#over drugs that work but hold risk of ''''''abuse''''''
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The Devil is Real (Part 1)
Summary: Your troubled older brother disappeared two years ago, vanishing without a trace; that is until one day you receive a letter from him. He’s living in Spain after having joined a religious group called Los Iluminados, his life seemingly changed for the better. He would love it if you came to visit him. Who are you to refuse an invitation from your beloved big brother, right?
Word Count: 4.2k
Pairing: plagas!Leon Kennedy x fem!reader (afab)
Disclaimer: This story is a work of fiction. Actions depicted in this story are not condoned in real life. You are responsible for your own content consumption. If any of the following warnings trigger you, please read at your own risk. Minors do not interact, this story is 18+ only.
Warnings: drug abuse mention, abusive household mention, religious cult, religious trauma, body horror, noncon, dubcon, unprotected p in v, creampie, oral (m and f receiving), kidnapping, yandere tendencies, somno, extreme violence and gore, human sacrifice, murder, blood play/kink, breeding kink, pregnancy, pet names, stockholm syndrome, DEAD DOVE: DO NOT EAT [More warnings may be added in future parts]
A/N: I want to give a shoutout to @d10nyx, who's bot heavily inspired this new series. I had been wanting to write plagas!Leon again for so long, but I wanted to do something I hadn't seen done before and my interaction with her bot planted the seed (breeding kink go brrrrrrrrrrrr). This will likely be my darkest series yet so if that's not your jam, I kindly ask that you keep scrolling. It should be noted that any of the Spanish seen in this series is either from my extremely vague recollection of the language from my youth or from Google translate, so I apologize if there's any weird grammar in any of the Spanish, it is not my intention to butcher the language.
I hope you guys like thrill rides :3
The title is inspired by Bad Things performed by I Prevail
April 22, 2008
Sis,
I apologize for this being the first time I’ve contacted you in two years, but I promise you, it was for good reason. I finally got help. I moved out to Spain to this lovely rural area called Valdelobos to live with this wonderful community called Los Iluminados. I’ve been sober for just over two years because of them. I would really love it if you came to visit, you would absolutely love it here, sis! I would love more than anything to share with you the community that has made such a huge difference in my life. I don’t have access to a computer, so you’ll have to send me a letter to reply. You can find the return address on the envelope. I eagerly await your letter!
With all my love,
Vince
You sit on your old saggy couch, gently holding the handwritten letter in your hands like it’s going to disintegrate. Your mind is in turmoil; your older brother Vincent, or Vince as most people call him, had disappeared about two years ago. He struggled with drug addiction when he reached adulthood, always chasing his next high. When you had reported him missing, police searched everywhere for him for weeks until you finally had to come to terms with the fact that he was most likely dead.
This letter, however, says otherwise.
“Who’s it from?” your boyfriend asks before sitting beside you, seeing the strained look on your face and growing concerned.
You don’t answer him at first, your eyes locked on the weathered piece of paper. Realizing your boyfriend, Mark, had asked you a question, you blink a few times and shake your head, snapping yourself out of the shocked daze.
“It’s from Vince,” you reply, looking over at Mark.
Mark looks at the paper you’re holding, then back to you, “are you sure it’s from Vince?”
“Of course I’m sure! That is definitely his handwriting. He’s alive!”
You hand the letter to Mark, who takes a moment to read the letter himself, adjusting his glasses as he does so, “he wants you to go visit. What are you going to do?”
“I have no idea…” you say softly, burying your face in your hands as you continue to struggle with your emotions.
Growing up, all you had was your brother, having lost your parents at a young age. Growing up, the both of you lived with your grandparents, but they were very abusive. As soon as Vince had turned 18, he fought to become your legal guardian and the two of you moved out. Unfortunately, Vince had turned to drugs to deal with his trauma, but could you blame him? Your grandfather was especially hard on Vince; there were many nights you could remember falling asleep to the sounds of the two of them shouting and throwing things at each other.
There’s a ten year gap between you and your brother, so naturally Vince had become something of a father figure to you, especially considering you were only two when your parents had died. A car accident you had been told; hit by a drunk driver on the way home from a New Year’s party. You felt like life always dealt you a shitty hand. First your parents, then your brother. But now, your brother seems to be back and he’s ok; he’s sober. You should be happy, so why are you so conflicted?
“I’m going to do some research on this ‘Los Iluminados’ group,” you finally say before standing up from the couch to walk into your bedroom, “make sure it isn’t some Jim Jones bullshit…”
“I’ll get dinner started then,” Mark says, also standing up, making his way over to the kitchen, “I’ll holler when dinner’s ready.”
You nod at Mark before walking into the bedroom, sitting down at your desk in the corner of the room, opening your laptop and powering it on. You open up Internet Explorer and open a new Google search window, typing in Los Iluminados which unsurprisingly yielded zero results; with them not having computer access, it makes sense that there’s no trace of this group on the internet by searching their name. You then search cults in Spain and skim through the results. Again, there’s no mention of Los Iluminados anywhere. Drumming your fingers on your desk, you begin to question the letter’s legitimacy. Whoever sent it knew where you lived and that your brother had been missing for two years. No one would go through that much trouble just to prank someone.
“Babe, dinner’s ready!” you hear Mark call from the kitchen.
Letting out a sigh, you reluctantly stand up from your desk, walking out of the bedroom to join your boyfriend in the living room, who just finished putting both your plates down onto the coffee table. Laying in the middle of the living room, your 8 year old brindle English Mastiff, André, lifts his head lazily, sniffing the air upon smelling food. You can’t help but let out a chuckle as you sit down on the couch, grabbing your plate to start eating.
“Even in his old age, André has a one track mind,” Mark says, watching as the large dog gets up from the floor. Mark gently pats him on the head, “don’t you buddy?”
“He sure does,” you reply, reaching over to pat the gentle giant before returning to your meal.
“Were you able to find anything on that group in the letter?” Mark asks, looking over at you before taking a bite of food.
“Not a damn thing. Which I guess makes sense but still…” you say, your voice trailing off as you let out a heavy sigh, “something about it just doesn’t sit well with me.”
“Then we go to Spain, find out if this group is real or not and bounce if it’s just a wild goose chase,” Mark says, weaving his left hand through the air as he speaks.
“And who’s going to watch André?”
André’s big brown eyes look between the two of you, letting out a soft whimper. Mark mouths the word ‘fuck’ before taking another bite of dinner.
“Right,” Mark says quietly, giving André another pat on the head.
The two of you finish eating dinner in silence, afterwards helping each other clean up the dishes. You let Mark know that you’re going to write a response to Vince’s letter, heading back up to the bedroom to sit back at the desk, pulling out a notebook and a pencil.
May 15, 2008
Vince,
First, I just want to say I am relieved to see that you’re ok and that you’re doing better. You had dropped off the face of the earth and I couldn’t find you anywhere; I thought you were dead! I’m so incredibly glad I was wrong. And, of course, congratulations are in order for your two years of sobriety. I know that’s something you really struggled with and I’m glad this community was able to help you. Is it a religious group? I think Los Iluminados roughly translates to “The Enlightened Ones” if my vague recollection of Spanish serves me right. Regardless, I would love to come visit you and see where you’ve been living these past two years, just let me know where I need to go.
Sis
May 31, 2008
Sis,
I was so excited to see you had written back that I practically ripped the envelope open. Los Iluminados is a small religious community and, I know what you’re thinking, it’s not a cult, so you have nothing to worry about there. They’re really big on living a traditional, almost pagan-like lifestyle and for me, being able to unplug while I got better was exactly what I needed. I’m hoping after experiencing Los Iluminados yourself that you’ll feel the same. As far as getting you here goes, you’ll want to fly into Valencia Airport, we’ll come pick you up from there. Call the enclosed number once you have your flight booked and tell Maria what day you’re coming. I’m looking forward to seeing you!
Vince
You tuck the letter back in your carry on bag, leaning back in your seat on the airplane and closing your eyes. You land in Valencia Airport in less than an hour and you are doing everything in your power to keep your nerves in check and not get your hopes up. You did as Vince had asked, you called this woman named Maria and with really broken Spanish, you had told her you were flying in on June 17th. At some point you must have dozed off because you’re jolted awake when the plane lands on the tarmac.
The plane pulls into the dock and you along with the other passengers file out. You head down to baggage claim to grab your luggage; you had packed about a week’s worth of clothes since you didn’t know how long you were staying. You low key were hoping to talk your brother into coming back to the States with you, but that’s a bridge you’ll cross when you get there. That thought is far from your mind, however, when you get through airport security and immediately spot your brother holding a large sign with your name on it. Your mouth hangs agape as you stop in your tracks. The last time you had seen him, he was a 33 year old who looked almost 50 due to his years of drug abuse. Now? He has color in his face, he’s gained weight and actually looks healthy. His clothes are a little disheveled and covered in dirt, but he’s smiling, probably the first time you’ve seen him smile since you were children.
Dropping your luggage, you run over to your brother, throwing your arms around him and hugging him tight, tears freely flowing from your eyes as you cry out, “it’s you, you’re real! You’re alive!”
Vince tightly hugs you back, rocking you both back and forth before stepping back, smiling down at you as his hands remain on your shoulders, “look at you! All grown up; 25 has treated you nicely!”
You playfully scoff before walking back to grab your luggage, “hardly.”
You return to Vince, who then takes your luggage from you as the two of you begin to walk out of the airport, “how’s Mark? You two are still together, I take it?”
“We are! He’s doing good, he’s at home watching André.”
“André is still around? That’s nice to hear!” Vince says as the two of you walk up to a very beat up looking sedan, “here’s our luxury limousine!”
You playfully smack him with the back of your hand, “very funny, Vince.”
You watch as Vince opens the trunk of the sedan, putting your luggage inside, he looks up at you as he closes the trunk, “go ahead and get in the back seat, Sis.”
You nod in acknowledgement, climbing into the back seat, your brother joining you shortly after. An older couple sits in the driver’s and passenger’s sides of the sedan, promptly driving away from the airport once you and your brother put your seatbelts on.
“We have about a three hour drive ahead of us, you must be exhausted from your flight,” Vince says, looking over at you and giving you a warm smile.
You nod, feeling your eyes grow heavy from jet lag, however you force your eyes to stay open; you desperately don’t want to miss a single moment with your brother.
“Hey,” Vince lays a hand on your shoulder, “it’s ok, get some rest, I’ll wake you up when we get close to the village.”
“If you say so…” you reply softly.
You hesitantly let your eyes close, drifting off into a dreamless sleep. It feels like only a moment has passed when Vince shakes you awake.
“Hey Sis, we’re here!”
After getting out of the car, there was still a considerable hike until you got to the village proper. Once getting there, however, you find yourself pleasantly surprised. You weren't sure what you were expecting of a small village at the center of a religious community but what you’re seeing wasn’t it. It is a bonafide village, with actual houses, a town center, a watchtower and a large brick structure towards the back. In the distance, you can see a windmill slowly spinning. You chalk it up to the large number of documentaries you had watched on cults leading up to this trip that painted a picture in your mind of what this village would look like; the small, white cottages of People’s Temple immediately coming to mind. A part of you is glad you were wrong.
“So, what do you think?” Vince asks me, gesturing one of his hands towards the village, “this is where I’ve been these last two years.”
“It’s nothing like what I expected, it’s… honestly really peaceful,” you reply, looking around the village in awe.
You watch as several of the other villagers stop what they’re doing to look at you and your brother, an older woman over by a well giving both of you a warm smile before pulling a bucket of water up from the well.
“My house is over here,” Vince continues, pointing to one of the houses on the left before leading you towards it.
Vince’s house sits next to the watchtower, he opens the door and walks inside. Before you enter, you happen to turn around and look towards the large brick building in the back of the village. Standing at the door is someone wearing a black cloak with gold trim, underneath his clothes you can tell he’s wearing cargo pants and a tight fitting athletic shirt of some kind. But that’s not what grabs your attention; it’s his azure eyes locked on you, causing your blood to run cold.
“Vince,” you say, your voice trembling as you reach to grab his wrist, stopping him, “who is that over there?”
Vince turns to look where you’re looking, letting out a soft chuckle once he sees who you’re looking at, “him? That’s just Leon. He’s the right hand of our Lord Saddler. He’s probably here to check on things, don’t worry about him. Come inside.”
Vince practically pulls you, shutting and barring the door shut once you’re inside.
“Why are you blocking the door?” you ask, raising an eyebrow as your brother turns to face you.
“We tend to have an open door policy in the village. Where you and I haven’t seen each other for awhile, I figured it’d be best to have some privacy, wouldn’t you agree?”
You nod as you take in your surroundings. There’s a staircase leading upstairs and around the corner, a dining table and a kitchen area. Several candles are burning; they definitely don’t have electricity and running water in this village. Behind your brother is a worn couch.
“Is that where I’m sleeping?” you ask, pointing at the couch.
“Nope, you get the bed upstairs. I can live with the couch for a while. Nothing but the best for my little sis.”
“Thanks Vince,” you reply, grabbing your luggage, “I’ll bring this upstairs, then maybe we can talk. You know… catch up.”
You grab your luggage, dragging it up the stairs. You spot the bed at the end of the bannister next to a window overlooking the village center. As you’re staring out the window, you spot the cloaked man, Leon, again. He’s standing in the center of town, looking right at you. It sends a chill down your spine. You turn around and scream a little when your brother taps you on the shoulder.
“You ok? You weren’t answering me,” Vince says, his face full of concern.
“Sorry… it’s that guy. He’s right down there staring at the window,” you reply, turning to point out the window, however, Leon is gone, “oh, nevermind. It must have been my imagination.”
“He’s like… a guard dog of sorts. He’s probably just making sure you’re chill,” Vince explains, gently grabbing you by your upper arm and leading you back downstairs, “he’s like that with anyone he doesn’t know.”
“Right, of course…” you’re still uneasy, but decide to trust your brother.
“I’ll get started on dinner, have a seat at the table,” says Vince before walking over to the large wood stove, which is already aflame.
“Can I help with anything?” you ask, still standing by the table.
“No, I got it. Been doing this for two years. I can handle it. You’re the guest of honor, you just sit back, relax and let your brother take care of you.”
While your brother prepares dinner for the two of you, you make small talk, getting him caught up on the two years worth of stuff he missed. You told him about Mark and André, told him that your horrendous grandfather finally passed away a year ago; you had caught a smirk on Vince’s face before he turned his attention back to making dinner. Once dinner is finished, he sets both plates down at the table and the two of you dig in.
“Earlier you had said Lord Saddler,” you begin, taking a bite of food before continuing, “Vince… are you sure this isn’t a cult?”
Your brother bursts out laughing, reaching over to put his hand on yours to comfort you, “Lord Osmund Saddler is the patriarch of Los Iluminados and the speaker for the Holy Body. I’m not held here against my will. I promise you with every fiber of my being, this isn’t a cult, Sis.”
“I’m sorry I just… I may have watched a bunch of documentaries before coming here on cults and I just want what’s best for you, that’s all.”
Vince smiles, “Don’t worry, no one is going to drink any Kool Aid here.”
“Vince, that’s terrible!” you playfully smack him, “also it wasn’t even Kool Aid!”
You can’t help but laugh, slowly letting your mind be at ease. It’s clear your brother is happy and healthy here in this village. Before you can continue your conversation with Vince, you hear the chime of a church bell in the distance and you watch as your brother immediately stands up.
“What’s that all about?” you ask, slowly standing up.
“That is the sound of evening service. Come! I’d love for you to see one of Father Méndez’s services.”
Taking your hand, Vince unblocks the door and takes you outside. You see all the villages are filling into the large brick building you had seen Leon standing in front of earlier.
“That’s the meeting house, we have to pass through it to get to the church,” he explains to you as he leads you to follow the other villagers inside the building.
Upon walking in there is a large room, shelves of food and supplies lining the walls. In the back of the room was a large painting of a robed man; not Leon, but someone else, Vince notices you staring at the painting.
“That is our Lord Saddler. Hopefully you’ll get to meet him during your visit; he’s a wonderful patriarch, I think you’ll like him.”
There is something about the painting that unsettles you, but you can’t put your finger on it; nor do you have time to because before you know it, Vince is leading you into the adjacent room. This room has a large table lined with chairs on both sides. You both proceed around the table exiting out of the door on the other side with the other villagers. The door takes you out to a winding path which opens up to a cemetery with the church sitting just at the top of the hill.
You and your brother make your way up the hill, following the rest of the villagers into the church where you and your brother sit in one of the pews in the middle. There is an extremely tall man standing at the altar, wearing a black leather trench coat and a large brim hat. His dark beard has subtle white hairs, indicating to you that he’s much older than you and your brother. In fact, now that you think about it, you realize you and your brother are probably the youngest ones in the church.
Behind the imposing man is a large stained glass window decorated with red, blue, green and white. The white glass makes a pattern. You’re not sure what to make of it; it’s almost like a crude insect-like cross with four appendage-like parts extended out with a tail pointing downwards. Once everyone is seated in the pews, the man at the altar addresses the villagers.
“My brothers and sisters,” the man begins, his Hispanic accent thick, “before we begin tonight’s sermon, I wanted to welcome the visitor that Vincent has brought to visit our village.” The man gestures one of his hands towards us, “if you would do the honors, Vincent.”
Your brother stands up, “Gracias, Father Méndez. This is my younger sister,” he says before telling everyone your name, “she’ll be staying with me for a while, we haven’t seen each other since I first came here. I hope you all can join me in showing her what makes Los Iluminados a special community.”
The other villagers clap softly as Vince sits back down. After that, Father Méndez begins the service, which is in Spanish, so you strained your brain to try to pick up bits and pieces of what he’s saying. This doesn’t last long, however as your eye catches movement in the darkness in the back of the church. You feel your heart skip; it’s Leon again, his azure gaze once again locked on you. His expression is cold and emotionless, but there is no doubt in your mind that he is staring at you.
As if sensing your unease, your brother nudges you with his elbow and whispers, “what’s wrong?”
“It’s Leon again…” you reply, nodding your head in Leon’s direction.
Vince’s gaze follows yours, spotting Leon staring at you from the back of the church. Vince lets out a soft sigh.
“I’ll talk to Father Méndez after the service.”
For the rest of the service, you steal glances towards the back of the church, where Leon remains, still staring at you. At the end of the service, however, when you look back, Leon is finally gone, much to your relief.
Father Méndez’s booming voice draws your attention back to him, “¡Gloria a Las Plagas!”
“¡Gloria a Las Plagas!” the villagers, including Vince, repeat back.
Gloria a Las… Plagas? you think to yourself, glory to the… plague? Plagues? Pests? What? That makes no sense…
Before you can think it over further, your brother stands up abruptly, pulling you up with him.
“Pablo,” Vince says as he approaches another villager, “¿Puedes llevar a mi hermana de regreso a mi casa? Tengo que hablar con el padre Méndez.”
The man nods, “sí, claro.”
Vince turns his attention back to you, “Pablo here is going to take you back to my house while I talk to Father Méndez about Leon, ok? I won’t be long.”
“Alright, thanks Vince,” you reply as Pablo gently takes you by your upper arm, leading you out of the church.
You turn back, watching your brother approach Father Méndez before the church doors close behind you.
“Vincent,” Méndez begins as Vince approaches him, “what can I do for you, my brother?”
“It’s about Leon,” Vince says, crossing his arms, “I want him to leave my sister alone.”
“What do you mean? You do remember what you agreed to, no?” Méndez presses straightening his posture.
“I do remember, but he is scaring her. All he’s done since she got here is stare at her.”
“And? Are you saying you’re defying the will of Lord Saddler?”
“No, of course not!” Vince exclaims before lowering his voice, “but if we want any chance of her staying in Los Iluminados, he needs to chill out with the staring, ok? Is that too much to ask, Father?”
Méndez brings a hand to his beard, stroking it as he contemplates Vince’s request. After a few moments, he gently nods, “fine. I will speak with Lord Saddler on this.”
“Thank you, Father.”
She is perfect.
Leon stands at the end of the bed that you’re sleeping in, completely oblivious to his presence. Bringing his hands up, he lowers the hood of his cloak. The exposed skin on his neck and face are completely covered in inky black veins and seem to pulse under his skin. He gently crawls onto the bed, being careful not to wake you as he cages you with his body.
Leaning down so that his nose is nearly pressed against the side of your neck, he breathes in your scent deeply, opening his mouth slightly to lick his sharpened incisors with his tongue. He moves away from your neck, staring down at you as he watches your chest rise and fall gently as you slumber. Unable to help himself, he leans back down, his lips hovering above yours when he hears the unmistakable sound of the front door opening downstairs.
His head snaps towards the stairs, crawling off your bed with the grace and stealth of a panther. He brings his hood back up over his head, walking silently over to the open window at the head of the stairs where he had let himself in, climbing out and shutting the window carefully behind him, not leaving a single trace that he was even there.
#leon kennedy#leon s kennedy#leon kennedy x reader#plagas!leon kennedy#leon kennedy smut#dead dove do not eat#dead dove#gigabyte writes
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this post sucks lol can't we leave this bullshit in 2015. pharma companies wish they were allowed to say this. but they can't because it is demonstrably false. signed someone who was made suicidal by antidepressants (among other deleterious effects!) with zero prior history of suicidality.
#suicide mention#I wasn't even significantly depressed before being put on SSRIs and they made literally everything worse#this type of mis(dis?)information is responsible for the erroneous assumption antidepressants are ~the safe option~#over drugs that work but hold risk of ''''''abuse''''''
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Destiny & Deliverance: Chapter 27
Destiny & Deliverance Masterlist ||| Main Masterlist
Dieter Bravo X OFC
Series Summary: Natalia Cohen is experiencing major life changes, beginning with leaving an emotionally abusive husband. She is learning how to navigate life on her own while dealing with high functioning anxiety, depression, and mild PTSD. Everything is looking up for her. She is a highly respected consultant for a major LA firm, has her best friend, Lauren, by her side, and is on her path to healing. Everything changes when she meets a handsome and broken stranger on a work trip. He turns out to be a well-known actor, with a heart-breaking past. They quickly develop a connection that will forever alter their lives.
Warnings: Themes dealing with mental health, emotional trauma, alcohol use, and discussions about suicide. There will be fluff, tears, spicy language, and smut. This will be a slow burn type of story. Read at your own risk.
Chapter Warnings: Discussions about intimate partner violence, suicidal ideation, mental health struggles, drug abuse, and alcohol abuse.
Chapter Quote:
"I got to snuggle some baby goats."
It took everything in me to hold back the sob that threatened to escape the instant I heard Dieter’s voice. I momentarily placed my hand over my mouth to hold it in and compose myself. I let out a shaky breath as I tried to find my voice.
“Dieter?”
I could hear his stuttered breathing on the other end of the line. He sounded like he was battling with his emotions too.
He cleared his throat, “Yeah… it’s me.”
I sighed loudly into the phone as the tears started to slide down my face. I felt like my brain had completely shut down on me, unsure of what to say but also feeling the urge to say everything all at once. It was so overwhelming but also awkward since we had not talked in so long. There were still so many things up in the air between us.
“How’ve you been?” He asked, sounding unsure of himself. I felt like he didn’t know what to say either.
I sniffed loudly as I wiped at my face, “Umm, I’ve been ok. How are you feeling?”
“I’m feeling good. Normal, I think…then again…I’m not sure I really know what normal is,” we both laughed nervously.
“I’m feeling better than I have in a long time. I can confidently say that at least,” he added.
I smiled. It was nice to know that he was feeling better. It helped dampen some of the worry I had been feeling.
“How are things going, otherwise?”
“Well, I got to snuggle some baby goats during group therapy this morning. I kinda want one now.” He sounded unabashed about this revelation.
“Of course you do,” I said in response, shaking my head and chuckling at the thought.
“I gotta new roommate two weeks ago…Gordon is his name. He’s an interesting guy…he uhhh…” he stifled a laugh before continuing. “He said he came here because the wall outlets were talking to him. Like, full conversations. They finally stopped after he got his meds sorted out. Made me feel a little better about my issues.”
I was a little dumbfounded, “Ummm, I’m not sure if I should laugh about that or not…” Dieter snickered, “He jokes about it now, so I think it’s ok.”
It felt good to hear him laughing again. I had missed that sound more than I realized. I really missed his voice in general. He sounded different. Better, lighter almost. It was a sound I wanted to commit to memory.
“Umm…so Gabby said you didn’t take that job offer?” His nervousness had returned with that question.
“No, I turned it down.” I started rubbing at my shoulder with my free hand as I moved to sit down at the kitchen table.
“Why? It sounded like an amazing opportunity”
I sighed, now rubbing at the crease between my brows, “It was, but it’s not where I wanted to be or what I wanted to do. I would’ve had to give up too much and I don’t feel like I’m in the right headspace to do that.”
“I hope it wasn’t because of me…”
“No. I mean, I guess I can’t say no. You’re part of it…but my life is here. I can’t leave Lauren or even Gabby and Alex at this point. We’ve all gotten so close. And like I said, I’m not in the right headspace for that. I would’ve been spending a lotta time alone and I don’t wanna do that right now. It just wasn’t where I felt like I should be. I didn’t feel any kind of excitement over it at all, so I turned it down”
I suddenly felt vulnerable revealing that to him, questioning if I should have. I didn’t want him to worry about me when he needed to be focusing on himself.
“Are you sure you’re doing ok?” He asked quietly.
“Yeah, I’m fine. You don’t have to worry about me, I promise. I’m just…I-” I huffed, shaking my head. I wasn’t sure if it was ok to finish that thought. I didn’t want to make any assumptions about how he was feeling or make an ass of myself.
I heard him chuckle quietly over my flustered response, “I miss you too.”
I was instantly calmed by his words, my anxiety about where we stood easing some. I let out a shy laugh at his declaration, tears still running down my face as I sniffled out, “You do?”
“Of course, I do, so fucking much… I - I’m sorry I haven't called you. I wanted to make sure I had a clear head when I did, and then I didn’t really know what to say after everything that happened.”
I heard him inhale sharply before he spoke up again, there was a tapping noise, like he was drumming his fingers against something.
“Listen, I’ve only got a few minutes left before they cut me off for today, but the reason I called…”
He paused, clearing his throat nervously, “Umm, so I wanted to see if you would be willing to come here and do a session with my psychiatrist and me…”
“Of course, when?”
“Whenever you can. Just uhh, call my case worker and she’ll get it scheduled.”
I could hear him shuffle around before he started cursing under his breath.
“Well, I was gonna give you the number but now I can’t find it...Gabby should have it.”
I couldn’t help but to snigger at him. He was still a little bit of a hot mess, which I loved about him.
He followed up with an exasperated “sorry” about not being able to find the number before he let out a quiet laugh at himself. It felt like part of it was his nervousness too.
“I’ll text her to get it as soon as we hang up and I’ll call immediately.”
I could hear him sigh in relief before a beeping noise broke into our conversation with an automated message giving a one minute warning.
“I’ll be there tomorrow if they’ll let me…or at least as soon as they’ll let me,” I said in a rush. Suddenly feeling the pressure of our limited time. I still felt like I had so many things to say to him.
“I would like that. I…I really can’t wait to see you…”
His words trailed off, shaking slightly as he was hit with another wave of emotions.
“I can’t wait to see you either,” I replied with a quivering voice.
After a moment of silence, there was a clicking sound as the line disconnected. I held the phone against my forehead, trying to get my breathing back to normal. Once I was able to focus my thoughts, I sent a quick text to Gabby to let her know that Dieter had called and that I needed the number for his case worker. I half expected her to call me, but thankfully she didn’t. She replied back quickly with the number and that she was happy he finally reached out. She followed that message up with another asking me if I was ok and if I needed to talk about it. I appreciated her offer, but I was good for now and let her know as much. Once I finished texting with Gabby, I dialed the number for the case worker, suddenly feeling nervousness forming in the pit of my stomach.
“Sanctuary Hills, this is Sharon,” the polite, yet comforting voice answered.
“Hi Sharon, this is Natalia Cohen…” She cut in before I could continue.
“Oh, Talia, hi. I’ve been expecting your call. Dieter told me he was going to be calling you.”
I let out a nervous laugh, slightly taken aback by the familiarity in which she said my name. It made me wonder how much he had talked about me.
“I assume you’re calling about an appointment for a family session?”
I didn’t know why, but it stirred something in me when she called it a family session. Technically, I wasn’t his family, but they were treating me as if I were. I could feel the tears prickling at my eyes again as I exhaled out a breathy “yes” in response.
“That’s wonderful news, I know he’ll be overjoyed to see you.” I could hear the smile in her voice
“I can’t wait to see him either,” I replied, still trying to keep the emotions out of my words.
“Alright, let me have a look at the schedule. Dr. Rosenberg did ask that you be prepared to be available for at least a week for additional sessions, if possible.”
“Additional sessions?” I was confused. I couldn’t recall if the same thing had been asked of Gabby, which caused my anxiety to flare.
“Don’t worry, it’s perfectly normal for that to happen. It’s mostly educational sessions for family members if they’re willing to participate.”
“Oh, ok. That doesn’t sound so bad.” I laughed nervously.
“When would you like to come in?” she asked with a calming tone.
“As soon as you can get me in is preferable.” I started tapping on the table as I waited for options, listening to the clicking of a keyboard on her end.
“How about 10 AM the day after tomorrow?”
“I’ll take it,” I said a little too eagerly. The anticipation of seeing Dieter again was starting to get to me.
“I have it scheduled. In case you do end up staying for additional sessions, we have apartments on site for patient families. So, you won’t have to worry about lodging. We don’t want you stressing about that while you’re here.”
“Oh, that’s…nice. Thanks for letting me know.”
“When you arrive for your session, come in the north entrance with the blue awning and they'll get you checked in. It’s a different entrance than where you would have come in before.”
I thanked her and our conversation ended soon after that. Afterwards, I sat staring out the kitchen window, feeling the anxiousness settle into my gut. Not knowing what to expect was always the worst for me. It was like that call had started a countdown, to what, I wasn’t sure. I could only hope the end result would be something positive.
The morning of our session, I had a ridiculously early flight so that I could be there in time. I decided to keep things simple with minimal makeup, a messy bun, sunglasses, sneakers, skinny jeans, and one of Dieter’s button up dress shirts with the sleeves rolled up. I had raided his closet while I was at his house cleaning up. It was something small, but being wrapped in his scent or wearing something that belonged to him brought me some comfort during my time without him. His clothing quickly became a staple in my casual attire.
I was so anxious about seeing Dieter again that the flight didn’t faze me like it normally would have. Though it was an hour and a half, it seemed much quicker as the minutes continued to count down and the distance between us shortened. I could feel myself getting more worked up the closer I got. By the time I acquired the rental car and was on the road to the facility, my chest was heavy. Breathing was getting harder with each mile that passed.
When I pulled into the parking lot, I could feel my heart pounding in my ears. I sat gripping the steering wheel tightly in both hands and taking deep breaths. I wasn’t even sure why I was so nervous, it’s not like I knew what Dieter was planning to talk to me about. However, deep down I had a fear, though most likely irrational, that he was going to realize he didn’t really want to be with me after this. I wasn’t sure if I could handle that a second time if it were to happen. Without permission, the tears started to streak down my cheeks, and I felt like I was going to be sick.
After a few more deep breaths, I slammed my fist down on the stop of the steering wheel out of frustration, “Fucking hell, get it together Talia.”
My head dropped back onto the headrest as I squeezed my eyes shut, still taking deep controlled breaths. After several minutes passed, I let out a slow exhale before opening my eyes. Feeling more relaxed, I did a quick check in the mirror to make sure I didn’t look like a complete mess before exiting the vehicle to go inside.
I was starting to have an out of body feeling as I went through the check in process. I couldn’t really remember walking to the building or anything the lady behind the desk had just said to me as I sat down in the lobby to wait. After a few minutes, one of the receptionists called my name and led me through a secure door down a long hallway. We passed several offices that had glass inserts in the doors with shades. Most of the shades were pulled closed, however, I noticed one was open. As I approached, I glanced inside and was met with a familiar figure sitting in a high backed desk chair in the middle of the room with his head leaned back and eyes closed as he spun back and forth, his legs bouncing ever so often. He was sitting on the opposite side of a desk from a woman who was possibly in her fifties, with graying hair and a kind face. Though, she did have a slightly overwhelmed look about her as her eyes met mine through the glass.
I stopped briefly, watching him wave his hands animatedly as he talked incessantly, never raising his head or opening his eyes. I felt a small smirk sneak across my face. He was nervous too. I could tell. My eyes flicked back to the woman, who was watching me watch him with a soft smile on her face.
My attention was pulled away by the receptionist, who was now at my side waiting for me to continue following her.
“He’s been driving us all crazy this morning. I think poor Sharon is getting the worst of it. He’s beyond excited that you’re here today.”
I chuckled at the thought before continuing down the hallway. I was led into a spacious office. It was modern and white with floor to ceiling windows on one side with nothing in sight but nature. All the furnishings were earth tones of brown and deep reds and oranges. I noticed there were a lot of plants filling the space, which added a homey feeling, in a strange sort of way. It also struck me how there were different seating areas on either side of the room. One had a small couch and cushy chair positioned in front of it, while the other had four cushy chairs sitting closely together in a circle. Each of the seats were adorned with soft looking pillows in various shades matching the space. There was a traditional desk setup in the center of the room with two chairs placed in front of it. Each area felt carefully designed to meet specific needs.
Moments after entering the room, I was greeted by Dr. Rosenberg who first shook my hand, then pulled me in for a loose hug.
“Talia, it’s nice to finally meet you. I’ve heard so much about you the last couple of months.”
It took me by surprise, though I felt like it shouldn’t have. There was a certain familiarity and kindness that everyone seemed to have toward me. Everyone had been very warm and welcoming thus far. It was comforting to know this was the type of environment that Dieter had been in.
I gave her a tight lipped smile as she led me over to sit in one of the four chairs in a circle. To my surprise, the chair spun slightly as I sat in it. Dr. Rosenberg turned hers to face me directly, so I did the same with mine. I had managed to stay composed thus far, but my nervousness was starting to show as I reached up and rubbed at my shoulder. The psychiatrist was silent for a moment as she watched my movements. I stopped, sat up straight and placed both hands on top of my crossed legs to keep from fidgeting.
I’m not sure why, but I felt the need to appear like I had my shit together. I took a minute to study her as she gave me a soft smile while she continued to get settled, grabbing a notepad, file folder, pen, and glasses from the small table next to her seat. She was probably in her early fifties, maybe late forties. Her long blonde hair was pulled back into a low ponytail, and she was dressed in business casual attire. I could tell she wanted to appear professional, but not uninviting. She was also definitely looking at my body language very closely, which was making me feel antsy. My therapist used to do that, and I hated it. I mentally smacked myself over my thoughts. I was already putting up walls and we hadn’t even started talking yet.
“Well, it’s been an exciting morning around here. Dieter is definitely happy you’re here. He was asked to leave his group session this morning because he couldn't focus. He’s been bugging poor Sharon ever since.” She laughed and smiled affectionately at her words.
She was trying to get me to relax. I knew that I looked too tense. I let out a breathy laugh as I sat back further in the seat, trying to appear less uptight, but I didn't think it was working. She gave me a sympathetic look suddenly, “You’re nervous to see him.”
It wasn’t a question. Looking down at my hands, I chuckled to myself briefly before clearing my throat to speak, “Yeah, I guess I am. I just…don’t know what to expect.”
“That’s a perfectly normal feeling. It’s not unusual for family members to worry if their loved one is going to be different after treatment. Is that some of what you’re feeling?”
Her question took me by surprise, “Ummm, maybe. Sort of...maybe not so much about him being different…more about him feeling differently.”
She nodded, “I understand. I can’t say that he won’t be different. His personality may present differently, more calm, less emotional or moody. He will feel differently in that he won’t be cycling from one extreme to the other, emotionally. As far as how he feels ABOUT things, that isn’t going to change just because he’s stabilized. Does that make sense?”
I gave a tight nod, “Yeah, it does.” It didn’t do anything to ease my anxiety though because I still didn’t know how he really felt about us. She eyed me for a second before continuing.
“So, I’ll fill you in on my plan for today. First, you and I are going to chat about Dieter’s diagnosis. Once we’re done, I’m going to bring him in for the session. After that, you and I will have a follow-up meeting to discuss the path forward. Does that sound ok to you?”
“Yeah, that’s fine.” I started to chew on my bottom lip while she flipped through the file in her hand.
“Great. Just so you’re aware, Dieter signed release forms for you to have access to his medical and treatment information. Nothing is off the table, so if you have questions, ask. He made it clear to me that he wants you to know everything and wants you involved as much as you want to be.”
I paused briefly, shocked by that information. I exhaled the breath I didn’t realize I was holding, “Ok...I wasn’t expecting that.”
She smiled before continuing, “Alright, let’s get to it then?” She raised her brows at me, asking permission to proceed. I motioned with my hand to continue.
“So, he’s been formally diagnosed with mixed episode Bipolar I Disorder (BD). In simple terms, bipolar disorder is when someone experiences extreme behavioral or mood changes. The extreme highs are called manic episodes, and lows are episodes of depression. Most people with BD go through highs and lows over an extended period of time. Someone with mixed episodes, like Dieter has, tend to experience both highs and lows simultaneously or in a rapid sequence with no recovery time.”
She paused, giving me a minute to digest her words. I couldn’t say I was surprised by the diagnosis, it actually made a lot of his behavior make sense. When I didn’t speak up, she continued.
“I think what happened with Dieter…he was put on a lot of medication. Antidepressants in particular can be very tricky for someone with BD. It can cause an increased risk of mood destabilization when the antidepressants are not taken with a mood stabilizer. He was on pretty much everything but a mood stabilizer. You add that in with not sleeping, not eating, drinking, anxiety, and episode triggers…it’s a recipe for disaster. Sometimes being improperly medicated like that can trigger suicidal ideation and even psychosis. Honestly, he was fighting a losing battle.”
I leaned forward in my seat, placing my elbows on my knees while I rubbed at my face. I felt anger bubbling in my chest.
“Why didn’t his therapists or doctors catch what was happening?”
“One reason…lack of experience. BD is also incredibly hard to diagnose because it shares symptoms with so many other more common disorders like anxiety, depression, PTSD, and ADHD, which is what he was being treated for. That’s not to say he doesn’t have those things as well, but if he does, we need to take a different treatment approach.”
I sighed, shaking my head in disbelief. “Wow, that actually kind of blows my mind.”
“I know… and I’m surprised that no one thought to look into it, given his family history. It can be hereditary, and BD does have a high suicide rate. Given what happened with his mother, it should’ve been considered. Also, the fact that he experienced trauma in dealing with that incident...trauma often causes the onset of symptoms.”
I sighed heavily as the tears started to pool in my eyes, “This actually…kind of pisses me off that he had to go through all of this needlessly. He fucking hated taking that stuff because of the way it made him feel.”
“That brings me to my next topic...It's been hard to get a baseline with him. I feel like a lot of the things he was experiencing were side effects from all the medications he was on. I can’t really rely on his history before he started the medication because he was using recreational and prescription drugs and drinking heavily to self medicate, which could have been making things worse for him during that time as well.” She paused briefly to gauge my reaction, “I assume you knew about his past substance abuse issues?”
“Yeah, he’s mentioned it…What does all that mean?”
“Well, it’s hard to know exactly what his actual symptoms are right now. So, to start, I’m doing the bare minimum. I’ve started him out on a low dose mood stabilizer called divalproex sodium. It’s actually…an anticonvulsant that’s normally used to treat seizures rather than a typical mood stabilizer like lithium.”
I drew my brows down together in confusion, “Why a seizure medication?”
“That medication increases the amount of a chemical called gamma-aminobutyric acid in the brain. It works to block certain transmissions across the nerves in the brain and creates sort of an overall calming effect. That particular medication often works best for patients that have mixed or rapid cycling episodes. Lithium typically doesn’t get the job done in those instances. He seems to be doing well on it so far. We’ll give it a few more months to make sure everything else is out of his system and reevaluate.”
“So, he went from taking half the pharmacy…to one thing?”
“He did. He seems pretty set on limiting the medications as much as possible. He’s been spending a lot of his time doing cognitive behavioral therapy, interpersonal and social rhythm therapy, and psychoeducation to help him manage his symptoms and learn about triggers and that sort of thing. He’s been very invested in it, and it seems to be helping.”
I sighed, starting to feel overwhelmed, “I don’t know what all of that is. I mean, I know cognitive behavioral therapy but…” I shook my head in confusion.
“No worries, if you decide to continue with the family education sessions you’ll learn about that stuff. I know it’s a lot to take in...”
“Yeah, it is, but I’m happy that he’s hopefully on the right track now.” I took a couple of deep breaths to try and relax some as I continued to process things.
“One last thing before I bring Dieter in...I know you two were no longer together before his hospitalization and you haven’t really had a chance to work things out. His preference is to stay with you when he leaves treatment. I do want to be able to manage his expectations if that isn’t going to be the case. I don’t want you to feel like you have to allow that if you aren’t ready to take all this on. I want you to know that you can say no.”
I was taken aback at her directness, but also appreciated it. I actually felt like I was warming up to her some and feeling more comfortable with opening up to her. I didn’t hesitate with my response, if anything, I said it with conviction, looking directly into her eyes as I spoke.
“There’s no question in my mind about him coming home with me so long as he wants to. I’ve known from the start that he was struggling with his mental health, and I promised to support him through it. A new diagnosis doesn’t change anything for me. I’m all in for this.”
Dr. Rosenberg gave me a warm smile, clearly satisfied with my response. “Now I see why he says you can be a force to be reckoned with.”
My eyebrows shot up at her words as she again took me by surprise, “Dieter said that?” I chuckled at the thought as I leaned back in my seat, surprised that was the wording he chose.
“He’s said a lot of things about you, all positive, of course.” She laughed quietly to herself as she set her glasses on the table. As she stood, she announced she was going to go get him for our joint sessions.
After Dr. Rosenberg disappeared out the door, I could feel my anxiety returning. My chest was starting to tighten again as my heart beat a mile a minute. Instinctively, my right hand moved to rub at my shoulder. Was he going to be upset about how easily I gave up on us? I didn’t know how he couldn’t be. It didn’t sound like he was planning to end things for good even though that thought kept crossing my mind. It was clearly my pessimism and self-doubt seeping in. The thought of being completely open and vulnerable in this setting was making things worse too. I wasn’t a fan of having an audience, but I needed to get over that and not build up my walls right now. I propped my arm on the rest of the chair and started to rub at my forehead as my leg began to bounce. I couldn’t make myself stop the fidgeting no matter how hard I tried.
After several minutes passed, Dr. Rosenberg returned with Dieter following behind her. His head was down, clenching and unclenching his hands as he walked. As he approached me, he finally looked my way through his lashes. He gave me a small smile that widened as his eyes dropped down to my shirt, obviously noticing I was wearing one of his. I gave him a shy smile in return. He sat down in the chair directly in front of me as Dr. Rosenberg returned to her earlier spot.
It was clear he was nervous by the way he couldn’t keep his hands still and how the heel of his croc kept bouncing off the tiled floor. He would only occasionally glance in my direction as we waited for Dr. Rosenberg to get settled again. I took the opportunity to study his appearance. He looked so much better compared to the last time I had seen him. His light gray t-shirt was no longer loose looking around his fit torso. His pale skin had been replaced with a golden tan. His hair was longer and as wild as ever, framing his scruffy and patchy beard. His chocolate brown eyes looked clearer than I had ever seen them and were filled with nervousness and anticipation.
Once Dr. Rosenberg was ready to start, she filled Dieter in on what she had discussed with me about his diagnosis. She then encouraged him to take the lead going forward and discuss the things he wanted to speak with me about. He rubbed his hands together nervously, briefly chewing on his bottom lip before he met my gaze to speak.
“So, you’re…ok with that diagnosis?” He asked, raising an eyebrow. I wasn’t sure what he meant and gave him a confused look. “Like, it doesn’t freak you out or anything? I know it’s a lot to deal with.”
“Dieter, the diagnosis doesn’t change anything. You’re still you. Why would it bother me?”
“I dunno, I’m just afraid that at some point you’re gonna realize how big of a mess I am and run away from it all,” he said sheepishly.
I chuckled, leaning forward in the seat with a teasing smile, “I realized how big of a mess you were a long time ago.” He scratched at his chin as a smirk formed on his lips.
“Besides, I’m pretty sure I’ve already seen the worst of it and I’m still here. My feelings for you haven’t changed. You don’t have to worry about that from me.”
His eyes turned glassy at my words as he pinched his brows together, looking downward at his hands in his lap.
“I don’t deserve you, not after the way I treated you…the things I said. I was such an asshole to you.”
I bit at my bottom lip, shaking my head before speaking, “None of that matters to me. I know you weren’t completely yourself when you said those things.”
“No, I wasn’t but I still knew what I was doing and saying. I apparently tend to self-sabotage things. Some of the things I said, using your past against you, I knew it would hurt you. I wanted the words to hurt so you would let me go. I knew you wouldn’t otherwise.”
“Why though? I don’t understand why you felt the need to end things to begin with. Why was I a burden to you?”
His eyes widened at my question, brows shooting upward as he shook his head from side to side, “No, no you weren’t the burden…I was. I’m sorry I made you think that. I know the night I called, I wasn’t making a lot of sense. I…I hadn’t slept in days, and I was such a fucking mess.”
He licked his bottom lip and chewed at it for a second before continuing, “I could see how you were having to completely change everything about your life to accommodate me and my work just for us to be together. I knew it was eventually gonna be a problem and cause you stress because it was affecting your job. I didn’t wanna ruin your life that way. You shouldn’t have to cater your life to mine, it’s not fair. I love you too much to do that to you.”
“Dieter, it wasn’t always gonna be like that. It just happened to be shitty circumstances caused by the remote location. If we hadn't been in the middle of nowhere, I could’ve worked without issue. We just weren’t prepared for the challenges that came up. This is a learning experience for both of us. We’ll know better for next time so I can plan accordingly…and it wasn’t like you weren’t making changes to meet me halfway.”
He couldn’t argue with that. He sighed as he leaned back in his seat, nodding in agreement.
“I know that now, I wasn’t exactly thinking clearly…obviously. It all made sense at the time.” He rolled his eyes, frustrated with his behavior. He took a deep breath before continuing.
“It was more than that though, I knew I was spiraling out of control. I could fucking feel it happening and didn’t know how to make it stop. I didn’t wanna tell you what was going on because I didn’t want you to worry. I knew you would drop everything and fly back to Canada to be with me.”
“You’re damn right I would’ve… and I should’ve done that anyway.” I could feel my emotions catching up to me, my eyes filling with tears as I looked down away from him.
“I fucking knew it…in my gut that something was wrong, and I did nothing. If I had just done it…came up there anyway, this probably would’ve gone differently. I could’ve helped you through it, but no…I was a fucking coward. I gave up because I was selfish and wanted to protect myself. I didn’t even try because I was too afraid that I would end up in a dark place again if you didn’t want me to be there with you.”
The tears were streaking down my cheeks by this point. I couldn’t hold them back anymore. I had so much anger for myself that it was making me feel sick. Dieter stood from his seat, closing the few feet between us, then got down on his knees on the floor in front of me. He moved to grab my hands in my lap, but hesitated. I reached up and grabbed his in response.
“I’m sorry I put you in the position to even have to think that. It should’ve never happened. I should’ve been communicating everything with you instead of pushing you away. This whole fucking mess is my fault…I wanted to reach out so many times after that… to try and fix it, but you seemed like you were doing ok so I didn’t want to upset you again.”
The tears were streaming down his face now as he took a minute to try and compose himself.
“I thought I could move on and just deal with things the way I used to…by numbing the pain. That’s when I started drinking heavily again. Then I saw you at the restaurant, and you looked so fucking amazing…and I was such a dick. I was so angry with myself for that. I couldn’t stop thinking about how I had everything and fucked it up. My behavior after that night was reckless. There are days I can’t even remember because I was drinking so much. I just wanted to not think about it anymore.”
He pulled his hands away, looking down at the floor before wiping at his face. When he raised his head again, the pain in his eyes nearly made my heart stop. I reached out to cup his cheek, but he leaned away, seeming to need space.
“The night that video of you was posted online…several people sent it to me. I didn’t watch it at first because I didn’t think it would mean anything…but when I finally did…”
He put his hand over his mouth, letting out a quiet sob, before continuing.
“I could see how bad you were hurting…how bad I hurt you. What I did to you…I hated myself for it because you didn’t deserve that. It also reminded me of what I was missing out on because of how beautiful you sounded and looked…and that fucking song.”
He paused for a minute, shaking his head. He sniffled and wiped at his face again before continuing.
“I stayed up all night, watching it on a loop on the tv. I almost called you then, but stopped myself. I drank until I had nothing left instead. Then, when I ran into you the next morning, I could see how fucking broken you were. The way you looked at me…it fucking crushed me. I bought more alcohol and went back to the house. I don’t really remember much after that.”
He shook his head for a moment, pausing to take a few deep breaths, wiping at his face again.
“I don’t even remember calling you…and…even after everything I did, you still came to me. You could’ve easily told me to fuck off and I would’ve deserved it, but you didn’t. I know I wouldn’t be here right now if you hadn’t. You saved my life…I feel like you’ve been doing that ever since New York. When I say you’re my light in the darkness, I fucking mean it.”
I started sobbing into my hands. I couldn’t hold it back anymore. I felt his fingers wrap around my wrist, pulling my hands around his neck as he moved to hug me. We sat there in an embrace for some time before I started mumbling into his shoulder.
“I was so afraid you were gonna hate me for giving up on you so easily. I’m sorry I didn’t try harder. Just know that it had nothing to do with you…I clearly still need to work on my own shit.”
He hugged me a little tighter as he buried his fingers in the back of my hair, “That thought never crossed my mind. Don’t even worry about it anymore.”
He finally pulled back, wiping the tears away from my cheeks with his thumbs as he did so. We gave each other tight smiles as we locked eyes. He turned away, toward Dr. Rosenberg, who I had completely forgotten was in the room, and asked for some tissues. She picked up the box from her small table and handed it to him as he stood. He handed me several and took some for himself before handing the box back to her. She motioned for him to have a seat. As she turned to set the box back on the table, I noticed she was looking a little glassy eyed too.
We all sat in silence as her eyes shifted between us. Dieter and I glanced at each other, confusion on our faces as we looked back toward her. She chuckled before she spoke.
“I’m not even sure why I’m here. This is literally the first family session ever where I didn’t have to intervene or lead a conversation. You two don’t seem to have any problems communicating, so I’m not sure how you ended up where you were.”
We both smiled widely at her, surprised and appreciative of her honesty. Dieter spoke up with a chuckle.
“I think between my fucked up brain and the distance…it didn’t do us any favors. We’re always at our best when we’re physically together, I think. Everything goes to hell when we aren’t. Clearly that is something I need to work on.”
Dr. Rosenberg nodded in agreement, “Well, I hate to separate you two again, but we are running short on time, and I want to have a chat with Talia about the plans going forward. Dieter, I’m pretty sure you have another group session coming up so you better head that way. You think you can focus enough for this one?”
She raised an eyebrow in his direction as he laughed and nodded. He stood, quickly shuffling over to lean down and give me a hug before exiting the room.
Dr. Rosenberg wasted no time getting back to business, “Talia, part of his treatment is making sure he has the support he needs when he gets home. That’s why we offer support to caretakers as well, because technically, you will be his caretaker as the only other person in the household with him.”
I knitted my brows together, confused about where this conversation was going.
“I’m not going to pretend that I don’t know you have a traumatic history because Dieter has mentioned a few things. I don’t know the details, and I get the sense he doesn’t know it all either. I feel like whatever happened with your ex-husband is still affecting you. Is the dark place you mentioned something that you would be willing to talk to me about? Anything you tell me about yourself is confidential, just so you know.”
I sighed heavily as I ran both hands over my face, “So you picked up on that, huh?” I laughed nervously under her gaze.
“You’re right, I haven’t told him everything. I keep telling myself I’ve moved past it, but after the last few months, I’ve realized that I just locked it away and pretended it didn’t exist. I tend to do that with a lot of things.”
She gave me an encouraging smile, clearly picking up on my hesitation as I paused to gather my thoughts.
“So, the last few years of my marriage, I started drinking heavily after finding no way out of the hell I was living in. The constant mental and psychological abuse was wearing me down, especially after I realized what was happening. When I tried to talk to Justin about a divorce, he would just tell me there was no way out because he wasn’t ready to give me up.”
I paused briefly… focusing on something outside through the window.
“I uhh, came home early from work one day and found him with another woman that he worked with. He of course said it was my fault, because I wasn’t giving him what he needed in the marriage. I knew what he was doing…and I was determined not to let it go because I felt I had a legitimate reason to end things at that point. I TOLD him I was leaving. I was done asking. When I started packing a bag, he hit me. The first time ever. I mean, he had shoved me around some, but never hit me across the face like that. He told me there was no leaving… that he would just find me and bring me home. Said no one would believe me or help because all of OUR friends knew how I was.”
“Talia, what did saying that out loud just now make you feel?”
My eyes drifted over to meet hers, “I don’t really feel anything.”
She arched a brow, “That’s because you're dissociating. I want you to focus on me as you speak and feel what you’re saying.”
Fuck. She wasn’t going to let me cheat my way through this like my therapist did. I pinched my brows together as my eyes teared up again. I had to face this. I closed my eyes briefly, exhaling slowly. When I opened them and met her gaze, she nodded for me to continue.
“He wasn’t wrong. I didn’t really have anyone to turn to. He made sure of that. He left after our argument, said he was going out with the guys. I doubt that’s where he went though. As soon as he left, I started drinking. I remember…feeling lost and pretty fucking hopeless after that. I couldn’t believe he hit me, and I was scared it would happen again. I never saw myself as someone who lets their husband abuse them…I felt disgusted over it. I must have drank a lot…because I can’t remember the rest of that night. I - I woke up in the hospital with alcohol poisoning. I guess when he came home, he found me passed out in my own vomit.”
I started tapping on the arm of the chair as the tightness in my chest returned. The tears trickled out again.
“When Justin finally came to see me, I told him that I was done. If he didn’t let me go, I was gonna find a way out…one way or another and I would make sure everyone knew it was his fault. Given that I had just put myself in the hospital, he took me at my word and agreed on a divorce. I guess he was afraid of what I would do.”
“What did you mean by that?”
I gave a half smile, “I honestly don’t know. I wonder that myself…what I was capable of. If I could’ve done anything.”
“What happened after you both agreed to the divorce?”
“Well, when I was still in the hospital, I reached out to one of my best friends that I grew up with, Lauren. We had kept in touch, even though I actively worked to put up a wall between us so she wouldn’t know what was really going on in my life because I was so embarrassed over it. She didn’t hesitate…she was at the hospital within the hour, and I told her everything. I stayed with her for a few weeks until I got my life sorted out. I don’t think I would have been able to do it without her. Of course, Justin continued to torment me by dragging out the divorce for over a year. It got pretty nasty.”
“What effects do you feel like that experience had on you?” She asked quietly.
“Experience.” I chuckled. “I didn’t realize twelve years of hell could be considered an experience.”
She gave me a sympathetic look before I continued, “I mean, I lost myself. I didn’t know who I was. I was who he wanted me to be. After I left him, he was still in my head with everything I did. What I was wearing, how I fixed my hair and makeup, things I said. I couldn’t do some of the simplest things without hearing his voice telling me I was doing something wrong and having a fucking panic attack over it. I couldn’t make decisions…and yes, I would still drink to numb my feelings and calm myself down. Only this time, I knew exactly how much I could drink without taking it too far.”
“Are those things still an issue for you now?”
I shook my head, “No, I mean, I did all the cognitive behavioral therapy and the sessions. I eventually got to a point where the negative thoughts stopped. I think Dieter had a lot to do with that…he kind of helped me see myself in a different light…but I do still have anxiety sometimes and I think I’ve reverted back to ignoring my feelings… compartmentalizing everything and pretending it’s not there. Throwing myself into work and staying busy to keep my mind occupied. I’ve been doing that instead of drinking the feelings away.”
Dr. Rosenberg leaned forward, placing her elbow on her knee with a pensive look on her face.
“Talia…would you be willing to stay for the next three weeks to work through some of this with me? It would be outpatient treatment…a couple hours a day. You can stay in one of our apartments.”
I sucked in a quick breath. I certainly wasn’t expecting this, but at the same time, I almost felt relieved. My gut told me I needed it and I knew I couldn’t go on the way I had been because I was eventually going to self-destruct if I didn’t take better care of myself. I knew I couldn’t fully be there for Dieter if I was still battling with myself. I sat staring at my hands as I thought through the offer. I could still work remotely, so that wouldn’t be an issue. I raised my head to meet her eyes, “Will Dieter know what I’m doing?”
“Only if you want him to.”
“I don’t want to saddle him with my shit right now…I don’t wanna mess him up.”
“Honestly, I think he’s stable at this point. I think he could handle whatever you wanted to share with him. If you wanted, we could even do some more joint sessions, or he can just be there for support if you want him to be. It’s all up to you really.”
“What would you do?” I asked, letting out a stuttered breath with my question. She took a minute to consider her response, biting on the inside of her cheek as she did so.
“I don’t think it would be bad if you shared everything with him. The more open you are with one another, the better. Communication is going to be a huge factor in keeping your relationship healthy and happy. At least if he knows what’s going on he can support you, just like you support him. Also, if he needs help processing through things, we can help him with that while he’s here…but again, it’s your decision.”
“Yeah, I mean he knows most of it anyway…Alright, I’ll do it. I’ll stay and I want him involved.”
She gave me a bright smile, “I’m actually really happy to hear that. I think this will allow you to build a solid foundation going forward. I’m excited for your future together. I can tell that you both care deeply for each other and I really want your time here to be successful.”
I gave her thanks for the opportunity she was giving me. I’ve known for a while that I had things that I needed to work on but didn't really know where to start. The fact that Dieter seemed so at ease with her and was doing so well gave me some comfort and the courage to jump in head first.
The next three weeks were a whirlwind of educational sessions to help me learn about bipolar disorder; the triggers, coping strategies, and lifestyle changes to minimize stress. I even had an opportunity to learn more about Dieter’s medication and possible interactions and side effects so I would be able to spot them. He had asked that I be involved with his Interpersonal and Social Rhythm therapy, which was designed to help him build a daily routine of healthy habits to manage his moods. Given his job, sometimes a routine was almost impossible for him to keep, but we learned strategies to deal with that when confronted with it. It was all very helpful for the both of us.
I had my sessions too of course. He sometimes set in on them if we were doing something particularly hard that day. His presence helped keep me grounded and got me through a lot. He was taking time to learn about ways to help me cope better and we worked together on effective communication skills.
Dr. Rosenberg recommended that I start keeping a journal to help me work through my emotions. I was iffy about it at first, but Dieter was also doing it and he loved it. He was very encouraging about it. It was something that I had come to enjoy doing after a few days. We had even taken to having a shared journal between us to better communicate our feelings, which Dr. Rosenberg loved the idea of and encouraged.
Even though Dieter and I weren’t able to spend a whole lot of time together during those three weeks, I could always feel his presence and support. It’s what kept me going through it all. I don’t think I would have had the strength to do it without him. By the time my last day of treatment came around, he was given the all clear for discharge. It was both nerve wracking and exciting to know that we would be going home…together.
A/N: How excited are we that these two are finally back together? How badly did this chapter hit the feels? Did you cry? If you did, hopefully this will be the last time...unless you are a happy crier. There may be happy tears later. 😉
How are we feeling about Dieter's diagnosis? Does it change how you view some of his past behavior? What about that revelation from Talia? I mean, are we really surprised though; the girl has had a complicated relationship with alcohol throughout the whole story.
How do you think things are going to go when they get back home? Do you think they will pick up where they left off or have some growing pains? We will find out in the next chapter. 😁
I am 100% failing at life and did not get the Deconstructing Dieter Bravo post done. I need to do a little fact checking and didn't have the brain power for it. However, once I get that ready, it will be posted HERE. The topic for Deconstructing Dieter Bravo Part 3 will be his diagnosis. I will tag all the usuals in the posts once it is ready. Hopefully you will find it to be educational. 💜
👉 I do want to share some details on upcoming projects that will be released for the holidays. I am participating in the @pedrostories Secret Santa event. I have received my gift prompt, and you may be excited to know that you will be getting a Dieter Bravo one shot from me by Christmas. I already have some ideas swirling around for it and it's not related to any current fics. It should be fun. Be sure to follow the #pedrostoriesgift23 hashtag to check out all the awesome work that will be included for the event.
👉 I will also be participating in the Pickled Peña event for the new year. I am going to try my hand at writing a little Javi P. for you. Follow @pickled-pena for updates and the hashtag #pickledpeña to see all madness (and I'm sure debauchery) that comes from this fun challenge. I also invite you all to join us! There is still time! It's going to be a blast!
If you would like to be tagged on either of these one shots, let me know in the comments. 💜
As usual, I have included the chapter mood board below in case you missed it.😘
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Errand
Request: JJ x maybank!sister, where Luke makes her get his drugs leading to something happening to her?
JJ Maybank x sister!reader
Summary: Luke makes Y/N run an errand for him resulting in a terrifying experience.
Warnings: drugs, creepy/disgusting old guys, sexual assault, physical abuse, barry being kinda decent?, overprotective jj (as he should be), physical fights
a/n: thank you for the request! please, please, do NOT read if this could trigger you. this is a long fic, but the assault part is pretty short and no clothes come off. hope you all enjoy!
(gif not mine)
Y/N is in her room and painting her nails. JJ isn't home and Luke is passed out on the couch. Y/N knows that JJ doesn't like her home with Luke when he's not there and before he left for work, he told her to leave and go to the chateau or something. But she didn't listen, insisting to herself that she'd be fine as long as Luke stayed asleep and she didn't leave her room.
That plan is ruined when her bedroom door swings open, slamming into the wall, making her jump. She curls up at the sight of her father drunkenly stumbling in. She watches him thumb through some cash before tossing a few bills onto her bed.
"Wh-- what's that for?" Y/N asks.
"I need you to go and get me a refill." Luke says.
"Refill?" Y/N asks.
"My fucking drugs, you idiot." Luke says.
"What? N-no. No, I'm not gonna get you your drugs." Y/N argues.
She whimpers when Luke tightly grips onto her hair, pulling at her scalp, forcing her to look up at him.
"You're gonna do whatever the fuck I tell you to, you little bitch. I'm in no condition to drive -- or take that long of a walk. You really want your dad risking his life?" Luke asks.
"You want your fourteen year old daughter risking hers?" Y/N shoots back. Luke's grip on her hair tightens and his glare gets harder.
"Just fucking go get my supply before I teach you a lesson. Understood?" Luke quietly asks, his voice sending shivers up Y/N's spine. She only glares at him in response. Luke lets go of her hair and backhands her across the face, her head snapping to the side.
Luke tightly grips her jaw, forcing her to look at him.
"I said, understood?" Luke asks.
"Yes." Y/N sneers. Luke harshly lets go of her jaw.
"Be back by two hours." Luke orders, stumbling out of the room.
Y/N sniffles, taking a deep breath to keep herself from crying. She rolls her eyes and slips her shoes on before grabbing the money and leaving.
- - -
Y/N walks up to the trailer that she's only a little familiar to her. She's never been inside, but Luke did often stop by after picking her up from school when she was little and she'd sit in the truck for hours until he came out, high as a kite. After almost getting into a car crash one day, Y/N stopped getting in the car with her dad whenever possible and JJ just walked her home from school.
Y/N knocks on the door, anxiously shuffling on her feet.
"It's open!" A voice calls from inside. Y/N hesitates for a moment before answering the door. She steps into the dirty, smelly trailer, hiding her grimace of disgust. Old food is everywhere, empty bottles of all sorts of alcohol lying about.
She looks over at the small table in the "living room" where two men, probably around her dad's age, are sitting and working on drugs.
"What can I do for you, pretty lady?" One of the men ask, smirking as he glances her up and down.
"I-- I'm looking for-- for Barry." Y/N says. She crosses her arms over her chest, trying to shield herself from his gaze.
"Barry's out running a few errands. We're in charge until then." The guy says.
"So... what can we do for you?" The second guy asks. "I'm Robby. That's David."
"Right. Uh, I-- I need some drugs." Y/N says.
"All right. How much? What kind?" David asks, standing up.
"I-- whatever Luke Maybank usually gets. Or what-- what he asked for." Y/N says.
"Ah, Luke Maybank. Frequent customer." Robby chuckles. "Couple pounds of coke." He holds a bag of white powder up.
"$200." David orders.
"I... I only have $100. That-- that's all he gave me." Y/n says.
"Ooh. Bummer." David tsks. "Get the other 100 and then come back, I guess. Bet going home without the goodies will be fun for you. You'll be more black and blue than ever." David laughs, Robby laughing along.
"Look, can I-- can I just pay half now and the rest later or something?" Y/N asks.
"No, sweetheart. Not how this shit works." David says. "Though, I... I do have a few ideas on how you can make up for the other half. A different sort of payment."
"What?" Y/N asks.
She watches David's smirk grow and he glances at Robby who also smiles. It takes a moment for Y/N to catch on, but when she does, she's running for the door.
"Ah, ah, ah!" David easily wraps one of his arms around her waist, yanking her away from the door.
"No!" She struggles against his hold as he lifts her up. Robby grabs her legs to prevent her from kicking. "No!"
"Oh, don't fight it, pretty girl. It can go over quickly. Long as you're not a bitch the whole time." David laughs.
"No! No! Let go of me!" Y/N screams, trying to fight against them. "Let go of me!"
"If you say so, princess." David tosses her onto the bed. Y/N tries to get off the bed, but David grabs her ankle, yanking her back. She struggles against him and he straddles her, pinning her arms down.
"Get something to tie her with." David orders and Robby starts to rummage around, looking for stuff. "Now... if you're a good girl, I'll give you the coke. But if you're bad, I'm just gonna keep you here longer, sweetheart."
"Please, let me go." Y/N sobs. "I-- I'm fourteen. I'm fourteen."
"That's okay. I like the younger ones. Less experience makes it more fun for me." David grins. Y/N lets out another sob, struggling against him, but he's too strong for her.
"Got some rope. And here's a rag." Robby stuffs the rag into Y/N mouth, muffling her cries and protests.
"Perfect." David grins. He gets up just enough to flip Y/N onto her stomach. He grabs a fistful of her hair and yanks her head back. "I like doggy style. So you're gonna be nice and do as I say."
Robby grabs her arm, though she struggles against him, hitting him away.
"Hey, hey, hey." David smacks her on the head. "The more you resist, the longer we'll be here. The longer I'll take. So you wanna be a little brat or be nice?"
Y/N pants, not fighting when Robby grabs her arm again, tying it to the bedpost.
"Good girl." David smirks. Robby rounds the bed, tying her other wrist to the bed. "Now, for the fun." David scoots down, forcing Y/N to get on her knees, her head lying sideways on the mattress. David gropes her ass making her quietly sob more. His hands roam her body, squeezing her boobs.
"Now... for the real fun." David grins.
David and Robby turn when they hear the door open and Barry steps in. He stops, seeing the positions.
"My apologies, fellas." Barry chuckles. "Who we got here?"
"A real cutie." David grins. He grips Y/N's hair, forcing her head back. Barry stares at her for a few moments before recognizing her.
"Hey, ain't the Maybank's little one?" Barry asks.
"Oh, yeah. On the drug run for her daddy. He must've known we needed a stress reliever." David chuckles.
"No, no, no, let her go." Barry orders.
"What? Barry, come on, man." Robby protests.
"No. Nah, man, she's a minor. We don't need the cops on our ass for raping anybody, much less a minor. I draw the line at fucking pedophilia, bro." Barry says.
"Barry--"
"No. No, I'm not gonna have the cops on my ass cause of you two idiots." Barry says. "Let her go."
David rolls his eyes, but climbs off the bed. Robby reluctantly unties Y/N, yanking the rag out of her mouth. Y/N coughs and gasps, trying to catch her breath.
"I-I need-- I don't have 200." She tells Barry.
"What your old man asked for only costs 100." Barry says.
Y/N looks at him in confusion before looking back at the older two who are both grinning and quietly laughing. Y/N sniffles, trying to not cry anymore. She shakily holds out the money to Barry who takes it and gives her the drugs.
Y/N makes an instant run for the door, racing out of the trailer.
- - -
Y/N gets home, rushing in, not wanting her dad to see her tears. She passes JJ who is in the kitchen.
"Y/N?" He asks, frowning when he sees her tear streaked face as she charges past him. "Hey." He calls, following her.
Y/N tosses the drugs to Luke who is sitting on the couch with a beer.
"Hey! Don't throw shit!" Luke scolds.
"There's your fucking coke!" She croaks out, her voice cracking. She storms to her room.
"You made her get your drugs?" JJ asks, looking at his dad.
"Don't yell or swear at me, you little brat!" Luke sneers, standing up.
Y/N turns, placing her hand on her door, and glaring at her father.
"Fuck you!" She screams, slamming her door shut.
"Y/N." JJ's eyes widen in fear.
"That's it, you bitch!" Luke shouts, charging towards her door.
"Hey, hey, no. No, no, no! Dad! Dad, stop!" JJ gets in the middle, blocking his father from his little sister's room.
"I'm gonna teach that brat a lesson!" Luke shouts, making sure Y/N hears her. "Remind her why she's such a worthless piece of shit! Why her mother abandoned her!"
"Dad, stop!" JJ shouts, only to earn a fist to his eye. JJ stumbles to the side, wincing in pain. Luke storms for his daughter's room, slamming the door open.
"You little--" Luke charges at Y/N who backs up into the corner of her room, realizing how stupid her decision was. Before he can reach her, JJ jumps him from behind, dragging him away from the girl.
"Run, Y/N!" JJ shouts, the girl standing there in fear. "Run!" He screams making Y/N snap out of her state of shock and she dodges Luke's hand as she runs out of the room.
JJ slams Luke's head against the wall, kicking him to the floor, knowing he'll pay for it next time he sees him. JJ runs out of the room, shutting the door behind him, and then he runs outside where Y/N is.
"Come on." JJ grabs her hand, dragging her over to his motorcycle. He gets on and she quickly follows.
"I'm gonna kill both of you!" Luke shouts, walking out of the house. He manages to get over and grips onto Y/N's arm making her shriek.
JJ uses the helmet and hits Luke over the head with it making him stumble back. He puts the helmet on Y/N's head and then starts the motorcycle, revving the engine. Before Luke can grab at them again, JJ speeds off.
JJ drives until he's at the chateau. The Twinkie isn't there, letting the siblings know that John B isn't home. Y/N immediately gets off the bike, taking the helmet off, and tossing it onto the ground.
"Y/N!" JJ calls, doing his best to put the stand down quickly as she marches towards the chateau. "Y/N!" He calls, running after her.
"Leave me alone." She hiccups.
"Hey, come on. Tell me what happened." JJ says, following her inside.
"I don't want to." She sniffles.
"Come on, munchkin. Tell me. I can help."
"No, you can't! Just leave me alone!" Y/N shouts, slamming the door to the bedroom shut. JJ flinches at the slam of the door and he hears Y/N start to sob from inside the room.
"Y/N?" He softly calls, gently knocking on the door. "Come on. Please, let me come in."
"Leave me alone." She cries out.
JJ quietly sighs, his hand hovering over the doorknob. He grips the doorknob, but just as he goes to turn it, he pulls his hand away. He knows Y/N needs time alone sometimes after something bad happens. And while he hates it, he knows pushing her to accept his comfort or talk about it will only push her away.
"I'll just... I'll be on the porch." JJ tells her, keeping his voice soft. "Okay?" He calls, hoping to get a response. He doesn't get one.
JJ sighs, running his hands through his hair, as he makes his way to the screened porch, immediately lighting a joint.
- - -
JJ is still sitting on the porch and on his third joint. His leg bounces up and down anxiously as his thoughts don't stray from his sister. He's finally broken out of his thoughts when he hears the screen door creak open and looks up to see his sister walk out.
Her eyes are red and puffy, tear stains on her cheeks, and her nose is red. A broken look rests in her eyes, one JJ is more familiar with seeing than he'd like to be.
"Hey." He softly greets. He offers his best comforting smile and puts the joint out. Y/N walks over and sits next to him on the couch, keeping a little distance between them.
They sit in silence for a little while, JJ not sure how to start talking about anything.
"Can you... can you tell me what happened?" JJ gently questions. Y/N tenses up making JJ's heart clench. "Please, munchkin. I-- if you can't go into detail, that's okay, but... but a brief summary, maybe? Tell me who I have to beat up."
"I... I didn't listen earlier. When you told me to leave." Y/N quietly says. "I stayed home. I-I figured if he was asleep and I didn't make myself known, then I... then I'd be fine." She says, keeping her gaze on a loose thread of the couch she's messing with.
"But he... he came in and-and he made me go and get his drugs for him." Y/N sniffles, tears springing to her eyes as her mind goes back to her time in the trailer.
"And I... I know he usually gets the stuff from Barry, but Barry wasn't there when I got there. Just... just two guys around dad's age and they were working on the drugs or... or whatever you call making drugs."
"They... they said that what dad buys was $200, but I... I only had $100. So... so I tried to pay half and then promise to come back later with the other half. However I would get that. I don't know. But supposedly, possibly I guess, you can't do that."
"So, they... they thought of another way for me to make up for the missing 100." Y/N says, wiping her eyes as tears start to fall again. She sniffles, glancing up at JJ, practically seeing the wheels turn in his head.
After a moment, his eyes widen, and his heart drops as he feels sick to his stomach.
"No." He whispers, shaking his head, anger swimming in his teary eyes.
"They... they dragged me to the bed. And... and said the more I struggled, the longer I'd be there. And I... I didn't want to be there for very long." Y/N hiccups. "So, I... I let them tie me down and-and stuff a rag in my mouth. I... I just let them do it. They were bigger and stronger and I... I couldn't handle them, I couldn't do it. I just wanted it to be over."
"Before he could... before he did anything more than, uh... more than grope, the-the door opened and it was Barry. He made them let me go. He-- he knows I'm still a kid and he didn't want the cops on his ass for raping a minor. Assaulting a minor is already bad enough. So is doing that to a grown woman, but I guess a kid makes it more complicated or something. He doesn't need his business going down the drain and ending up in jail or-or whatever."
JJ's jaw clenches and his hands curl into fists, trying to fight every bone in his body to punch something right now.
"And the drugs even only costed $100. They just... they just wanted an excuse to do that." Y/N says quietly.
"What were their names?" JJ asks.
"Wh-why?" Y/N asks.
"Just give me their names." JJ orders.
"I... uh... they, um... Ro-Robby and... and D-David. David did-- did everything but-but tie me." Y/N says.
"I'm gonna fucking kill them." JJ practically growls, shooting to his feet and heading for the door.
"No. No, no. No, JJ, please!" Y/N calls out. "Please don't go. Don't leave me." She sobs. The pain in her voice is enough to make JJ stop. It both breaks his heart more and fuels his anger.
He huffs, knowing she's more important, and he contains his anger. Looking back at her broken state, all the anger leaves his system, replaced with heartbreak and sympathy.
"I'm not goin' anywhere." He assures, walking back over. He sits next to her, holding an arm out. "C'mere, kiddo." He pulls her closer, wrapping his arms around her in a protective hold. Y/N sobs into his shoulder, gripping onto his shirt as tightly as she can, her body racking with her cries.
JJ tightens his grip, pushing his own tears back as he does his best to comfort her.
"I got you." He assures, placing a hand on her head. "I got you. I'm right here. I'm here." JJ places a soft kiss to her head, smoothing some of her hair down. "I got you, munchkin." He whispers.
- - -
Y/N managed to cry herself to sleep eventually. JJ left her on the couch, lying her down and covering her up with a blanket. He sits in the arm chair by the couch, watching her sleep, the anger radiating through his body.
He looks back when he hears a car and watches the Twinkie pull up. He spots John B driving and Pope is in the passenger seat. JJ gets up, storming off the porch, marching towards the Twinkie.
"Gimme the keys." JJ orders his best friend.
"What? Why?" John B asks.
"Just give me the fucking keys, man." JJ demands, holding his hand out.
"JJ, what's up?" Pope asks, concern in his voice.
"Some shitheads assaulted Y/N -- sexually. I'm gonna go fucking kill them." JJ declares.
"Wait, what?" John B asks.
"Is she okay?" Pope asks.
"Of course she's not fucking okay, Pope!" JJ yells. "Would you be okay?"
"Hey, we care about her too. I just-- it was a question." Pope says.
"Okay, well, look, you're not going alone." John B argues.
"The hell I'm not." JJ glares at him.
"No. No, man, you go alone, you're probably not coming back. Especially if this was some kook--"
"It was two cokeheads. Two pieces of shit that have nothing better to do than torture a little girl. So, personally, I don't really give a shit what the consequences are." JJ says.
"Yeah, well, I bet you she does." John B says, nodding to the chateau where he knows Y/N probably is. "You're the most stable person in her life, J."
"Well, that's a scary thought." The blonde scoffs.
"She can't lose you. So I'm going with you. To help you and to make sure you don't get yourself killed. Either that or you're fucking walking." John B says.
"Fine." JJ relents. "But you." He points at Pope. "You're staying back with her. I don't want her alone."
"Okay." Pope nods.
"Plus, your fighting skills suck, mathlete." JJ says making Pope roll his eyes. JJ holds his hand out for the keys.
"Fuck no. You're too pissed to drive." John B says, getting in the driver's seat.
"Whatever." JJ grumbles, getting in the passenger seat. "Just go as fast as you can."
"No doubt." John B says, starting the car and speeding off.
- - -
John B pulls up to the trailer park and stops outside the trailer JJ tells him to. JJ is out of the car before John B is even able to put it in park. JJ storms up to the trailer and slams the door open.
"Whoa! Hey, man!" Barry exclaims.
"You two David and Robby?" JJ asks, nodding to the two older men around his dad's age.
"Who's askin'?" Robby asks.
"Which one's David?" JJ asks.
"Sorry, bro. I don't swing that way." David laughs. JJ gives him a sarcastic smile before punching him.
"Whoa!" Barry exclaims.
"Holy, shit!" Robby shouts. John B rushes into the trailer, watching JJ grab David's shirt and slam him against the wall.
"Dude, hey. Hey, kid! Relax!" David says.
"Yeah, kid. I'm a fucking kid! You know who else is a fucking kid?! My baby sister!" JJ shouts.
"Oh, shit." Barry mutters.
Robby tries to pull JJ off of David, but John B grabs him and punches him. He knees Robby in the stomach, shoving him to the ground.
"Look, we can talk about this--" David tries.
"Talk about this?!" JJ shouts, slamming David against the wall. "Talk about you trying to rape a fourteen year old girl? Talk about that, huh? Yeah, do you know how fucking sick that is? Assault is bad enough, but you gotta go after a kid who is barely out of middle school?"
"Well, hey, it's not my fault they're tighter at that age." David smirks.
JJ immediately punches David, the force sending David to double over, groaning in pain. JJ repeatedly hits and kicks at the older man, not stopping for anything.
"JJ." John B calls after a while when he notices David half-unconscious. "JJ. JJ!" He calls, but the blonde doesn't listen to him.
"Hey, hey, hey!" John B rushes over, trying to pull his friend away.
"Get off me!" JJ shouts.
"She wouldn't want you in jail, dude!" John B shouts. "Y/N needs you!"
His words finally manage to get through to JJ making the blonde stop. He breathes heavily, trying to catch his breath. JJ balls David's shirt in his hands, yanking him up, glaring at the older man's bloody appearance.
"One of you lowlifes ever talk to my sister, ever touch her -- ever even fucking think of or mention her again -- it will be the last fucking thing you ever do, I swear to God." JJ sneers. "Stay away from kids, you sick fuck."
JJ spits in his face before getting up and storming out.
John B delivers a few kicks to David's abdomen making him weakly groan in pain. John B looks over at Barry who is standing across the room, smoking a joint.
"Nobody knows about this shit." John B states and Barry holds his hands up.
- - -
JJ and John B get back to the chateau with some pizza, soda, and beer. They walk inside, Pope and Y/N sitting on the couch. Y/N is curled up, resting against the arm of the couch. She has a blanket covering her and the two are watching Tangled, it comforting Y/N.
They look up as the two boys enter, Pope perking up at the food.
"Sweet." Pope says, standing up, walking over to the counter where JJ puts the boxes down.
"You guys actually went to get food?" Y/N asks.
"Yeah. Where else would we be?" John B asks, putting the beer and pack of soda bottles on the counter.
"I don't... I thought that maybe... forget it." Y/N mumbles, turning her attention back to the TV.
John B looks at JJ who gives him a look to shut up, not wanting to tell her anything. JJ puts two pieces of cheese pizza on a paper plate and grabs a bottle of soda. He walks over to Y/N, putting the bottle on the coffee table and holding the plate out to her.
"Thanks." She mumbles, taking the plate. JJ softly smiles at her, gently ruffling her hair. The three boys each get their own food and some beer.
Pope sits back down in his previous spot and John B sits on the floor, putting his stuff on the coffee table. JJ sits next to his sister.
"Oh, sweet, I love this part." John B says, watching the characters sing in the pub.
Y/N glances at JJ as he picks one of his pieces of pizza up. Her eyes immediately go to his bloodied knuckles.
"JJ." She quietly says, getting his attention. She glances up at his face before refocusing on his hand. JJ follows her gaze, putting the pizza down.
"Oh, those-- those are old." He dismisses, eating the pizza with his other hand.
"Then why are you hiding it?" She asks.
"I'm not." JJ says.
"Jayje." She mumbles.
JJ sighs, but leans closer to her so he doesn't have to talk loud.
"Look, it's fine, Y/N/N. Nothing's gonna happen to me and those shitheads got taught a lesson. No old, weird, disgusting creeps are gonna bother you now. Promise." JJ tells her.
"You shouldn't have done that." Y/N whispers.
"Have you met me?" JJ asks. "If you think I'm letting anybody get away with hurting you, you're fucking high, kiddo." He says making Y/N smile the slightest bit.
Taglist: @glxwingrxse @venomsvl @wildieflower @aliciacat20 @allyson15 @gabbylovesreading @ironmaiden1313
#jj maybank#jj maybank x sister reader#jj maybank x sister!reader#obx jj#outer banks#outer banks jj#obx
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Miss Americana - Chapter 4
Now Playing: I Can Do It With A Broken Heart
Minors, Ageless blogs DO NOT INTERACT, you will be blocked.
A/N: After I listened to TTPD, I had to use this song for Evie. Just is too perfect not to.
CW: MDNI, no smut, cursing, mentions of anxiety, panic attacks, mentioned abuse, mention of being used for pleasure, mention drugs, Marshall is still an asshole. As always, italics in “” depict Norwegian. Read at your own risk, I am not responsible for your media consumption.
Evelyne’s 17th birthday came and went faster than she could have hoped for. It would have been just like another day, but Nellie decided waking her up by belly flopping on her was a great idea. She still hadn’t heard from John Mactavish, the bastard. She feels emotionless at this point, just going with the motions. Wake up, get Nellie and Claire up and ready for school, feed them, drive them to school, work, pick them up, go home, let Marshall have his way, sleep. And then the same shit all over again.
Evelyne pulls into her driveway, shutting off her old shitty car. Nellie zooms out the back seat as soon as the engine turns off, Claire slowly shuffling out behind her. Andrews car was gone, which was weird. He should’ve been home from uni by now. Evelyne grabs her bag and makes her way into the house, the wonderful London wind fucking up her coils yet again.
“I can show you lies,”
“Lo-risssss!” Evelyne sings out as she walks past his room. When she hears no response, she pedals back to his door. It’s cracked open, which Andrew never does. He always closes it. Always. She pushes it open, dropping her bag as she looks into his room.
“Where is he?!” Evelyne comes screaming into the living room, marching up to Alice. “What the fuck did you do, Alice!”
Alice glares at her, the older woman’s eyes glazed over, the bitch is smoking again.
“I don’t know what you mean, sweetie.”
“Where is Andrew? What did you do to him?”
Alice scoffs, blowing smoke all over the place.
“Your ‘brother’ was gone when I woke up. I did nothing.”
Theres no fucking way he emptied his room overnight. No way. Right? Small feet stomp upstairs before Nellie's small voice calls out.
“Evieeeee, come play with us!”
Evelyne relaxes her shoulders as much as possible, trying to breathe slow and steady so as to not scare her sisters. “In a minute, Nel. I- I’ll be up in a minute.”
“You,” Evelyne breathes in sharply, “You are a fucking waste of a mother.”
“Cause I’m a real tough kid,”
She runs up the stairs, taking them two at a time. Evelyne storms back into Andrew’s room, holding back a sob at the emptiness. She sucks in a breath, raising her head high.
“I can handle my shit,”
She throws the covers off the bed, ripping the sheets off and turning the mattress over, searching for anything. A letter, a sign, hell, even a sticky note would suffice. She moves onto his small desk after she finds nothing on, or around, his bed. She takes the drawers out, finding them empty of any and everything.
“They said ‘baby gotta make it,’”
Andrews room is practically trashed by the time Evelyne is done, and she still found nothing. He up and left without a trace. She storms back into her room and opens her nightstand drawer, pulling it out of the base. She dumps the contents, shoving everything to the side on her floor.
“And I did,”
Evelyne snatches the Manila file when she sees it, the papers almost falling out. She brings it with her on the bed, flipping through the pages until she finds it. The registration form for the British Army. She grabs a pen from her bedside table, and begins filling it out.
“I can do it with a broken heart.”
#call of duty#cod modern warfare#cod mw2#cod mwii#modern warfare#call of duty modern warfare#Evelyne ‘Snake’ Gray#Evie#my post#my ocs#my writing
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The unfaithful bat: A new villain
Character: Clark Kent x male reader, Bruce Wayne x male reader
Universe: Somewhere in DC
Warnings: Very dark, reading on your own risk.
Life became good after Bruce Wayne. Your children were thriving. Especially the oldest two, Dick and Jason. You had never seen, how badly your husband had treated them really. It broke your heart that you were this blind to the things he had done. Now both adults, one with serious abandonment issues, a pessimistic outlook on relationships and the other, massive anger issues and falling into drugs.
At least the drug problems, were you able to end, after you got wind of it. He even got into a prestige university, after he became clean and actually mastered the aptitude test. Still he does not leave your home, he does all the work over the internet. Just to make sure, you would never be alone. Paranoia had exceeded in all of them. Except Damien, who actually kicked a group of villains out of the house once, when nobody even knew they were there.
Years later, Dick became a detective, a job made for him, while Jason is actually studying psychology. After everything he went trough, even dying once, I could not think of someone better to do it. Even when he needed to work, on listening to people.
Tim was an another story, the time he had spent in his room, on all his computers paid off for him. He didn’t even finished high school and already is leader of the „Digital Wayne branch“, Wayne Industries products, now easy to access over the worldwide web. And we also got into all sorts of diff rents industries as well, even movies.
Damien, actually changed, after Bruce had became this picture of an abusing cheater. For a while he kept for himself, lashed out at everyone except for you. But then slowly, he became kinder. He actually cared for others and fought those who bullied weaker people. His school hates him, because he on more than one occasion, broke someone a bone or two. But at the end, they had no foot to stand on.
The most prosperous, were you at the end. Your life took a sudden turn, when Clark asked you out on a date, one evening after a long interview. At this point, you were ready to pounce on him. So handsome sitting in an arm chair in your mansion. His tie slightly opened, just as his button up shirt, showing off his perfectly sculptured chest muscles.
But you could hold yourself, at least for a while. The second time you two found each other in a similar way, a couple of dates in, but not quite in a relationship yet, you did what your heart desired and climbed that tree. It was the most loving and intense experience you ever had in your life. Bruce was nothing in comparison to this younger man. Closer to Dicks age than yours, but it didn’t bothered you.
The kids had accepted him rather easily, which shouldn’t have been that surprising, because they already spoke of him in high regards, which you never understood or from where they had known him. But that was okay, maybe some connection Bruce had, you never knew about. As much during your marriage.
Now years later, and your relationship far enough to call each other fiancés. Life became what it always gets too, stressful. While Clark, could theoretically work everywhere, you couldn’t do always the same. And lately the office needed you more often. Sometimes even for extremely important meetings, that could’ve stopped further expansions.
Clark understood, as he always does. You never thought a perfect man could walk this planet, but thanks to him, you believed otherwise now.
Sometimes you even thought that he was way too good for you, especially after the debacle with Bruce and his countless tries in the beginning to get you and his family back. Isabelle, as you had named the daughter, his affair partner brought into this world, while you and Bruce were still married, knew only you and Clark as her fathers. She knew of Bruce, but never wanted contact with him.
She was still young and might change her mind later, with which you never had any problems, you hated this man, but would never hold him back to be a father, if he ever wanted to be one, that is.
It was just a normal day, Clark went to work that day, would only be able to make it close to night back home, but that was okay. You were on the way to the office, walking a while with Dick and Jason, until both of them needed to take their own paths. Everyday a little philosophical, even though all of you went separate ways, you always come back together.
Not so on this day. Close to night, when Clark finally came back, his stepsons already waited. Isabelle already in bed, without any worry in the world. But her four older brothers, were distraught to put it lightly.
„Did you see our dad?“, they almost in unison asked their dads fiancé. But he just shook with his head.
„Shouldn't he be home? It is late,“ he only commented, not really grasping what was going on. The boys looked at each other puzzled. Which made Clark think again.
It took him a moment, but he finally got the message, „Shoot, I have my costume with me. I search for him!“
Not even a second later, superman stood in front of the boys, they would need to take the long way to get to their equipment but promised, to follow him.
You woke up, with a pain on the back of your head. Disoriented, with a headache for days, you desperately wanted to look after the wound, hoping it wouldn’t be too bad. Instead of getting your hand there, you found yourself confined, with chains around your arms. Actually hold upright by them. Your head slightly hanging, with the pain impossible to get up.
Tough your feet were directly on the floor, they couldn’t be moved neither. Chained to the same floor you stood upon. Nowhere out, no voice to cry for help and with pain, that felt like it could kill you. The only thing you were able to do, was waiting for whoever took you to come back or for someone to save you.
Even tough you were a loved public figure, you did not think, that this was important enough for others to search for you. Maybe you just left and told no one, it wouldn’t have been the first time, that someone in your position did something like this. Or you just wanted to flee this entire ordeal with your divorce and subsequently moving away. But without your children? And after all this time?
Still you did not believed that someone could find you wherever you got chained up. It was dark, but the cold, slightly moist air, told you it was deep down somewhere.
For hours you kept yourself awake, to not fall asleep again with this massive wound on the back of your head. Arms slowly losing every feeling you ever had in them. Them getting cold from the little blood that get pumped into them. You had giving up to get out of there, the moment the feeling left your arms.
Now more or less, hanging on the chains, waiting for your capturer to come back, do whatever they have planned, maybe even getting a lot of ransom and hopefully letting you go in one piece.
Just then, finally you heard footsteps, together with a light source. For just a moment, your world was full with color, even in the darkness itself. Maybe it was help? You wanted to call out, until you saw who it was.
A lustful devilish smirk, laid upon a handsome face. One that you had called the love of your life not too long ago. „My love, here you are, I have searched for you everywhere.“ Directly after telling you that, he laughed maniacally. Like a lunatic. A well known black mask in his hand. It was the first time, you had seen him in his costume. You vaguely knew of his and your sons nightly activities. But actually never believed it.
„You are really batman?“ Your hoarse, vanishing voice, scared you, not only that but your throat was so dry, that every word spoken felt like the insides of your throat got polished with sandpaper.
„Of course I am baby, I told you many times. But you never believed me. Always working looking after the company, that you stole from me. His original owner!“, he screamed at you. But quickly recovered from it again. „Im sorry, I promised myself not to scream. But did it anyway hehe.“ His light laughter, sounded completely unhinged to you. Why was he keeping you there? Was he the one abducting you? No, that can’t be, if he is really Batman, he would’ve tried to save me, not taking my as a hostage. Yeah, he must be there to help you.
As you began to smile again, he did too. But for completely other reasons. „I knew, you would come around. Seeing me again as your husband and this time, even as your master. As I deserve to be.“
This little speech, was the turning point for your hopes and happiness. Your smile vanished as fast as it came to be. Dread taking you over.
„Oh did you hoped, I was here to help you? But I had already taking problems on me, to even take you, darling. How foolish of you! I obviously will keep you. Break you and build you up again, to be completely mine again. This little boy toy of yours, surely will not be able to satisfy you, right darling?“
His question sounded anything else than that. More like a plead to tell him what he wanted to hear, but you weren’t a big liar, so you just shut your mouth.
„Right darling?“, he asked more forceful, getting to you faster than his short steps before had promised you. As he almost was right in front of you, trough the little light, he was giving, you were able to see the absolute craziness in his eyes.
No longer than his hands caressing you face, you already knew that he wasn’t there to help you, but the opposite. The hunger for revenge was all too visible on his face. „Be a good boy, like you were when we were married and just let it happen.“ He tried to whisper in your ear seductively.
But it came out like the words of a maniac, spoken like gibberish, together with trembling fingers. „If you are good, I show you how a real man treats his partner.“
Even if you didn’t wanted to, a short chuckle came out of your mouth. It didn’t even take a second, before you felt a tingle in your cheek. The burning sensation from something hitting you there. „I see, you don’t want to be a good boy, then the hard tour. Maybe you learn to be good again, baby.“
Every time he gives you a nickname, you could feel a sickening feeling deep inside of you, one that only can happen, when you know that something really wasn’t right there. When you gut tells you, that something horrible will happen.
At the latest it became obvious, when he started to let his hands wander. First over your clothed body, but really quickly underneath it. Until he ripped and pulled at all of your clothes. They either ripped fully or let you have at least some decency.
With the horror happening right in front of your face, you became frozen. Just looking at the man you once loved and still a bit did, started to doing something like this to you?
Unable to process the happenings, you did nothing. What Bruce must’ve seen as consent. As he tried to kiss you, were you finally able to break free. Instead of kissing back, as he might have hoped, you bit on his lip.
As you tasted his slightly foul blood, he already punched in your stomach. Doubled down in pain. Bruce was walking around you. Helping you up from behind. But not out of love or his guilty conscious. No, his plans are way more malicious.
With all the ripping and pulling of your clothes, you at first haven’t even noticed it, but as you felt a warm hand on your behind, you were aware that something sinister was going on in Bruces head.
Before you even could beg for him not doing anything to you, he already had punched you again and again and again. Even electrocuting you, to his delight. It was sickening. But everything he was doing to you, robbed you a little bit more of the energy you had saved up to hopefully flee from this place at some point.
Until you were hanging there, legs buckled in, again not even enough energy to speak. „Was it really this heart, my love? Know I can finally show you how a good husband cares for their partner.“ Without any further notice, he pushed himself into you. Except for your widened eyes, nothing else happened.
Your throat was too pained to say a word or scream. He violated you what felt like for hours on end. Not even getting tired. He relentlessly dove into you, punching, cutting and slapping you all the time, while he put you down with every second word.
Never in your life had you ever felt this disgusting. So dirty and humiliated.
At some point he left, where you had thought that he was finished with you and left you there to die. But he came back, with more equipment, with multiple different whips, a gag ball and what he could’ve find.
You had no idea what had happened. Almost directly after Bruce had begun his second assault on you, nothing mattered anymore. Instead of being there, you fell in an old memory of yours, playing on fields, that were part of your families farm. Or was it a dream of you and Clark at his parents farm, where you felt so safe?
But as you later came back to your senses, multiple hands tried to save you. Thinking that it again was Bruce, but this time with more people around him, you began to cry. Bitter tears ran down your cheeks.
„Hey, hey, dad everything is okay, we are getting you out of here!“ As you heard your oldest sons voice, with all your left strength, you looked up at him. Pity, was the most evident in his eyes. Something you never wanted to see. Concern and anger, only side characters in his mix of emotions.
„Where is Clark? He can’t be here. Bruce has a trap for him. Please safe him!“, you begged your son. Bruce had told you all the secrets. Now aware that you next love was also a superhero, you weren’t so sure anymore. But still your love for him was strong.
„I get it, Jason you take him to a hospital, he needs immediate care!“
Jason hasn't said a single word, the entire time, he was carrying you from this place, to the nearest hospital. That he even could carry you this far was already a wonder in itself.
Thankfully, he had given you a Jacket to hide most of your at least intimate parts and even put a second mask on you, so no one would see who he was carrying.
In the hospital itself, some nurses came running down to you and Jason, trying to get you out of his arms. But he did not budged. Asking for specific doctors. Which as soon as they came, he let you in their care, warnings them, that nobody can know who you are.
At least you were safe again. You could only hope, that Clark aka Superman was as lucky as you were. But he was a superhero, of course he would come back to you. right?
Taglist: @ravenqueen27
#Clark Kent x male reader#Clark Kent imagine#Bruce Wayne x male reader#Bruce Wayne imagine#Bruce Wayne#dc x male reader#dc imagine#x male reader#male reader#male reader imagine#x male reader imagine
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Broken People PART I (James Wilson fanfic)
“Why do we ended up finding more broken people thinking we can fix them?”
Part II - Part III - Part IV - Part V - Part VI
Word count : 1.7k
Summary
Lynette the cardiologist had a trouble with drug abuse as she deals with a heavy painful migraine. She suspects that she’s going through a withdrawal after getting off the drugs. James comes to the rescue.
Authors note : I haven’t write in years guys. It’s shit but at least I tried.
WARNING: DRUG ABUSE‼️
The headache was killing Lynette on the inside. She was supposed to head on to work today but she decided to give Cuddy a call to let her know that she has a fever going on and that she would not be able to get to work on time. Cuddy gave a green light, but Lynette felt bad on the inside. Because she lied, she skipped her therapy session for a while now. She made a mistake by making an appointment at the hospital where she worked at. She could lose her credibility, people would question her. Its not a good reputation for someone with a great cardiologist reputation to uphold in the hospital. So she skipped, and it has gotten worst.
Truth be told, she cried into the night yesterday, she couldn’t stop bawling for whatever reason. Someone as so fragile as her can’t work in the hospital where she associates with death most of the time. But no she doesn’t lose any patients. All her patients that she treated most of the time are alive and well. Though some are in recovery. But there’s just one that she couldn’t save, and that was her dad. A doctor can’t treat a family. It would risk malpractice. It would risk her credibility, but it felt unfair if comparing to whatever House does with his patients but he always gets away with it. Along with Foreman, Cameron and Chase. They all got away with it.
She still blames herself every night but yesterday had been the boiling point and she can’t help but breaking down. She’s at the edge of her bed, her head in her hands while she leaning forward trying to hold herself together. “Iron deficiency with cephalalgia. Should eat probably..” she muttered to herself.
Suddenly the doorbell rang and it surprised Lynette, she didn’t expect any guests today. She walked over sloppily to the door, as she unlocked it. The first thing she saw was the soft brown eyes peering into hers. She was bright red looking at this surprise. Not to mention that she was only in her jogger pants and a crop T-shirt. She wasn’t fully prepared for this so she hides her tummy with her forearm but it doesn’t actually help.
“Hey..” Wilson started. “Heard that you got sick, I got you a little something to help..” he said while lifting a bag in his left hand. Lynette was still surprised but she managed to composed herself. Smiling softly at him, she invited him in while gesturing her hand and stepped to the side to give him room to walk in. She closed the door behind him as she go towards the toilet to composed herself for a while.
While she looks at herself in the mirror, her hair was disheveled and her face looked so dull so she washes her face and combed her hair nicely. She went outside to find Wilson on the couch, sitting and waiting for her. She tiredly head to the kitchen to make him a cup of tea. She hardly personally talks to Wilson at work unless if its all about work. She met some of his patients for a consult or a second opinion if it concerning the chests of a patient but other than that, she doesn’t always talk to him.
On the other hand, Wilson fidgets with his fingers. He was surprised at himself that he made it this far because he never thought he would ever do something like this. He has a crush on Lynette but never really wanting to say it because he knows House will get on his back and ream him on it. So he doesn’t confide or told anyone for 6 whole months and it was a personal record even for him. Lynette can be kind of reserved but he was worried because she has been taking pills every now and then just like House do. So when Cuddy told him that she’s not coming into work today, his worries intensified and he just had to come and see her.
Lynette walks towards the couch with the cup of tea in her right hand. She sat next to Wilson, putting the cup of tea infront of him while looking at his eyes, maybe for an answer. But she didn’t think of any reasons else other than a patient.
“Is this about a patient?” She composed herself. Wilson unconsciously eyes her, she was too skinny, with her pelvic bones literally exposed and too protruding. His worries needlessly intensified more.
“Um no, Cuddy told me you weren’t coming in so that she was trying to find another cardiologist to consult.” He stopped.
“I just got worried about you for a second..” he added. Lynette tiringly smiled. “Thank you.” She said.
Wilson awkwardly drinks the cup of tea. “Oh! This is nice. I like this. I think I had a similar taste of this years before..” he commented. “It’s just peach tea. Peace is my favourite scent and fruit.” Lynette commented. Then there was an awkward prolonged silence until Lynette reaches for the bag on the table that Wilson brought. It smelled delicious. It allured her.
“You hungry?” Wilson questions as her hands reached for the food container. Lynette smiled. “Yea I haven’t been able to eat these days, but its coming on to me now.” Lynette shyly says as she grabbed the chopsticks and pluck them. She helps herself to the Chinese food, she was impatient. Wilson looked at her adoringly. He was in love with her. He wanted to confessed but scared that she might run away considering she is a little reserved. Wilson watches as she chows down the food in her throat.
“You should go a little slower than that..” he commented. Lynette looked at him and slowed down with her chewing. After examining Wilson for a while. She knew that he isn’t here just to visit her. She puts down the food container and slowly wipes her mouth with the napkin.
“You’re not here just to visit me Wilson.” She started.
“Please, just call me James.” He looked at her with uncertainty plastered on his face.
Lynette just quietly looked at him waiting for some sort of answer before the unthinkable happened. She started to feel the food is lunging out of stomach. She quickly gets up to run to the toilet. She threw up all the content from her stomach. Wilson jumped up and ran after her, holding her hair up while she vomited the rest into the toilet. Wilson strokes her back gently. After she finished throwing up, she couldn’t get up. She was just too weak so Wilson carried her bridal style to her bedroom, pushing the bedsheets away, he put her gently onto the bed. He measures her pulses and found a thermometer on the bed table. He puts it in her mouth right under the tongue.
“Your hearts rates normal, temperature is also fine. Maybe a mild case of gastroenteritis. Do you have the meds for it? Or do you want me to prescribe you?” He asked gently. She looked at him and pointing to the drawer. He got her cue and took out what it seemed a bag full of medicines. He was looking for the right one to give it to her. “Loperamide..” he mutters quietly.
He passed her a cup of water to swallow the pill down which she gladly took. “You definitely need a lot of rest. You should tell Cuddy that you cant work for a few days.” He commented, looking at her with his puppy eyes. Lynette smiled tiringly.
“I can manage, thank you Wils— James. Thank you James. I felt better just a tiny bit. You should get going. Works calling. Your pagers been ringing a while and you didn’t even check.” Lynette worries.
“I did. Its that one annoying call from House..” he rolls his eyes. “Can I come back to check on you later, please?” He professed.
“You know you don’t have to..” she squirmed.
“I want to see you again. I want to be always to get to see you again.” He confessed. Lynette tilted her head in confusion but now its crystal clear. She slowly sat up, hating the headache again. She stood up, looking up at him. She gave him a warm hug. A hug that she needed for quite some time now. Wilson was surprised, but he smiled and hugged her even tighter. “I smelled like vomit though.” She professed. “Nothing I cant handle.” He smiles back. “I’ll come back to see you later..” he kissed her cheeks before leaving.
When Wilson closed the door behind him, he had the most giddy look on his face but he knew he had to control it because if House sees it, he will never hear the end of it.
The wild thoughts were running through Lynettes head.
Did he actually confessed that he likes me? That he wanted to see me everytime? Why didn’t I realise this before?
She thought a lot so the headache sneakily comes back after the euphoric moment that Lynette got really cranky. But she wanted herself to get sorted first so she hit the showers..feeling the euphoric energy flowed through her thinking about James that he is gonna come back to see her again. She closed her mouth with both her palms feeling giddy in the shower but pissed right afterwards that her headache gotten so much worse.
After showering, she was feeling the adrenaline rushing so she decided to clean up her house even though it was a drag trying to bear with the pain in her mind, but she needs to at least makes her house looked more presentable. She never expected that James would confessed. She didn’t see this before. It was a sign that she ignored every possibility for a love life at the hospital. It was supposed to be that way, for the sake of professionalism.
“I shouldn’t get my hopes up or anything. I should just let this go through the flow..” she calmed herself down after cleaning. A while later she continue to finish the food that James brought over.
A knock was heard from across the room. Lynette panicked, and that triggers the sudden migraine to come back. Its getting so bad lately that she contemplates to try taking the pills again but she promised herself that she wont be a drug user. She went to get the door with smile all over the face that slowly faded. She had another surprise guest coming in.
“House?”
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Taking Flight (Jett Diamants)
CW: Talks of child abuse, drug use, alcohol use, violence, smut, overstimulation
Jett, at his best, was a flight risk. Impulsive, reckless, and always wandering from one interest to the next. It always end in buying a new phone to avoid the fallout as he moves on, abandoning a house and a life he made with someone to spare them a life with him in it. He prefers it like that, likes the few intense months of lovebombing and obsessing and playing house before he realises they want more from him, they want to know him, and keep him, and hold him - and Jett can't offer those things. So he leaves.
So sitting at the dinner table in an apartment he only remembers the look of in the dark, while a gorgeous woman makes him breakfast and a man showers to get ready for work? It leaves his nerves itching, the bile in his stomach churns and threatens to come up, a migraine laps at his temples... it's all too domestic. He loathes it. He bounces his leg and lights a cigarette before a voice pipes up.
"If that's nicotine I smell before you eat, it better not be." She warns him, and he groans in reply before stubbing it out on his own thigh in a small fit of anger - but he knew better than to upset Sapphire, it'd only anger Elliott. And a part of him didn't like upsetting here either.
A plate of food is placed before him, mouthwatering pancakes with fresh fruits, a glass of orange juice. He mutters out his thanks as his stomach tells him to throw up, to run, to escape, this isn't right, this isn't his life -
His mother was a piece of work... burning one pancake meant she held you down as she forced you to eat it, called him a useless mutt, and then by the end he stared up at the face that made his, how she would soothe him and tell him it was for his own good, if he couldn't manage a pancake, how would anyone love him?
And Jett was just like his mother.
How long until they saw that and realized they despised him too?
His favourite people despising him just hurt too much, so he did what he did best - made them hate him and leave on his own terms.
"Pardon me, Saf..." He clears his throat and stands, maintaining his face, "Have a phonecall to do this, looks good though." He continues to lie smoothly, placing a kiss to her forehead as he heads out onto the balcony to phone the movers - readying to pack up and move country to escape this story he doesn't belong in.
Elliott was fuming. Sure, Jett was some feral shelter animal he picked up and fucked dumb, and he didn't matter in the slightest. Hell, Jett often had periods where he just up and left to come right back, all smiles and purrs. But this?
Sapphire was screaming and crying, she couldn't understand why Jett would abandon them, were they not good enough, did they anger him, did he find people who were better, did he realise how dependent they all were on each other, did -
And Elliott in this moment despised that little bastard.
All the Jett-isms had been slowly moved out right under his nose. His cologne that smelled of tobacco leaves, green sugar cane and Latin spices. His ratty leather jacket that was always slung over the back of the sofa. Even his damn toothbrush was lifted under his nose - and it was infuriating.
"Why would he go!?" She screams between sobs, gripping Elliott's shirt and soaking it with her tears, saliva, and snot.
"He's just having a moment." He whispers, holding the woman close and letting her get it out of her system, "Remember? Jett has low swings where you give him space and he comes right back?"
"He took all his stuff!"
Elliott couldn't spin that so he lied instead, "I told him to do it." Control the narrative, gain the upperhand, it was what he was good at and Jett would soon find out.
The back of his collar was held so tightly it choked him as he was hauled right back to the apartment of his deepest desires. He was crying and shaking, begging Elliott's men to take a bribe, "You can't! no merezco amor!" He sputters out around his crushed windpipe. Then the door is thrown open while Jett is thrown to his lovers' feet, like the miserable catch he is. He looks up, eyes sunken in and bloodshot, beard growing out and hair messy, in his face.
"Pathetic." Elliott mumbles, crouching to grip Jett's hair and make him look at Elliott, "Our pathetic little doll."
"Déjame ir... I can't- this- we-" He fumbles around with the words, marbles rebounding in his mouth with none being perfect for his excuse.
"Let's welcome him home, Saph... maybe he just needs reminded why we keep him so dumb and thoughtless." He stares deep into Jett's eyes, saw the self-loathing there, the one that they regularly fucked dumb out of him.
Sapphire crouches down and caresses Jett's cheek, a direct contrast to the sting on his scalp, "You're home, Claude. Let us take care of you, sweetheart..." She whispers, leaning forward to kiss his cheek as he keens at the use of his middle name.
Jett is crying into Sapphire's breasts, his mouth still wrapped around a nipple and rolling it between his teeth, his hand working the other soft breast as he does his best to breathe between sobs and moans, all while she sighs in pleasure, stroking his hair and whispering praises he desperately needed deep in his soul.
Elliott was behind him, a hand in his hair to encourage him to continue using his mouth on their little gem's breasts and pleasure her, the other keeping a vice-like grip on the man's hip with the intent to bruise it, a permanent reminder of who handles him. His cock bullied into Jett's tight ass, slick with lube and so tight it strangled his length in a pleasing way that nothing else compares to. Relentless in his pace, pounding into that little spot that makes Jett dumb and high on pleasure, makes him a cockdrunk little whore that can do nothing but chase pleasure.
With every time that Elliott bottomed out into Jett, listening to the man whimper and moan pathetically, it forced Jett's cock right back into Sapphire's slick cunt, where it always stretched her out just right, his piercings rolling over every grain of pleasure in her gummy heat while his tip pounded against that spot that made her see stars behind her eyelids - it was a debauched sight - his two lovers coming undone because of him.
Sapphire moans loudly, her back arching as she feels Jett's cock pummel into her, and she reaches her hand down to roll Jett's sensitive pierced nipples between her fingers and tug. They meet eyes and she sees Jett's glassy, tearful eyes as he chases his pleasure, empty and devoid of thought, devoid of the silly ideas that he should leave - no they were the greatest drug he could take, and they would ensure that addiction was fed. Keep him coming around.
Fat, white globs of release paint over Sapphire's cunt, as Jett's mouth unlatches from her breast for him to cry out in bliss, his every muscle convulsing and cheeks flushing as he can't hold himself up anymore. She coos as he fills her up with sticky warmth, but Elliott forces him to keep fucking her through his orgasm, causing Jett to cry and his brain to start to go fuzzy, his hands balled into fists in an effort to not start sobbing from the overstimulating. Cunt, ass, nipples, praise- it's all too much and he loves it, on a pink cloud unlike any other.
Elliott repositions Jett's hips, using him as a toy for Sapphire, and bullies the cock into her just right. Watches as her face contorts in pure bliss and she moans his name like a prayer, as her legs lock around Jett's hips, locking Elliott's grip onto Jett's hips, and then the thighs tense and shake and he chuckles. Three hard, brutal thrusts later he watches her face as she cums with a high pitch, keening wail - and Jett sighs and sobs as her cunt flutters around his soft cock, milking him for all he's worth.
The sight is so perfect that Elliott himself cums on the spot, forcing Jett's arse back tight against his pelvis while he bottoms out into the tight arsehole and fills it up with his spend. Enjoying how the sexdrunk addict claws at the blankets, sinks his teeth into Sapphire's skin to suck hickeys into it, tries to gain a semblance of reality that they won't let him slip into again after this little stunt.
Pulling out with a grunt, he strokes Jett's back and mumbles, "Good boy... that's it... just our good boy, never wanted to leave did ya..."
Sapphire giggles breathlessly and kisses the top of Jett's head, "So perfect for us, Claude... don't you wanna stay and be loved like this forever?"
Jett's eyes close, the words, voices, praises all muddled under a sea of pink pleasure as his high tingles across his body, while he feels lighter than air and drinks in saccharine sweet love that his heart needs.
And Jett's an addict.
He'll always come right back for more.
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"Greed"- Antisepticeye x you
Prompt: “Open the door or I’ll kill them all.”
Antis batshit crazy in this one, so closer to canon-
TW: yandere themes, implied murder (not to graphic), kidnapping, torture mention, emotional/mental abuse
Cshh-cshh-cshh. Sawing…sawing…sawing. It took hours…maybe years, you didn't know. Time was like a foreign language to you now. Always wanting to learn it, but could barely understand it. You were always left in a state of disorientation when he visited you. Which was often. Whether it was his psychic abilities or by man-made drugs, forgetting where the bed you slept in was was a common occurrence.
Once the rope that was around your ankles and wrists finally broke, you ran. Quicker and quicker. It didn’t matter that the thorns and rocks in the ground cut into the soles of your feet, you needed to get out. Get out of the cottage that he trapped you in. Since the first day, he's tried to sway you into living a pleasant life with him. You almost gave in to the temptation- all the mind games and all the nightmares would stop if you just obeyed him. If you pretended like you loved him, as you weren't kidnapped, and pretend as if he wasn't a monster. Although, the final push for you to finally enact your plan for leaving was what took place two days ago.
Anti brought a bound man into the living room, throwing him onto the floor. He said he wanted to play cards with the two of you, mentioning how you seemed bored with playing goldfish with only one other player. It wouldn’t be ‘fun’ without a reward, according to him.
If you won, you got to go outside for an hour. Within no more than 10 ft away from Anti, of course… but he promised he wouldn't start a conversation- so you’d sit in peace, atleast. It’s been ages since you last felt wind. Since you were able to feel something familiar and welcoming. Though, if he won, you’d have help him torture the man. He promised you’d only hold him down and hand tools to him while he did the dirty work, as if that was supposed to make you feel any less mortified.
You lost that night.. you wish you could forget the screams.
The sky was as dark as your circumstances when you moved. You stayed in the woods for cover, still in eyesight of the road in case a car passed by. One never did. Your breathing was ragged and lungs were burned when you reached the back of a building- and yet you pushed. Your desire to be safe and live was fueling you. You shoved the door open- finding it was a gas station. You knocked over a display case of keychains to get attention, too tired to yell for help. A man ran up to the front-seeing you covered in patches of dirt and stained blood from the card game. Mouthing help and leaning on the counter, you tried to catch your breath.
“Oh my god- Ohhh my god, are you okay? Are you shot? What should I do?” He asked in a panic.
Tears of joy from finally escaping and tears of anguish from all the horror you’ve been through ran down your cheeks. You pointed to a water case on the counter and reached for the work phone, pressing 911 as quickly as you could. The worker got a bottle of water and took the phone-answering the call. As you chugged down the water, wondering how long it’d take till you saw your friends again, the lights started to flicker on and off. It wasn't over yet, you could still escape.
Staring the worker dead in the eyes, you whispered, “Hide.” He told the operator that you were ‘on something’. You tried again, “Hide, please.”
You didn't have time to explain the unexplainable- both of your lives were at risk. The man backed away, appearing threatened by you. Shaking your head and running into the back closet, you hoped to whatever higher being was out there that the worker ended up okay and that the very being that you ran from didn’t find you. You stayed quiet, silent tears running down your face. The worker's high pitched scream let you know that he was here. You covered your mouth, choking back a sob. You could hear the windows of the gas station shatter and aisles being knocked over in anger.
“I know you’re here~” The monster sang quietly, making his way to where you were hiding. You bit down on your arm to muffle the sound of your heavy breaths .
“You’re not in trouble, I promise. I know you get…a little scared sometimes. It's a natural human response to run from what you cannot understand. Please come out, sweet one…” He said aloud. His footsteps sounded closer and closer. You knew deep down that there was no way out of this.
“I told you I’d never use physical force on you… And I kept my word, didn't I?”
You stayed quiet.
“I know you're in that closet so just answer me before I tear that door off,” Anti spitted out, tapping his knuckles gently on the door frame to tease you. A stark contrast to his harsh words.
“Yes…” And it was true. He's never physically hurt you. But all the other ways anyone could hurt someone, he did.
“I - I want you to come on out so we can go back home, Darling… It's almost breakfast time but I'll lie you down for a long nap after we get you cleaned up. Then I’ll probably hand feed you- you must be so weak after all that running and jumping and whatnot.”
“No. I’m not going back with you… The only way I’ll go back is if I'm dead," You replied with a steady voice, at least you hope you did.
He was silent, raking his nails over the door gently.
“Ohh, Sweetheart. I'll give you a choice- We can stay here, for however long it takes you to come back to the love of your life. Do note that I don't need food or water like you do… And if you pass-out- well, I’m only helping you technically by carrying you out. Wouldn't want you to freeze to death. But..” He trailed off,
” For every five minutes you stay in there, I’m going to kill ten townspeople by random… You've seen my wonderful pet, Sam, haven't you?”
You felt sick, your whole body turning stone cold. He rapped his knuckles on the door to one of the tunes he played a lot. Some old rock song. Covering your face and crying, hating yourself for even considering just staying here for a sliver of peace at the cost of innocent lives.
“Open the door or I’ll kill them all~” He softly laughed, adding slashing noises for affect. You reached up, pausing, knowing you were fucked either way. The second the door was open, you were picked up by under your arms. Sobbing, you were set on a counter and hugged tightly. The ‘itch’, as you called it, of his skin traveled through you, making you shiver, but not with coldness. It was a feeling comparable to very light electrocution.
“I missed you so much… It's been so long since I’ve felt you, Darling.” His hand cupped the back of your neck, making your face press against the crook of his throat. He looked up for a second,
“Six hours… A whole six hours you weren't with me at our home,” He faked a sob, “We’ll definitely have to make up for lost time…”
#angst#antisepticeye#x reader#antisepticeye x reader#no comfort#whump#captivity#yandere#death implied#injury
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Destiny & Deliverance: Chapter 16
Destiny & Deliverance Masterlist ||| Dieter Bravo X OFC
New as of 8/14/2023
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REBLOGGING & COMMENTS ARE APPRECIATED.
Series Rating: Explicit (18+)
Series Summary: Natalia Cohen is experiencing major life changes, beginning with leaving an emotionally abusive husband. She is learning how to navigate life on her own while dealing with high functioning anxiety, depression, and mild PTSD. Everything is looking up for her. She is a highly respected consultant for a major LA firm, has her best friend, Lauren, by her side, and is on her path to healing. Everything changes when she meets a handsome and broken stranger on a work trip. He turns out to be a well-known actor, with a heart-breaking past. They quickly develop a connection that will forever alter their lives.
Warnings: Themes dealing with mental health, emotional trauma, alcohol use, and discussions about suicide. There will be fluff, tears, spicy language, and smut. This will be a slow burn type of story. Read at your own risk.
Chapter Warning: Brief mention of drug use.
Chapter Quote:
“Don’t you have something to do that doesn’t involve hitting on me?”
A/N: Because I can't judge things very well, you're getting an extra-long chapter this time. Enjoy.
Sunday morning, I woke up to Dieter sliding his hand across my bare stomach under my shirt as he adjusted his sleeping position. I had migrated onto my back at some point in the night and he was now cuddled up against my left side with his head laying on my chest. He had tangled his legs with mine and my left arm was draped around him. I looked down at him, he was sleeping peacefully. The worry lines between his eyes were almost non-existent. I reached up to gently stroke his hair away from his face and he hummed quietly but didn’t open his eyes. I continued to scratch at his head while he slept. It was close to eleven, but I didn’t have the heart to wake him. He needed to rest.
I laid there watching him sleep for some time while thinking through the last few days. Based on his previous behavior, these episodes have probably been happening this entire time and I was completely unaware of it. As far back as our first meeting in New York, he had mentioned he didn’t sleep well. I felt sick because I hadn’t picked up on how bad it was sooner. I felt like I should have. There were days that he was clearly seeking solace and I was completely oblivious to the reasonings behind it. I needed to do better for him.
As I replayed all our time together, it occurred to me that when he was with me, this didn’t happen. The nights he stayed with me in New York, he slept like the dead. The times he had fallen asleep on the couch with me at his side, he rested peacefully. I glanced back down at him. Surely, I wasn’t the thing keeping the nightmares away. It had to be a coincidence, or maybe it was just the simple fact that he wasn’t alone.
Maybe the security of having someone at his side during his most vulnerable time gave him some type of relief. I sighed quietly to myself. This was certainly going to complicate things, but I didn’t care anymore. I made the decision to give that small part of myself that I had been holding back, over to him. I needed him to be happy more than I needed to protect myself.
Around noon, he started to stir. I watched him as he briefly nuzzled his face into my chest. I could feel his fingertips tightening around my waist. He stilled his movements as his eyes popped open and briefly flicked around the room. Once they landed on mine, he gave a slight grimace as he went to move away from me, afraid he was doing something inappropriate. I stopped his movements with my left hand, indicating that he didn’t need to move. He looked confused, but settled back into his spot as he angled his body so that he could see my face. I continued stroking his hair and gave him a small smile. He gave me a half smile in return.
“You doing ok this morning?” I asked him quietly. His brows drew down together, causing the lines to return between his eyes.
“Yeah, I’m sor…”
“Don’t apologize. You don’t need to.”
He sighed heavily at me.
“Can I ask you some questions? You can choose not to answer them.” He inhaled deeply as he said yes.
“Does this happen often?” He scrunched his face up as he decided what to say. He wouldn’t look at me as he spoke.
“It’s something that’s happened for a while, though lately it seems to be getting worse. I think that’s because I’ve stopped drinking and self-medicating constantly. Sometimes it's just insomnia and sometimes it’s nightmares. I’ve been doing this whole cognitive behavior therapy thing since I got back from filming that last movie and the doctor put me on some benzos and antidepressants to help treat the symptoms, but I don’t think it’s working.”
I was honestly shocked that he shared that much with me, though I didn’t necessarily think it was a big secret. He had told me he was going to therapy, and I had seen the medication bottles at his house. He had never talked about it though.
“Have you told the doctor that it’s getting worse?”
“I’ve mentioned it, but he says it can sometimes take a while to work and could get worse before it gets better.”
“It’s not bad all the time though, right? There are some days you seem ok.”
“The nights are always the worst. I’m usually good during the day if I stay busy and I’m not alone.”
“What about when you're not alone at night?”
His face flushed a little at that question. He seemed unsure of how to answer it. He looked away again as he responded.
“I’ll admit… that I seem to sleep perfectly fine… when I’m with you.”
I nodded my head and gave him a small smirk. I believed him.
“Well, if you need to stay with me, you can. I won’t question it. I don’t mind being your emotional support person.”
His eyes darted back to mine; they were wide with surprise. He gave me a small nod as his eyebrows shot up.
We sat in silence for several minutes. Still in the intimate position we had woken up in. If this was going to become a thing, I knew I was in real danger of falling hard for this man.
Dieter broke the silence by saying he really had to go pee. We both laughed. I had been about to bust since I woke up too. So, we finally rolled out of bed. I made us a quick breakfast then he ran over to his house. He said he had some scripts he needed to read through by the following day because he had a meeting with his agent, so he needed to get those.
After he left, I freshened up a bit then threw my hair up in a messy bun and put on my overalls and a tank. It was my favorite workwear these days. I had decided to go downstairs to my craft room and continue working on some projects I had started. I was in the midst of sculpting a new figure at one of my standing tables when I heard Dieter calling out for me. I yelled back letting him know where I was.
He walked in holding a thick binder and came to stand next to me, watching me work for a moment. I glanced over at him, noticing that he was looking me up and down. He hadn’t realized that I had turned to face him while he was shamelessly checking me out. I raised an eyebrow at him as his eyes met mine. He smiled as he bit his lip and raised his eyebrows in return.
“I guess I’m busted on that one,” he said through a chuckle. His face had started to turn pink.
“Ugh, yeah.” I laughed with him. He reached over and tugged at the front of my overalls.
“Sorry, I just find this whole look incredibly adorable for some reason.”
He paused briefly, weighing if he should say more. A flirtatious grin spread across his face.
“Especially when you wear them while you’re cooking in my kitchen.”
My breath hitched a little at his words. I gave a small laugh as a lopsided grin spread across my face. I shook my head. I couldn’t believe he just said that.
“Don’t you have something to do that doesn’t involve hitting on me?” I said jokingly.
He motioned to his binder, “I do. I’m gonna go sit over here and read…and watch you do whatever it is you’re doing.” I rolled my eyes at him.
“So those things come in binders now?”
“Yeah, ever since some random girl at a bar spilled water on one in New York and I had to ask for my third copy. I’m surprised there aren’t page protectors too.”
I couldn’t help but to give him a big grin. He gave me a toothy smile back as he walked toward one of the small chairs near the glass doors.
“Will it bother you if I turn some music on?”
“Not at all.”
I fired up the Bluetooth speakers and let the music library on my phone randomly cycle through. I had to watch myself as I worked, making sure I wasn’t getting too carried away with my movements when a particularly catchy song played. I noticed it seemed to be distracting for Dieter when I did. I would glance over at him when I could feel his eyes on me and he would give me a smirk as he shook his head, trying to focus on his scripts. At this point I was completely comfortable around him and not afraid to act a little silly. I had never been like that with Justin. He would have been embarrassed by it. It was so refreshing to be able to let loose and have fun. I wish Dieter understood how I had been missing that in my life before him.
We spent the entire day engrossed in what we were doing, only to briefly take a break to eat some leftovers for dinner. It was different to be working on a project with him there. Normally that was a solitary activity for me. He was still doing his own thing and we mostly worked in silence, but his presence was comforting. I liked it more than I wanted to admit.
As it got close to bedtime, I decided I was going to go shower because I had clay and paint all over my hands and face too apparently. Dieter laughed at how messy I had gotten, again telling me it was adorable. I rolled my eyes at him again as I left the room.
After I finished showering, I dried my hair, then walked out into the bedroom. Dieter was sitting in my bed under the blanket, propped up on the pillows. He wasn’t wearing a shirt and his hair looked damp. He was still reading through his scripts, now with his glasses on. His eyebrows were drawn together in concentration. The only light coming from the lamp on the nightstand beside him. I paused briefly, taking in the sight before me. I felt butterflies form in my stomach. Something about the scene hitting me hard. I gave a small laugh and smiled at him. He finally looked up, noticing me for the first time. One side of his mouth lifted in a smirk as he looked back down at his pages.
“I’m gonna go grab some water, you want anything?” I asked him.
“Na, I’ll just drink some of yours.” He tried to contain his smile as he continued to look at his binder. I jokingly scoffed at him as I walked out of the room.
I ran to grab a bottle of water out of the refrigerator and did a quick check to make sure everything was turned off and locked up for the night. It looked like Dieter had already taken care of all that. I felt some sort of unfamiliar emotion run through me. I wasn’t sure what it was, but it was different. I brushed that thought aside as I walked back to the bedroom.
After I walked in, I stood taking a long drink of the water. Once I was finished, I put the lid back on and tossed it to him. He took a quick drink and set it on his nightstand. I crawled into bed and settled in beside him, facing in his direction. After I got comfortable, he reached over and started to absentmindedly stroke my hair and twirl it between his fingers. I drifted off to sleep almost immediately from the sensation.
Sometime later, his movements jarred me awake. He was reaching over to set his binder down and turn off the light. In the dark, I could feel him twisting to face me as he snuggled down in the bed and situated his pillow. He scooted in closer and put his arm around my waist. I could feel his breath in my hair as his scent and body heat surrounded me. I didn’t hesitate to snuggle in closer to his chest and wrap my arm around him. I knew I was a goner by this point. I wasn’t going to be able to fight it much longer. Surprisingly, Dieter immediately fell asleep. I wasn’t far behind him. He slept through the night without incident.
In the days that followed, this became our new nightly routine. We even spent a night at his house together. There was never anything sexual about it. We were both well behaved. However, I would be lying if I said there wasn’t an increase in the flirting and sexual tension between us. I knew it was only a matter of time before one of us broke. This whole thing was unsustainable.
On Wednesday, Dieter got a call from his friend, Max, who was a well-known DJ. He was going to be in town the following day performing at a local club and really wanted him to come because they hadn’t seen each other in a couple of years. Max said the whole “crew” was going to be there. Dieter wasn’t particularly excited at the thought of seeing everyone else, but he did want to see Max. Dieter asked Lauren and I if we would like to go. I was a little apprehensive about it. I hadn’t been to a club since college but agreed to go. Lauren was always down for a good time and agreed too.
Thursday afternoon, I was feeling a little anxious and had no idea what to wear. I was flipping through the items hanging in my closet when Lauren called to see what the plans were for the evening. Max was sending a car to pick us up around seven, so I told her to meet us here. I put the phone on speaker as I continued to dig through my closet. I asked her what she was wearing. She had some sort of silver sequined sparkly thing, because of course she did.
“How about you wear that little black spaghetti strap dress we bought that one time. The one that has the see through strips on it. I’m pretty sure it’s still in the back of the closet with tags.”
“The fact that you know what’s in my closet and where it is scares me. Also, I’m not wearing that. It’s short and that’s a lot of skin.”
I heard Dieter yell something from where he was sprawled out on the bed, in nothing but his gym shorts, half tangled in the blankets, and sporting a serious case of bed head. We had been lazy in bed most of the day. He had been alternating between scrolling through his phone and watching tv while I worked on my laptop beside him. He had continued his activities as I got up to dig through the closet. He had been silent until now. I popped my head out of the closet, still holding my cell in my hand.
“Did you say something?”
“Yeah, I did. What little black dress? Lemme see it.” He was giving me his flirty smirk.
Lauren piped up, “Yeah Talia, let him see it.”
“You guys’ fucking suck. Stop ganging up on me.” I said as I scoffed jokingly at them. They both laughed. I found the offending dress hidden at the back, just where Lauren said it would be, and brought it out to show him. His eyebrows shot up as he gave me a half grin.
“I see absolutely nothing wrong with that. It gets my vote!”
“I don’t even know if this thing fits.”
“So, try it on, obviously,” Lauren huffed out on the other end of the phone.
“Geez, so much attitude today. Fine, I’ll try it on.”
I walked back into the closet, changed into it quickly, and had a look in the mirror.
“It’s not that bad actually.”
“Good. Wear it. You will look amazing and I’m sure you will turn heads.” Lauren said casually. I knew what she was hinting at.
“Do I get to see it?” Dieter yelled from the bed. I could hear Lauren trying to stifle a laugh.
“No. You can see it later.”
“Jeeeerk,” he yelled out in response. I rolled my eyes at him as I changed back into my pajama shorts and tee.
“Ok, crisis averted, I guess. I’ll see you here shortly, yeah?”
“Of course, I’ll be there with my party shoes on. You better bring some sunglasses because my sparkle is going to be epic,” Lauren said very enthusiastically.
“Can’t wait!” I replied dryly before hanging up.
Shortly after hanging up with Lauren, I hopped in the shower to start getting ready. Once I was out, I threw on my bathrobe and sat down at my makeup vanity to make myself presentable. Dieter knocked on the door, and I yelled for him to come in.
“I’m gonna run over to my place and find something to wear that isn’t gym clothes. I’ll be back shortly.”
I gave him a thumbs up and he disappeared from the doorway.
I decided to go a little heavier on the makeup and add some eyeshadow and eyeliner and do some contouring. I figured that I might as well go all out. By the time I was adding products to my damp hair, Dieter popped back into the doorway. He was watching me silently as I started to dry my hair and run the brush through it. He stood there until I was finished. I gave him a questioning look in the mirror.
“Sorry to be a nuisance, but can you show me how to use the steam function on your dryer so I can get the wrinkles out of my clothes?”
He looked embarrassed to be asking and it was pretty damn adorable. I gave a small chuckle before getting up to show him. I tried to explain to him how to change the settings, but he just stared at me with a confused look. I gave up and started it for him, then headed back to finish getting ready. All I had left was my hair, and I decided to leave it down in loose waves to complete the look.
After I finished with my hair, I gave myself a quick squirt of perfume on my neck and wrist. Then, I walked out into the bedroom to my dresser to figure out what to wear under the dress. I had a feeling that a bra was out of the question because of the way it was cut. I let out a little huff when I realized that. I silently hoped there would be no nip slips in my future. The straps on the dress were adjustable, so hopefully it would be a snug fit to hold everything in. I shook my head out of annoyance. I grabbed a pair of black lace boy short panties and briefly held them up to check the sizing. I hadn’t worn them in ages but figured it may cut back on pantie lines. I wasn’t down to wear thongs with a shorter dress.
Once I was satisfied with my choice, I turned to find Dieter standing in the doorway of the bedroom, looking at me a little wide-eyed. He blushed slightly and gave me a half grin. Clearly, he had seen those. I tried not to look embarrassed and ignored the awkward situation.
“Is Lauren here yet?”
“Uhhh… no,” was all he managed to get out before he cleared his throat.
“I’m just gonna grab some stuff out of my bag and go take a quick shower.”
“That’s a good choice. I’m not sure there’s any hope for your hair otherwise.” I shot back with a chuckle.
“You can use my shower if you want. I’m done in there.”’
He gave me a small nod before bending down and digging through his bag. I made my way over to the closet. I could feel his eyes on me as I moved, but I ignored it. I guess he now had a visual to keep his mind busy for the evening.
I spent the next few minutes digging for my black strappy heels and trying to decide on accessories. I went with some simple silver drop earrings and a silver cuff bracelet. Then I changed into my outfit for the evening.
The dress wasn’t too short. It hit mid-thigh and was fitted. It was a slightly heavier fabric with a triangular shaped bodice that provided a flattering look. It had a crochet ladder trim which lined the underside of the bust and the top edges of the bodice that allowed just a hint of skin to peek through. I felt like it was sexy, but still classy.
Of course, as I tried to zip the back of it, it got hung up. I tried for several minutes without success to close the zipper. I dropped my head in defeat, knowing that I was going to have to ask Dieter to do it. It had gotten stuck toward the bottom, so the black lace of my panties was just barely visible. He was about to get an eye full.
I sighed as I walked out into the bedroom, finding him standing there, with wet hair in nothing but a towel, holding several products in his hand that he was pulling from his bag. He nearly dropped them as my sudden appearance startled him. He looked at me with wide eyes.
“I’m sorry to ask, but can you help with the zipper? It’s stuck.”
He gave me a slow nod as he walked toward me, sitting the items he had been holding down on the end of the bed. I turned away from him trying to ignore the fact that he was only wearing a towel, and revealed my bare back and sliver of lace that was peeking out. I glanced back at him over my shoulder, noticing he swallowed hard. He cleared his throat as he reached out to fiddle with the zipper. His hands sent a searing heat through my body as they lightly grazed over the bare skin of my lower back.
“What is it with you and zippers?” He asked with a chuckle. This clearly had him thinking about the incident with my pants in New York.
After a minute of struggling with the offending closure, it finally started to slide upward. Then he clasped the hook shut at the top. His hands gently glided to my shoulders, giving them a small squeeze to let me know he was done.
I said a quiet thank you as I went to stand in front of the dresser mirror. I reached up, attempting to adjust the straps, but struggled because they adjusted toward the back. Dieter appeared behind me again to assist. Our eyes met in the mirror as he tightened the first strap. We stayed locked in an intense gaze until he finished with it.
“You look amazing,” he said without meeting my eyes again. I gave him a small smile as I continued to watch him in the mirror. He gently brushed my hair away from the second strap. I tilted my head slightly so that it would stay out of the way, revealing my bare neck to him. I noticed his eyes graze down the length of my neck before he started to work on the second strap. When he was finished, he reached up to let his hand settle on my exposed neck, his thumb gently rubbed as his eyes met mine in the mirror again.
“Is that good?” He asked with a small smirk on his face. His eyes were smoldering and dark as he arched an eyebrow at me.
It was my turn to clear my throat as I slowly nodded my head up and down. A nervous smile spread across my face.
“Good, I’m gonna finish getting ready then.”
He turned, grabbing the items he had set on the bed and headed back to the bathroom. I could feel a flush creeping up my neck and into my cheeks from his contact. I suddenly felt an ache between my legs causing me to clench my thighs together in search of relief. I had a gut feeling that tonight was going to be interesting.
My thoughts were interrupted by Lauren’s voice calling from the living room.
“The party is here bitches!”
I chuckled to myself and rolled my eyes as I grabbed my shoes and black clutch from just inside the closet door. I heard Dieter laughing in the bathroom as I walked out toward the living room to meet her. Lauren immediately caught sight of me.
“Damn girl, you look fucking hot.”
She lowered her voice before continuing, “Has he seen you yet?”
I could feel my face flushing again as I nodded yes. She started laughing.
“Why do you have that look on your face? Did something happen?” She asked quietly while also keeping an eye out for Dieter as she spoke.
I scoffed, “No. Nothing happened.”
She raised her brows at me, “I don’t believe that for a second.”
“There may potentially be some sexual tension building.”
“Oh, that’s just now happening, is it? I was under the impression that’s been happening for months.”
I gave her an annoyed look and shot her the bird. She smiled sweetly and flipped me off in return.
About that time, Dieter came strutting down the hallway. He was looking particularly handsome in some fitted black jeans and deep red V-neck tee that emphasized his broad chest and muscular arms. He had styled his hair into messy perfection. As he entered the living room, his eyes immediately landed on Lauren in her silver sequined scoop neck top that had a strappy open back. She had paired it with a black mini skirt.
“Geez woman, you’re going to blind everyone with that get up,” Dieter said through laughter as he walked toward her. He pulled her into a side hug before saying, “I’m only kidding, you look great. If there ever was anyone to pull off all that bling it’s you, mi pequeña girasol. I’ve said from the beginning you're a walking ray of sunshine.”
“Oh geez, let’s not inflate her ego anymore, please.”
Lauren flipped me off again, “If the gentleman wants to compliment me, then there is no need to stop him,” she replied with a sarcastic smile.
I gave her an exaggerated eye roll as Dieter laughed at our bickering.
We sat chatting for a few minutes as we waited for our ride. I noticed Dieter sneaking glances over at me when he thought I wasn’t looking. Lauren had noticed too based on the smirk she kept trying to hide.
We didn’t have to wait long, as we soon heard a horn honking. We gathered up our things, put on our shoes, then headed out to the black SUV waiting in the driveway. Lauren was quick to get in on one side in the back making sure I had to sit next to Dieter. I sat sandwiched between the two of them. I felt like she was purposefully taking up more space than necessary, forcing me closer into his side. Nearly the entire length of our bodies were touching. I could smell his cologne wafting around me mixing with the scent of my perfume. It was intoxicating.
He seemed nervous during the ride. I couldn’t tell if it was me making him nervous or the fact that we were about to be around his friends. It may have been a little of both since he seemed reluctant to have any physical contact with me since the zipper incident. It had clearly rattled us both.
Sensing that he needed some reassurance, I reached over and sat my hand on his arm and gave it a small squeeze. This seemed to do the trick as he moved his hand from his lap and laced his fingers with mine. He reached his other hand over and sat it on top of our entwined fingers and started rubbing the back of my hand with his thumb. I glanced back toward Lauren and noticed she had arched a brow in my direction, then rolled her eyes as she turned to look out the window.
Once we arrived at the venue, we immediately noticed the large crowd out front and a lot of camera flashes going off. I hadn’t been prepared for that. Dieter spoke up and asked the driver to take us to the back entrance. I think Lauren and I were both relieved.
We made our way inside and were led to a large dressing room in the back. It was full of people. Several I recognized from the get together at Dieter’s house, including Anna. She was wearing what I could only describe as a brown silky looking potato sack with a belt. It looked about three sizes too big and wasn’t flattering at all. It had no shape to it except for the weird puffy shoulders. Clearly, I did not understand the current fashions.
Anna was quick to come over and greet us, then led us over to Max. She decided she was going to introduce Lauren and I, noting that we were friends of Dieter’s. Max gave both of us an obvious head to toe look. I felt Dieter slide one of his hands around my waist, almost possessively as he reached forward to shake his friend's hand. I couldn’t help the smirk that formed on my face.
“Hey man, how have you been?” He asked Max casually.
“I’ve been great, actually. I’m going on two years sober and feel like I’ve finally got my life together. You?”
“Happy to hear that. Yeah, I’ve been trying to get my shit together too. It’s a slow process, but I’ve been doing well overall I think.”
The two friends chatted for a bit, catching up on each other's lives. Lauren and I moved off to the side to give them a minute. Anna got bored with them quickly and went back to her group, which was already being obnoxious.
I noticed as Max and Dieter chatted, Max kept glancing at Lauren, who was beside me telling me about something that happened in one of her classes that week. She was completely oblivious to it. I bumped her shoulder and leaned in closer once I had her attention.
“I think the hot DJ may have a thing for you. He keeps checking you out.”
She gave me a disgusted face, “I’m not interested in the slightest. He’s not my type.”
“Since when is tall, blonde, and handsome not your type?”
“I dunno, there’s something kind of skeevy about him. He probably sleeps around.”
I didn’t disagree there. I could see it. I shrugged and nodded in agreement.
Dieter moved over next to me, with Max following behind.
“Ladies, if you all need anything tonight, please let me or my assistant know, and we’ll get you taken care of. It was nice meeting you.”
He lightly touched Lauren on the back of the shoulder as he said that last line, then he walked off. She glanced over at me, clearly annoyed by it. Dieter chuckled as he linked his arms with ours.
“Come on ladies, let’s go check out the VIP area and join the festivities.”
As we walked down the hallway, the loud thumping of the music grew louder while the lights grew dimmer. We walked through the doorway into a cordoned off area that opened to the stage. There were twenty or so people milling around the area. Some leaned in closely to chat over the music while they sipped on drinks, others were dancing. The right wall was lined with couches. There were high top bistro tables dispersed around the perimeter. The left side was lined with a metal railing that overlooked the crowd of dancers down below.
A server brought us some drinks as we stood around and chatted. Max was introduced a short time later to excited screams, then the party started. Once the three of us were a couple of drinks in, we started to loosen up a little and have a good time. Dancing to the music while we watched Max do his thing.
Soon after the show started, Anna and some guy came over to chat with us. I watched her reach into her purse and pull out a baggie of pills. She held it up in the air as she shook it to offer some to us all. Lauren and I were a little shocked about her nonchalance. Dieter gave her an annoyed look and shook his head no. She yelled, “Suit yourself,” as she took one and handed the baggie to the guy standing beside her. He took one too. She looked annoyed as they walked off and started distributing the substance to anyone who wanted it. Clearly, I was getting a full taste of his world this evening.
Dieter leaned into Lauren and I, “Sorry about that. Just ignore them and watch your drinks.”
We both nodded in agreement with wide eyes. I had honestly never experienced something like that, and to see it happen so freely was a little jarring. I had guessed this was the lifestyle that he was attempting to leave behind, but to see it was a whole other thing.
As the night went on, we continued to drink and enjoy ourselves but also kept away from the others. They were getting a little too wild for our liking. When Max would take breaks, he spent them with us and shamelessly flirted with Lauren. She was having none of it. She was nice, but ignored his advances, which seemed to spur him on more. It was comical to watch. I still found it odd that she wasn’t even entertaining the idea, because he was a good-looking guy.
Around ten, I noticed Lauren stepping aside to look at her phone. She came back and let me know she was going to head out because she had to open the shop in the morning. She said she had gotten an uber and would text me when she got home. She seemed strangely eager to get out of there. Maybe she had finally had enough of Max for the evening.
After Lauren left, Anna and a few of the others came over to Dieter and me. They were sloppy drunk and high on who knows what. They were trying to get us to dance with them. We humored them for a short time, but he got annoyed at how handsy they were being because it was clearly making me uncomfortable. The first chance he got, he grabbed my hand and pulled me downstairs toward the crowd.
“Is it ok to be down here? Won’t people bother you?” I yelled at him over the music.
“Na, probably not. It’s too dark and everyone is pretty wasted,” he yelled back with a smile.
We went over to the bar to get another drink. He finished his off quickly and said he was going to run to the bathroom. I waited at the bar while I worked on my drink. It didn’t take long for some random guy to come up beside me and offer to buy me another round.
“No, thanks, I’m good.” I said to him without looking in his direction.
“Aww come on sweetheart, you’re not even going to give me a chance here?”
At this point, I turned toward him. I put on my “fucking scary” face for full effect. “No, because I’m not interested.”
He leaned back slightly, looking surprised, but his confidence didn’t waiver.
“I promise I can make it worth your time.” He gave me a cocky grin, like that was supposed to do something for me.
I gave him a sarcastic smile, “I’m going to say this as plainly as I can. FUCK. OFF. Or else you're gonna get your throat punched.”
I could see Dieter in my periphery. He had heard me and was laughing.
The guy in front of me looked a little rattled. Clearly that wasn’t the response he was expecting. He sat frozen in place, unsure of what to say next.
“You can get up and leave at any time now.”
Dieter leaned against the bar behind me, wrapping his arm around my waist as he did so.
“I’d probably listen to her, friend. She’s not one you want to mess with.”
The guy's eyes widened before he dropped his head in defeat and left. We both laughed as I turned to lean my back against the bar. Dieter leaned in closely to speak into my ear. He was still leaning on the bar with one hand but set the other on my hip.
“It’s so fucking hot when you do that.”
“When I do what?”
“Lay the law down.”
I bit my lip, holding back a smile as I looked up at him. His eyes dropped to my lips briefly before meeting my eyes. He leaned in again, touching his forehead to mine.
“Come on, let’s go dance,” he said as he grabbed my hand, pulling me toward the sea of people.
As the latest round of alcohol started to hit, any inhibitions we had were slowly dissipating. This wasn’t two friends hanging out and having fun aimlessly dancing to music. This was something else. After a couple of songs passed, our bodies merged and moved as one while our hips swayed to a Latin beat that was pounding through the sound system. I turned, backing into his chest as he grabbed my hips and pulled me in close against him. My head dropped back against his shoulder. He buried his face in the crook of my neck as we continued to move. I reached up, running my hand through his sweaty hair at the base of his neck and tugged it slightly. Causing him to groan into my ear. The scent of his cologne and him was all around me. All the stimuli sent my senses into overdrive, causing the familiar ache between my legs.
He grabbed my hips, turning me to face him. He slid his hands down to my ass and pulled me in close as I wrapped my arms around his neck. Our foreheads pressed together as we continued to move. He playfully leaned me backward, exposing my neck. As he did so, he rubbed his nose up the length of it, settling it next to my ear as I raised my head back up.
“How about we get outta here and go home?”
I leaned back to look him in the eye. His eyes were black with lust as he gave me a cocky grin. I smiled back and shook my head in agreement. He grabbed my hand and led me toward the staircase we had come down. As we got closer, I could see Anna standing at the top by the railing. She was looking in our direction, her face unreadable. We said our goodbyes, all the while never letting go of each other. We made our way to the back exit, where our car was waiting to take us home.
Once in the SUV, Dieter put his arm around me, pulling me in close to his side. He bent his arm up to stroke and twirl my hair as he often liked to do. I leaned my head onto his chest and rested my hand on his thigh. I used my other hand to check my phone, seeing a text from Lauren to let me know she had gotten home ok. I sent her a thumbs up emoji before locking my phone and setting it back down at my side.
“Are you hungry or anything? Do we need to stop and feed you before we go home?” He asked with humor in his voice.
I gave a small laugh, “No, we have some leftover baked spaghetti at home that sounds pretty good right now.”
“Good call,” he said with a quick nod.
As soon as we got home, I pulled my heels off and shuffled toward the kitchen. Dieter wasn’t far behind me. I pulled the leftovers out of the refrigerator as he got plates and utensils out. I scooped each of us a portion out and heated it in the microwave.
After it was heated, I sat perched on the island as I ate. Dieter stood across from me, leaning against the counter eating his. He sat his plate down to grab each of us a bottle of water. As he handed me mine, I sat my plate down to open it and take a drink. As I was putting the lid back on, I noticed he was staring at me with an amused look on his face.
“What?” I asked, a little confused.
“You have sauce all over your face.”
He moved to grab a paper towel, then came over to wipe it off, shaking his head at me as he did so. I smiled up at him in amusement. He pushed my hair back over my shoulder to make sure he had gotten it all. I turned my face away from him, exposing my neck. I felt his thumb slide down the side of my face, continuing down the length of my neck before he pulled it away. He put both of his hands on either side of my legs on the counter, leaning on it as I turned to meet his gaze. I bit my lip as I knotted my hand into the front of his shirt, pulling him to stand closer. Then I wrapped my legs around his hips, pulling him closer still. Our eyes stayed locked together as we searched each other’s faces. Each of us fighting the magnetic pull but losing. I felt the light touch of his fingertips on my bare thighs as they slowly worked their way upwards, pausing just below the hem of my dress.
We both sat frozen as he pressed his forehead to mine. Our breathing started to speed up while we danced around taking it further. Both of us were reluctant to close the distance between us. Knowing that if we did, everything would change. I felt his hands flatten out and slide around the sides of my thighs, gripping them somewhat tightly, then he stopped his movements. He pulled back slightly, looking me directly in the eye. Our lips were inches apart. He reached up to cup my cheek as I tightened my grip on his shirt and inhaled deeply.
“Fuck it.”
A/N: So, who do we think finally broke here? It could go either way really. I think it's pretty obvious that the next chapter is going to be a little smutty. 😉
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Writing Gabriel Agreste
One of my pet peeves in Miraculous Ladybug fanfics is people writing Gabriel Agreste as extremely physically abusive. Not just physically abusive though, going all the way straight to extreme physical harm with no buildup. Your normal abuser doesn’t go from cold and neglectful to putting you in a choke hold or breaking your arm. It’s more of a slow build than that.
One of the strengths of Miraculous Ladybug is that Gabriel Agreste is an abusive jerk, certainly, but I can also completely understand and sympathize with why Adrien won’t just run away when he has a chance and even defends his father. I can see the gradual build up of abuse, and those small moments that make Adrien want to stay, to believe that there is hope for him and his father to have a happy relationship.
For ALL of his MANY, MANY flaws, Gabriel does have a few small moments of kindness. He sits Adrien down and watches a movie with him (after throwing him off a building). He puts some of Adrien’s childish scribbles in his office (which he destroys in a calculated move in the Collector). He lets Adrien go to school (and threatens to pull him out in order to get what he wants regularly).
For Gabriel, his abuse is more emotional and neglectful. I don’t get the feeling that he’s being an abuser because the writers want him to be an abuser (which is sadly common). He has “reasons” and “justifications”. He’s busy fixing his family. Adrien will understand. Adrien may be sad, but he’s always been overemotional. All of what he’s doing will be worth it in the end.
But its not. It’s not worth it. He’s a toxic person, and people are showing more and more signs of just being done with it all as the show goes on. Unfortunately, because he IS an abuser -and thankfully, it is something that a lot of the fandom realizes-, it CAN be tempting to completely take the abuse too far too fast for it to seem realistic.
If you do start to write Gabriel, I find it helpful to keep a list of all current transgressions and Gabriel’s internal justications. Some of the ones he’s voiced in canon are: “Adrien is just too emotional” “I’m doing what’s best for this family” “I just need to know” “It’s your fault I thought [x]” “It’s a risk, but I have this under control” “I’m keeping you safe” “I’m doing this because you didn’t behave right”. Make sure with each new transgression, you ask yourself, does this fit with the others?
Make sure any new escalation isn’t TOO big a jump, and typically has a (disproportionate) reason. New security measures? Something is making Gabriel anxious. Financial abuse? Adrien is simply too young to worry about these things. He just doesn’t have the real world experience to not make excuses. Physical harm? Start small and work your way up. Yes, Gabriel accidentally let marks on Adrien grabbing him and dragging him, but really, he should’ve listened. Or have the physical just be a means to get the reaction he wants. Non-consensual drugging, sleep deprivation, food restrictions.
Always remember, he is keeping control over Adrien. If he goes too fast or goes too strong, Adrien will freak out and run. Adrien’s good at justifying things, but he’s not stupid enough to just go “Oh my dad throwing me off a building is just a bad coping strategy”. Gabriel, deep down, knows it. So, I also find it helpful to keep a list of possible Adrien justifications to keep myself in check.
Yes, Adrien can get fed up and leave anyways, but if I can’t think of an Adrien justication with all the other behavoirs in mind, it’s too fast. If it’s only just a little worse than something Adrien’s handeled before though, he’ll handle it again. Or if he thinks that no one will believe that something is a bad thing.
Of course, there is one exception. If Gabriel’s prepping to akumatize his son, then he’ll go for the throat fast and hard to overwhelm his son with maximum fear, shock, confusion, and betrayal. It does make for a powerful weapon. Unfortunately, as Chat Blanc has shown us, it’s only too powerful sometimes.
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Photo
(On the left side)
STARFLEET SERVICE RECORD #72-6359211
(Under the image)
(something I can’t make out)
2375-2379 Security Officer, Starbase 38, 2375-2379
2375-2(three other numbers I can’t read) Analyst, Romulan Affairs, Starfleet Headquarters
(In the center)
NAME: CMDR. RAFFAELA E. MUSIKER
A/K/A: Raffi
SERIAL NUMBER: CG-1256-8345
PLANET OF ORIGIN: Earth
SPECIES: Human
DATE OF BIRTH: 4/9/2353
HEIGHT: 1.75 m
WEIGHT: 54.4 kg
SEX: F
EYES: Brown
HAIR: Brown
MAJOR FIELD OF STUDY: Intelligence
MINOR FIELD OF STUDY: Romulan Relations
MEDALS AND COMMENDATIONS:
Starfleet Decoration of Valor and Gallantry, 2385*
Starfleet Medal of Honor, 2399
(On the right side)
Romulan Rescue Armada under construction (something - shape? Sharp? Neither of those words make sense in context but it looks like that). Over 52,000 Federation citizens were killed in this attack. After this destruction the Romulan evacuation efforts ceased. Picard and Musiker presented a plan to use modified ships and Starfleet resources to continue the Romulan evacuation, a plan which relied on Synthetic labor. This request was denied by Starfleet Command, and Admiral Picard resigned in protest.
(A title I cannot read, but I think the last word is “conflict”, something conflict)
Musiker claimed that the Tal Shiar and other apocryphal splinter groups such as the “Zhat Vash” and “Conclave of Eight” were behind a plot to hack the rogue Synthetics. Her requests for resources to investigate this theory were denied, and she became increasingly paranoid, obsessive and combative. She disobeyed orders from commanding officers on 27 separate occasions and committed 13 court-martial level offences, including but not limited to: commandeering a ship; child endangerment; hacking Starfleet Intelligence databases of Romulan contacts; appearing at work intoxicated; and stalking Admiral Janeway.
OFFICIAL RESPONSE
Musiker’s erratic behavior indicated a paranoid nervous breakdown. She was ordered to compulsory drug rehabilitation and psychotherapy on Betazed.
OUTCOME
After one year of treatment there was no sign of improvement, and Musiker asked to be dishonorably discharged. She chose to quit the drug rehabilitation program and return to Earth.
UPDATE
Since these events, it has come to light that Cmdr. Musiker was in fact correct about covert Romulan groups being responsible for the Synth hack and attack on Mars. She has been reinstated by Starfleet, and all demerits and courts-martial have been wiped from her record.
Cmdr. Musiker has been awarded the Starfleet Medal of Honor for commitment to the truth in the face of great opposition.
PATIENT PSYCH EVALUATION #98-5847383
Generally good-natured, the patient displays extroverted tendencies, but when it came to personal details, the patient remained highly guarded and was reluctant to share facts about her experiences or certain individuals in her life. Her deflections were usually paired with her sharp, sardonic wit. However, it observed that this wit is often reflected inward, peppered with self-deprecating remarks. It was only after I presented this theory of patterned deflections to the patient that I saw a marked improvement in her openness. From this, the patient admitted she is currently single and estranged from her son and granddaughter. She expressed a deep regret regarding these relationships. It is clearly something she hopes to remedy in the future. She also became open about what might be holding her back from reconciliation with her family, which included an admission to a history of substance abuse.
The patient’s substance abuse evolved from her reliance on stimulants during the final years of her active duty. Following her discharge, the abuse became worse and led to the fracture of her family relationships. Though presently clean, from her history, the patient suffers from stress-induced substance abuse and is certainly at risk for relapse should her condition not be monitored.
RECOMMENDATION
Recommended for active duty upon the condition that the patient continue with regular drug tests and regular meeting with a Starfleet-appointed therapist.
(Popping up on the screen)
DISHONORABLE DISCHARGE
Paranoid, obsessive, and combative.
13 court-martial level offences.
SUBSTANCE ABUSE
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Thoughts on voluntary institutionalization? Do you hold similar views on them as you do involuntary holds, or do you think they can be beneficial?
My issue with psych wards is how the structure of a psych ward is inherently set up to enable violence and violations of autonomy, and how the mental health system is created out of flawed ideas about health and illness that create barriers to healing and prevent mad/mentally ill/ neurodivergent people from actually getting care and support. I don't think that psych wards should exist, because the logic that they operate under--one that places a false idea of safety above literally everything else--enables the abuses that are commonplace in psychiatric institutions. I think we need to radically rethink the way we approach crisis stabilization and higher levels of support, and I don't think that can be done just by reforming psych wards into a place that is the exact same structure, but everyone is there voluntarily. We have to move beyond psych institutions into liberatory alternatives, and reforms that we do advocate for should be in line with those long-term values of dismantling psychiatric incarceration.
For me, the question of voluntary hospitalization in psych wards doesn't always feel particularly relevant, because in the United States voluntary hospitalization does not actually logistically work as a safeguard against forced drugging, restraint, strip search, and the threat of incarceration. Even when you admit to a psych ward voluntarily, once you are in that space you cannot leave voluntarily if the psych professionals in charge decide they want you to stay longer. On a regular basis, I see psych professionals using involuntary hospitalization as a threat to coerce "voluntary" patients into doing what they want them to do. When you admit voluntarily, you are still in a locked ward where you can't leave without permission, and the bureaucracy of psychiatry will often make it very, very difficult to leave, even if you are aware of your legal rights. I think that voluntary hospitalization would only be a meaningful distinction if it could actually act as a safeguard against psychiatric abuse, but in practice, we can see the many ways that once you are in the psych ward, you have entered into an institution of total control.
If you as an individual are put in a position where you're being forced to choose between admitting "voluntarily" and signing that paperwork or being committed, I would personally advocate for doing everything you can to stay as a voluntary patient, because it makes a few very particular things slightly less risky. It also can have a bigger impact on your medical record if you have a history of involuntary hospitalization on there, which is often used to justify future psychiatric abuse. So on a personal level, if you're put in that position, it can be worth trying to fight to stay as a voluntary patient. But there's a lot of factors that anyone needs to consider when they are making decisions about what levels of care they need and engaging with psych hospitalization, and that's not something I can make blanket statements about. Those type of decisions are always going to depend on your individual risks and possible benefits and I can't generalize that.
I also think that an important piece of the conversation is about children and teens in psych wards, and how a lot of times they will be labeled as "voluntary" patients because their parents agreed to have them committed. That is in no way actual, meaningful informed consent to be in that space when you're a teen and have no control over whether or not you want to be there, and your parents are the ones making decisions. I think that psych hospitalization as a teen is particularly traumatic in ways that can be even worse than some adult wards, and the fact that on paper, the teens are there "voluntarily" does not do anything to change that fact.
anyway, this is kind of a long answer but to sum it up: I don't think that the status of being a "voluntary" patient in psych wards in the US really does much to act as a safeguard, and the fundamental violence of psych wards prevents that. Individual decisions about higher levels of care is always going to depend on your own risk + benefit analysis and is not something I can make general statements about.
still waking up today so please ask more clarification questions if this doesn't make sense!
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Whumptober2023 No. 3: “Like crying out in empty rooms; with no-one there except the moon.”
Journal | Solitary Confinement | “Make it stop.”
Fandom: The Wicked + The Divine
Whumptober on my ao3
tw: isolation/solitary confinement, mentions of canonical beheading (no death or mention of blood or gore), mild hints of body dysmorphia (not exactly, but Jon is disconnected from his body and is trying not to think about it and is feeling weird about it), canonical child abuse
1. You spend the first month thinking of ways to escape. Someone else would give up after the first week. But not you. You’re different - you’re not one who bends, you’re not one who breaks, you’re one who builds. You hold onto those words, even though they had been ones casually tossed out in an act of defiance against who you thought was the weirdest and least effective therapist you had ever met. You won’t break. You’re going to find a way out. If you can’t find one, you’ll build one.
2. When you sardonically ask your dad about the risk of you starving before his two years are up, he undoes the latches around your neck and for a second you stupidly think he’s going to free you. But he doesn’t. He shows you what he’s done to you and you’re glad you haven’t had anything to eat in a month or you would throw up. But your head isn’t connected to your stomach or anything, so you couldn’t do that anyway. You try not to think about it. You can’t.
3. Ananke doesn’t visit at all after that first day. Dad comes down whenever he has the chance, which isn’t often, between all the sex and drugs and whatever other bullshit he gets up to while living your life. You spend a lot of time alone with only your thoughts. In theory it’s no different to life before, but before was a choice. Now you’re trapped down with no one to talk to, and you never had many friends, but when you get out of here, you’re going to make some.
4. Seeing Dad is weird. You’re the only person who gets to see his face underneath the mask. You’re the only person who really knows him anymore. Maybe he likes that. Maybe he needs that, and that’s why he keeps coming back, taking off his mask just to chat with you. He never takes yours off, and you wonder if it makes it all easier for him. Whenever he puts the helmet on, you miss him, but you can pretend he’s someone else doing this to you. But he’s still Dad.
5. A beeping machine is the best you can do. It’s a good idea. It’s simple. It doesn’t look more or less important than anything else you’ve had to make for them, so it won’t draw their attention. That may be the downfall of your whole plan, but it’s something. It’s all you can think of. You’re scared. You’re trying. You have to keep trying. You can’t stop trying. It’s all over if you stop trying. If you give up, you’ve lost, and you can’t lose. You have to keep building.
6. You’re so tired. You don’t know how a head that doesn’t need a body to live can still get tired. You don’t know how any of this works, and you won’t stop to think about it. You don’t need to sleep, not really, but you do out of habit. That’s the benefit of not having a body, you guess, not having to get comfortable before being able to sleep. A head just needs a place to rest. You have that. You wish you could lay down. You’re so, so tired.
7. The cell is six feet long, six feet wide, and ten feet high. That’s your entire world. You used to be content just staying in your room half the day. You were never an outdoorsy kid. But you can’t even properly breathe the air in here, and you can’t move, and you can’t do anything about it. You keep trying. Every time they ask you to make something, you slip in something else that could lead someone to you. When you get out, you’re going to go to the park.
8. They could at least give you something to read. An ebook would be easy, they could just hook you up to a Kindle and you wouldn’t even need fingers to turn the pages. Or a DVD player, one of the portable ones from when you were a kid and needed entertainment in the car on the occasional day trips up north. You sometimes feel like your mind is melting from boredom, and it scares you more than staying here forever. If you don’t have your mind you don’t have anything.
9. You have to think about it. You finally stop to think about it. You consider your options. You’ve made robot armor, robot suits, you’ve built canons and mind-control machines, you’ve built things that should have been impossible outside of comic books and cartoons. You can build yourself a body when you get out of here. You start to draw up the plans in your head. They’ll be ready to go whenever you get out. It’ll be nice to build something with your hands again. When you have hands again, anyway.
10. You wonder how your mom is doing. You haven’t heard from her in years and you’d like to keep it that way. If she wanted you to miss her, she shouldn’t have left. But you still wonder. Does she know you’re missing? Does anyone? Dad pretended you had run away, he told you that, but he also told you he’d gone great lengths to "find you again". You wonder if he called your mom. You wonder if she’s worried about you. You don’t know if you want that or not.
11. You were never a violent kid. When the schoolyard bullies got you down, you fought back, but you didn’t like to. You weren’t any good at it, anyway. Now they have you building weapons. You don’t want to do it, but if someone has to do it, you’d rather it’s you, not them. You finally have a choice. You could make it right, and you do. You make cannons, lasers, a giant robot warrior, mind control machines, and you hate it as much as you’re proud of yourself for it.
12. The door cracks open. You hear voices. You recognize one of them from Ragnarok, what feels like a lifetime ago. You recognize the other from the recordings Dad has shown you. They’re the first voices besides your own and Dad’s you’ve heard in over a year, so you don’t care much when they fail to free you and they’re yelling at each other. When the Ragnarok girl undoes the latch on your neck, you feel her fingers graze your skin, and you could cry. Someone else is here with you.
#whumptober2023#no.3#solitary confinement#the wicked and the divine#fic#isolation tw#solitary confinement tw#abuse tw#beheading tw#it is but also he's alive. this series is weird.#the wicked + the divine#wicdiv#mimir wicdiv#jon blake#spirit whump#whump#emotional whump#canon whump#touch starved#rescue#comfort#isolation#tw abuse#tw isolation#too many tags......
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so this is a very good question that was posed on my RE6 jake characterization meta post i put up a few days ago:
i DO have an explanation for this and where i'm getting that inference from, but i didn't think i could fit it into reply boxes on that post and not be obnoxious with the multiple replies SO imma write up a super quick (hopefully) bonus meta thingy to go over this question!
SO jake + drugs. this is smth that i feel like gets overlooked for a few reasons (mostly bc jake is not a very popular character in the fandom + playerbase overall) but also bc RE as a series is very... well. like a lot of japanese media that's meant to be more broadly consumed, they like to imply the usage of drugs vs overtly say "this is what's happening"
in jake's intro scene, he says to a newly infected j'avo: "this stuff doing anything for you yet? supposed to be some kinda energy booster but... i don't feel any different"
as someone who, let's just say, has seen drug use lmao the entire scene is "coded," you could say. i don't really like using that terminology because it feels like a cop-out in a lot of cases, but in essence, that entire scene and set piece looks like a flop house or drug den. also, an "energy booster" that you inject...? it sounds like doping to me lmao. also, the dispenser itself it looked more like an epinephrine shot, which people do abuse for the "energy boost" that epinephrine gives.
to me, i'm looking at this scene and going "yeah okay, this entire group of mercenaries (minus jake) all huddled in this room together are really there for a vitamin B-12 supplement party." the way the other mercenaries inject the C-Virus is just like... yeah they thought they were getting free drugs lmao
but just because jake wasn't huddled in there with them all antsy for a buzz doesn't mean he didn't likely also assume it was drugs. even jake's body language speaks to me of someone who was prepared to go on a "journey" so to speak lmao. sliding down against a wall, getting relaxed, etc. it just looked like a guy who was getting ready to shoot up. he's not nervous about it. he just does it, barely any hesitation. and right in his goddamn neck too, which made me think "is he trying to get this shit working faster... why didn't he just jam it in his thigh" etc.
and the way jake says the line about it being an "energy booster" felt really forced in, like capcom's writers were like "oh shit oh no this looks like they're in a drug den shooting up or abusing epipens we gotta reinforce the fact that they totally didn't think this was drugs oh god LOOK JUST MAKE HIM AWKWARDLY STATE THAT IT'S SUPPOSED TO BE A SUPPLEMENT OR SOMETHING"
but even if we just throw ALL of that away, just look at it at face-value... who takes free "supplements" in a war-torn area where there's most certainly a lot of illicit shit going down? someone who's like "hell yeah i'll get high for free," imo
jake's behavior is risk-taking for many reasons, obviously. he's a mercenary, so that right out the gate is a "risk-taking" position lmao. but to me, someone who just... readily accepts taking a "supplement" or "energy booster" from some unknown person without being coerced into it? yeah this man's done drugs before. otherwise, he would have turned it down, right? or maybe they woulda had to hold him down to make him take it? well, they had to show that jake was immune to the C-Virus for plot reasons, and this was really the easiest way to write it in without introducing a lab environment. it makes sense for what type of character he's meant to be: outside of the law and working in a high-risk/high-reward environment.
i'll admit i was kinda taken aback the first time i played the game because i was like OH WE DOIN THIS I GUESS??? and then they slipped in the "energy booster" line, and it just reminded me of the type of shit you'd see in a dub of an anime in the 90s. like pokemon calling the rice balls "donuts." just sterilized despite it being a very obvious implication in the scene overall.
i will admit that my use of the word "addict" probs was a bit too intense for what i think jake's life experiences are, so i'll edit that out of my original post.
das what i got! thank u for ur time
#resident evil 6#resident evil#jake muller#cw: mentions of drugs#labeling this post as “mature” ig for drug use???#i'll be honest idk if that's an appropriate use of the label#but just to be safe#meta post#meta analysis#text post
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some random headcanons about pucci because i aaaaaa:
(warnings: christianity, child abuse, brief NSFW subjects)
Has a limp because of his foot, and uses a cane to walk. The cane is very fancy and looks like it could be Versace or some shit, but he actually made it himself.
Dio is more of a father figure to him than anything else. This was part of why he became so attached to Dio in the first place; he had been neglected by his parents and didn't really realize it yet. Dio, in turn, sees him as his surrogate child.
Developed PTSD and a stutter around age 19. He also ran away from home at that age, after breaking his father's nose, smacking him in the face with the heavy bible he was supposed to be studying from. He lived with various depraved people after that, until Dio found him and convinced him to go back home, despite Enrico begging to live with him. Dio explained that the two of them had similar childhoods, and tried to convince Enrico to murder his father so that Enrico's mother wouldn't incur the same fate as Dio's mother. Enrico planned it, but ultimately found he didn't have the courage.
He has DIY stick-and-poke tattoos in places that other people usually don't see (i.e. upper thigh, chest, abdomen). Though, he usually dresses to cover most of his body anyway, and people would still rarely see them even if he had some on his arms or lower legs. A few of them are:
-The logo for "A Band Called Death," a punk band, on the left side of his chest.
-Tori Amos, the musician, on his inner left arm.
-"I DON'T HAVE TO PROVE MYSELF TO YOU" in loud, angry letters on his right inner thigh, upside-down.
He was originally born in New Orleans. His parents moved to Florida when he was 6. He was extremely sheltered as a child and a young teenager, so he never really spoke to anyone else other than his parents, and thus maintained most of the accent. Wes and Perla only have a slight remnant of the dialect, but otherwise, people can't really tell where they're originally from.
Does a bit of everything in the arts. Drawing, painting, sculpting, singing, piano...
Before Dio's conquest for heaven started to possess Enrico's personality, his priesthood was largely a way for him to heal in others what he himself suffered from as a result of his childhood and adolescence. He became a prison chaplain not only to get away from his father's church, but to put his work where he believed it would do the most good.
As a prison chaplain (again, before Dio's interference), he had a mindset where he believed absolutely everyone has at least some good in them, no matter what. He would listen and extend compassion to anyone, no matter what they had done or been imprisoned for. He thought of that as one of the most fundamental parts of his job. He could go home at night and lay awake haunted by the crimes of those same prisoners, but he would still go to work the next day to hold their hands and tell them they're heard.
Almost never smiles or laughs, or is even in the mood to. The first time Dio saw him laugh, he was actually a bit stunned, and would say "it was like seeing the sun break through the clouds for the first time in over a hundred years."
He's known he was queer ever since his time being sheltered as a kid, but he didn't specifically realize he was gay until he ran off at 19.
When he ran away, he went to do "everything that would horrify his father," but none of it was in any safe way whatsoever. Unprotected sex, shared needles, living with terrible people, mixing drugs and alcohol, etc. Being very repressed and uninformed because of his parents' beliefs, he didn't know the extent of the risks -- not that he would have cared at the time.
Becoming a prison chaplain instead of remaining a clerical figure at his father's church probably saved him a great deal from the wrath of the Christian community in his parents' town, considering he has always been incredibly rebellious for a "Catholic" priest.
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