brother if I asked you to?”

“Yes and before you say anything, I’d keep his secrets from you too.”

“I know that,” you said. You sunk down into the water and stood up. “I’m not calling to ask Jensen’s feelings about me.”

“That leaves your feelings about him then.”

“How do you know if you might love someone or if you’re just in love with the idea of being in love,” you said. He was quiet on the other end, a door opening and closing, a slight rustling of leaves in the background.

“Y/N you’ve been in relationships before. I don’t have to explain to you-”

“Jare. How do you know?”

“If you’re asking the question, a question you haven’t asked yourself before, then you know.”

“But how do I know I’m not convincing myself to fall in love with him because I think he might have feelings back?”

“I was never best friends for six years with Gen first. It just was a connection and when we met again, it went very fast from there. You’re in a different ballpark than I was.” You closed your eyes, lowering your head down. “Y/N. Is this new? I feel like we would have talked about it before if it wasn’t.”

“I don’t know what I feel. That’s the problem. He’s perfect. Absolutely perfect. And I don’t know if I’m tricking myself into liking him just because or if it’s real.”

“How’s his voice make you feel?” he asked after a moment. You paused, lifting your chin and watching a couple go past way down on the beach. “One word answer.”

“Comfortable.”

“What would you do if you never saw him again?”

“Go insane,” you breathed out. “He’s my best friend. But I’d do the same thing with you.”

“Can you live without him in your life?”

“Nope,” you said, hopping up on the deck edge, twirling your feet gently in the warm water.

“This is gonna sound like a dark one but if you only could see one person ever again for all of eternity, is it him?”

“Jared of course the answer is him. But it’s him because he’s my best friend. He’d be those answers a week ago before I even started to think about this.”

“Y/N. This is something you have to figure out yourself. But. Speaking from experience of what loving someone is like after being married for a while...love isn’t always heart racing and butterflies in the stomach. It can be your best friend. Comfortable.”

“This has not been helpful in the slightest,” you laughed.

“Y/N. Why are you wondering if you love him all of a sudden?”

“I met this guy down here yesterday. Jensen and I had this stupid fight. It’s all fine now but I just kinda noticed some things about him, things that made me wonder if he feels something more...and then I was wondering why I never felt a crush or anything like that. I don’t...it’s why I think I want to love him but don’t actually love him like that.”

“You barely let the boy be your friend at first you were so nervous around him. How do you know none of that was from a crush?”

“Because I didn’t. I didn’t daydream about him or ever check him out. I’m making this up in my head obviously,” you said with a sigh.

“You don’t know that. It was a long time ago and I remember you used to be nervous. You very well could have had a crush and didn’t know it.”

“Well why the fuck didn’t I get butterflies and why didn’t I get that shock to the heart feeling and how the hell am I supposed to have that connection when none of that ever happened?”

“It’s never happened?”

“Maybe it did yesterday for a split second but that’s only because I tricked my head into it.”

“Or because for the first time in your life you really looked at Jensen. The real Jensen.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means you see all of him now. Not just best friend Jensen. But Jensen, the whole person. You let yourself see him because maybe that part of you that doesn’t get a choice at all of who you love went oh, he’s been here the whole time.”

“But how do I know Jared?”

“There’s a reason love is a leap of faith sometimes. He’s gonna get the most vulnerable parts of you if you do love him. And I know you’ve been hurt before. Bad. But the past few weeks, Jensen’s been the guy protecting those hurt pieces, putting them back together. Maybe you’re finally realizing it’s safe to love him because he’d never hurt you.”

“But how?”

“Y/N,” he chuckled. “Sweetie. Only you know the answer to that. But as someone who’s watched your friendship for years, I know you do love him and he loves you. Is that romantic love? For you, I think you know the answer deep down.”

“But-”

“Y/N. Opening yourself up to him and saying here’s my heart, please don’t hurt it is going to be the most terrifying thing you do in your life. For about five seconds. And then you’ll find out how he feels and get your answer.”

“You sound like I’m already in love with him.”

“You know I thought Gen deserved better than me. She asked me out, told me we were dating. She had to take the lead at first. I still think she deserves better. Because when you love someone, I mean really love them, you want them to be happy, even if it hurts you.”

You took a shaky breath, ripping off your sunglasses to rub your eyes. Your pulse felt fast, breaths coming in short spurts.

“Jared. I don’t want him to want me.”

“It’s confusing to love someone when you don’t love yourself isn’t it.”

“I…” you trailed off, looking over to the patio chairs, spotting one of his hats on it. “Jared. What do I do?”

“Don’t worry. You’re gonna give in to the fact you love him sooner or later. Then you just gotta decide to live with not saying a word about it or have those five most terrifying seconds of your life.”

“How do I know it’s not just the idea of loving him?” you asked quietly.

“Same way I knew from the second we started talking about this. You’re terrified of losing him by entertaining this thought so it’s easier to pretend it’s your mind playing a trick on you.”

“But how do you know?”

“Because you’re talking to me, not him, the guy you go to for everything. Like I said, it’s scary. But scary stuff can be really, really good. If you let it.”

“I’m still not convinced I actually might be capable of loving him.”

“How do you know what falling in love with your person is like? How do you know it hasn’t happened?”

“Because...that’s not how it happens. That’s not how it happened to you guys. You felt attraction and-”

“Y/N. Be fucking honest with yourself. For a split second stop trying to tell yourself that it’s just the idea of love you’re in love with. Do you want Jensen?”

“No,” you said softly, closing your eyes. “I fucking need him. Shit Jared I can’t not have him in my life. But I’m scared it’s not real.”

“Because Derek wasn’t real?” he said.

“I just want to love somebody and somebody to love me. What if I want it so bad I’m making it up?” you breathed out. “My stomach’s supposed to do flips when I see him and it’s never been like that. It’s just...calm.”

“Oh sweetie. You two have hardly known each other when you’re both single and I know you’d never even think about it when either of you is with someone. But calm? That’s love Y/N. You’ll get the nerves and butterflies now that you let yourself think about it. Why else would you be calling me? We both know you know the answer. You have the whole time.”

“I love Jensen,” you said, breathing deeply, little tingles running down your legs. “Shit do I actually love him?”

“Yes you do you fucking moron,” said Jared. “Jesus christ.”

You started to laugh, Jared joining in.

“Do I still have to convince you? I saw you checking out his ass just last week you know.”

“I wasn’t…did I really?”

“Oh absolutely and girl you were not subtle.”

“Did he-“

“No. He has no idea. But it sounds like you finally are okay with this information.”

“I mean, he’s everything I want and need. I’m more than happy to fall in love with him. But I have to be careful. I just got out of a relationship and he’s not going to exactly be open to the idea right now.”

“Just take it slow. Enjoy it and when it’s time to bring it up, you will.” You laid back on the deck, watching the one stray cloud move in the otherwise bright blue sky.

“Am I crazy for thinking maybe there’s something on his end? Or am I just making it up.”

“You’re not crazy for caring about him. You don’t know how happy I’d be to see you two together. But just like I’ll never say a word about this to him, the same goes for if he ever talks about this sort of thing with you.”

“No hints?”

“Your hint is you’re an idiot. Have fun on vacation.”

“I will. Bye Jared,” you said softly, the phone going quiet after a moment. You hummed, kicking your feet in the water, a few stray droplets jumping against your legs. “Maybe I am an idiot.”

You turned your head, looking over through the glass to inside the villa, Jensen’s suitcase on the floor, a few belongings scattered throughout the room.

“Maybe that’s not a bad thing,” you said quietly, closing your eyes. “We’ll just wait and see where it goes from there. That’s all I can do.”

______

A/N: Read Part 6 here!

#spn #supernatural #jensen x reader #jensen ackles #jensen ackles x reader #spn fanfiction #jensen x #jensen #jensen x you #jensen ackles fanfiction #supernatural fanfiction

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