#WOULD SOMEONE PLEASE SEDATE ME HOLY FUCK

[sentientsky]

rewatching hell bent and feeling soooooooooo normal haha

[katsy-kitty]

holy shit I just did so much cleaning

I know my body will hate me tomorrow

I'll probably have to do heavy resting for the next few days

but I'm also proud of myself

but I have also entered my verbose era

and I don't know how to stop

it's 3:30 am and I'm still so hyper

if I don't fall asleep again, it's gonna be a bit of a problem

I don't like these insomnia bouts

[mirrorball-leclerc]

the blue - part six

masterlist previous next

amelia holland WHY IS SINGAPORE SO FUCKING HUMID???

sam holland YOU'RE IN FUCKING SINGAPORE?? YOU WERE ONLY HOME FOR A WEEK BEFORE FLYING OFF TO ANOTHER FUCKING COUNTRY!! THE WHOLE POINT OF YOU NOT TOURING WAS FOR YOU TO BE HOME??

amelia holland BUT MY MAN IS IN SINGAPORE??

sam holland YOUR MAN?? WHO THE FUCK IS YOUR MAN??

amelia holland lewis hamilton duh

harry holland she's so real for that tuwaine barrett that's a mood

harrison osterfield are you officially dating oscar yet?

tom holland why do you want to know? you have a girlfriend.

harrison osterfield not anymore. we broke up.

zendaya oh for fucks sake.

amelia holland i am. i have been since monza.

harrison osterfield oh. never thought he was your type.

amelia holland and what did you think my type was? you?

sam holland WOAH WHAT? AM I THE ONLY ONE WHO DOESN'T KNOW WHAT THE FUCK IS HAPPENING BETWEEN THOSE TWO? tuwaine barrett god sam, get with the program. harrison played with your sister's heart. cheated on his girlfriend with her, emotionally, for months. listen to the love is embarrassing ep to get it. sam holland HE'S THE WEIRD SECOND STRING LOSER? HARRISON WHEN I FUCKING CATCH YOU IT ON SIGHT BITCH!

tom holland YOU'RE OFFICIALLY DATING OSCAR?? OH MY GOD FUCKING FINALLY!

harry holland SHE'LL FINALLY STOP TELLING US ABOUT HER STUPID CRUSH!

amelia holland DON’T TELL MUM! I WANT TO TELL HER MYSELF!

tuwaine barrett BABY HOLLAND FINALLY GOT A BOYFRIEND!! THIS IS CAUSE FOR CELEBRATION!

sam holland DO NOT ENCOURAGE THIS TUWAINE!

tom holland STOP ACTING LIKE YOU DON'T LIKE THE GUY!

SINGAPORE 2023

ameliaholland posted new stories

singapore, you're great but why are you humid?? i'm dying over here.

spotted at a restaurant in singapore. will this be the week red bull loses? god i hope so. sorry max, i still love you, please don't hate me.

singapore, you're beautiful.

oscaroo! have some decency man!

ameliaholland posted new stories

if anyone spots this loser please tell him we got lost. we need help getting back to the hotel and we don't fucking know the name of the hotel!!

BESTIE GOT P2!! LANDO'S ON THE PODIUM! (not congratulating carlos because he thinks he's lando's bestie, clearly it's me)

WOAH! THAT'S MY BESTIE!!! LET'S FUCKING GO!!!

JAPAN 2023

amelia holland HOLY SHIT! HOLY SHIT! GUESS WHO'S IN FUCKING JAPAN??

tom holland daniel?

amelia holland SEBASTIAN VETTEL! I GET TO MEET SEBASTIAN FUCKING VETTEL!!! OH MY GOD! SOMEBODY SEDATE ME!!

sam holland WHAT THE FUCK!! SOMEONE GET ME FUCKING TICKETS TO SUZUKA! I HAVE TO BE THERE!

tom holland LIFE ISN'T FAIR!!

zendaya you three truly are children.

amelia holland IT'S SEBASTIAN FUCKING VETTEL Z!! HE'S A LEGEND! THE ONLY THING THAT WOULD TOP THIS WOULD BE MEETING MICHAEL SCHUMACHER!!

harry holland you can meet his son? mick? he's mercedes reserve driver

amelia holland OH MY GOD YOU'RE RIGHT!!

harrison osterfield are you going to end up dating mick too?

tom holland dude, what the fuck?

amelia holland no because i'm not you. i don't cheat on my significant others asshole.

tuwaine barrett YOU'RE MEETING SEBASTIAN VETTEL??

tuwaine barrett also, what the fuck harrison?? stop being a fucking dick??

tuwaine barrett you weird second string loser

harry holland FOUL!!! get you're fucking shit together osterfield. hop off my sister's dick.

zendaya anyways, tell the boys i say good luck this week!

amelia holland lando just let out the most unholy screech i've ever heard because and i quote "zendaya fucking coleman just wished us good luck."

amelia holland charlie is being salty because he wasn't wished good luck by zendaya.

harrison osterfield charlie?

tom holland i wish him luck!

amelia holland he says he'll blame you if he ends up lower than 5th.

tom holland WHAT THE FUCK? I THOUGHT WE WERE FRIENDS??

amelia holland GET YOUR OWN FRIENDS TOM!

tuwaine barrett GOOD LUCK TO MCLAREN THIS WEEK!

ameliaholland whoever said i would cry when oscaroo got his first podium, you were fucking right. enjoy the close up of me crying after i saw it happen.

view all comments

username girl we all knew this was going to happen. you cried in japan when lando got p2

↳ username not to mention she cried when she met seb

↳ ameliaholland okay no need to call me out guys i get it.

tomholland2013 YEAH! GO OSCAR!

↳ username we love a supportive brother-in-law!

landonorris you straight up bawled your fucking eyes out. charles was concerned you were going to be dehydrated.

charles_leclerc i expect this sort of enthusiasm when i get a win or podium

↳ ameliaholland honestly just get a p3 with that fucking tractor and i'll cry tears of happiness for you.

zendaya i believe i am the reason for this

↳ oscarpiastri i think you are, please keep sending good vibes our way

↳ landonorris we couldn't let you down

↳ username WE ARE THRIVING HERE AT MCLAREN BECAUSE THE ZENDAYA SENT GOOD VIBES OUR WAY

mclaren admin is worried, are you okay ms.holland?

↳ ameliaholland i'm fine, oscar gave me a bunch of water

samholland1999 ROOKIE OF THE YEAR! (sorry logan)

↳ logansargeant no i get it, i have him saved as rookie of the year on my phone (i lost a dare)

↳ ameliaholland i told you not to bet against me and here you are looking like an idiot on my instagram comments

↳ username i want to know what this bet was

tuwaine YEAH! WHO KNEW SENDING GOOD VIBES MCLAREN'S WAY WOULD LEAD TO THIS?

ameliaholland posted a new story

seen by hazosterfield, landonorris, logansargeant and others

uber driver 10/10

¡leclerc-s speaks! VEGAS QUALI HERE WE GO! (i am not excited for this)

¡disclaimer! this is in no way making assumptions about the people involved in this story, this is all fake. it is a fanfiction please don't take any of what is said seriously. this is all for entertainment purposes and as a creative outlet for me. enjoy!

[atlasshrugd]

My thoughts on Bridgerton Season 3 Part 1 (Spoilers)

Hi guys! I have reached astounding levels of brainrot over this season (having rewatched Polin scenes until I am blue in the face) so here I am going to air my thoughts out in probably an incoherent manner. Thank you!

Off the bat:

. Amazing, stunning, beautiful chemistry. Nicola and Luke are really the fucking MVPs. Their chemistry is undeniable to the point where I NEED MORE. It kind of seems like they didn't have enough scenes together, but maybe it just felt that way because of all the other plotlines going on.

. Speaking of plotlines, I am sorry to say that I found all of them unnecessary and dull. I just wanted more Polin, I couldn't stand the Featherington drama, Mondrich drama, Queen drama, or even Bridgerton drama. Francesa's story was probably the most significant, but I felt it was still very dull!

. However, that won't turn me off from loving this season because I have been waiting EONS for Polin to get together! Someone needs to sedate me!

. LET'S TALK ABOUT COLIN "MANWHORE" BRIDGERTON. I have to say that while I was with everyone else when the news broke and hated the idea, I honestly did not mind it. I found it a good and impactful way to show the difference between meaningless sex vs actual intimacy and love. I liked that Colin was exploring himself and thinking he had to be more "manly" like society dictates, but that his genuine and deep connection with Pen (literally his only real friend aside from his siblings) made that pale in comparison. I LOVED how he was trying to get it off at the brothel but couldn't even GET IT UP when having a threesome. That made me laugh! I was like DAMN girl Penelope you did a number on this man. He is Colin "17 cities" Bridgerton yet ONE kiss from a virgin is enough to turn his world upside down and make him question everything he knows???? Hmmm yeah more of that please.

. Oh, carriage scene. If I loved you less I might be able to talk about you more. I can only say that I've broken my rewind button. It’s got CRACK in it. COLIN'S FACE when he realizes that THIS is the woman I will devote myself to for the rest of my life. He is done with his gallivanting ways and wants to literally just be with one woman for the rest of his life. I feel like without his promiscuous ways and bravado in the earlier episodes, this realisation would not hit as hard. It's no longer just the puppy love that he had with Marina, or the vacant lust he had with other women on his travels, but a true, real, meaningful connection that makes him LOSE HIS MIND. I like that that distinction is VERY clear and leaves no room for doubt that he is CHOOSING her.

. I love that he is “experienced” and that she isn't, but she’s able to bring him to his knees with one kiss! That dynamic is always tea, I fear! Also, I LOVE that my girl Penelope is able to get her needs met by someone who KNOWS what he’s doing. I don’t know what people are saying by “they have no chemistry.” To me, they have chemistry falling out of their ass!

. That being said, I am so scared about the LW reveal!! Holy shit, they are engaged and she still hasn't told him!! Which is different in the books. But LW is different in the show + the Marina thing didn't happen in the books. However, I love that they made LW less scathing in this season. She actually compliments all the debutantes and is really more of a reporter over a tabloid (except for that little thing she wrote about Colin, lol! But she was right!). I feel like Colin's hatred for LW is a little overstated. LW saved him from being trapped in a loveless marriage full of lies. I am shaking to see how this goes! Bring on the angst!

. I actually surprisingly liked the Cressida and Eloise friendship, I liked how it became a vehicle to show another side to Eloise, a more tolerant, compassionate, and realistic side. I loved Eloise and Pen's relationship this season. While they are fighting, they still love and try to protect each other. It's really the secondary love story of the season. We love to see it. I just hope Eloise doesn't fuck with her too much in part 2! (Btw, hate that this season is split into two parts! How am I going to wait until June 13th??? Tf???)

. Also, am I the only one thinking that they are building to Cressida having feelings for Eloise? Their connection and Cressida's sincerity towards Eloise is a little too real. I feel like by going into her stifling home life, they are inching towards that. Also, I am guessing that Cressida will end up marrying Debling, who will be gone so much and won't put any demands on her, so it will more be a marriage of practicality that allows Cressida to explore her feelings. We shall see!

. LET ME JUST SAY I SCREAMED when Penelope put her hand in Colin's hair. I remember in an interview Nicola saying that it was her idea to do that. THANK THE HEAVENS FOR THIS WOMAN !!!!! Because that was actually the hottest part of the season, there I said it. I CHEERED!! And if that was improvised by them, then that means that LUKE'S SLUTTY FACE was also his design!! I cannot thank these two enough for their service to this country!! Also, give Nicola an Oscar right now. I have never seen a more realistic sex scene and depiction of female desire tbh (oh god the moans). Especially in Bridgerton. This was the most real and sincere sex scene they've had yet. Take all the awards!

. LET'S TALK ABOUT COLIN'S FEELINGS. I've seen some people say that the season felt off (which I understand, I think it's bc of all the unnecessary plotlines) because Colin's feelings developed too fast. Let me just say that I DO NOT AGREE. I thought this was an entirely natural and logical progression of events. Think about it. We are not watching a "friends to lovers" arc from scratch. They have had TWO SEASONS of the "friend" part. We have had to watch ignorance, rejection, obliviousness, and misunderstanding between these two. Finally, in their own season, all that groundwork (laid over multiple years) has the chance to come off. It's like a spark that finally lights the embers. Their love has been smouldering under the surface for so long and all it takes is a match (their kiss) to make it spark into flame. Colin has felt so deeply for Penelope for a long time, and indeed they are best friends. He has always admired her as a woman and friend and felt comfortable with her. It wasn't until he kissed her that he realised those feelings were much more layered than he supposed. The fact that he dreams about her and that kiss, and ends up growing regretful and jealous of helping Pen attract other men, is absolutely right. The fact that he tries to get over her by going back to brothels but it DOESN'T WORK is absolutely genius! His love and desire for her, and thereby the realization of his feelings for her, is what propels him to look into himself and find that what he has been trying to be has been a lie. It's in that scene where he's with all the other Rakes. He considers himself, at heart, to be a gentleman - unlike the rest of them, and unlike what he's been presenting. He realizes that all the escapades he had only afforded him vacant experiences. He knows the difference between shallow and real connection now. This is when he decides to stop being someone he's not and embrace himself finally, just as he embraces his feelings for Pen! It's a great moment for his character development. I will be the one to say that by the realization of his feelings for Pen, he comes to the realization of himself.

. ONE MORE THING. I have seen some viewers complain about Penelope being the one to "beg" Colin to kiss her. I think these are more new fans who don't know the books, but I am TIRED of seeing this. The fact that Penelope is finally voicing her desires to the object of her desire after never speaking her mind or asking for what she wants, IS empowering! She is finally taking control of her own destiny! Unabashedly asking for what she wants! Being truthful with herself and brave enough to voice it! That is my GIRL. I was so proud of her. It was at that moment Colin knew that he was fucked (look at his face after he decides to do it). MM HM. That is good shit. I don't see her "begging" for it to be degrading. This was a beautiful moment between two close friends who trust each other more than anything. And that was the match that sparked all those repressed and ignored feelings!

. ALSO, I do not understand why people wanted Penelope to fall on her face after the carriage! WTF? Sure, in the books it’s fine, but actually seeing it??? Do they realise how humiliating and painful that would be? I’m so glad they didn’t do that in the show (and I hope it doesn’t happen in the next part). She is TINY, and do you see that huge ass gap between the carriage and the ground? If she fell, she would scrape her whole hands and face and it would be bloody. Why do people want Pen to suffer in humiliation even more?? It would not be funny.

. ACTUAL LAST THING: I actually LOVED Colin’s dream confession to Penelope, maybe as much as the carriage confession! “I’ve not been able to sleep, to eat, to speak…these days. My entire thoughts consumed by our kiss, by you.” I just loved Luke’s delivery of these lines. Btw, that dream was horny af! 

. So, in this way, I don't really understand the complaints about Colin or Polin in this season. I thought it was very well done and well acted. The only complaint is that I needed MORE. MOREEEEE

Anyway, that's all I can think of for now. I'm afraid I have nothing to say about the other storylines because I was resisting the urge to skip them the whole time. My heart lies with Polin and that's what I am focusing on. Thank you for reading!

[callsign-marlie]

Acts of Service (18+)

pairing: bradley "rooster" bradshaw x wife!reader warning: 18+ (minors dni!!!), unedited, porn with plot, switching perspective, bradley's an ass man, massage, f-feet for a line?, oral (f receiving), reader gets the softest ride of her life, unprotected s3x (please wrap it before you tap it), face down ass up that's the way we like to fUCK, dog tag kink, creampie finish summary: a stressful day leaves rooster's hardworking wife in need of a massage. she's lucky rooster's got the "magic touch" to make all of her pain disappear. a/n: @mandoowhorian wanted Rooster the Ass Man™ giving back shots and i am a simple woman, who am i to deny? HAVE A WHOLE ASS (pun intended!) FIC, CONGRATULATIONS FOR GETTING MY BRAINWORM STIMULATED.

--- Rooster liked to think he's a kind man. He donated to charity, helped little old ladies cross the street and even volunteered some time at the local children's hospital to read stories to the kids there. He found joy in helping others feel better. Seeing a smile on someone else's face because of a simple gesture he did made him feel incredibly warm inside. Yes, it was fulfilling, yet no act of kindness compared to that of helping his incredibly hardworking wife unload after a hard day. The man was whipped, much to Hangman's devious delight, but Rooster couldn't care less. She stumbled into his life one drunken night at the Hard Deck and has been his other half ever since. He wasn't enough of a romantic sucker to believe in love at first sight; but then, he met her. To him, she hung the moon in his sky and had since only changed his life for the better. He learned how to keep their home clean, do the laundry, hell, even cook all thanks to his incredible wife.

He found that the bare minimum made her the happiest like a surprise bouquet of flowers or making her coffee in the morning. The bar was so low on the ground, every small token of affection gave her stars in her eyes. "No one I've been with has ever been this kind to me," she had said one night, crying over a basket of goodies he had made for her to help her through a particularly bad period that left her stuck on the couch for a week. On the day of their wedding, Bradley swore into the ring he placed on her finger to do everything in his power to keep that smile on her face.

So, when his wife came home with a scowl on her lips and her brows furrowed in pain, Rooster knew what he had to do.

"Honey? You good?"

He was sweatpants clad only and was folding their laundry into piles, having gotten home from base early thanks to the forecasted thunderstorm landing a few hours before it was supposed to. Grounded and drenched, he pulled rank and took the evening off to help his wife with the chores they've both been ignoring recently: dishes, dusting, vacuuming, and conquering the dreaded Laundry Chair in the corner of their room.

She gave him a weak smile, shrugging her jacket off and shaking her wet hair out of its slicked pony tail. "Yeah, yeah, I'm ok. Just really sore after today."

Bradley took his time folding down a pair of her scrubs and was careful not to crease them. "A patient gave you a fight huh?"

"Yeah, and the patient was in the form of a chunky, 140 pound Bernese Mountain Dog who didn't wanna be sedated for his teeth extraction."

She went down on the living room floor in all fours, spreading her arms out above her head to a modified child's pose. Her arms were long outstretched above her and a tiny expanse of her low back was revealed under her folding scrub top. His eyes travelled further up and Bradley just couldn't take his eyes off that ass.

Holy hell, was he a lucky man.

Rooster loved every ounce of his wife even before they got married, but he was so incredibly glad that she had been putting on some weight recently. Why? One, because he knew he was feeding her well and two, because it all somehow ended up going to that glorious, incredible ass. She would complain all the time that she was 'eating too good, her scrubs were getting tight', and had to do little jumping squats to try to squeeze into them. The image didn't stop Bradley imagining her riding on top of him with her cheeks smacking against the top of his thighs.

She let out a tiny, muffled groan. "God, that's the stuff."

"You want a massage? It might make you feel a little better," Bradley said, tossing one of her lacy thongs on top of the underwear pile.

"Mmhmmm, please baby, that'd be wonderful," his goddess muttered, rolling herself over onto her back. Her hair was damp down to her shoulders, her smile angelic and her arms were crossed over top of her head. What he wouldn't do to pin those hands above her and kiss his way down her body, feel her skin heat up under his lips and hear the most holy of moans fall from her lips...

Stop. This isn't about you, Rooster.

He helped her sit up and removed her tight scrub top. He caught a pretty pink blush crested her cheeks at her sudden nakedness left in only her bra. He ghosted a small kiss on the tip of her nose. "It gives me better access. Get on the couch."

He took each laundry pile and placed them precariously on the freshly vacuumed floor. She took her position on the couch, chest pressed provocatively into the velour. She crossed her ankles in the air to show Rooster the tops of her feet and perfect manicured toes. The brat tossed him a wicked little wink over her shoulder. He grinned just as fiendishly, forcing her feet down to sit on the back of her thighs and gave her a teasing spank on the bum. The flesh rippled beneath the fabric of the lycra and he could imagine the gentle pink blooming on her skin.

"Enough of that, you little minx! Here, put the pillow under your hips."

She let him guide the throw under her, her lower back letting out a satisfying pop at the induced flexion. "Ohhhh my god, I sound like a glow stick," she muttered, her face flopping to the sofa in defeat. "I'm all ready for you, baby. Just... just make the hurt go away"

Bradley rubbed his palms together to warm them before letting them dust across the surface of her skin. "You know I give good massages, right?"

She shivered at the touch, letting out a small chuckle. "Only if you consider good massages feeling like a train running over my spine!"

Bradley sat up straight on his knees, hands on his hips. "Now Mrs. Bradshaw, that wasn't very nice! You hurt my feelings!"

"Just telling it as is, Lieutenant Bradshaw. You can fly a plane well, but you didn't really luck out in the hand dexterity department." She turned around to put her face on her hand, elbow propped under the sofa cushion. "You have yet in our year of marriage to convince me of these rumored 'magic fingers' of yours."

He laughed out loud, "Oh really now? Just you wait then, Mrs. B. Be back in a flash."

He scooted off the couch to rush to the bathroom, grabbing the rose oil that she liked to use after her baths. It was a thicker liquid and the smell was quite intoxicating: definitely his favorite scent on her. Plus, the shine it gave her legs after using it was his absolute favorite.

He hopped back into his position on the couch and rubbed a bit of the sticky liquid between his palms. The oil conducted his body heat and he rubbed the soothing musk over the tops of her shoulders. Immediately, she relaxed into a mewl.

"Ohhh, the rose oil. Now show me the magic, baby."

"Yes ma'am," he replied, gently working the fluid into her skin. The shine that rose out gave her a sparkling hue under the standing lamp. He rubbed slowly and deeply under her shoulder blades, making sure to press out all of the small knots that crinkled under the bone. She was breathing deeply, definitely enjoying the pressure and the smells that surrounded her.

"Mmm, lower please," she moaned. Bradley spotted a small drool spot near the corner of her mouth. "How are the magic fingers treating you, baby?" His voice was soft, the tinking of the pouring rain outside louder than he was. He was leaned over her form, putting pressure on the apex of her shoulders to smooth the muscles outside to her arms.

"You have a little more to do before I can give a proper review," she grinned, moving her hair to the side away from the oil. "Keep it up and you may get a prize."

Bradley continued to work, reapplying the oil to his hands a few times before he escaped to her lower back. He pressed a particularly tender point and she seized up for a moment. He backed off quickly. "Oh jesus, I'm sorry, you ok?"

"Y-Yeah," she sputtered, lifting her head to look behind at him. Her eyes were still glazed over in bliss. "Just... go a little gentler. 'Makes my legs hurt when you push there."

"Your legs too?" Bradley questioned, raising an eyebrow. "I have no problems massaging them as well. But, you have to take these pants off if you want the luxury assessment."

His wife groaned, attempting to loop her fingers through the front of her elastic waist band, but gave up quickly. "You gotta do it. I feel like jelly."

Bradley chuckled and shook his head, fingers pulling back the material to reveal the prize he craved the most. Her skin was gorgeous and hugged dangerously to the curve of the pretty gemstone blue thong that graced the top of her hip bones. He pulled the pants down just to the top of her thighs, reapplying his oil before getting to work.

The soft flesh of her ass kneaded into his palm. Her little moans were just too cute; he wanted to hear more. He moved down to the crest of her ass and cupped it gently, giving it another pass with the oil. "How's that?" "Sooo goooooood," she drawled, wiggling her ass between his fingers so it slid off the oil. Holy fuck.

"You have no idea how tasty that ass looks right now," he blurted, taking his time to scoop his fingers along the sides of her hips. "And I'm starving, baby. I could eat you alive."

His love sucked in a breath from the bottom of the couch. He could feel her feet rubbing together behind him. She was trying not to let him see her squirm. "O-oh yeah? We haven't eaten dinner yet though," she whimpered, the tension at the sides of her hips melting with each pass of his calloused digits.

"Fuck dinner, we're going right to dessert."

Rooster slid down the back of her thighs, his teeth nipping at the supple skin of her ass. She let out a strangled moan, the pressure from his mouth sending shivers up her spine. His cool dog tags dangled precariously off of his neck, hitting the back of her thigh with every sudden movement forward. His wife made every attempt to slither forward away from his grasp, but he held her tightly in place. A hard slap ricocheted of her skin, leaving her gasping out loud.

"B-Bradley!"

"Don't move," he growled. He was a predator now. His pupils bled dark and zeroed in on the skimpy, dampened fabric between her legs. The beautiful blue had turned a deep navy in the matter of minutes. Rooster let his fingers run along the silken material, his wife attempting to hide another whimper from his ears.

"Let me hear it," he muttered, his other hand working the muscle of her thighs. "Let me hear you."

Bradley couldn't see her face, but he knew she was flushed and panting. "I-I want..." she started, completely fumbling through her words. His fingers were dragging lazy, slow circles around her clothed clit, the fingers of his other hand still working down, down, down towards the back of her knee. "Hmmm?"

"Your mouth!" she blurted. "Fuck, I need your tongue in my pussy, Bradley, please."

He parted the fabric to the side and without a word swiped a single lick up her pussy. The moan that came from her was a release in itself; he could hear her smile through the sound. His left hand worked to spread apart her ass to give him better access. He dove in deep, her taste salty and sweet all at the same time. Two fingers from his right came around to circle her bud again and her hips struggled against the pillow propped under her hips.

"Oh my god," she cried, her wobbling wrists doing their best to support her weight. She was arching back into him now, attempting to rock against his face at the sensation.

"Delicious," he muttered through her slick. "And all for me. What a treat."

His mouth returned to biting while he let two fingers take place of his tongue. She cried out in rapture, her walls rippling around him the moment he slid them home. The heat coming off of her was intense enough that sweat rippled down the side of her forehead. She mewled and bucked in spasm as he continued his slow languid movements to fuck her through her surprise release. In and out... In... and... out.

"How'd that feel?" He mused, kissing up her spine, from the top of her tail bone up to the side of her neck. She let out a groan at his weight pressing on her, her eyebrows still knitted together at the pleasure. "M-More, Roo. I need more."

"More?" he crooned, his dog tags raking themselves against the sweat of her shoulder blades. "What a greedy little thing you are. You want more, yet I've been the one doing all the work. You take and take and don't return the favor, huh?"

She keened as his fingers suddenly quickened inside her pussy, his fingers gently pulling apart her walls, preparing her for the main event. "But that's completely fine honey," he whispered to her. He left a gentle kiss on her temple, the salt of her sweat delightful on his tongue. "Tonight's all about you. I'll take care of you, baby. I'll take care of you, you deserve it."

But just like that, his fingers were gone.

The overwhelming sense of emptiness overtook her as his weight left her back. She whimpered out loud, readjusting her body so her arms were holding up her chest. The spittle that hung from the side of her mouth should have been embarrassing, but she couldn't do anything to stop it from continuing to pool in her mouth. The man made her come so hard, she saw stars just from his fingers going inside her.

Before she knew what had happened, his hips were up against the ridges of her ass. Rooster had returned in all of his glory, stark naked by the feeling of the velvet smoothness of his cock rubbing languidly against her ass cheeks. Her head sunk back lower on her hands, forcing the arch up in her back to bare herself whole to him. He groaned in appreciation at the sight, a finger scooping some of her essence from her entrance.

The rose oil lit over her skin to make her sweet sweat stand out even more. She was glowing; a rose herself. Bradley couldn't help but let his cock rest between her ass cheeks, rubbing slowly up and down, up and down. Her slick gave him the perfect lubricant to rub between her skin. The feeling was divine.

"Holy fuck," he drawled, his head leaning back. Both hands had come back to squeeze the sides of her ass together, encasing his already hard cock in the silky heat. He could hear her little mewls underneath him, obviously the grazing of his skin against her cunt causing its own reaction to her. "You feel amazing, baby. Just incredible."

Rooster paused for a just a moment, pulling back completely before teasing the tip into her pussy. She groaned at the feeling of the thick head making way, whimpered at the pause, and felt like crying as it left her. He was so close, she was about to beg for him to just fucking take her already. He ground himself in between her ass cheeks for a few strokes again before plunging back in, this time just a bit deeper.

Every pass he'd enter deeper and deeper, her moans getting louder and more egregious. Bradley preened at the effect he had on his wife. She was a stunning, incredible beauty and only reacted this way to him. A feeling like this could get to his head.

He let his cock in all the way finally, the warmth and squeezing of her walls caused him to double over on top of her. His dog tags jingled down off of his chest to rest in the valley of her spine. He placed gentle kisses on the back of her neck; a job well done for taking him in so well. She raised her head gently in thanks, smiling up at her husband. "Want you to move, Roo," she whimpered. "Want all of you right now."

Who was he to deny such a beautiful plea?

Rooster rocked his hips gently at first, nice and slow to savor each drag of his cock against her walls. He pulled out to the tip before plunging back into the comfort of her cunt. She had keened at every thrust, the pleasure boiling inside of her stomach to a rumble. He took his hands and gently wrapped them under her chin, leaving soft kisses in her hair. Her ass bounced off of his stomach, the sound of skin on skin echoing against the pitter patter of rain on their window pane.

His wife didn't need to be fucked tonight. No, she needed to be loved. She needed to be cared for softly, gently, as if she was a piece of glass. God, he would let her know how he felt for her just by making love her her on this one night. He felt like no word he ever said was good enough to express how much he adored her. Every thrust was a love note, ever kiss was a sonnet. It would solidify every word of love and passion he had ever said. He meant every. Damn. Word.

"Mmm gonna," she whined, her eyes opening to face him. She was wanton and lovely, the flush on her cheeks extending down to the front of her chest. So beautiful, like a Renaissance painting with warm hues and lace. "Gonna come again. Baby, baby," she babbled, the word the only thing left in her head. Baby. He embraced her around her chest, just under her breasts to hold her tight to his chest. She fluttered around him, her breath stalling for a moment before she took large gasps beneath him.

He shushed her and gently rocked his hips to work her slowly through her second orgasm of the night. "Oh sweetheart," he cooed, his hands drifting down her upper back to press a little on her shining muscles again. "You're so good for me honey. You're the greatest thing that has ever happened to me, I love you so much."

She nodded quietly, still unscrambling her brain through the spasms, her breathing ragged.

The sight of his cock, pulling in and out of her weeping pussy, made him move again. His eyes were dissecting each movement: each ridge of his cock disappearing inside of her, the pull of her labia against his skin, the subtle sponge of her inner walls. He picked up his pace, watching the way that she devoured him whole. Every drive forward was met by her still-greedy pussy with the same burning intention. Her perked asshole fluttered gently with every push and pull.

The whole image of the scenario was so erotic, Bradley felt his end drawing nearer the longer he kept his eyes open. The rope in his own stomach was about to snap and shred to pieces. "B-baby," he stuttered, hunching back over her. His hands rested to cover both of her own, their fingers interlocking. "I'm so close."

"Come inside, Bradley," she said gently. Her fingers tugged slightly at his, the cool metal of their wedding rings clashing. She truly sounded like an angel, almost far off in the distance in his haze. "Come inside of me."

Permission was all he needed for him to finish. He placed his hot forehead against her upper shoulders, his moans echoing against the hollow of her spine as he filled her to the brim. She was mewling on her own at the heat flooding her body. They stayed like that for a moment, attached, basking in the aftermath of their passionate fire. His dog tags were no longer cool to the touch, pressed deeply into the lines of her skin to leave the seal of his name in her body.

She was his and only his.

Rooster withdrew and grabbed his shirt, dirty by now and did a sparse clean up. He hobbled to the bathroom, legs still shaking, to grab a cool cloth to clean his girl. After rinsing himself clean, he went back to the couch to find her still bent in the same position her hips raised. A small stream of cum was dripping down the side of her thigh, but thankfully didn't drop on the couch.

"We should have put a towel down," Bradley laughed, cleaning her thoroughly. She patted away the pillow bolstering her hips up and let her body drop flat on the couch. Her hands went to press on her lower spine and she sighed, content. "I feel better," she grinned. There was his girl. Beautiful, bright and colorful again.

They slipped into some idle chatter, ordering dinner, deciding what movie to watch for the night and the likes. Bradley had slipped his sweatpants back on and his wife had favored one of his old naval shirts that hung lose on her body for pajamas. They were cuddled back up on the couch, paying more attention to each others eyes rather than the screen.

"Who would have thought all you needed was for someone to blow your back out a little," he chirped, ego inflating just enough to issue a playful smack across his chest.

"Or maybe it was your 'magic fingers' all along!" Her smile was just infectious as he couldn't help but return it. "I won't lie, adding the oil made it feel really good. Almost like a bike running me over instead of a train."

"Abracadabra!" Bradley wiggled his fingers in her direction. Her laughter rang through the apartment as he tickled her sides, the sound just music to him.

Bradley liked to think he was a kind man. He would do anything just to keep her smiling.

---

tagging: @cherrycola27

[laverna-fanfictions]

To Be Free - Finn Shelby Imagine

I AM BACK! And I’m back with a long waited request -it was requested at January????-  so here it is, and I’m really sorry for making you wait for it. I combined the two requests together.  I hope you’ll enjoy! And feel free to ask/say anything to me!

Request: @beth-winchester21  Please can I request a finn shelby x reader where I'm esmes younger sister and the shelbys treat me like family and I get really excited for Christmas and everyone finds it hilarious and I end up getting drunk and finn looks after me thanks xx

@beth-winchester21 Hi please can I request a finn shelby x reader where I'm his girlfriend and esmes younger sister and I've known him and his family since I was 3 and they treat me like family and they find out my parents abuse me and make me give them my money and work for them and the shelbys save me from them and can I have a cute moment with finn please thanks x

WARNINGS: Mentions of abuse, buying someone from their family, mentions of physical abuse, drunkness.

WORDS COUNT: 1346

   You have been working your ass of because of your parents, they have always treated you as if you were their worker- or slave. Carrying all the wood although your brother always sat at the corner, drinking, and playing card games with his stupid asshole friends. His friends were always mean to you, well “mean” didn’t describe it very well, they were harassing you all the time. Cornering you, pulling your skirt in front of everyone. Your family didn’t care that much, they only cared about your brother because he was a male. Esme was your only escape, and after her marriage John became your haven too.

The Shelby’s were like a family to you. Finn and you were always hanging out, annoying his brothers by the Garrison’s. Eavesdropping their deals, sneaking booze out of the bar, stealing Arthur’s hats and razors. They never once treated you like a stranger, you were like their sister. And that connection became stronger after the marriage between Esme and John.

Finn figured out your situation after you became his girlfriend. He saw how the other boys treated you- how your family did. One night, your father beat you so bad that he broke your arm, gave you a purple eye and almost broke your ribs too. Finn found you fainted at your tent, grabbed you and carried you to John and Esme’s house. Esme was freaking out, cussing every bad word out, throwing shit at the wall while John tried to calm her down. Things were about to turn sideways for your family, you could feel it, but you were too sedated to care at that moment. Polly brought a doctor to help you, the whole Shelby clan was at your side talking about what they were going to do. They couldn’t start another war with your family, that’s why John and Esme became married at the first place.

“I know what to do.” said Finn, still looking extremely mad. His eyes were all dark and dangerous, his eyebrows were still frowned. You could see how stressful he exhaled because of his nostril; they became large with every breath. “What?” Tommy sound angrier, eyeing the doctor time to time. “We will pay for her. That’s the only language they understand. So, we’ll make a deal.”

“Oh, nice.” you mouthed, still dazed. “Another way to show my family how I am their slave.” your words were slurred, but they still understood you. Finn looked at you concerned. “I know how you feel, Y/N. But this is the only way we can save you.” you tried to silk your shoulders, but you remembered your arm was broken. “I know but that doesn’t change the fact that I’m their slave.” Tommy wasn’t listening to you anymore; he took Arthur and John with him and went to your parents. You were worried sick about to possible outcome of this deal because your parents were dangerous. But you let your eyes rest, you couldn’t deal with the pain anymore. So, you fell asleep.

-

“Y/N, please bring us that bottle of whiskey I put aside.”

Tommy requested with a soft tone; he had a business meeting at the bar. After “buying” you out from your abusive parents, Tommy decided it would be better for you to work for yourself and yourself only. He let you earn decent money, enough to get yourself a new place to stay. The guys didn’t want you to move out, but they knew eventually you had to. After working, you had to get back to Tommy’s because it was around Christmas and you and your new family were about to get together. You were unbearably excited, head to toe, feeling numb in your fingers. You’d never celebrated Christmas before, let alone a dinner party with your family. Hell, if there were a party, you would be the one who do all the work around.

You and Finn were sitting near the Christmas tree, drinking your whiskey while chatting. His fingers were brushing through your now better arm, caressing the bandage. “Does it still hurt?” you silk your shoulders “Not anymore.” you smile, gave him a kiss on the cheek and put your head on his shoulder. You were watching them, arguing passionately about something. Polly and Ada were somewhere else at the house, Polly probably was reading the tea leaves of Ada.

You were excited about that night because it was the first decent dinner with anyone. You wanted to look good, so you dressed up- more than them. They have been mocking you all night long, especially Arthur. He kept commenting on your newly bought pearls, the kind gift of Tommy. You were like a mad cow, you accept that, bothered everyone all day long about what to wear or what to do. But in the end, you were full of happiness thanks to your new family.

“I am going to get myself a new glass.” you told Finn and stood up from the couch. You were a little bit dizzy, well it was a really strong whiskey so that was not a surprise for you. You wanted to get over your excitement so, you’d like a new glass.

While you were walking back to your spot, Arthur grabbed you by your waist and held you high. “Holy shit Arthur!” you screamed, some of it because of the pain you had in your ribs. You held his shoulders in the purpose of not falling, but your glass had already fallen. “Y/N’s first official dinner with us as our family!” he shouted, turning you around up by the air. You were feeling nauseous, you were about to throw up. “Fuck, Arthur, stop!” he didn’t listen to you, kept you up there. And then, the inevitable happened.

You threw up, while still up in the air, made a whole mess around the carpet and unfortunately, some of it got to his suit too. All his brothers started to laugh, mostly at Arthur. “Fuck Y/N!” he let you down, took off his jacket and put it aside. Tommy called over his maid, although he looked slightly amused, he didn’t want to make it obvious. His carpet was a mess.

Esme was still laughing like crazy and held your hand. “Let’s get you cleaned up, pukey.” you nodded in response. She helped you clean your mouth, sprayed the perfume, and slightly squeezed your cheeks to give you a little color. “How are you feeling, love?” she sounded concerned, which was a rare thing because she never showed her worrying side to you before. You smiled and hugged her; you loved your big sister more than anything in the world. “I’m happy.”

“About puking?”

You giggled, squeezed her more with your arms. “No, about today. About this. I feel free.” she kissed your cheek and smiled back at you. “You are free, love. And you got Finn.” she winked and let you out of the bathroom. Finn was waiting you there, looking a little bit disturbed. “Are you alright, Y/N? You look pale? Did Arthur hurt your arm or something?” you let him to hug you, to kiss you. “I’m fine, Jesus. I just had too much to drink.” you kissed him back, walked with him outside to the garden. You two were sitting at the bench, holding each other closely. “You know Finn, you don’t have to worry about me all the time.”

“I will worry about you darling, because I love you.”

You raised your head, looked at him surprised. Yes, you two loved each other but you’d never said it out loud before. The three words made you warm all inside, a huge smile creeped all over your face. You were young, little kids even, but you always had that feeling with him. Even when you guys were little, you knew Finn was the one. Finn was the one who cared about you the most, and you cared about him the most. So, you let yourself say those three words back to him.

“I love you too. More than anyone.”

[bitchassbucky]

.zip

Word Count: 2k

Warning/s: toxic/abusive relationship dynamics, gaslighting and manipulation, abduction, injuries were mentioned, stalking, dark!bucky x dark!reader, emotionally/mentally unstable!reader, dismemberment (not gore-y but still), three very special character mentions, shady corporate stuff, career sabotage?, food mention, sedation/drugging, f-words.

A/N: oh my god, this is the final chapter of CTRL. to all who read from the start, thank y'all so fucking much - from the bottom of my big-ass heart, thank you so much for coming along with this journey. this is my first FINISHED series, oh my god. to @babyboibucky (CTRL's number one fan), @sarge-barnes-sir, and @borikenlove thank you so much for indulging my inner degenerate GHJSDFG and for screaming (affectionately) at me when i first let y'all read the finished draft.

BUT THIS IS NOT THE END (just yet), i will be uploading TWO epilogues very soon: the explicit version and the not-so-explicit version. stay tuned!

follow the CTRL series:

i - .exe

ii - .avi

iii - .raw

iv - .png

v - .zip

epilogue:

.eps (explicit)

.eps (cut)

CTRL playlist CTRL moodboard

Your demeanor, character, even tone, changed.

Calculated, cold, unnerving.

But you sat there like a housewife in front of her husband, eating spaghetti and meatballs. Acting all dandy like there isn’t a man strapped onto the chair four feet away from you.

“C’mon, darling, eat! I made your favorite,” your eyes twinkled as Bucky helplessly tugged on his restraints, “oh, sorry, you’re tied up.”

Hm, sick in the head, bad for the heart.

“What do you want?” Oh, wow, even talking hurts for him. His throat is all dried up, he tasted something bitter under his tongue.

You chuckled, moving half a meatball around your mostly empty plate, “for you to stop treating me like I’m stupid.” You spear the meat with your fork, swirling it in the sauce, “I know you’ve been… checking in on me, Bucky.”

Oh, fuck.

“Look, I’m sorry, okay? I was-- I mean, look at you--” He’s making it worse. You’re mad. You’re angry because he was being a good friend.

He only did that because you were lonely and he’s right: you are lonely.

So lonely that you’re willing to kidnap a grown man to keep you company, “I’m so sad for you.”

“You’re aware you’re the one’s been tied up, right?” You’re curt as you should be, scooting over near Bucky to feed him.

“I can’t eat that—” If he wasn’t sitting down and tied, Bucky would’ve vaulted over you and called the neighbors, she’s fucking crazy!

You giggled, rolling your eyes as if he had the freedom to make a choice right now, “if you’re thinking of screaming… More than half of my neighbors are felons or on parole, I doubt that they’ll call 911.”

Jutting forward the fork, you let the prongs gently touch Bucky’s lips, “now, eat! We have so much to talk about.”

“No. I don’t-- I’m not hungry.” He shakes his head, the fork hitting his chin and clanking down the floor.

“Just eat the fucking food, Steve!”

Bucky flinched at your sudden outburst. The words—the name—seeping in a moment later. Steve? Who the hell is Steve? Was he your husband? Boyfriend? His head throbbed again, his mouth filling with saliva like he’s about to throw up.

You kneel down, pulling a napkin from the table to wipe the meat and the sauce from the floor.

“This better not stain.”

—

He promised thrice.

Once over pasta and meatballs, once over dessert, and once when you were clearing the table.

You relented, of course. Half because you love him and half because it’s getting annoying.

“As long as you don’t leave me, okay?”

“Yes, I promise. I won’t leave you.”

Bucky’s still seating on the dinner chair, slightly slumped without the ropes holding him up, “look, I’m really sorry about the anesthetic, I went overboard with it.” You look over to him—at least he’s regaining his fingers and arms again.

“It’s okay, babe, I wouldn’t trust me either.” If he could stand up, he’d go over and hug you. Helping with the dishes, peppering you with sweet kisses.

A genuine laugh slips out of your lips, “ugh, still… I’m really sorry.”

The last of the plates were neatly stacked, cups and cutleries were placed gently on a drying rack. It was getting late, you could tell.

“I’m not mad, by the way.” You muse, prompting Bucky to lean forward, listening to you.

“What do you mean?” He takes your hand into his, ever so gently.

“You did that,” you squeeze his hand back, gazing into his soulful eyes, “because you love me.”

Did you know that some people could read microexpressions well? Bucky went through a whole lot of them before answering, “of course, I do.”

Contemplating whether you call him out on it or not, you hum, placing a gentle hand on his jaw, “it’s okay, you’ll learn how to love me.”

He has to. He has no other choice.

Bucky clears his throat, “have you seen my phone?” His tone was hopeful, upbeat, maybe he can reach out to someone, anyone, before you can do any more damage.

“Yeah, ‘s on the couch.”

He tried to move, he really did. Bucky’s fairly strong, he can bench an easy 140 on a good day. But even the beefiest motherfuckers have no match for Propofol.

“Don’t worry about your friends, they’re not worried about you, Buck.” The coolness of your tone sends Bucky into a panic—again. “D’you wanna check your messages though? There’s a lot of ‘em.”

Grabbing his phone, you asked Siri to read him his latest notifications.

Urgent: Notice of Immediate Termination

From Joaquin: Where are you, man?

From John W.: Do you have copies?

Urgent: Notice of Immediate Termination

Urgent: Gross Misconduct

From Joaquin: Bucky, what the fuck?

From Samuel Wilson: Pick up the phone, Barnes. You’re fired.

17 missed calls from an unknown number

From John W.: I knew you were a freak but holy shit, dude!

72 text messages from an unknown number

Bucky never really liked horror movies. It made him jumpy and anxious. Too paranoid, even. But now? Now he’s sure that people have never experienced sheer fright before.

His toes cramped inside his boots, his feet were cold, sweating. The little hairs on his legs stood up, goosebumps littering the entirety of his body. If he held his breath, he’s sure he could hear his heart hammering out of his chest. The blood rushes past his ears and onto the base of his skull—he’s gonna be sick.

“What,” he gulped back the saliva pooling in his mouth, “what did you do?”

You’re irritatingly calm, “well, I mean… We’re already together, what do you need those for, right?”

Putting a warm hand over his forehead, you cooed, “poor thing, you look sick.”

—

Bucky thinks it’s well past midnight when the anesthetic wore off.

His limbs were heavy, he had to lean on the wall every couple of steps to regain his balance. Helpless. He’s helpless and you both know it. As if it’s a bear trap, Bucky carefully took his phone from the coffee table.

Why would you leave it unattended?

The screen lights up as soon as he picked up, his lock screen littered with ‘fuck yous’, ‘sicko’, and his personal favorite, ‘motherfucker.’

Ignoring the glaring messages, he went straight for the emergency dialler and—you took out his SIM card, snapping it into two neat pieces, placing it beside the phone.

Bitch.

The golden surface of the card was scratched too, he can’t do anything, use it as a toothpick, maybe? His phone was just as good as a paperweight.

He looks out of the window, limping towards it. Even if he could climb over, it would take him forever to get onto the street. Your neighbors would probably think that he’s just on a bad trip.

“It’s bolted shut. Perks of living alone as a single female.” Your voice made him flinch back, like a kid whose hand was halfway down the cookie jar.

Bucky plays it off with a cough, he can’t be weak now, “no, babe, I was checking out a noise. You ready for bed?”

You smiled softly, taking his hand and draping his arm on your shoulders as you prop him against you, “almost, big guy. Gotta get you settled in bed first. Are you tired?”

Nodding, Bucky kisses your temple, “yeah.” He just needs to play with your sick little games until he regains his strength.

Where would he go? His reputation and his job are besmirched, his apartment is probably crawling with forensics too.

“You fell down and banged your head earlier. Nasty cut on your head too. I told you to not tire yourself much.”

You hit and drugged me but I digress, “Yes, darling. ‘M sorry.”

“You scared me, Buck. I thought you were dead.” Are these tears forming in your eyes?

“I’m not leaving you, not by any chance. I promise.”

He promises a fourth time.

—

Your bedroom was bigger than he thought. But of course, he only saw your desk and your bed through the webcam.

Save from the Ted Bundy-esque corkboard you have in front of your workspace, he feels weirdly at home. You tucked him in, reminding him to wake up every two hours for the painkillers.

“You’re not going to bed?” He muses from behind you, all cocooned in your blankets.

“Just need to take this phone call real quick, babe.” Your back was turned from him as you work on your company laptop. He noticed that the webcam is covered with white tape.

The sound of an incoming call filled the room before you quickly answer it, your voice turning hoarse and raspy as if you’ve been crying.

Hi, Mr. Wilson. I’m so sorry for the late call. Do I- do I need to come in tomorrow? I just... I don’t feel comfortable facing everyone—I used all my home hours this week and—

Miss L/N, I’m glad you reached out to me. Is it okay if I record this call for security purposes? It’s just for you, me, and the HR department.

You turned to Bucky, your face is stone-cold but your voice belonged to someone so utterly helpless.

No, you don’t have to call into work tomorrow… Or any other day.

A dainty gasp and a fucking sob comes out of your mouth, your eyes were telling a different story.

Am I fired?

God, no. Please, Miss L/N, don’t worry about that. We want you with us through this entire debacle. We want you to take some time off—paid. We’ll also grant you… a grievance package.

You could almost hear what he would say next.

As long as you don’t talk to any members of the press or any journalists until our friends in the PR department can clean this up.

A triumphant smile creeps on your bare features, putting a finger in front of your lips, you mimic a ‘shh’ gesture to Bucky.

You round up another mirthless sob as the CEO drones on about the bureaucracy of this whole thing.

He was really nice to me, you know? He took me out on dinners and lunches. He even brought me to his place and I– nothing happened but I can’t stop thinking about it.

I’m really sorry, Miss L/N. I thought he was…

A good guy? I really thought so too.

Please stay offline for a bit, just for the weekend, alright? Someone from the HR department will be in touch with you for the process. We don’t wanna be a hassle more than what Barnes is. On our behalf, please accept our deepest apologies.

Jesus, this guy had the PR department cook up an apology letter.

Thank you—thank you so much, Mr. Wilson. I’ll keep in touch.

You burst out in laughter a second after the call ended. Hearty laughter, the one where you can feel your belly tightening.

“Did you hear how good I was, baby? Oh my god, we had them fooled.”

We? Fuck your ‘we.’

You slide over the covers, propping up yourself with your elbow as you turn to face Bucky, “don’t worry, you don’t need them anymore. You have me, yeah? We have each other.”

—

Out of the most bizarre things that happened to him last week, finding dismembered fingers in the fridge was the least of his concerns.

“Honey!” Bucky calls out, holding the ziplock bag with a pair of tongs.

You bound down the stairs, your laptop in hand as you squint, “what am I looking at?”

Bucky hesitated, maybe he’s going insane too, “fingers. Dismembered fingers—are these yours?”

Setting down the laptop onto the table, you peck him on the cheek, smiling as if him holding a baggie with human remains is just your Sunday normal, “god, I hope not. I need my hands to do things.”

As soon as you look back at him, you dropped the facade: “those are Steve’s. Well, used to be.”

Bucky’s afraid to ask the question where’s the rest of him?

“You know the term pinky promise, right? Well, it has a dark origin.”

Just as fast as a bustling train, Bucky rakes his brain for all the times he promised you something. Hoping that he won’t end up with a stump for a hand.

One vividly bright memory is seared into his brain though, the days blurred together with sharp edges and mismatched colors: we love how we were taught to love.

So, who taught you how to love like this?

[fairyfuyu]

I don't even watch bnha but I wanna fuck aizawa

But like soft... cuddle sex with him. Him slowly thrusting from behind and us kissing his jawline....

bestie i cannot-

im shaking. this is all i fucking want in life holy hsceiuwo HES SO SEXY WHAT THE FUCK

also his stubble...... on my inner thighs when hes eating me out.. and he's totally the kinda man to groan into your pussy while he goes down on you. his tongue is magical. the eye contact: immaculate. he's also a teasing little shit that would edge the fuck out of you because he likes to see you squirm and hear you beg over and over to just fucking let me cum, shouta..

someone sedate me please

[ashintheairlikesnow]

Whumptober Day 21: Infection

CW: sick whumpee, abdominal pain, medical whump, emeto mention, nausea mention, pet whump references, recovering whumpee, fever, sickfic

TIMELINE: Chris’s first year after rescue

Nat makes the call, her jaw set in a grim line as she puts her phone up to her ear, and Jake has never seen the laugh-lines and crow's-feet wrinkles as clearly as he does in the dim yellowed light from the single lamp in the corner. 

"We can't do this," Jake says, softly, but he's outvoted by sheer necessity and he knows it, he knows before the protest ever leaves his mouth. It doesn’t stop his heart from racing, dread pooling deep inside him. "Nat, we can't, he isn't-... they’ll turn him in, Nat, god damn it-"

"Hey," Nat says into the phone, ignoring Jake entirely. "It's me. Yeah. I'm calling you for help." 

Next to Jake, lying on the couch while the big man balances himself seated precariously on the coffee table, Chris whines weakly in pain, pressing the back of Jake's hand to his clammy, sweat-soaked forehead. Coppery hair sticks to him, soaked the color of old pennies. 

Jake half-expects to see the blue-green tarnish growing and taking over.

"Hurts," Chris whispers, and Jake's heart breaks open. They didn't know - Chris had collapsed this morning, thrown up his breakfast and then blacked out in the bathroom, it was the first they'd seen of his illness.

Only when he'd been bundled down here to the couch, temp taken - 102 degrees Fahrenheit, holy fuck, he’d been fine yesterday, right? - had Chris admitted he'd been hurting for two days, a pulsing pain around his navel that felt like it was taking over his whole right side now. He told them he’d been so scared they would make him take medicine again that he hadn't told anyone. 

When Chris pointed to the right side of his stomach and said that it hurt there, and it kept getting worse... that was when Nat had given that serious, firm nod, said Dr. Masood couldn't help them this time, and picked up the phone. 

"Nat, he still has his barcode, they'll fucking turn him in-"

"My money’s on appendicitis," Nat says flatly into the phone. Her eyes move to Chris, lips thinning at his pale skin, freckles and two bright red splotches standing out on his cheeks, the way his green eyes are glassy, hazy, lost until the pain spikes and they briefly clear, just enough for him to start crying again. "Guarantee it. I can't use our guy." A pause. "Listen, he's eighteen - I think - and was routinely subjected to dehydration, starvation, and sleep deprivation. His medical care inside isn’t exactly nothing, but... this is appendi-fucking-citis and that motherfucker is going to burst if we don't get someone to cut it out of him ASAP. I don't have the time to waste going back and forth on this with you. Take one fucking look at him and you’ll know it!"

Nat never swears like this, with such intense hostility and insistence. Chris tightens his grip on Jake, and moans, frightened, turning to look up at him with wide green eyes far too big for his pinched expression. “S-sorry, I’m, I’m sorry… ‘ll... ‘ll b’good...” 

The plaintive haunted fear and hurt in him makes Jake wish there were an enemy, someone he could fight. Sitting here watching Chris get sicker by the hour, able to do absolutely nothing about it, is so much worse than anything else ever has been. 

“It’s okay,” Jake murmurs, stroking over his hair, carding his fingers gently through the damp, sweaty strands. “She’s not mad at you, little man, I swear. You’re sick and she’s trying to get help, it’s okay. You didn’t do anything wrong.”

Fuck those motherfuckers who made you too scared of pills to tell us you were hurting.

"Jake-" Chris starts, and then stops, swallows as his face goes a little green around the edges and he tenses, whimpering, torn between nausea and the way muscles tensing makes him hurt even worse. Jake watches his internal battle written openly across his expression. Tears slip from his eyes, running down his cheeks, as he chokes back a sob. "It, it, it hurts so much... Jake, I, I need… I could take, take, could… could could could take something now."

Jake nods and starts to move but Nat puts up a hand. "No drugs," She says, quietly. "They'll give him something there to put him under. We don’t want anything to interact badly.”

“Nat-”

“I’m sorry,” She says, her voice firm and calm. “But nothing until my contact has him.”

“Who is your fucking contact, anyway?”

Nat gives Jake a small, tired smile. “Not yet, Jake. Have to keep these things under wraps.”

"Mom, please," Chris pleads, and Jake and Nat both turn to look at him, shocked, eyes wide. "Mom, it, it, it… It hurts!"

Neither of them says anything at first, and Chris stares at them, eyes pleading but far away. It isn’t them he sees at all.

“Nat-”

“Just go with it,” She says, and goes back to the phone.

“Please, Mom-” Chris whimpers.

"Sorry, we can't," Jake whispers, fighting back the burn of hot tears himself as he goes back to stroking through Chris’s hair. Guilt twists inside him, sharp as any knife. Being helpless is tearing him apart.

Chris’s eyes move, lock on Nat, struggle to maintain their focus, go hazy again. His flush is layered over a gray-green paleness that makes him look like a corpse with makeup, pouring sweat that doesn’t cool him down at all. “Mom, please, please help me, please… don’t, don’t, don’t let them take you out, out of my head, Mom, please!”

Nat listens to the voice on the other end of the phone. Her eyes glimmer and her jaw is starting to tremble where she has it locked, visible in the low warm light coming from the lamps, but her voice stays steady. "No. Yes. Yes, that’s him you’re hearing. Yes… 102.3- yes, I'm sure. Fifteen minutes ago, more or less. Abdominal pain - he even said he thought it was a stomachache at first. Fever. Nausea, vomiting, yes. Getting worse and moving down and to the right. Yeah, I know. So how do we keep my rescue safe without the solution being to sit here and watch him die from infection?"

Jake ignores the cold fear that squeezes bony fingers around his heart and wipes Chris's forehead with a cool wet cloth. 

"Mom, m'sick," Chris whispers. "No, no school. Please, please…" His eyes track blearily over Jake's face. "Dad, tell her. Tell, tell, tell-... tell her m’sick…”

"I know," Jake says quietly, his voice shaking and thin. Nat is speaking softer now, lightning-fast whispers with her contact, somebody she's worked with for years with the hospital. "I know, Chris. We’re going to take you to see a doctor, okay?”

Chris blinks at him once, twice, and then his eyes are gone, shifting away. His lower lip starts to tremble, jerking fast, shallow breaths, nearly panting. “I’ll be, be, be-be, be good, don’t… don’t hurt me, sir, I’ll… I’ll be good.”

“I know, buddy, I know.” Jake can’t listen to this much longer. “I know you will.” Chris’s voice is small, losing all his sense of himself. Timid, scared, sweet.

“Be good… can, um, can, can be good f-for… you…” Chris whispers, eyes closing, new tears run out the corners as he whimpers and curls up against the pain. “Just, just stop… hurting me… b-be good, handler, good for, for, for you...”

Jake’s stomach flips and he has to fight the bile trying to rise in his throat. “Nat-”

“Hush, Jake.” Nat’s voice is still calm, and her attention is on the phone. "Mmhmmm. Christopher, um... say Yoder-”

“Stanton,” Jake says from the couch. 

Nat might smile. The expression is too tight, too pinched with worry, to really be called that. “Strike that. Christopher Stanton." Nat listens for a long time, then says quietly, "Eighteen…. We think. No known health problems or pre-existing illness. Autistic."

Jake looks up, blinking, and Nat calmly looks back at him, giving a firm nod while speaking into the phone. "Yes. Yes, I'm confident. He is sensitive to fluorescent lights, scared of needles, and terrified of sedation. Yeah, I realize that I just described the exact environment of a hospital.” Her voice starts to shift, then, and Jake watches her free hand close into a fist. She speaks with increasingly open anger, badly masking her worry and fear. “For the love of Christ, just put on the fucking papers that Christopher Stanton is fucking autistic, because that's what my goddamn rescue is and he still needs care - I'll sell someone else's firstborn to fucking Satan if he isn't autistic, god damn it, mark my fucking words - and we're wasting time goddamn dithering over whether you believe a diagnosis while he gets worse!"

Nat's voice rises, nearly shouting, and Chris whines and curls up closer to Jake, then winces and cries out in pain, straightening back out again. 

"Sssshhhhh, it's okay," Jake murmurs, but his heart is racing, too, his nerves are jagged with memories of swearing, shouting adults. Some part of him that has never stopped being a child braces for the sound of impact. "It's okay."

Nat is quiet for a long time, then snaps, "Yep, nope, I know, I know you needed to confirm," fast and angry. “See you then.” She hangs up, turning to look at Jake and Chris. "My contact is on their way. If the surgery works, two days and he's home. If his appendix bursts... Could be two weeks in the hospital, Jake."

"No," Jake says, lips barely moving. "No, Nat. Two weeks… he can't fake being someone else for so long."

"He better give it his best shot," Nat says, pushing herself to her feet. "I know this sucks, Jake, but sometimes what we do is make the hard choices they can’t make. And… and even if they turn him in, being turned in is better than dying."

Is it? Do you know that?

"What do we do, then?" Jake says, resting his hand on Chris's sweat-damp hair. Chris doesn't seem aware anymore, staring off into space, weeping silent tears and hitching soft sobs, promising in whispers to be good and obey his handler if only he’ll make the pain stop. “What’s the next step? Give me a fucking order, Nat, because I’m lost, and-” Jake gives a nervous, humorless laugh. “-I’m pretty fucking scared for him.”

"Yeah… yeah, I get that. Just pack some clothes and toiletries," Nat says flatly. "And prepare to swear on the fucking Bible to doctors and surgeons and fucking cops if we have to that his name is Chris Stanton and he's your little brother. We’re about to put on a show, Jake."

“What do you mean?”

“You’re not leaving him. You are going to be the most concerned and caring big brother the world has ever seen. When he gets out of surgery, you’re going to meet him in recovery, you’re going to stay with him in his room day and night. You’re there from day one until he walks back out the door.” Nat’s jaw is set again. “And he will be walking back out that door with us.”

“Visiting hours-”

“He can’t make his own medical decisions,” Nat says, leaning over a little, staring Jake right in the eyes. “So someone has to be there all the time. Do you understand me? He can’t.”

“He’s not-... he could, if he was a little further along-”

Chris whines, and his hand grabs weakly at Jake’s and squeezes. Jake can hardly feel it. 

“He’s not. Okay? He’s not that far into recovery yet. We’re going to pretend he’s a lot less capable than he is, to get him through this. We are going to pretend he can’t do it himself, because right now it’s not pretending, he wouldn’t remember what to do yet. And I feel like shit treating him like a toddler, Jake, I really do, but… but he can’t do this alone, and I can’t exactly tell them it’s because he was a pet and they’re trained to be dependent, now can I? We’re going to have to lie about his condition.”

“That wasn’t actually a lie, though, right? We do think he is actually-”

“Yeah. We do. But he’s not incapable - or he won’t be, once he’s older. That’s what we have to lie about. And I don’t-... right now I don’t give a shit about a damn thing except buying him more time to fucking grow up.”

"What about his barcode?"

Nat takes a deep breath. "My contact is going to bandage it over, say it was part of when he passed out and they’ve taken care of it and we're going to hope to Christ no one who they don't trust checks under it. We're out of options, Jake, unless you know how to do an appendectomy and you’ve just been holding out on me. I’m not prepared to do kitchen table surgery. Are you?"

There’s a pause while they stare at each other, and then Jake takes in a deep, steady breath.

You can do this. Chris needs you to do this.

"His name is Chris Stanton," Jake says, meeting her eyes, "and he's my little brother, and he's autistic. I’m his medical power of attorney, I make medical decisions when he’s incapcitated. He’s scared of hospitals because of bad childhood experiences and needs someone nearby at all times or he’ll lose it.”

Nat gives a terse nod. "Good. Pack your shit, and hope his fucking appendix hasn't burst while my contact dicked around." 

Nat went up the stairs like a lightning bolt, and Jake let out a shuddering breath. 

By the time they hear the ambulance pull up a few minutes later, sirens and lights carefully off, they're packed and ready to follow in Nat’s old truck.

Chris's fever is still rising. 

---

Tagging: @burtlederp , @finder-of-rings , @endless-whump , @whumpfigure , @slaintetowhump , @astrobly, @newandfiguringitout , @doveotions , @pretty-face-breaker , @boxboysandotherwhump , @oops-its-whump @moose-teeth , @cubeswhump , @cupcakes-and-pain @whump-tr0pes @whumpiary

[escapingmytrauma]

ROOMMATES

HAWKS X F!READER 

YANDERE BEHAVIOR

DARK CONTENT! 

Being roommates with Hawks wasn’t horrible, but for some reason anytime you brought someone over specifically a male. It didn’t always bother you, but this last time seemed to do it for you because you were really into this guy.

“Please, Keigo… I’m begging you to be nice and not to scare him off,” You beg him. He cusses under his breath as he was agitated the fact that you interested in such a piece of shit.

“What even makes him different?” Keigo questions as he now sits up on the couch upright looking towards you as you pick up the coffee table to make it clean. You pause with a small sigh and turn towards him as you cross your arms pushing your breasts up together; Keigo can’t help but glance. His eyes quickly go up to your eyes that are slightly narrowed.

“I wouldn’t know… I never knew a guy long enough to get to know them,” You answer. You walk into the kitchen and glance at the oven clock noticing he will be here in a couple minutes. “Look he is gonna be here in a couple of minutes, please don’t do anything.”

Keigo sighs as he raises his hands in defeat. “Okay. Okay, I won’t say anything…” he lied straight through his smile. You didn’t know it, but you belonged to him, and you were his only. He never attempted to make a direct move, but he was basically at his end. You didn’t realize how many times he was tempted to fuck you while you were sedated. Keigo used them wisely; put them in your drink when you had a date that same day to miss it, and sometimes he would just do it because he didn’t want you leaving the apartment at all.

He would be lying if he said he wasn’t jealous. Keigo was always pretty jealous every time you tried to go out. Wearing your hair down, smelling so fruity and sweet, dressing so cute. You came back out of you room as you were dressed more in casual clothing than your around the house apparel. He stood up and followed closely behind as you walked into the kitchen and got some snacks just in case.

“Keigo, why don’t you try going out, it might be good?” You nervously throw out. You were always hesitant to encourage him to go out because the last time you did he literally railed you with questions such ‘do you not like me’, ‘do you hate me that much’. You really liked Keigo, you did, but… he was clingy and borderline possessive for just a roommate.

“Simple. My work doesn’t allow me to have those luxuries.” I want you, no one else – is really what he meant. It wasn’t all a lie, being the number two hero was a demanding job. But still, he’d rather cling to you on his days off than go out and face the crowd.

“Understandable, but what about Miruko? She seemed interested in you…” you pushed farther, a small scowl settled on his face before he grabbed your wrist. You knew you shouldn’t have said it, but you had to be honest with him.

“Look I’m just not interested in dating anyone.” Hawks released your wrist before walking to his room and shutting the door behind him. Your words struck a nerve, why couldn’t you just not try to see anybody like he does and be with him. He rubbed his face as he sat down on his bed contemplating on whether he should just claim you now before the guy gets here or if he should let it be.

  *****

A couple hours had passed and he could hear you chatting and giggling with the guy. His jaw clenched and he had enough. Keigo put on his fake smile as he walked out and saw the two of you still talking to he purposely let on his feathers shed on the coffee table. The guy noticed as he looked up and his eyes went wide.

“______, you didn’t tell me your roommate was Hawks. Holy shit!” The dude was in awe. Keigo glanced towards you, noticing your small glare at him.

“Haha. What are the odds… I’m always happy to meet a fan!” You know what he is doing, don’t let him get to you. Don’t let him get to you. Don’t let him get to-

“Holy shit! ______, you knew I was a huge fan, why didn’t you tell me?” The guy pushed further. You sighed in defeat as you stood up and said something about using the bathroom. Hawks smirked as this was the perfect opportunity.

“You know… you should probably back off of _____...” Keigo started. A smile still played on his face as he fully turned his attention to the guy. “I don’t let her date people I don’t approve of to be honest.”

The guy’s face dropped as he realized where Keigo was going with this, “Dude, if you wanted her why don’t you just ask her?”

Keigo laughs as he steps closer to the guy, “I’m waiting for her to be ready.”

The guy chuckle nervously raising his hands in surrender, “Bro code dude. I gotchu. Can I at least have an autograph before I go?”

Keigo writes the autograph and the guy leaves as Keigo smiles in victory. A couple of minutes you come back and see as Keigo is relaxing on the couch with a smirk on his face. You tense up.

“Keigo….” You state with venom lacing your tone. He gives you an innocent smile as you take a couple more steps towards him.

“____...” He replies with your name. You groan in frustration as you grab a plastic cup that was on the coffee table and chuck it at Keigo. He catches it with ease.

“I’m done. Keigo you’re crossing the line of roommates!” You raise your voice and Keigo just smirks as if he is thoroughly enjoying this. You know it’s useless so you walk back to your room and slam your door. You lay down on your bed as your face sinks into the mattress. You hear a soft knock at your door and you grumble.

“Leave me alone Keigo.” It comes out slightly muffled, but still understandable; not to Keigo, apparently. He walks in and you feel the bed dip as he comes close to you; a hand soothingly rubs your back as you try your best to ignore him. His had suddenly sneaks underneath your shirt and you shoot up.

“Just let me give you a massage, _____... It’ll help,” He soothes. You refuse to listen as you turn your body over and his hand glides along your skin his hand now on your ribs. He removes his hand and is now just there on his knees beside you.

“Keigo, we’re roommates… we’re not-“ You get caught off by his hand going around your throat as your eyes widen.

“All this bullshit. We’re roommates. We’re just roommates,” He mocks you. Keigo suddenly brings himself straddling you. Your hands quickly push against his abdomen as he leans down close to your ear.

“No, sweetheart. You’re mine.”

[kiwikyuu]

━━━━━━━━ all the different shades of orange ; hinata shōyō

summary — whoever said that hinata shōyō is a ball of sunshine is a liar

word count — 3k

genre — imagine ; kinda enemies to lover, fluff

warning(s) — major spoilers about spring interhigh for those of you who haven't read the manga, insults thrown around, kinda out of character hinata, cursing, not edited

a/n — okay but have y'all seen e2l hinata shōyō besides kagehina lmao because i haven't and thought it'd be interesting to try out. also wow i have never put so much effort into a work like this one (hopefully it reaches a lot of people and you can all find some joy in reading!)

❝ WATCH WHERE YOU'RE FUCKING GOING NEXT TIME, YOU ROTTEN BELL PEPPER. ❞

Hate was a strong word but the flaring anger in your heart and overwhelming urge to run into a wall whenever your eyes landed on that tangerine said otherwise. It wasn't that you went out of your way to dislike someone that has everyone wrapped around their finger. It just so happened that you had no tolerance for bullshit, and Hinata Shōyō pissed you off in every way possible.

It started on the first day of high school.

Walking beside Minari, a friend from middle school, the two of you were eager to leave the building. The idea of grabbing steamed buns had unraveled itself in your mind, and what better way to enjoy food than by sharing?

"Are you going to try out for any clubs?" Your elbow bumped against hers as you two walked the slowly emptying hallway. "I think I saw the girls soccer team holding tryouts soon."

Minari shrugged, but you could already see the thoughts pinging in her mind. "I might if I can."

See, the two of you had almost reached the staircase when it happened. Minari's long hair covered her view from time to time, so you were used to looking out for her while chastising the girl about the usefulness of a hairband. But what you didn't expect as you pulled the girl aside just as a gaggle of guys rushed by was the full strength of a short orange-haired boy catching you off guard and nearly sending you tumbling down the flight of stairs.

"I'm sorry! I - I didn't see you there!" He shouted, his hand coming out to latch instinctively onto your school uniform before you could be thrown back far. "And on the first day too... I'm so sorry! Please accept my apology."

You stared at the short boy standing before you looking positively green with anxiety and guilt. Minari was already calming him down with mentions of accepting his apology, but all you could focus on was the pounding beat of your heart and the tingling feeling in your legs from your near-fatal experience.

"Watch where you're fucking going next time, you rotten bell pepper," you muttered before pushing his fingers off your now wrinkled white shirt.

You had walked away first, Minari in tow, but not before catching the shine of his name tag, 'Hinata Shōyō,' and the wide-eyed stare on his face that sent shivers down your back.

From that day forward, every flash of orange around the school seemed to be followed by a glare on your end and a roll of eyes on his.

"You're in the way, pumpkin head." Your words cut through the chattering hallway and sliced at Hinata who in turn threw you a pointed look, something that all the First Year students knew by now was reserved for only you. "I'm trying to get to the library, but somebody's walking too slow. Aren't you supposed to be on the volleyball team?"

Hinata scoffed, but stepped aside to let you through. Dirty looks were all he had in his armory apparently as time after time after sending an insult or two his way, he held his tongue. You liked to think it was because he didn't have the proper brain cells to form a response, but sometimes you wondered if you were being too much.

Up ahead, Minari waved at you to hurry before all the seats at the library were taken. Shaking yourself of your thoughts, you walked over to her. Unbeknownst to you, while you shouldered your bag, your wallet tipped over and fell out at a certain somebody's feet.

Hinata picked up your ratty wallet, noticing it on the floor, and went to call out to you before catching himself. What did he care? Still, unable to ignore it, he pocketed your belonging making note to give it back to you later. Right now, he had a game to worry about.

Somehow you had ended up at the Karasuno vs. Aoba Johsai game during the Interhigh Preliminaries. Minari had dragged you up to the stands as discreetly as possible after convincing you that she wasn't feeling up to study. Considering she had her eyes set on a certain 5'10 blueberry, you were foolish enough to think that she'd wanted to take you some place fun.

Now as the two of you stared down at the game happening eagerly, you let out a sigh upon noticing Hinata. As if your day couldn't have gotten worse after misplacing your wallet, you were displeased to find that he was looking right back up at you with the same wide-eyed stare he had when you two had first met.

Shivers ran down your back almost as if on cue, and you tore your gaze away from him fully ready to leave the gymnasium and trudge back home. But had you turned away, you would have missed the freakish oddball combination execute their quick attack.

"Holy shit," you breathed. "What the fuck was that?"

Minari smirked. "Tobio-kun is a great setter, isn't he? Or were you too focused on Mr. Bell Pepper to notice."

You shot her a frosty look, pushing down the stuttering emotion starting to rise in your chest that most definitely did not feel like anger. "As if."

The game continued for what seemed like days but turned out to be hours at most ending at a score of 1:2 in Aoba Johsai's favor.

Deafening silence overtook your ears. Minari was quick to leave the stands, mumbling something about consoling the fallen setter while your eyes searched for some semblance of sunshine in Hinata's sullen ones.

Spotting his sunken expression, you felt yourself regret the hatred that had sparked for him for just a moment. A fleeting moment that buried itself in your heart, planting a seedling of growing doubt.

"Minari, we have to catch the bus back!" You called out to your friend as you joined her on the gymnasium floor.

She glanced your way, halting the conversation she had began with her Tobio-kun. "Two minutes, and then we can go. Please?"

You nodded despite feeling discomfort crawling up your spine at being surrounded now by those you didn't know. You settled by the door, checking your phone mindlessly to pass the short time only looking up when an outstretched hand came into view.

"You dropped this earlier." Hinata's words were short, sharp, and you were suddenly glad you had never been on the end of his scathing remarks. "On your way to the library," he continued.

"Oh," was all your malfunctioning mind could come up with as he took your open hand in his, placing your wallet gently in your palm. The warmth of his skin seemed pressed into your own even after he had started to stalk away.

Clearing your throat, you spoke before you could stop yourself. "You did well today. I - uh," you paused. What were you even saying? "I watched from the stands."

He offered you a soft smile, one that you realized could light the world aflame, before walking back to his awaiting team.

You placed your hand over your drumming heart, sedating the flustered feeling he had left behind with you, chanting in your mind over and over again that Hinata Shōyō was a menace and you had no plan to ever like him let alone fall for him.

But no one ever plans to fall in love.

The Karasuno Boys Volleyball Club seemed to practice non-stop funnily enough, rather motivated by their loss from months ago instead of despaired. Minari had become a regular face during practice as she cheered the boys on in an attempt to woo Kageyama still, and by fault, so had you.

"Y/N, Tangerine's on his way over here." Minari nudged you, stealing your attention from the workbook open in your lap.

You shrugged, trying to focus on anything other than your slowly rising heartbeat. "Why? Did the coach bench him for his subpar plays?"

"No, actually Tangerine wanted to give you something but he's currently reconsidering."

You looked up immediately, eyes narrowing upon noticing Hinata standing in front of you with a small smirk. "You're looking really fucking smug for a guy who still needs to work on his skills. Kageyama says you lack basic technique."

Hinata rolled his eyes at you. "You're being rude."

"It's because I don't like you," you answered smoothly. "So get back to practice before you lose any more volleyball brain cells."

He let out a small laugh. Turning away, for a moment you thought he'd actually leave as simple as that, but just before he took another step, he tossed something your way. It fell on top of your workbook, smacking against the thin pages, causing a couple of the boys to look your way while Hinata jogged back to the net.

Minari leaned in closer to you. "He got you—" She cocked her head in confusion. "A wallet?"

It was a deep shade of orange that almost made you laugh out in irony. Detailed with card slots and a latch with snapping buttons, the wallet was definitely an improvement from the one you had right now.

"That's sweet... right?" Minari questioned, watching your expression as you opened the wallet to reveal a note — scratchy handwriting on a scrap of notebook paper.

'thought your wallet looked ratty old. not in a mean way of course!!!!

— your favorite, Pumpkin Head Shōyō

ps. my sister picked out the color :p'

"Stupid fucking carrot," you whispered under your breath, feeling your cheeks grow warm at his message. "I don't need a new wallet."

Minari scoffed at your words, turning to face you completely and taking your hands in hers with seriousness. "Be honest with me." You stared at her blankly. "Be honest, and tell me if you actually hate Hinata as much as you say you do. Why don't you just drop the act? You two obviously like each other enough to be friends, so why keep this all up? Isn't it tiring?"

Her words echoed through the hallways of your mind minutes, hours, and days after. Sitting at your desk in school, on your walk home, lying in bed staring up at the ceiling, they were as loud as life itself.

You thumbed the straps of your bag while waiting for the bus. The sun was slowly dropping from the sky, setting on the horizon leaving you in a thoughtful orange haze.

You two obviously like each other enough to be friends, so why keep this all up? Isn't it tiring?

The weeks following were conflicting and chaotic. Exam season settled on Karasuno High School jolting the students and staff into a cloud of stress.

You spent your spare time at the library, eyes boring into material that just wouldn't stick while a certain rotten bell pepper took his seat next to you.

"I have to pass my finals or Sugawara senpai is going to nail me to a wall," Hinata explained, spreading his notebooks out on the desk and bumping his elbow against yours in the process. "You do well in your classes, right? Do you — " He looked abash. "D - Do you mind helping me?"

Against your better judgement, you nodded. Looking back now, you suppose that's where your odd friendship began.

Days on end, the two of you would stay behind to cycle through the material slowly building a tolerance of each other much to everyone's surprise.

"Do you still hate me?" The question came one night, the weekend before his exams.

Hinata looked at you from where he sat on the swings, kicking his feet at the sandy grounds. The two of you were at the park, cooling off after a long study session.

Your eyes fell to the can of convenience store coffee in your hands. The slight of the passing breeze drilled his question further in your mind.

"No, I don't think so," came your answer, words wobbly and unsure despite the thrum of your heart beating loudly against your chest and the warmth in your cheeks.

Silence filled the space between you two before Hinata finally spoke up again.

"Then do you like me?"

Your body felt lit aflame, mind jumping immediately to the way he made you feel things you hadn't much before. "As a friend," you decided after a moment of flustered emotions. "We're friends, I guess."

Hinata nodded thoughtfully. "Well, I like you." He took a deep breath. "As more than a friend, but if you feel that way then I'll wait for you. We have time."

His confession became lost among the flurry of thoughts and colliding emotions raging on inside you. Before you could say anything in response, Hinata got to his feet, shooting you that now familiar smile of his and offering you his hand.

The new year overwhelmed your senses like a storm of rain after a drought. Refreshed after the break, you returned to school with a new sense of purpose amplified by the motivation the new year always brings.

Hinata's confession had remained in your mind, pushed to the back by celebration but still bugging you every so often. The apricot haired boy had showed up, throwing ping pong balls (of all things) at your window to catch your attention over the break asking if you wanted to go grab something sweet with him. You promptly responded with a rejection, only to find yourself walking with him ten minutes later.

"How was your break?" Minari asked, bundled in a jacket, scarf, and hat. She joined you at your side, catching you on your walk from the bus stop to school.

You shrugged, pulling your puffy jacket closer to you. "It was okay. You?"

She smiled. "Hung out with Tobio-kun. We went for hot chocolate, and he taught me how to set." Her eyes seemed almost dazzling at the memory, and you laughed, pushing her lightly away.

"You and your Tobio-kun are positively gross," you said. "Absolutely—"

Your words were halted at the feeling of warm fabric settling around your neck and a known face popping up beside you with a proud smile.

"Stay warm. You can give it back to me later," Hinata said before jogging away to catch up with a pair of Second Year boys ahead.

Your hand came up to the green scarf around your neck, failing to form comprehensive sentences. Heart thundering, you ignored the funny looks others sent your way. Glancing at Minari, you caught her slipping giggles.

"What happened to Hinata Shōyō being a rotten bell pepper?"

"Shut up."

Lending you his scarf when days seemed too cold was just the beginning of it all. Days turned into weeks turned into months of Hinata pining after you and you—though obvious to everyone else—trying to decipher your feelings for him.

"Hey, I missed you," Hinata said to you lightly after you had agreed to drop something off for Kageyama on Minari's behalf. Quickly realizing the meaning of his words, however, Hinata corrected himself. "I mean—um, as in I m - missed you earlier. Like... like I didn't catch you today, you know?"

You tilted your head at him with endearment, a small smile playing across your lips at the sight of his blushing face. "Yeah, don't worry. I got it, sweet potato."

His flustered expression dropped. "You think I'm sweet?"

Your eyes widened, stuttering to form a response and correct yourself out of this situation you had suddenly been thrusted in. Luckily, Kageyama came to your rescue before you could embarrass yourself.

"Hinata, boke, stop flirting with Y/N!" The tall blueberry haired boy towered over Hinata with a menacing glare and a scoff. Kageyama turned to you with a blank look you took for an apologetic expression.

Shaking your head profusely, you put your hands up in surrender. "Ah, no worries, Kageyama. I—uh, I have something for you from Minari. She has classroom duties today, so she couldn't come herself."

Kageyama nodded, taking the wrapped bento box that Minari had prepared for him from your outstretched hands. He mumbled words of thanks before stalking off while muttering under his breath a colorful range of insults at Hinata who in turn sent him a funny face.

The Spring Interhigh was coming up, and you were sure the Karasuno Boys Volleyball Club was itching for redemption after what had happened last August. Deciding that you didn't want to interrupt their practice any further, you made move to leave only to stop at the feeling of a hand on your wrist.

Glancing back, you raised an eyebrow in surprise at Hinata's sudden action. "What are you—"

The tangerine boy had exchanged his lighthearted expression of just minutes ago with a look that you could only describe as properly motivated. "When we make it to Nationals, promise to give me a chance."

All around you, the gym seemed to fade until only Hinata was in your line of vision.

When we make it to Nationals, he had said, not if.

Unable to respond, you found yourself nodding because who were you to kid yourself at this point?

The Karasuno Boys Volleyball Club did, in fact, make it to Nationals, but unfortunately lost to Kamomedai High School in the quarter-final round while Hinata spent his time at the hospital.

Hooked up to an IV line and dressed in one of those flimsy hospital gowns, Hinata looked unusually weak laying down on the bed. The others had left not long after you had arrived though some took more convincing than others.

"Next time, you can keep your scarf to yourself," you said, cutting the silence short with a lighthearted remark.

Hinata smiled weakly at that, his hand coming to rest atop your folded ones on your lap. "Don't worry about me. I'll be fine."

You shook your head. "Obviously, you can't take care of yourself." Slipping your hands from under his, you took the hand warmers out of your pockets and placed one in each of his hands. "Luckily, you got me."

His face lit up. "Oh, do I now?"

Warmth spread through your body as you looked away from his hopeful gaze. "Well, you did make it to Nationals."

[astringofmadhousefloozies]

Birthday Sequence

Three friends have their birthday in a month of each other, and the parties get progressively more interesting. Content warnings for coarse language, offscreen sexuality, underage drinking and the consequences thereof.

As always, check my Twisted Wonderland Fanfiction tag for more, let me know if you enjoyed reading, and if you want to chat or ask a question, my askbox is open.

~*~*~*~

"You look great."

Idia made a whine you were certain they could hear in Savannahclaw and put his face in his hands. "Why did no one tell me about the birthday event?"

"I dunno, because we'd all assumed you'd seen everyone else put on the prissy little birthday boy suit and dance around like an idiot while I did an interview, and realized you weren't exempt."

"But why didn't you make Crowley skip me?" He looked ready to cry, so you you got up on tiptoes to kiss his nose and dry his tears, which simply had the opposite effect.

"Because maybe I wanted to see you dressed up pretty for a change?"

He just groaned. "Wasn't the festival enough?"

"Never enough; not with you. I'll make sure me and Ortho are your bodyguards, okay? Now, get out there and pretend they're all in their underwear. I got a present on the table for you. And..."

"And?"

"If you're truly overwhelmed, I'll bring you back here to hide, and get you out of the monkey suit myself."

It took him three seconds to turn a truly absurd shade of pink, and flee out the door of his room. The only thing scarier than a crowd where you're the center of attention is a lover who's relentless in voicing her attraction, if you're a neurotic dweeb with a molten core of self-hatred.

~*~*~*~

He'd relaxed somewhat as the presents went on. After checking with each person if they'd rather he open it now or in private (shuddering every time someone said now, in fear of bad reactions), he'd so far wound up with a super mega deluxe vinyl release of the Moirai's most recent album (despite not owning a record player, but it came with the digital album and lots of feelers so he still liked it very much), piles of sweets, and wouldn't have to pay for the subscriptions on most of his game for at least two years. And, he still had a pile to go through.

"Who's this one?"

"That's me. Go ahead."

He lifted the lid off the box, and took out a little creature, a sofubi toy of transluscent grey plastic painted with pearly stripes and shiny green eyes. "I've never seen this Nyarochi before." He turned it this way and that, a small smile on his lips. "Where'd you get this?"

"I got it blank at that second hand shop you showed me."

"... Blank." You could see the gears turning.

"Why do you think I asked to borrow your airbrush?"

Turning, turning... there we go. "You did this?"

"Yeah, dude. One of a kind, just for you."

He looked back and forth between you and the toy, smile growing. Once finally settled on you, he lit up - literally; his hair let out a bright, sparking burst that left spots in your eyes. You think he might have said thank you, you were too busy reeling from the sweetness of his expression, all directed at you, and little Nyarochi was tucked in his jacket pocket until he finally left for his room, you in tow.

~*~*~*~

"Hey Sam."

"Hey, Yuu. What can I get for you this fine day?"

"I got a list. I'm making something for Lilia. Did you know he's a new year's baby?"

"I did!" Sam scanned the list, only to set it down and raise an eyebrow at you. "I have much of this, and can order almost all the rest. You do know I'm not allowed to sell alcohol to a minor."

"It ain't for me, though. Do you know where I can get it?"

He shuffled around in a drawer before sliding a card across the table. "In Stock Now! The solution to your problem."

It was your turn to raise an eyebrow. "Sam. Does Crowley know you're selling fake IDs?" Your turned it over. "Really, really good fake IDs?"

"Crowley lets me do what I want, because I might stop doing what he wants."

You laughed. "Gross. Alright, I don't know the price, but can I get a discount if I help you stock a few weekends?"

"I'll do layaway just for you, if you come in next week."

~*~*~*~

"Yuu!" Lilia leapt at you, and you swung him around in a hug. "It's so great to have you here! Where's my loot?"

"I got to finish it, let me go a minute."

He did, and watched with interest as you set up from your cooler. You ran a lime around the rim of a glass, and crust it with red salt before filling it with ice.

"Yuuuuuuu. My little darling. You know I'm too young to drink."

"No you're not, dude. it's an open secret, like what happens in that shed behind the gym stays there and you don't get admitted to NRC if you're completely heterosexual." You added the mix to the glass, before tossing in a celery stick and sliding it over to him.

He barked out a laugh and took the glass. "That's true all right." He sipped at it and smiled. "What is it?"

"At home they call it a Caesar. I made up a shitton and I'm leaving you with the recipe, which you have to follow. I figure you liked your tomato juice, so..."

"It is just my taste. Thank you." You'd only blinked, and he'd already finished it and slid the glass back. "More, please."

~*~*~*~

You'd learned two things tonight, of which you'd only dimly suspected one. The first was that Lilia could probably drink the entire school under the table, staff and ghosts included. The second, far more interesting thing, was that when tipsy, Lil talked about his past, and in his past, he truly redefined the meaning of "absolute slut".

Looking like a particularly cute teenybopper had not stopped him from fucking his way through most of the Court of Thorns, and a great deal of the places he'd visited, in ways both inventive and more than occasionally disturbing. You really, really ought to stop him; poor Mal was standing out on the balcony with his fingers in his ears, singing very loudly to drown out the noise, but you were too busy taking notes. Kalim was listening to his fellow Light Music Club member in awe, and Cater had been recording for the past forty five minutes, though you were pretty sure if he uploaded any of this his Magicam account would get permabanned for pornographic content.

"And that's when his sister - fabulous woman, cunt like a ripe fig and she'd start giggling every time you..." he stopped and swirled his empty glass. "Where'd my drink go?"

"You drank it all, dear. There's none left."

"Aww. Why'd I have to share it all." He set his glass down and plucked the half-full one from in front of Silver's sleeping form. "Hey, did I ever tell you what I got up to with his," nodding out towards Malleus,"his grandmother?"

You never found out, as Mal simply bodied him clean across the room before any more could be said.

~*~*~*~

"Vil."

"What."

"Can I borrow your lab equipment?"

He narrowed his eyes. "Why."

"I wanna make perfume."

He brightened. "Finally decided to stop smelling like a haunted house?"

"Vil, I actually pay real money for perfume that smells like a haunted house. I have multiple. Sometimes I layer them, to mix with the natural scent of the haunted house I already live in. And it's not for me, though if this works I might try to make stuff for myself."

He wrinkled his nose at you, somehow not creasing his makeup. "Why should I help you?"

You thought about it, and then shrugged. "Well. Why not?"

"... I hate that I can't argue with that. Come on."

~*~*~*~

You have no idea if the party was sedate because of the relatively few people outside of Diasomnia, or because everyone was scared of potential etiquette breaches. You could not complain either way; parties wore on you as they went on and Idia hadn't tried to leave in fear. Either way, Mal was starting to go from blandly cheerful host to fretful.

"What if there is too much cake? I don't wan't to have to finish it."

"You don't have to, dude. Cake's for sharing."

"When I was young, I was the only person at my party who wasn't a servant. So I would end up eating the entire cake by myself, every time." He stared off into the middle distance. "I don't really like cake."

"That's the single saddest thing I have ever heard in my entire life, holy shit dude."

"Why have a cake then, if you don't like it?" Idia was halfway through his piece. Third piece, actually. You envied his capacity to eat what seemed like his weight in buttercreme and not get nauseous, even if you worried for his pancreas.

"Tradition," Mal said, as if he was explaining the most obvious thing in the world.

"You should have done an ice cream cake, then. You actually like that."

"That is an option?" He paused, eyes full of wonder. "What else can be ice cream?"

You cut in before Malleus could continue down a road of ice-cream-everything. "You know, if you're that worried about leftovers, why not send a wrapped slice with the thank you cards for the gifts? Gets rid of it all so you won't be compelled to eat it ‘til you're sick."

Mal instantly grabbed you. "You are a brilliant, amazing, genius of a person. I'm glad you're my Son of Man and I like you very much."

Idia gave the tinest of coughs, looking towards the poison-coloured flames in the fireplace.

"You are mine too. I like the special case for my Dragon-Kun very much."

"Thought you would." He smiled down at his plate.

"Oh, shit, yeah. Here's mine." You brought the bag out from behind your seat and handed it over; Mal shredding it in his excitement.

"... What is this?" the box inside revealed a set of five amber bottles with screw-on tops.

"Your own special perfume blend. Rose petals from the Heartslabyul garden, blackberries, and the fruit of a blackthorn tree." You leaned back in your seat and struggled not to laugh at your own hideous pun. "I call it Feeling Thorny."

Good thing the box was well padded, because he dropped it in his laughter. Idia, bless his heart, wound up choking on some of the cake and needed an entire glass of water to stop coughing.

"I got the goods!" Lilia and Sebek had returned, the latter glowering at you over the top of a dusty crate as though he'd assumed you'd simply eat his precious prince alive the second his back was turned.

"What's the goods, Lil."

"Well, he's got friends he made here for this party, so I figured I'd crack something open from my stash." He pried the top of the crate with his bare hands, which would have made you need to sit down if you hadn't been already. "Saving this for a special occasion."

"Lilia, there's no need to bring that out for us."

"Nonsense! You deserve it! And this party's too damned slow. A little wine will be just the thing, and this is very light stuff, you'll all be fine."

You doubted that, but still accepted the glass of liquid gold when offered. It smelled sweet and floral, and to your pleasant surprise, did not taste like fermented misery when sipped.

Wait a minute.

"Lil, if I drink the fairy wine, I don't have to go live in the Valley of Thorns forever, do I?"

Malleus, seizing opportunity, sad "Yes" at the same time Lilia said "No" and Lil elbowed Mal in the ribs for it. "I'm not invoking any of our more traditional rules of hospitality. If I must," he said, elbowing Mal again before he could try to weave anything, "Let this be in return for being such wonderful friends to both me and my boy."

"I'll accept it." You sipped more as Silver wandered over and leaned over Idia for a glass himself. Idia simply drained his own to try and distract himself from the proximity of him before the anxiety kicked into high gear. Maybe it would vanish entirely if you got him profoundly drunk, you thought to yourself, but that wasn't something you wanted to try. He had enough issues without his deciding alcoholism was the solution to his problems.

Time to settle down and enjoy the evening. The wine didn't feel like anything, so what could possibly happen?

~*~*~*~

You woke up with a pounding head, your party clothes in disarray, and new and interesting pains. You examined yourself and your surroundings, and let things come back naturally.

Lilia, being very generous with his bottles, to the point of not letting a glass go empty at any point. Malleus sitting with his legs crossed and head in his hands, gazing warmly and not without hunger at a both very animated and disheveled Idia as he talked. You getting up to leave, and sitting right back down because your legs didn't work, so you'd simply...

Simply wound up here in Mal's bed, instead of home. With both of your boys.

The evidence wasn't the best. No telltale soreness, but you had a number of new and interesting bite marks, including one very high on your inner thigh with the dentition clearly showing fangs. Your underwear was in place, even if the tule of your pannier was shredded, so you didn't think you'd done anything more than very heavy petting. And to tell the truth? The idea of having done anything more didn't bother you - truly, there weren't other people you'd rather have done it with - but the idea that you had? And you couldn't recall all the fun details? Agonizing.

You leaned over, holding your head, to brush the hair off of Mal's face. He looked at ease, and had managed to slot himself into his weird pillows, so at least he wouldn't wake up with a crick in his neck.. You checked your boyfriend, clinging to Mal's far side like a lanky blue limpet. On his collarbone, at the spot where you preferred to leave your own marks, was a bite similar to the one on your leg. You had to turn away at the sight; the images it brought to your mind left your flushed and dizzy with want despite your pain. How fun, to learn new and interesting things about yourself.

Idia stirred and sat up. He looked to you, to Mal, to you again. His face had no expression beyond starting to turn rapidly grey and sweaty.

You pointed. "That door."

He nodded once before stumbling off to bed and through the bathroom door, to puke away his hangover.

Alright, next step. You poked at your sleeping friend. "Mal. You alive?"

He opened both eyes, bloodshot with a hair-thin pupil, and started making a noise akin to a base boosted tea kettle up 'til you placed a pillow over his head to shut him up. Fortunately, it worked immediately, he lay where he was like an idiot until adjusting it so the pillow merely blocked the top of his face.

"Yuu. How are you feeling?"

You thought about it. "Like I got run through a laundry press. You?"

He smacked his lips and ran his tongue over his teeth. "My mouth has grown fur."

"Wonderful."

"Light hurts."

"Par for the course."

"I'm not sure what else yet. Where is Shroud?"

Another bout of heaving from Malleus's bathroom answered that thoroughly.

Mal pouted. "Poor thing. He didn't even have that much."

"We all had enough. I'm still remembering bits and pieces."

He reached towards you and grabbed your arm, squeezing. "You are... you..." As much as he struggled for the words, the anxiety in his voice made the meaning clear enough.

"I'm not upset over any of it. I just hate that I don't recall it clearly yet." You extracted your arm from his grasp, and slid off the bed. "I'm gonna get water from the hall bathroom. You want any?"

He smacked his lips again, and smiled, wider than you'd ever seen him do before, specks of blood still crusted in the grooves of his teeth. "I can still taste you on my tongue. I never want it to fade."

"Hhhhhholy shit you need water. Bye." You left to try and hide the wobbling in your legs that wasn't from the hangover.

~*~*~*~

"You."

You stopped, and stared. It took an entire four seconds to realize that the large, half-dressed green bean glaring at you from the doorway was Sebek before he styled his hair in the morning. "You mean like, my name, or just me in general?"

He pointed a finger, hissing out his words. "You finally did it! You evil little minx."

"I didn't, actually, or at least not what you think."

He kept going, trying to keep his voice down. "You've seduced Lord Malleus! And now you're going to try and steal the crown."

What in the actual fuck. And he wasn't done yet. "You cruel temptress! Leading him on just so that you could become a queen our people would detest! My poor lord, at the whims of some-"

"Hey, you jealous there, Zig? You mad you aren't serving him all ways? If you want his dick so bad-"

"Shhhhhhhhh!" He looked over his shoulder, back inside, before glaring back at you. "I couldn't do that in good conscience! Lord Malleus deserves someone who holds only him in their heart. He's not my whole heart, so I wouldn't try. You, you have damn near everyone here wrapped around your fingers! And it's still not enough for you!"

"Sebek! He is my friend. And I give zero fucks about the whole throne thing, just so you know. Why would I want to be a queen? That shit sounds exhausting. And he isn't going to ascend until my great grandkids are in the dirt, so, yanno, shit planning if I tried."

Sebek was trying to think of a rebuttal when a pair of hands squeezed him from behind. "Stop yelling. I'm going to brush my teeth." Silver let go and circled around, dragging his hand along Sebek's waist as he did. "Be ready when I'm back." With that, he walked past you with his small smirk to the bathroom you'd just exited, wearing nothing but one of Sebek's shirts.

You watched the hemline skirting the back of his thighs with entirely too much interest before looking back at Sebek. "God damn, dude."

"Say anything else and I will throw you out the window."

~*~*~*~

Mal had traded his bed for sitting on the floor, braced against the wall by the bathroom. He'd managed to close the drapes against the garish light of morning, and the sounds from beyond the wall had changed from sickness to a running shower as you gave Mal a cup. "Drink up, asshole."

"How am I an asshole?"

"Because it's your birthday we all got drunk at."

"Please blame Lilia for that. Fairy wine is not something humans should start the evening with." He sipped the water and grimaced.

"Taste bad?"

"I forgot I didn't want to put anything else in my mouth after you."

"Mal, no. There won't be a repeat, even if I don't really regret it."

He looked at you with heart about to break. "Why not?"

"It's not fair to either of you! I love you dearly, but I'm not in love with you. I'm in love with him." You sighed. Even as more of last night came back, you realized you may have broken the whole thing beyond repair. "And how would you like it if you saw me running around with someone else? Don't say you wouldn't be jealous. You've got a five mile streak of it."

Mal was silent, before saying very quietly, "I don't mind so much after having him too."

"Yeah, well." You put your head in your hands. "You're sure he didn't jump out the window to hide in his room forever after that?"

Mal knocked againt the door, wincing at the noise. "Idia? You are present? You're alive in there?"

A few moments before that shaky reply of "I'm not sure, check in five minutes."

Mal smiled. "That's promising, is it not?"

"You know I can hear you out there, right?"

"I didn't."

"I can." More silence. "Also, the window doesn't open."

You quirked your mouth. "Is the shower helping? I might need a turn."

"Some."

"Do you want to talk about last night?"

More silence, before a small, "Not yet," as the shower shut off. "Can I borrow a robe? My clothes are wet."

"Go ahead, Idia."

He exited in a cloud of steam and purple-black terrycloth, and simply laid down on the floor, gripping it as if he would fly off.

"Still bad?"

He noded, cheek pressed against the floor. Fresh from the water, his hair was low enough that you could make out the actual hair on his head, each glowing like the finest fiber optic thread.

"Well. I don't think any of us are going to class today. So stay as long as you need to."

"Thank god, I don't want to try those damned stairs until my head's on right." You thought to yourself for a moment. "Is Ortho okay?"

Idia actually managed a smile. "I told him I was thinking of staying over and trying to activate event flags."

It took you a moment to understand the implications of that. "Noooo. This was not your idea."

"Mal wasn't. But. Ummmmm." He held up a hand and wiggled it. "He was there?"

"Your boyfriend is interestingly pliable when someone puts their mouth on him. A trait you both share, actually."

You felt ready to burst into flames. This could not be happening. "So who's idea was you getting under my skirts, Mal? That bruise is going to last weeks."

"Yours, actually. You wouldn't let go of my horns until you were satisfied."

The memory of that, and more, hit you like a transport truck, and you simply laid down and refused to say anything until Lilia burst in, disgustingly chipper and with a platter of burnt toast to chew on until the worst of the hangover was gone.

[xxisxxisxxis]

Gateway Drug | Part Eighty-Four

Words: 4K

Warning(s): Drug abuse (Overdose), explicit language, suicide attempt

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Duff and I move like the speed of lightening, him getting his pants on and me just putting my panties on and his t-shirt that got pulled off, before we rush next door with Steven, seeing people scrambling out the door, into connected suites, flushing drugs, all while Sally and Slash are working on waking him up, smacking at his face, to no avail. 

"Wh-What happened?!" I ask them. 

"Someone fucking shot him up and he fell out." She states.

"Who?" I ask and she sighs. 

"Vivian, we really don't have time for questions, help me get him to the bath." She says just as I'm looking over her shoulder where we're crouched over Nikki, to see Sparkie, shock on his face. 

We make eye contact and I just know he did this. 

"Vivian!" She snaps and I'm back to reality, helping them to drag him to the bathroom all while Sparkie takes the opportunity to get out of dodge. 

Suddenly Slash starts crying hysterically, clearly drunk and under the influence of many different substances. 

"Slash, calm down." Sally assures him as we get some cold water on Nikki's body, Duff and Steven still slapping at his face. 

"Damn it, Nikki." Duff mumbles, trying to keep himself calm. 

"Slash," Sally repeats as he starts getting louder and louder to the point it's hard to focus on the issue at hand. 

She stands and goes to the bathroom door, and Slash stops crying in a second. 

"I'm sorry to knock him out but the last thing we need is to get hysterical over this, we can get him back if we try hard enough." She assures us. 

After another minute and nothing's changing, I get uneasy. 

"The ambulance is on the way." I hear someone say over the noise of the running water and the blood throbbing in my ears from my mind racing.  

My heart feels like it's about to burst, my lungs feel flat, like they don't have the muscle to expand and let me catch my breath.  

Duff's t-shirt that I'm wearing is soaked with freezing cold water, Nikki's grayish-yellow skin now blue…  

Steven tries to knock him awake with his cast--from an injury he'd gotten earlier this week--before me, Sally, Duff and him get Nikki from the cold shower and get him back in the living room floor, tearing at his shirt and the buttons fly off.  

"Holy shit." Steven says just under his breath as I go to start cpr but I'm stopping when my hands hit something like ice. 

I quickly see what it is and I nearly fall back.  

It's my crucifix that I thought I had lost when I left it in Duff's hotel room a couple months ago…

"He knows." I say it with a panic in my voice, beginning to hyperventilate. "Duff, he knows." 

Duff looks at me, confused and frantic before he eyes the crucifix and if he had time to think about it, he would. 

"Viv, just stay calm." Steven tells me as Sally starts pumping on Nikki's chest. 

"C'mon, Nikki," She pleads by the fourth round. 

Nothing. 

"C'mon, I'm getting tired." She states and Duff takes over while Steven waits by his head for any sign of life. 

"Nikki, I swear to God if you die," I threaten him, running my hands through my hair, tears streaming down my face as I look at the smidge of blood on his forehead from where Steven tried to wake him up. 

"Let me try," I sniffle as Duff continues chest compressions and in between rounds of compressions, I try mouth to mouth resuscitation. 

The more time that passes, the deader he looks. 

"He's not waking up," I tell them, my adrenaline starting to wear off a little. "Nikki's not waking up, what else do we do?" I refuse to give up, looking to them for plan B. 

"Shhit." Steven sighs out, sorrow in his quiet voice as he starts to pace. 

It's very evident they don't have a plan B as ambulance sirens wail in the distance, coming closer and closer at the speed of light. 

"We let the paramedics try to bring him back." Sally says, continuing CPR, and the thought paralyzes me. "And if they can't then…" 

She doesn't finish, as if not wanting to entertain the possibility of Nikki dying tonight. 

Within the next minutes, medics are all but busting the door down with a gurney. 

Duff pulls me out of the way and I await them to start CPR, or pull out a magical pill that they shove down his throat and he magically comes back to life. 

They check his pulse while listening to his heart with a stethoscope, and look at each other. 

"Call it." The first one sighs out and my reality is beaten into me with a two ton hammer. 

My body and mind disconnect, my heart wrenching in my chest as my soul screams out through my throat, struggling to get away from Duff, as I plead, "Nikki, don't leave me!" 

"This is Nikki Sixx, he's not dying on my watch!" The other medic snaps to the first one over my cries. "Grab some adrenaline!" 

"Nikki, I love you, I love you, please don't leave me!" I shriek, my throat raw as I claw against Duff, trying to get away so I can go to him. 

"He's been out for too lon--"

"He's not dying tonight!" He barks over him and reaches for their bag, uncapping a long needle and plunging it into Nikki's heart. 

Nothing happens. 

What my new normal is about to look like flashes through my mind and I can't bear to even imagine what living in a world without him would be like. 

"Vivian!" Duff screams as he, Steven and Sally scramble to pull me away from the balcony railing overlooking a thirty foot drop as I keep a white knuckled grip on the steel railing, trying to pull myself away from them. 

"Let me go with him!" I scream at them, trying to kick them away from me. 

Paramedic number one sedated me while paramedic number two shot another dose of adrenaline into Nikki's heart...he came back to life while I was subconsciously praying I'd lose mine.

When I wake up, my head's groggy, my heart hurts, and my body just feels heavy. 

I'm in a hospital bed, confused for a moment, until it all comes back to me in a sudden, thundering moment. 

Tears come to my eyes, panic kickstarting the pounding of my heart as I try to sit up. 

"Hey, hey," I hear my dad say, getting up from the chair next to the bed to see me, and I look at him, confused. "They called me a few hours ago he explains." And I nod, my lip shaking as tears steadily roll down my cheeks. 

"Is he…" I can't finish my question, scared of the answer. 

"They got him back." My dad assures me with a nod and relief floods my body. 

"Oh, God," I close my eyes and my dad hugs me tightly, my face buried in his shoulder. "Oh, God, thank you." I acknowledge God for the first time in a while, my heart tensing at the sorrow I was so close to facing in a reality where Nikki was dead. 

"I'll go tell the nurse you're awake, they wanted to ask you some questions." He tells me after a moment and I nod. 

He kisses my forehead and gives a reassuring smile before stepping into the hall. 

I wipe my eyes and a doctor is stepping in behind my dad in a matter of moments.

He asks me questions about whether or not I've been suicidal in the past, if I'm still taking my antidepressant...I just say, "I've never tried to kill myself, I've never thought about it" and "No, I'm not on Nardil anymore, it made me worse." 

He decides my attempt at hurting myself was a spur of the moment panic, not a contemplated plan come to fruition at unlikely timing, and with a referral to a new Psychiatrist, they let me out of the psych wing of the hospital. 

Steven, Slash, and Duff are waiting in the waiting room of the E.R., and when we get down there, Duff sees me and stands up, stepping to me slowly before quickening his pace, wrapping me in a vice grip of his arms when he gets to me...I feel a few of his tears against my temple as he holds me. 

When we pull away, I look at my dad, and he looks away from me for a moment, eyes on the floor, brows furrowing slightly…

"I'm just gonna go home with my dad for a few hours." I tell Duff quietly, wiping my tears and he does the same, nodding. 

I give his hand a squeeze before stepping to Steven and Slash, who're both standing hesitantly...guilty expressions on their faces. 

"We're sorry for scorin--" I shut Steven up, hugging him to me and he squeezes me. 

"You could've ran like everyone else but you didn't." I point out, my voice hoarse from screaming during the night. "He probably wouldn't be here without you caring in the first place, so thank you." I add, looking at him, his tired eyes. I don't think he's slept at all. 

I hug Slash next, feeling sorry for him since he and Nikki are like brothers at this point. 

"They said he should be alright." He tells me. 

"Dad told me." I reply. 

"It used to happen to me all the time." He says next. "I just didn't think it'd happen to him like that." He adds. "That bad, I mean." 

"He's sick, Slash." I repeat Duff's words, finally accepting the fact that Nikki really is sick. "He's just sick." 

I finish saying bye and me and dad make our way to his car, and he fumbles in his pocket for the keys, getting it unlocked and I get in, staring at the windshield. 

Dad gets in next and shuts the door, completely silent. 

"It's been happening since September." I tell him, lowly, and something tells me he knows exactly what I'm talking about. "Me and Nikki separated after the Vanity thing happened in July and Duff and I started seeing each other in September." 

"Does he know?" He asks and I sigh. 

"I didn't think he did, until last night." I reply, feeling ashamed, sniffling.

"Can I tell you something I haven't told anybody before because your mother swore me to FBI level confidentiality?" He asks and I nod as he hands me a paper towel from his pocket. 

"Your aunt Lily didn't get into heroin from her boyfriend she was head over heels for, they did it together, but he's not the one that introduced her to it." He admits and I furrow my brows. "Your mother was on methadone for part of her pregnancy with you." 

"What?" I nearly snap out, shock shuttering everything I've been taught my whole life. 

"She got untangled from that web by the time you were born because she wanted to be better for you, and that's why she's always been so hard on trying to have you make the right choices, she just didn't want you to end up like her, and when Lily kept struggling with drugs over the years, she felt like it was her fault because Lily grew up knowing Charlette was on it and she felt like she was the one who brought her baby sister into all of it--even though your mother was clean years before Lily even touched it. Then you and Nikki getting engaged, she just…" he trails off, sighing. "...I don't know, she just has her own demons she fights with, still, I guess. But she does love you, Vivian. And everything she's done has been to try to protect you from making the same mistake she did--even if it wasn't worth the emotional turmoil you went through, and there's no excuse for it. And I know I didn't protect you as much as I could have from her, as much as I should have, I was just used to being with her for so long...I took things with a grain of salt, and I wasn't thinking that you were too young to understand that you just needed to do that with her sometimes. Even now, when she drives me up the damn wall, I still find some good in it, because I remember that it can be so, so much worse. She was so much worse at one point." He informs me. "My point is, don't be so hard on yourself. You had an affair--God doesn't hate you for it, you're not a bad person or a sorry excuse of a woman or any less of a Christian. You're human. God is well aware we are all human and don't make the best choices sometimes. And given that I've been you before, married to what seems like somebody you love one day and then the devil the next, I can see why you wanted something that wasn't weighed down with the burden of a goddamn demon like heroin." He adds and I try to blink back more tears. "So the question is, now what?" 

"I don't know if I still want a divorce." I confess, rubbing my lips together. 

"You think?" He asks, a little smile on his face. "You tried to throw yourself from a two story balcony so you wouldn't get left by your momentarily dead husband, and you think you don't want a divorce anymore?"

I find myself chuckling at his point, wiping my tears again. 

"I just want to get him back, Dad. The old him, because I feel like I've been married to a stranger."

"I think you need to go get help for yourself before you start trying to help him, though." He tells me next, reassuringly patting the crown of my hair. 

"Okay." I nod and he reaches over and hugs me, kissing my hair before pulling back, cranking the car, sniffling. 

"Alright, now, you're getting me teary eyed, you gotta stop that." He tells me and I laugh, just as a radio announcer states, "Last night, rock n roll bassist, Nikki Sixx, died of a heroin overdose at the Frankli--" my dad quickly cuts it off.

"I just wanna go home." I mumble.

"Alright." He replies, putting the car in reverse. 

"I mean home-home, Dad." I clarify and he looks at me. 

Mom was off at the women's Christmas dinner for church, so it was a perfect opportunity for Dad to have mercy on me and bring me back to the house I grew up in--that I hadn't step foot in for six years.

"You still haven't painted over that?" My finger traces over the measurements notched into the doorway of our living room. 

"Your mom wants me to, but I'm not." He replies, putting his keys on the counter. 

"Your mom won't be back for a few more hours. Why don't you go get some sleep that you haven't been induced into?" He suggests and I nod. 

I step into my old room, nothing's been touched. 

Dust has settled over old books, my desk, picture frames I didn't take with me...my bed is still unmade, exactly how I left it. 

I get on the mattress, laying my head on the pillow, smelling the perfume I used to wear in high school.

I turn over and stare at my window, remembering all the times Nikki's climbed in to see me, and helped me down when I was sneaking out. 

All the times Tommy would toss forbidden records up here for me to listen to when my mom wasn't here and the times my dad would help me out and hide them in his own stash of Charlette-band music. 

I miss being a teenager. 

I chew on the inside of my lip and look up at the ceiling, closing my eyes for a second. 

I end up falling asleep, waking up to a single knock before the door opens. 

The figure in the doorway is tall and lanky and at first I think it's Duff until I realize it's a brunette, his hair longer and more curly than Duff's. 

"Hey," Tommy lowly starts, and I hear Heather downstairs laughing with my Dad. 

"Hey," I sit up and he sits down on the bed next to me.

"So, I heard about Sixx." He tells me, slightly awkward, rubbing the back of his neck. 

"Everybody's heard about him." I mumble. 

"...I heard about you, too." He adds and I look at him. "I talked to Steven and Slash." 

"I'm fine, Tom--" 

"--Fucking knock it off, Vivian, damn it." He sighs out, standing back up, rubbing his face. "You're not fine. If you were fine you wouldn't have tried to do that." 

"I'm depressed, Tommy, I think everyone freaking knows I'm depressed, and I've been depressed for years now, I'm not suicidal but I'm not the most mentally stable at the moment and I panicked in a stressful situation and did something without giving it a second thought." I argue, my voice shaking. 

"Well, why not? Why not give it a second thought or something? You're not even together anymore." 

"Because it's him, Tommy, that's why." 

"You're not even together anymore, Viv--"

"--He's been all I've known for the past six years, Tommy, you can't expect six years of everything together to go away just because he fucked up." 

"What about us, huh? Me and Vince and Tansy? We've been friends for years. You and me have been friends for nearly twenty years, Viv, and you were about to make all of  it go away just because he fucked up." His voice cracks and I breathe out, my eyes watering as a result of him forcing back tears, rubbing his eyes. 

He plops back on the bed, and buries his face in his hands, his elbows on his knees. 

"I knew this would happen." He tells me next, sniffling. "I knew this would happen, and that's why I didn't want him going anywhere near you because I knew somehow, someway, he'd fuck you up, and he has. And I have, too, because I fucking let him." He adds, exhaling. "I know you don't want to live without him, but I can't live without you. And I know I've done a lot to push you away and I-I've taken his side over your's on a lot of shit but, Viv, you can't just decide to leave me without telling me, without giving me a chance to say 'goodbye,' and you can't…" he trails off, sniffling, quickly rubbing away at his eyes to block his tears from falling. 

I don't say anything, because I don't know what to say. 

I just wrap my arms around him, my cheek against his shoulder, my eyes closing as he starts crying quietly. 

I rarely saw Tommy cry, the last time I'd seen him cry until then was when Razzle died…I don't know if he was crying over Nikki nearly leaving us, or me, but he didn't brush it off. He just sat there for a few minutes and let himself actually feel stuff. No drugs. No alcohol. Just actually allowing himself to process.

The next morning I wake up in Tommy and Heather's spare bedroom, Heather on one side, Sharise and Skylar on the other…all of them curled up with me. 

It's heart warming knowing that I've managed to wrangle in some good, stable women into my life along the past several years. Making up for lost time with my mom and my aunt, I guess. 

I think back to what my dad told me yesterday about my mom. 

Who the hell would have ever thought that my mother would be into something like heroin at one point? 

Despite not being able to forgive her quite yet for everything she put me through, I know my dad was right: she was just trying to keep me in line so I wouldn't make the same mistakes she made. 

No wonder she lost her shit when me and Nikki went public with our relationship. All she could see was me losing myself in the money and access and swimming in melted black tar and China white. 

I scoot to the foot of the bed, careful not to wake the girls and I go to the hallway and grab their phone. 

"Hey, it's Nikki. I'm not here because I'm dead." Our answering machine beeps and I hang up, feeling a hole in my soul. 

At least he made it home alright, I tell myself, tired of crying. 

I hang up the phone and go to the kitchen to make some coffee, stopping by the counter to see "VIVIAN" written in big, black marker on a large manilla envelope. 

I furrow my brows and open the prongs, pulling the papers out. 

The top is labeled, "California Judiciary." 

[abraxos-is-toothless]

Congrats on 300! That's really amazing! Well done! Not surprised though, because your writing is super amazing! I especially love your undercover AU for ToG! My prompt is: "Really? Are you sure?" for Rowaelin, or alternatively another ToG ship, please?

I went with Rowaelin because, I’m trash for them. I’ve accepted that. Also thank you so, so much, I’m glad you like it. I really hope I did this prompt justice for you <3 Using my Undercover taglist here too.

---------

Rowan’s day had been rough, to say the least. It was also a Monday so, it was just a given, really.

First off, Aelin had been sick for, well, he didn’t know how many mornings in a row it was now, he’d lost count. He hated not being able to help her when she was sick; not knowing what to do, but she kept telling him she was fine. Clearly she wasn’t fine or he wouldn’t be holding her hair back every morning.  Aelin had promised him today before he’d left for work that she’d get it checked out, just to be sure. He had wanted to stay home, to go with her, to be there for her just in case it was something bad. His wonderful wife had just told him he was an overbearing buzzard and ‘to got the fuck to work’. There was no arguing with her, well he could try but, there would be no winning. And so he had relented, giving her a quick kiss to the forehead and telling her he loved her and dashing out the door before he was late.

And then he’d gotten to work.

He and Lorcan owned a Private Investigator firm, mainly specialising in missing persons cases. They usually found odd trails that the police couldn’t and if it was something solid, they passed on the information. Sometimes they were lucky and other times, not so much. Fenrys and Connall were in the building when he walked in and Rowan couldn’t stop himself from rolling his eyes. He had a new assistant, she was slim, tall, blonde and pretty he guessed. To be quite honest, ever since Aelin had walked into his life, other women weren’t even noticeable. He only saw her, only ever thought of her.  Every time he hired someone new, the twins were over at the firm in an instant, fighting to win them over. Unless it was one of the times Rowan’s assistant was a male, then it was an easy win for Connall.

“Can I help you two imbeciles, or are you just here to fawn over the latest recruit. If that’s the case, which I know it is, then please leave. Or, better yet, go up a floor and bother Lorcan.”

Fenrys simply laughed and shook his head, his hair swinging with the motion from where he’d tied it back, “But the ladies love me Ro, I mean, what’s not to love?”

Connall snorted, and then smirked when his brother turned to glare at him. “I’m the better looking twin Fen, we all know it.”

He was not about to deal with a fucking pissing match today. He sighed, deciding to get rid of them as quickly as possible, hoping it would give him the peace and quiet he needed to actually work. “Connall, Lorcan actually has someone new up there with him too.”

“Ooo, really?” The smug bastard perked up at that and Fenrys looked at him with suspicion, most likely knowing where this was going. “Yeah. Dark haired, dark eyes, glasses and he’s shorter than you. Very much your type. You didn’t see him the other week because he hides behind the filing cabinets when you come in, blushing like a schoolgirl.”

As suspected, Con moved like lightning, not even bothering to wait for an elevator and taking the stairs. He made a beeline for his office, pushing the door open as fast as he could, but just as he was closing it, a foot slipped into the little gap and he wanted nothing more than to murder Fenrys just then.

“Come on Rowan, you just set my brother up, you could at least help me out too. I thought I was your favourite?” He shoved himself through the door, walking over to sit in front of Rowan’s desk and kicking his feet up. Not that it lasted, especially when he was pushed out of the chair and onto the floor. Rowan laughed as the golden haired man rubbed his ass, staring up at him with a pout.

“You’ll do well to remember, boyo, that without me, you’d have never pushed yourself to even talk to a girl. Also my new assistant is very much off of the market.”

He sat down in his newly vacated chair and pulled out his laptop. His newest case was a woman who’d come in about two weeks ago, saying her husband had been kidnapped. She was in hysterics as she’d told him the story, saying the police wouldn’t help, and so Rowan had said he’d do what he could. He went over everything the woman had given him and then followed on from there. Phone numbers, addresses and different picture sightings. Turned out that her husband had not in fact been kidnapped but had run off with another, much younger woman. He’d known for a few days now and was currently trying to figure out how to tell his client in the easiest way possible.

Rowan was broken from his thoughts when a certain pest spoke from across the room. For fucks sake, why hadn’t he left yet?

“How’s my best bud doing Rowan?”

“I’m fine, thanks for asking, now leave.”

“Har har. Ace knows I’d choose her over you, she’s so much more fun, hence why we’re besties.”

Rowan flipped him off, still not looking up from his laptop screen as he replied, “Aelin is sick.”

He flinched when Fen shouted, gripping onto the side of his desk from the sudden outburst. “What do you mean she’s sick? She’s never sick!”

“Keep your fucking voice down, fucking Christ. She keeps throwing up in the mornings but I keep getting told that she’s ‘fine’. Clearly, she is not fine.”

“Oh. Oh.” Rowan watched his face turn from worried confusion into some sedated happy smile. What the fuck did he mean ‘oh’?

“What do you mean ‘Oh’? I have no idea what’s wrong with her so you possibly can’t, and stop smiling. Aelin’s sickness is not something to smile about.”

His idiot friend tipped his head back and laughed, a deep rumbling laugh and Rowan wanted nothing more than to throttle him. When he finally stopped and met Rowan’s gaze again, he seemed to realise that Rowan still hadn’t understood what was so funny. “Wait. You really don’t get it do you? How can you-”

The sound of Rowan’s phone ringing cut the man off and he was pissed off at the interruption, until he saw that it was Aelin calling him. His wife never called when he was at work, not unless he’d asked her to when he had a few minutes spare. He was pressing the answer button within seconds, heart beating wildly in his chest. “Aelin sweetheart, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing is wrong, I just need you to come home.”

If nothing was wrong then why did she need him to come back? It had only been a few hours since he’d left the house.

“Alright, I’m coming. Are you sure nothing is wrong?”

“Yes Buzzard, I promise. I’ll see you soon.”

He’d packed up as fast as he could, telling Fenrys that they’d talk later and to go and check that his twin wasn’t fucking the newbie in one of the bathrooms.

That was how he’d ended up here, bursting through the door of their newly purchased home. It was big of course, Aelin would have nothing less, but the interior was simple and modern. Quite tame for his very extravagant wife.

“Aelin, baby, I’m home!”

“In the kitchen!”

He ran through the halls, not even taking his shoes off which he would most certainly get reprimanded for later, and spotted his wife sitting at the bar eating a plate of pickles with a dip that looked like...peanut butter?

“You’re sick, why on earth are you eating that? Let’s get you back to bed.” His wife groaned and rolled her eyes, standing from her stool to walk over and grab a brown paper bag from the counter. She took slow steps towards him while nibbling on her lower lip, looking up at him shyly from under her lashes.

“I have a present for you.” Rowan stared at the brown bag in confusion, eyebrows furrowed as he tentatively took it from her hands. He didn’t open it yet, though he desperately wanted to.

“You made me come home because you wanted to give me a present? Couldn’t this have waited until later.” She shook her head, a giddy expression on her face.

“No, it couldn’t. Now come on, open it.”

He gave an exasperated sigh, almost forgetting he’d married a woman who had a talent for theatrics.  When he opened the bag, it had some sort of fabric inside of it, which confused him even more. Reaching in, he pulled it out carefully, before dropping the bag and unfolding it. It was  a baby vest and on it were the words ‘World’s Greatest Daddy’ with a sort of blurry black and white image printed onto the fabric just below. Holy fucking gods.

“Fireheart...really? Are you sure?” When he looked back at her, her eyes were lined with silver, and she nodded at him. He let out a shocked laugh before looking at the picture on the vest more closely. Now that he was concentrating, he could see the outline of a tiny foot and then a tiny head. No not just-

“Is that two heads? Two babies. We’re having twins?” Aelin let the tears flow freely now and nodded again and he laughed, scooping her up in his arms and spinning, relishing the sound of her delighted giggles. When Rowan set her back onto her feet, he dropped to his knees, leaving his face directly in line with her stomach. Lifting her top and leaning forward, he left a few gentle kisses to the skin before pressing his forehead there and whispering, “Hi babies, I’m your daddy. I want you to know that your mommy and I love you very much and that you are the most precious things in the world. I can’t wait to meet you, little ones.”

Aelin’s fingers threaded through the hair at the nape of his neck and tugged lightly until he tilted to look up at her and realisation dawned on him then. “This is why you’ve been throwing up in the mornings.”

“Yes genius, I thought you’d have figured it out by now. I had that scan about two weeks ago, secretly hoping that you wouldn’t figure it out because I was waiting for the vest to be printed. Luckily I didn’t marry you for your brains.”

He couldn’t stop smiling, it was making his cheeks hurt but fuck did it feel good. He took hold of his wife’s wrist, bringing her hand forward to kiss her palm and sighing contentedly.

“I love you, Fireheart, to whatever end.”

“To whatever end, Buzzard.”

--------

I really hoped you liked it and honestly, I sort of like this AU I’ve created, so feel free to send some other prompts set in this universe if you like!

Tags: @bryaxisthefaceofnightmares @fancyclodpaintercookie @empress-sei @acourtofterrasenandvelaris @tswaney17 @queen-of-glass @thesirenwashere @awkward-avocado-s @b00kworm @http-itsrebecca @eatmysandwiches @poisonous00 @flowersinvegas @julemmaes @mu-si-ca-l @spyofthenightcourt @sis-it-dont-add-up  @mad-madeline-ace​ @df3ndyr  @jesstargaryenqueen @notyournymphetish

[bitchassbucky]

.eps (cut)

Word Count: 1.7k

Warning/s: dark!bucky x dark!reader, MAJOR CHARACTER DEATH, blood mention, gore and dismemberment, murder, toxic/abusive relationship dynamics, sedation/drugging/use of sedative, stockholm syndrome-ish, one very special character reveal

A/N: this version of the epilogue is the 'clean cut' - there's a good chunk of it missing but it's not particularly important to the story. if you want to read the EXPLICIT version, there should be another one uploaded at the same time. (sorry, this is scheduled so i don't have the link yet lol)

follow the CTRL series:

i - .exe

ii - .avi

iii - .raw

iv - .png

v - .zip

CTRL playlist CTRL moodboard

Safeness, comfortability, warmth are all but a false sense of reality.

When a prey takes down its walls, the predator moves in. Camouflaged in familiar colors, in words that you’re used to hearing, in praises, in lies. Most predators use the mask of the night to move in darkness��unyielding and calculated. Come morning, there will be only one left alive, tainted with victory and bloodshed.

You and Bucky have been engaging in a dance for two—a battle of who’s willing to take the leap of faith and unleash hell upon the other.

Stifled smiles and pursed lips.

The air is filled with unsaid irritants, little things that ticked away like bombs.

There was no time for pleading, no time for mercy, no rest for the wicked.

Did you still love each other?

How far are you willing to go to keep up with his… complacency?

Bucky’s mundane life already taking a toll on you. The endless nightmares of him feeling you. The swirling vision of Bucky being with you every waking—and sleeping—moment: it grates your soul to shreds.

“We’ll be together forever, right?”

“Yes, darling.”

“What about the day after forever?”

“That too, honey.”

Where was the man you loved so deeply? The man that broke his morals just to be with you?

Was he under this hull of a Yes Man? A poor little thing that says ‘yes’ to everything like a puppy.

The man you held so dearly now slipping away, chipping his humanity, shedding the once-human.

“Would you marry me tomorrow if I asked you?”

“Of course, baby, why wouldn’t I?”

“Would you kill for me?”

“I’m meant to do the same for you.”

It’s irritating how Bucky gave up too quickly. Too fast, moving too fast. The gazelle let the lion tear its neck as it lay there, unmoving, letting the blood seep into its hide.

When you first met Bucky, it was your own fairytale unfolding before your eyes. Kismet, reality, forgiveness from above. He was soft and shy, passionate, lively.

Far from what you expected from a man his age—you blame Steve for forcing you into his narrative before. That all men are out to get you. They will hurt you. They will use you and leave you for good. But Bucky? Bucky came in like a knight. He saved you from the carcass of your past. He saved you from the sins that you prayed and knelt for.

Bucky taught you how to love.

Bucky taught you how to live for yourself.

Bucky taught you that being alone doesn’t mean you have to be lonely.

“It was an unspoken little thing, wasn’t it?”

“What thing, baby?”

“Our love.”

“Yes, honey, it was.”

He worships you.

He worships you like a fucking God and you hate it.

Suffocating, too suffocating. You dove straight for the water and now you’re drowning.

Do you still love each other? The question hangs in the air, heavy with its weight, light as a feather.

It’s all your fault. It’s all your fault. It’s all your fault. It’s all your fault.

You stand there with a syringe half-filled with a horse sedative. It’s a concern how easy it is to waltz into a pet store and pick up a general anesthetic. You make a mental note to look at it later.

Bucky’s body slumps forward, his forehead meeting the edge of the table with a dull thud. If the overdose doesn’t kill him, the weeping crack in his head will.

Holy fuck, humans bleed a lot. And fast. Good thing you already have that clear tarp taped down. Even with the hush money stuffed down your throat, it would take a good nick to regrout the kitchen.

“What is that for, honey?”

“I’m painting the cabinets.”

“Okay, darling.”

So you let him bleed, surprised that the liquid is redder than what you thought it would be. A soft gurgling noise came from Bucky, the last of air escaping his dead body. You stood there, syringe in hand, as you thought how to dispose of a six-foot-tall man without arousing suspicion.

Not that he’ll be missed anyway: the local news and the internet already branded him as a psycho and you as a victim. You were both victims in this fairytale. They reported his case as “skipped the town like the sicko he is.” So, no—no one’s going to look for him.

The sun was high up in the sky and there was a dead body in your kitchen.

A butcher and a surgeon walk into a bar for a drink. “What do you do for a living?” Said the butcher, “I save lives! What about you?” The doctor answers. “I save animals from dying slowly. We’re basically the same. You’re just very clean.” You see, the butcher comes into the bar covered in blood, reeking of death. The surgeon, on the other hand, wears his white coat with pride even though he’s surrounded by death every passing second.

Today was the day you learned that you have the tools of a butcher and the precision of a surgeon. Unlike before.

You carefully take Bucky’s fingers off of his left hand, leaving a skin flap on the edge of the last knuckle for you to stitch close later. Four promises. Four goddamn promises and he broke all of them.

It was his fault that he’s dead. He made you do this.

Placing the body into the trunk of a rental, you begin your journey to the end of your fairytale. Off to the woods, where you buried your first love. In a town where not everyone who dies leaves.

The drive to and from the place was tiring, to say the least. The internet connection of the diners was spotty at best. Locals were overly friendly with the city folks who came passing through their towns. The roads reek of roadkill and manure from the farm animals that were left to roam for fresh grass.

At least you get to come home in a spotless apartment, alone once again.

But not lonely.

Your space is yours again. No trace of anyone anywhere. Immaculately yours.

—

Humans are social creatures.

No one can truly be alone, especially in today’s world where we’re connected to everyone—whether we liked it or not.

Leaving your wretched job behind was an easy feat to do. No one can say no to the victim of such a vile crime. That’s all they saw you: a helpless little thing. So off you went; saying half-assed goodbyes and sending emails of courage and hope and fucking resilience.

Your resignation meant that the company’s free of any dirt from you, Bucky’s disappearance quickly becoming a joke and a rumor blending in one.

They let you leave: in your bank account a fat check ensuring that you’d shut up about the scandal for months until you can’t feed yourself no more. So you packed your bags and jet off without looking back. You never liked that apartment anyway.

Nevertheless, you found yourself looking into another dead-end job in one of the towns you stopped over before. It’s a charming place like time froze in their plaza while the rest of the world went on. You found a small studio apartment in a street tuckered away from the main avenue, you settled there as days became nights and nights turned into days.

You woke up one morning craving a healthy serving of coffee and pancakes, luckily the town’s local diner wasn’t far from your new home.

The coffee was too hot, the pancakes were amazing, fluffy, and just right. You’re sitting in a sunny booth, the warmth doing its wonders.

“Hi, can I get today’s paper, please?” Your voice is sweet as you call your server, giving her a quick smile.

A pair of Raybans adorn your face, unconsciously hiding behind its darkened glasses. The waitress gives you a thick stack of newspapers, refilling your cup with black coffee.

Upon opening the paper, you ignore the town’s headlines and go straight for the job postings. The door jingled open as patrons come in and go, waving to familiar faces.

Job Vacancy Announcements

Secretary to the Town Sheriff

You skimmed over the rest of the details, only noting the address of the office. The job looks quite lucrative for someone who would only take messages and organize files for the sheriff.

Looking over the job posting again, you read over the words walk-ins only. That shouldn’t be hard enough.

The diner looked deserted save from the man sitting behind your booth. Leaning over and tapping his shoulder, you put on a polite smile, “Hi, sorry, do you know how to get to the sheriff’s office from here?”

“Hello, darling.” The man croons in an accent, he looks over to you, “join me in my booth, will ‘ya?”

You’re in no position to reject his proposal, you’re the one who needed an answer.

Taking your coffee cup, you slide into his booth, “hi.”

“Just the face I wanted to see.” Clean-shaven, a hint of mint and smoke, and something woody; a worn leather jacket and white button-up shirt hugging his soft frame. “Some folks over on the apartment complex were talkin’ about a city girl wanting to rent a studio all by herself. That happen to be you?”

You look over to him, trying to understand how that small of news spread like a wildfire, “yeah. I moved in a week ago.”

He leans over, smiling sweetly as he unabashedly lets his eyes roam your features, “What’s a city girl like you doin’ in a place like this? I hope we ain’t too boring for you, gal.”

Chatty—he’s way too chatty.

“Just wanted a change of pace, really. Away from the bustle of the city.” You rustle the paper, clearing your throat to get back on the matter on hand, “so the sheriff’s office? Is it too far from here?”

“What business are ‘ya bringing into the office?”

“A job, actually. Says here that they’re looking for a secretary.” You might as well tell him everything, he seems too chatty to be dismissed over and over again.

“Well, darlin’, today’s your lucky day. No need to drive down the old road.” He reaches down to his seat, pulling up a brown hat, “Hi, I’m Sheriff Bodecker. Now, to whom do I owe the pleasure?”

You bite back a giggle, you’ve always wanted to be involved with the law.

[staliasjeronica]

Riverdale S5 Ep13 Thoughts *Spoilers*

Thoughts under cut to keep the tag clear <3

- Archie having war flashbacks 😭💔

- OH SHIT ERIC BEING IN A TRANCE AND PUNCHING ARCHIE AND ALMOST SHOOTING HIM :(

- Tabitha ❤️ I just know Betty’s going to not listen and get herself into shit because she never thinks things through. However, Betty in that trucker outfit looks so good. YUP predictable.

- Now how the fuck did Cheryl recognize Kevin in that darkness even I could barely see him fashdkfjsah also what the flying fuck Kevin?

- VEGGIE MUAH!!!!!! Though I’m taking Veronica saying “snake” as a Jeronica crumb bc I can

- CHERYL’S OUTFIT HOLY FUCK 🥵🥵🥵

- Now wait wasn’t the last last episode, Cheryl was saying how she didn’t like religion because of her mom am I just dumb what the fuck happened… god can Riverdale do anything other than annoying cults PLEASE

- Whenever Betty “investigates”, the other person always has the better plans God how did Betty become an FBI trainee...

- Wait why are they talking to Fangs, Toni owns the Whyte Wyrm...

- DOGGO 🥺🥺

- VEGAS DIED? NOOOOOO :(((

- “I’m a closer, give me a shot.” The one thing he’s wanted and he’ll get it from Veronica BYE VEGGIE IS SO ❤️❤️❤️

- Fangs ❤️❤️❤️ God he looks so fucking good ugh if only his boyfriend Sweet Pea could come back and date him smh

- Bingo? Archie’s platoon adopted a dog 🥺🥺

- Even though I’m a Jeronica first and foremost, Veggie will probably be endgame and while it sucks they never even TRIED Jeronica or gave them a chance, I won’t be upset.

- Well at least Kevin feels regret for what he did to Fangs. CHERYL DON’T TELL HIM TO GO TO “HIS MAN” NO STOP USING OTHER PEOPLE TO VOICE THE ADVICE YOU’RE MEANING TO USE FOR YOURSELF WITH TONI

- MOOSE’S BEARD… But also that’s so random but ehh better and way more interesting than Kangs tbh

- Veggie working together fucking finally!!!

- Five to fifteen damn Reggie… but fuck yeah taking her dad’s investors we love it! It took long enough for someone to finally go after Hiram like we’ve wanted this since s2

- “Ms. Posh.” WE STANNNNNNNN and again with the eggs yasss

- OMG WAIT VEGGIE IS MATCHING. IT’S THE JERONICA AGENDA

- Why are they acting like Fangs did something wrong 😭😭 you already know you’re not good together?? Just move the fuck on!

- OMG THEEY ALL LOOK SO FUCKING GOOD!!! serpent Alice is back? 👀 Kevin asking about Fangs god let him go please

- “Cardinal Rule, no one goes off with any truckers.” Okay so we know Betty’s going to do just that because she’s dumb af

- God Archie don’t be like Betty and do dumb shit...

- Tabitha owning the stage I know that’s true!! But also does anyone else know that Betty isn’t an FBI agent anymore like that is definitely gonna fuck someone else over

- You know who could be here to help? Sweet Pea.

- Veronica 💞💞💞💞💞💞💞 my wife AND HER HIGH NOTE QUEEN SHIT

- Dark!Barchie so sexy but dumb

- Isn’t it interesting how good it is when Betty investigates

- ngl I thought that was Chic. NO WAY THAT GUY’S DUMB ENOUGH TO HAVE BLOOD ON HIS HANDLE… also see wbk Betty was gonna go against her own rule and do something impulsively stupid.

- this dude really isn’t hiding anything how has he gone this far… first the blood, then talking about how he likes seeing the light leave people’s eyes when they die. Also, how does he get around to kill them like wouldn’t the girl’s see in the mirror? Again stop hitting people and turning your back! Though it’s really unrealistic that they get up after a few seconds.

- This fight is actually entertaining like omg?? But I KNOW Betty’s aim would not be that good but I guess since I’m enjoying this I can let it go.

- Wanna know WHY it’s enjoyable? Because Cole isn’t in this episode and there’s no Bughead whatsoever <3

- BINGO WASN’T A DOG OH MY GOD NOOO 😭😭😭😭 ARCHIE 😭😭😭😭

- GOD BETTY HANDING HIM OVER GIVES YOU THE POLLY ANSWER?? YOU’RE SO DUMB!!! Why does she always have to be so fucking dumb and selfish… like??? Can she ever just think for once

- Why would Kevin be fired for cruising…?

- GOD LET FANGS GO MY GODDDDDDDDD this is why I’m writing a Swangs drabble about this situation where Sweet Pea and Fangs get together

- Yeah Kevin you broke up with Fangs to fix your trauma and problems… to stop cruising… that was the whole fucking point??

- THEY’RE SELLING THE DOGS TO BETTER OWNERS AWW

- Bingo 🥺💞

- Jesus Christ Superstar……………………………. someone sedate me

- OH JUST FRIENDS?! THANK FUCKING GODDDD NO MORE ROMANTIC KANGS!!!!!! FANGS IS FREE!!!!

- WIFE AND KIDS HELLO?? GOD VEGGIE IS SO CUTE

- the cinematography of Archie’s nightmares is so good tho

- ARCHIE WAKING UP TO THE WINDOW OF LIGHT??? BETTY!??!?! BARCHIE?!??! HEELLOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO OH MY GODD

- Archie hallucinating Bingo 🥺😭 “I think I need help too” OMG YES now can we get Veronica

- “You’re in Riverdale” God Betty’s so fucking weird…