#but gOD i hate carpet GROSS AND BAD

[queen-mabs-revenge]

six months of haranguing later but i'm finally getting my moth-eaten carpet replaced today ✊😌

[dukealicious]

Lyrics for people you think about a lot- GO

Holy fuck, that's a lot. Okay..

Zტ: Tom's Diner (7" A)- "To the bells of the Cathedral. I am thinking of your voice." -> Amour Plastique- "Dans mon esprit tout divague, je me perds dans tes yeux. Je me noie dans la vague de ton regard amoureux. Je ne veux que ton âme divaguant sur ma peau. Une fleur, une femme dans ton cœur Roméo. Je ne suis que ton nom, le souffle lancinant. De nos corps dans le sombre animés lentement."

X₦oʌʎ: Die in a fire- "I really hate you, stop getting in my way. I've lost my patience, when are you gonna decay? I want to throw you out just like my broken TV. If you come back once more, it shall be painful, you'll see."

♩₦d: Haunted- "Yeah, do you think it's cute that I'm so fucking stupid? Tell me that it is, 'cause I'm tired of being useless (yeah). I've been up for three days, everything is haunted. Everybody's evil and there's bugs inside the carpet."

ʎ₦ェa: YKWIM?- "Sometimes it seems like I'm in your way. Well, that's how it seems. Hey. You know what I mean? It seems like I care too much. When I'm all alone, oh no. I feel like I care too much. When no one's at home for me. Feel like I'm fallin' out. Well, that's how it seems. I think that I'm fallin' out. You know what I mean?"

ტ₦ɿzʌ: Brain Stew- "I'm having trouble trying to sleep. I'm counting sheep but running out. As time ticks by, still I try. No rest for crosstops in my mind. On my own, here we go. My eyes feel like they're gonna bleed. Dried up and bulging out my skull. My mouth is dry, my face is numb. Fucked up and spun out in my room. On my own, here we go."

Ьlw: I know- "i feel its gross hot breath breathing in my face. after all this time.. no fuck that... i wanna go to disneyland. i dont wanna do more any shit that i hate. i wanna have some real fun. i wanna see the fireworks. i wanna prove what a stupid bitch i am. i wanna get way too drunk in the california sun like i always dreamed of. i wanna see thru to my true self. i wanna play puzzle games on a iphone on a air plane."

m₦zɿ₦w: Gravity Falls- "There's something more To This That we have missed Things around here, Are Suspicious. Who can we put our trust in? What have they all been hiding? Secrets that lie in shadow... How much do they all know? A place so full of Mystery. It's just a puzzle waiting to be solved!" -> Brutus- "The oracle told him to beware the Ides. And I'd be lying if I said I wasn't wishing. For untimely death or demise. Or am I just wishing I could be like you? That the people would see me too as a poet. And not just the muse Oh, it's not true, I don't wish harm upon you. From birth we've been like brothers of different mothers. Within the spirit of the same womb. May the gods strike me down if I forsake you. Frater meus, you're beautifully made. And to you I'm forever grateful -- I don't want what you have, I want to be you"

ェ₦∅ʌw: Never Be Alone- "Your heart is pounding and it can't be stopped. You tell yourself you're okay. It's too bad your doors can't be locked. To keep the monsters away. You check behind the door. There's nothing there no more. You should've stayed in bed. You've heard this noise before. You dart across the floor. Try not to lose your head. Prepare for the horrors. This night will keep repeating over and over. And over, until you make it to the end. They hide 'round the corners. You better peel your eyes and keep looking over. Your shoulder 'cause you'll never be alone again."

X₦hhɿʌ: Beautiful Friendship- "so once again here we go again it's all we have ok, beautiful friendship. burning up in this. tiny little moment of time. we will always try our best to shine bright!!"

oɈbʌ: No Normal- "This creepy kid, this part of me. Wants to make the friends that I couldn't. Fuck it up like other me wouldn't. So clueless and so annoying. I try to know what I'm saying. I'm sorry, please just don't hate me."

xlェɈh: Hole Dwelling- "We cannot survive, we cannot survive. We cannot survive, so we will not even try. We cannot survive so we’re closing our eyes, counting 2, 1, 0… Fall with me, come on and fall with me, into the dark and scary hole inside the bottom of the sea. Fall with me, come on and fall with me, into the place that it’s taking us, wherever that may be. Hole-dwelling, hole-dwelling, hole-dwelling, you’re just like me. Because together we will always be alone."

ტტ: Put On your Sunday Clothes- "Put on your Sunday clothes. There's lots of world out there. Get out the brillantine and dime cigars. We're gonna find adventure in the evening air. Girls in white, in a perfumed night. Where the lights are bright as the stars. Put on your Sunday clothes. We're gonna ride through town. In one of those new horse drawn open cars."

xdʎlェʇ: F Song- "And I know that you won't speak. So I spoke up and then you talked to me. Just move on, you don't need him. So shut your eyes and count to ten. Don't waste time. You'll never look back. Don't go there alone. Just don't waste time. You'll never look back. Don't go there alone."

♩lw: Pop Muzik- "Singing in the subway. Shuffle with a shoe shine. Mix me a Molotov. I'm on the headline. Want to be a gunslinger? Don't be a rock singer. Eeny, meey, miney, moe. Whicha way you want to go? Talk about... pop muzik."

Zlhh: Dumb- "Gonna make you feel famous. (Really, really famous, really, really famous). Even the basic bitches. (Really, really basic, really, really basic). Everybody get. Dumb, dumb, dumb, dumb, dumb, dumb, dumb."

Ʇ₦ェnɿʌom: Cats- "Meow meow meow meow meow, meow meow meow meow, meow meow. Meow meow meow meow meow, meow meow meow meow, meow meow meow. Meow meow meow meow meow, meow meow meow meow, meow meow. Meow meow meow meow meow, meow meow meow meow, meow meow meow meow meow meow meow meow meow meow meow, meow meow. Meow meow meow meow meow, meow meow meow meow, meow meow meow. Meow meow meow meow meow, meow meow meow meow, meow meow. Meow meow meow meow meow, meow meow. Meow, meow, meow"

ʎɿood: Devil Town- "Life's alright in Devil Town. Yeah, right, no one's gonna catch us now. Dad has bought a new car now. We're fine, no one's gonna catch us now (okay). You said something dumb again. She's mad, at least that's what they say. Mum and daddy aren't in love. That's fine, I'll settle for two birthdays."

zlェʇ₦w: Haunt me x3- "You know, often times we don't sit down to think about. The grudges, resentment, and anger that we hold onto. Every day, in our bodies, in our hearts, and in our minds. Whether you're aware of it or not. I am willing to bet you that there is a way that you are disappointed in yourself. That there is a way that--"

aɿz: Pure Imagination- "If you want to view paradise. Simply look at them and view it. Somebody to hold on to, it's. All we really need. Nothing else to it. Come with me and you'll be. In a world of pure imagination. Take a look and you'll see. Into your imagination."

[kairiscorner]

bc i have no life, i made (and will expand):

dialogue prompts list or something

REMINDERS! imma use these on fics if y'all want, though you guys can use these too for your own fics, just make sure to give me credit and tag me, attaching a link to this post is also appreciated if you use this ^^

(btw, i can also repeat some prompts, though please be patient, i might not be able to post so much this month ^^'')

1.) "you're a bad influence on me, y'know that?" (miles 1610)

2.) "yeah, i risked my skin saving you. i don't care if you wouldn't do the same for me, i'm not you."

3.) "mind using your eyes AND brain next time?"

4.) "my heart beats all the time, shouldn't be a big deal, but i can't help but notice how loud the beating is when you're around." (teen!gojo)

5.) "never really understood poetry, but when i read a few lines from this... you were the image that came out of the words." (noir)

6.) "if you really wanted to drive me insane... you'd hold my hand for more than 5 seconds, then you'll see me insane with love." (noir)

7.) "please, for the love of GOD, never shut up."

8.) "my hands are cold... wait, what are you doing, i thought you brought mitt--never mind, this is nice."

9.) "something tells me you aren't happy about it. and something tells me you'll be angrier if i keep asking. it's okay, take your time. just know i'll be right here for you."

10.) "if you can't believe me, then i'll have to show you that i'm serious about you."

11.) "sometimes, you don't have to worry about loving me enough--you do that too much already. what you should worry about... is giving me too much love that you forget who you're supposed to be loving first: you."

12.) "man, after 5 shots of whiskey and a good laugh, i think i've made up my mind--you're gonna be the one i'll marry." "we just met." "and i just fell for you."

13.) "they came to get their shit back without even getting their shit together, how nice."

14.) "i would've thrown a brick in your window if you didn't answer, and y'know, i was going to, but then i remembered you hated getting stuff on your carpet so i left and did it in my mind."

15.) "i want a platypus. and yes, i want you, too."

16.) "your place is filthy." "it's gonna be yours too, one day." "you mean ours."

17.) "why are my eyes gross right now?" "it's... you're crying." "nu-uh." "y'need a tissue?" "yes please"

18.) "you're so stupid, and reckless, and a literal danger to my very way of life--and yet i love you to bits!"

19.) "if i could just go back in time and see you again, maybe then i'd tell myself to love you for a long, long time. even if i never knew it at the time, i regret all the years we've lost together, i regret living my life without you in it."

20.) "now before you ask why i beat the shit out of him in the locker rooms, it was because he was gonna ask you out before i could, okay?" (soccer captain!miguel)

21.) "i am a fully grown adult. i am capable, i am independent, i am strong-willed." "and you lose your shit when you see me come home with a mcdonalds' kiddie meal."

22.) "nobody loves me..." "..." "ahem, i said, NOBODY LOVES ME" "and i'm nobody?" "yay"

23.) "i just wanna bash their head in, but... it's so distracting. their eyes get me lost and i'm, i'm out of it."

24.) "man, they're a lost cause. and yet i keep busting my ass trying to save them. i love being your spouse and curse being your spouse, dammit."

25.) "i wanna kiss... right now... but my spouse'll... hate me." "i am your spouse." "oh damn, then you'll... hate me if i... if i kiss your pretty face, love..."

26.) "go to bed right now." "no." "i guess i'll give your plushie all my kisses." "ok on my way."

27.) "again, would it be me or them? me who's been with you this whole time, me who's took you in when you're so used to being refused, me who's... who's loved you, all this time?"

28.) "where are my--" "keys? here, scatterbrain." "damn, i'm so glad i married you."

29.) "kids, go to your room." "as your co-parent, i say protect me from the dragon about to breathe fire on me."

30.) "i may be his wife, but i'm not his lover."

31.) "i think you have me confused for someone else."

32.) "it's because i care about you that i push myself away, don't you get that?"

33.) "we'll never be okay again, will we...?"

34.) "the noises in my head keep getting louder and louder and louder, but only you... only you help calm them down."

35.) "oh, i get it, fine. i'll fuck off."

36.) "i want that though." "it's a waste of money." "you got it for me anyway."

37.) "how could you say i don't love you when all my life, you're all i come home to and kiss a good morning and good night?"

38.) "what a stupid man i married."

39.) "don't... fucking move... not unless you want me to do it..."

40.) "you went in my ROOM?"

41.) "i accidentally broke the bed."

42.) "i love you." "what?" "ah fuck, i mean, i'll see you."

43.) "GOD, I HATE THEM SO FUCKING MUCH." "is that why you draw you and them kissing together all the time?"

44.) "i can make a mean burned down house and scorched lawn."

45.) "i'll admit it, fine, i can't win your heart. because your heart isn't any prize to be won, you're not an object. you're... you're you. and i LOVE you."

46.) "what, why're you staring? can't handle how hot i am?" "no, it's just that you've got a shit-eating grin on your face i'd love to punch off you."

47.) "i actually hate summer vacation... i won't be able to see you everyday for 3 whole months."

48.) "ooh, you drank from my cup, you know what this means, we had an indirect kiss."

49.) "just tell your crush you like them already and stop being a big baby about this." "okay, fine. i like you." "wait--"

50.) "i know it looks stupid, but... i tried."

51.) "it's funny, because i had you in mind while making it."

52.) "you think infinity is real, or... are we just living every day hoping tomorrow will come, despite all odds?"

53.) "you're so fucking stupid...! stupid, stupid, stupid... why did you... dammit, why?"

54.) "i don't even know who i share my bed with anymore."

55.) "bite me and get what you want, what we both want."

56.) "we'll never have to see each other again after this."

57.) "quit making promises you can't keep."

58.) "tell me to shut up one more time. go, i'm waiting."

59.) "ah, sorry, i... oh, your hand's really soft."

60.) "what are you doing?" "just capturing the moment in my mind when i'm with the most perfect person in the whole multiverse."

61.) "and you know what your problem is? you can't stand seeing me happy, that's your fucking problem."

[separatist-apologist]

The Enemy

I would make you the enemy if I could

Summary: In order to kill his most hated enemy, Azriel has to kidnap Graysen Nolan's fiance.

Should be easy, right?

Chapter 2/5: You've Got That James Dean Daydream Look In Your Eye | Chapter 1 | Read on AO3

For @elainweekofficial- I am not following the prompts (as no prompts can contain me)

Azriel slept like shit. Elain was silent when he’d expected screaming, vicious rage. More of that bottled anger she’d unleashed in the kitchen. The lack of noise kept him up, knee bouncing as he waited for the inevitable. Rope sat on the coffee table, taunting him. She should have smashed something, giving him an excuse to tie her up. Hatred blazing in those big doe eyes as a stream of curses and pleas fell from her lips. 

He couldn’t take it by four in the morning, and though he swore he didn’t care about her—because he didn’t—he still unlocked her bedroom door to check on her.

Just to make sure she was alive, he told himself. Rhysand would kill him if she injured herself, after all. It had begun to occur to him that maybe she’d found a way to hurt herself that didn’t make noise. Had he cleaned everything out of the cabinet? 

He found her curled up on the bathroom floor, cheek pressed to the cool, dark tile. No blanket, no pillow, just her body curved in on itself, arms over her face to block out the light. He didn’t know how long he stood there staring at her, trying so hard not to think about his childhood—of all the times he’d slept in his bedroom closet, foregoing a blanket because he didn’t think he deserved it, letting himself get used to the rough shag carpet against his skin.

Azriel had kidnapped enough people to understand whatever was happening with Elain was unusual. Some stupid, sentimental part of him wanted to pick her up and dump her in the bed. And another angrier, vicious part of him wanted to throw her over his shoulder and tie her up in the basement for feeling anything for her at all. 

Given he’d never been a good sleeper to begin with, Azriel returned to the kitchen for coffee before fishing out Elain’s phone. He needed her to send a text letting Graysen know she was safe and unharmed.

At least, for now. 

Also, Azriel was mildly curious about the woman Graysen Nolan wanted to spend the rest of his life with. Azriel believed Elain had to be just as bad as her fiance, if not worse. The media called them a power couple, and Azriel knew from experience no one obtained power by being nice. He wanted to see what Elain and Graysen talked about, certain he’d have his proof and could free himself from feeling bad for her. It was her big fucking eyes, he thought with a grumble. It made her seem sweet—innocent. 

He knew better.

Turning on her screen revealed no passcode, which he found odd. No thumbprint, nothing to protect whatever she might try to hide. Her background picture was her and Graysen, cheek to cheek grinning into the camera. He rolled his eyes as his stomach clenched. He hated Graysen, and Elain by association. 

She had a deluge of texts, nearly all from her fiance. Here it was, he thought. Proof that she and Graysen were evenly matched, that the woman who’d tried to sit with him with an easy smile was merely trying to manipulate him. 

Where are you? 

Answer your phone, Elain.

Elain, I swear to God if you don’t open your door. 

Where the fuck are you? 

Answer your goddamn phone Elain or I swear there will be hell to pay. 

On and on, text after text threatening her and pleading in equal measure. Azriel frowned, scrolling up to their last conversation. 

You look like a slut. 

Azriel blinked, thinking of every picture he’d ever seen of Elain. Clean lines, high necks, and skirts well past her knees. Slutty was hardly the word that came to mind.

Sorry. Would you like me to change?

Azriel suddenly felt gross, reading her messages. He closed out her phone and tossed it to the coffee table while pulling his feet closer to his body. If he shut his eyes, he could practically see a similar exchange between his parents during a contentious drop-off. 

“You still look like a whore,” his father had said, having caught his mother in a tank top in the hottest of summer months. 

“I’m sorry. I’ll change,” she’d said, even though they hadn’t been together in years. Azriel had been twelve years old and humiliated on his mothers behalf. She hadn’t owed him that and yet his father had broken her down so thoroughly, had scarred her so deeply that it was easier to yield than to stand up for herself. 

He let his coffee grow cold at the thought that he’d accidentally rescued Elain Archeron. Azriel was no hero, was not the good guy. He didn’t know what to make of her relationship, of which she was still firmly in. She still wore that ostentatious diamond around her finger. 

He didn’t have to wait long for Elain to fly out of the bedroom. She’d yanked at the handle, clearly expecting to be locked, only to tumble into the hallway.

He couldn’t help his laugh, twisting around the back of the couch to watch her scramble to her feet. 

“Ass,” she hissed, rubbing at her knees as she stood. 

He turned, waiting for her to make her way toward him. Elain’s eyes snagged on his coffee, body turning toward the kitchen. He didn’t offer her any, and Elain didn’t ask as she made herself at home. The clinking of cups followed by the sound of the refrigerator opening—and slamming shut when she realized there was no cream—filled the silence. 

“We need rules,” Azriel said when she finished. Elain had found sugar, and when he turned he found her liberally spooning it into her chipped mug. She didn’t bother to look at him, nor did she acknowledge him in any way. 

Obnoxious. 

“Let's start with—”

“I don’t think you get to order me around,” Elain interrupted with faux sweetness. “I’m here, aren’t I? Now you want to control everything else?”

“I’d like to avoid another tantrum,” Azriel snapped, rising from the couch. He leveled a stare that often made grown men’s knees quake with fear. Elain brought her mug to her lips and met it.

There was no visible terror, and Azriel couldn’t help but wonder if that was because Elain was used to living with a violent, capricious man.

He could have chosen to be better than Graysen—if he wanted.

But he didn’t. 

“Oh, well, please accept my sincerest apologies for not being your good, compliant little captive,” she said with eyes that made Azriel feel two feet tall. What the fuck was wrong with him?

“Forgiven,” he said dismissively as he stalked into the kitchen. Elain shrank a little, pressing her back to the counter at his approach. “I still have to live with you.”

Her smile widened. “Oh, that's awful.”

Azriel slid her phone over the island counter, not bothering to conceal he’d gone through her messages. Elain’s face paled when she saw Graysen’s name staring back at her. 

“Tell him you’re safe,” Azriel murmured, watching how her hands trembled as she reached for the phone. “Tell him I haven’t hurt you—yet.”

Her eyes snapped to his face, her bravado gone. “Are you going to hurt me?”

“Are you going to do what I say?” he countered. 

Elain typed out a quick message but didn’t send so he could see. Her message was unusual—almost clinical and so at odds with what other people typically typed.

I’m not coming home, Gray. I’m safe. 

Azriel sent it. Rhys would have let Graysen know they were holding Elain by then. Elain sighed into her mug of coffee, eyes glazed for a moment. Still holding her phone when it went off, Azriel was given the opportunity to read the text as it came in.

If anyone touches you, I’ll kill them. 

Azriel shouldn’t have felt surprise, and yet he was curious as he showed Elain. She expressed no emotion at all, hands wrapped around her mug as she blew absently at steam.

“You know,” he began, wondering why he was hedging around the truth. “Most people ask if you’re okay first.”

“Why would he care about that?” she demanded bitterly. 

“Why wouldn’t he?” Azriel replied, more curious than anything. If she was his girl…if someone had his girl, Azriel would want to know they were safe. 

Right before he ripped apart the world to get her back. Elain didn’t need to know that. 

“You went through my phone,” she reminded him, unaware that he’d only looked through her messages with Graysen. He didn’t care about anything else. Still, he kept his mouth shut as Elain continued. “He’s sleeping with other people—at least one, that I know about. I thought—”

She swallowed whatever she thought, eyes snapping to his face as she realized who she was talking to. 

“Am I supposed to feel bad for you?” Azriel asked, crossing his arms over his chest. 

Elain slammed her coffee mug onto the counter, unaware of how much he enjoyed her show of temper. 

“How am I allowed to spend my time?” she asked instead. Azriel lowered his gaze.

“In the house, however you like. I don’t care.”

He could feel her eyes on his face—he didn’t think he’d like what he’d find if he looked up. His own phone was buzzing with a text from Cassian.

Lead on Hybern. Tie up Archeron and join me.

Azriel knew he should. There was no reason to leave her standing in the kitchen, to inform her he had cameras everywhere—an objective lie—and he’d hurt her viciously if she tried to leave. And yet Azriel found himself doing just that as he reached for his leather jacket and boots. 

He couldn’t explain why he thought it. But as he slammed the passenger door, Azriel had the strangest sense that Elain wasn’t going anywhere.

That she was exactly where she wanted to be.

ELAIN: 

Azriel left with a snap of the door, locking it behind him. He’d assured her he would hurt her—holding a lethal looking knife as he said it—if she tried to leave. It was tempting to call his bluff, if only to see if she could manage. And once he was gone, Elain unlocked the front door easily and stepped onto the little porch to survey her surroundings.

He’d taken her up into the mountains. Getting down would require trekking the steep, icy roads and hope she wasn’t accidentally struck by a car in the process. She didn’t have snow shoes, either. Only heels and a pair of dressy flats that would be filled with snow the minute she tried.

Elain slammed the door shut, turning in a circle around the cabin. She could destroy it and face his ire—and risk him tying her up or worse. 

She had no doubt that Azriel couldn’t kill her, if he wanted. She wasn’t even convinced he didn’t want to, which depressed and angered her in equal measure. He was merely an extension of whoever Graysen had pissed off. In her fury the night before, Elain had torn apart that bedroom wishing it was Graysen’s face. Wishing he knew how angry she was—how angry she’d been for so, so long.

And as she imagined every hateful thing she’d say to him, and prepared responses for all his rebuttals, Elain had also wondered who he might have pissed off. It could have been anyone. It was that thought that had settled her into a sobbing sleep. Graysen’s cruelty extended well beyond just her and whatever he’d done, Elain suspected it wasn’t deserved. 

And maybe she was the perfect person to pay for his many misdeeds. Elain thought that, too—that she’d sat idly by, well aware of Graysen’s nature. She’d told herself she suffered, too, but Elain could leave. She could. Even if it meant fleeing another city, abandoning her life, her friends, her family…

Elain went to the kitchen, palms braced against the granite countertops. She couldn’t leave and she knew it. This was the closest she’d ever get before she was dragged back by a scowling Azriel, relieved to have washed his hands of her. Elain could only imagine the fall out—if Graysen saw Azriel’s face, he’d think…

He’d punish her for Azriel’s proximity, captor or not. 

Perhaps she could convince Azriel to take her somewhere else when this was all over. Somewhere warm, somewhere sunny and with ocean front access. She wouldn’t have the Archeron money anymore but Elain had a bachelor's degree—she was smart. She could get a job, make her own way like so many other people did. Maybe Azriel could fake her death, even—

She was losing it. 

There was no way he’d do any of those things, and no way Elain was brave enough to ask. It was all just wishful thinking. Her father wanted to see her marry Graysen and Graysen needed her to marry him. Practically, his career was dead if she walked away and her father withdrew his support. 

She suspected Graysen liked some part of her, outside of how useful she was to him. He could be so kind when he wanted to be. Elain often lived for those precious moments, working overtime to bring them back. That was the Gray she loved—the Gray she wanted to marry.

Elain twisted the engagement ring on her finger, slamming it to the counter. That wasn’t enough. She stared at the drain, but someone might fish it out. Someone might find it. 

Marching back to the front door, Elain flung it into the cold, gray gloom. She didn’t let herself track it, didn’t dare let herself see where it had fallen. Twenty thousand dollars, gone. Just like that. Someone else would find it, might sell it for a fraction of what it was worth, but Elain would never wear the hideous, ostentatious ring ever again. If she’d known where it was, guilt would have driven her to pick it up. 

She slammed the door behind her, retreating back to the warmth of the small cabin. If she looked, Elain bet she could have found a gun. Maybe a dagger. Azriel hadn’t hidden anything before he’d left and he seemed like the type who had multiple weapons within grabbing distance. She imagined him returning to find a gun pressed in his face—held by her.

And how even in her fantasy, she knew she couldn’t pull the trigger. That he’d disarm her and then make good on his threat to chain her to the radiator. Naked, as he’d said, though he’d spat it like the very thought of her unclothed disgusted him. So maybe she’d have her clothes, but she wouldn’t have her dignity, and Elain needed to maintain some pride.

She returned to the kitchen, intending to find a snack and watch shameless television until he came back. Upon opening the fridge, she found actual food—strawberries in a container and eggs and butter…and in the pantry, flour and sugar—all the things she needed for strawberry muffins. Elain closed her eyes and thought of the last time she’d made them.

How Graysen had let her, up until they were finished, and then had swept them all into the trash. She didn’t need the carbs, and neither did he. Elain’s eyes burned at the memory, of her hopes dashed as Graysen walked away, unbothered with yet another callous act. He wasn’t there, though.

No one was.

Not even Azriel, who had forbidden her from using a knife despite having a kitchen stocked with them. No one to yell at her or tell her carbs were bad for her or to put down the knife. Elain dug out a cutting board and a comically sharp knife as she assembled her ingredients.

She found, improbably, an Alexa. 

Alexa, call 911, she thought to herself as she plugged it in. She could have laughed at how easy she made it to kidnap her. And as Elain set the oven, she called over her shoulder the only thing she wanted in that moment.

“Alexa. Play Taylor Swift.”

AZRIEL:

FuckfuckFUCK.

Azriel slammed his scraped hand against his steering wheel. He’d been shot—twice—and was no closer to Hybern than he’d been when he left. And though those bullet wounds were shallow, dug out by a grim, bloodied Cassian with his own injuries. Azriel exhaled through the pain, gritting his teeth. 

The jangling of his phone cut through the stereo, silencing what Rhys had once called horrifically emo, even for you. Azriel answered, willing himself to keep the pain from his voice.

“Yes?”

“How are things going?” Rhys asked mildly. Azriel kept his eyes on the winding, icy road in front of him. It might be spring in Velaris, but up in the Illyrian mountains it was still the dead of winter. 

“Fine,” he lied. He needed a stiff drink and a sedative if he could find one. Barring that, he needed absolute silence for the rest of the night, which he doubted Elain would give him. 

“No problems with Elain?”

Azriel paused. “Nothing I can’t handle.”

“Good, good. Graysen is in a rage, but I expected that. He raided one of the warehouses at the pier.”

“Oh? Find anything interesting?”

“Just empty crates,” Rhys chuckled. “I’ll give it a few days before I reach out to her father and organize a ransom.”

Fine. Two weeks, just as Rhys had promised. Azriel merely grunted his response.

“Oh, Az?” Rhys continued in that cool voice. Azriel’s heart quickened at the sound. How often had he stood beside Rhys, listening to captives lie to Rhys’s face? And how often had he heard that tone, heard that same question?

“Yes?”

“If you leave her to hunt Hybern again, there will be hell to pay. This takes priority over your fucking grudge. Do you understand me?”

Azriel swallowed. “Yes. Of course.”

Rhys paused for a moment, and Azriel wondered if his brother was mad at the deception or at being left out. Azriel didn’t dare ask—not today. Another day, when Rhys had forgotten, when he wasn’t so irritated.

Those were the risks of being king. He had responsibilities, couldn’t run out on the drop of a dime like Azriel and Cassian still could. From the loud breath Rhys blew out on the other end, Azriel suspected it was the latter. 

“First aid is in the master bedroom in the closet. Maybe Elain knows how to sew.”

“Rhys–” Fuck him for not taking his own advice, but he had to know. “How did you know we were out?”

“Outside of the blood trail you left?” Rhys replied on the other end, his voice laced with amusement. “The alexa in the cabin has been playing Taylor Swift for an hour. Figured that wasn’t you.”

Fucking Elain. 

Azriel pulled in the drive, embarrassed and angry and radiating pain. He should have tied her up. Should have locked her in a closet until she sobbed and acted normal.

Acted scared. 

Azriel ended his call and cut the engine, dreading the moment when he’d have to stand. He managed, grunting loud against the howling wind. He was half on fire, cursing himself for rushing after Hybern without support, in a half-cocked scheme that was going to leave him useless and housebound for days. 

Azriel pushed open the front door, and just like Rhys said, Elain was listening to Taylor Swift. Blaring it, so loud it made the headache forming behind his eyes bounce. She hadn’t spotted him from the foyer, dripping blood onto the dark wood. He meant to bark something at her—shut that off, go to your room, what the fuck are you doing—

She was in an ivory sun dress, so out of place in the cold given the little straps that tied over her tanned shoulders and the lacy hem cut against a slim thigh. Half her hair was pulled from her head and tied with a pretty, blush colored bow while the rest cascaded gold down her back. She’d dug out one of Rhys’s aprons—the one that read ask about my sausage—and had a pile of muffins towering on the counter.

She turned, singing into a wooden spoon she’d just washed. James Dean daydream indeed, he thought when her spoon clattered to the floor.

“Alexa, off,” she managed, eyes as round as saucers. He must look pissed, for the color to have drained so quickly from her face. Azriel stared right back, waiting for something, though he didn’t know what. And while he looked, he realized that beneath the make-up she’d been wearing that washed her out, made her seem chiseled into perfection, that Elain Archeron was beautiful.

Stunning.

Ethereal.

He’d never seen anyone that pretty in his life. Azriel’s heart stumbled, his throat closing in the wake of those unadorned, wide, fawn-brown eyes. Freckles were splattered just over the bridge of her nose, likely from the time she spent beneath the sun. Pink lips seemed to curve upward, as though cut into a perpetual smile. He resisted the urge to look lower, to rake his eyes over her.

He hated himself for it.

She would be Graysen’s wife. She was marked, had chosen his greatest enemy and Azriel was standing before her, bleeding and injured and somehow still entranced by how beautiful she was. 

“What,” he whispered as his eyes swept around the room, “the fuck are you doing?” He wanted to punish her.

That was a lie. He wanted to punish himself for the constant weakness. For being caught off guard, for being shot, for thinking Nolan’s soon-to-be-wife was beautiful. Elain’s bottom lip trembled which only made him hate himself more. Why wasn’t she scared? 

“Baking,” she whispered. Azriel forced himself not to betray how badly his body ached. 

“Who said you could do that?” he asked, well aware he’d told her he didn’t care what she did. 

Elain’s eyes sparkled with unshed tears. He could see her dashed hopes—that he’d come back and she’d give him a muffin and maybe he’d thank her. He had the urge to shove them all onto the floor, to crush them beneath his feet until she never looked at him like that again.

Elain didn’t respond. It didn’t matter what she said. Azriel had already made up his mind. He strode toward her and Elain shrieked, though she didn’t move quick enough. With a grunt of pain, Azriel hauled her over his shoulder. This—this was good. This was what he needed. Elain was sobbing now, fists beating into his ruined back. Each new pound reverberated against his bones, sharp and hot and cruel. It was what he needed.

He was a monster and she was a princess. They had their roles and she needed to understand hers. Azriel forced open the basement door, taking the wooden steps quickly despite how badly his lungs burned. Elain was sobbing, and when he dropped her to the concrete floor, she threw her hands up over her face like she expected him to hit her.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” she chanted, the words a mantra he could see she’d said before. 

She scooted toward a wall while Azriel stood where he was, trying to ignore how spotty his vision was. Elain peeked up through wet lashes, her perfect face splotchy and swollen. Azriel opened his mouth to scream at her—though the words didn’t come.

Fear coated her gaze for the first time and for a miserable second, Azriel knew what his father must have felt like. The rage and the power and the utter insecurity, all battling for dominance. He went to her, knees curled to her chin. Elain winced when he crouched in front of her, betraying that, like his mother, she was too used to making herself small.

To weathering violence by someone much stronger. 

What could he even say? “I—” 

Elain looked back at him, her eyes drifting to his hands. It was the second time he’d caught her staring. He could still remember the last woman who’d looked at his scarred hands. How she’d flinched away every time he’d reached for her. Elain, still trembling, brought her eyes back to his face.

“You’re bleeding,” she whispered and too late, Azriel realized there was wet blood smeared along his fingers. She hadn’t been staring at the scarring at all. 

“I was shot,” he told her, ignoring how wild his heart was. 

Elain blinked away a few more tears, wiping her cheek on her shoulder. He just watched, trying to make sense of her. “Do you need help cleaning them?”

It was on the tip of his tongue to tell her he didn’t need help from anyone, least of all her. But the memory of how she’d tried to protect herself from blows not a minute before flashed behind his eyes. He couldn’t stomach anymore cruelty. Not to her, anyway. 

“Can—” he swallowed again. “Can you sew?”

She nodded quickly. Azriel rose to his feet, unable to hide a groan of pain. Elain was still at his feet, still red-eyed and nervous. He reached between them, offering her his hand. Elain hesitated only for a moment, looking up at him warily. Like she expected him to explode again, to lose his temper and drag her back to the radiator. 

Still, she accepted and Azriel pulled her up despite the shooting, white hot pain that lanced through him. Her skin was smooth and warm beneath his own, her nails coated in a fine layer of flour and now a smear of his own blood he couldn’t look away from.

She tried to pull her hand away but Azriel closed his fingers around her delicate wrist and yanked her just a little closer.

“Does he hit you, Elain?” he asked, his voice soft enough he could almost pretend he’d said nothing at all. 

She opened her mouth and Azriel silenced her with a soft growl. “No lies.”

“Yes.”

Azriel’s nostrils flared and the pain from his wounds returned. “Rhys is wrong. I should kill him.”

“Rhys?” she asked and fuck—had he let that slip.

“Up,” he said instead, nodding toward the stairs. It was only then that he remembered he was still gripping her hand. Azriel let her go—a mistake. He swayed and Elain caught him before he fell face first onto the same concrete he’d dropped her on. Maybe a few cracked teeth were what he deserved, then.

“Come on,” she murmured, letting him brace some of his weight against her. She was careful with where she put her hand, and patient though he didn’t deserve it. One step after another, encouraging him gently before they reached the landing.

“Couch,” he grunted, catching a whiff of sugar in the air. Azriel wheezed when she dropped him to the leather, hands on her hips. He’d stained her ivory dress splotchy red which satisfied him. He told her where the kit was and then worked off his leather jacket and then his shirt. He couldn’t see the wound in his shoulder, but the one against his ribs seemed shallow enough. 

Elain returned, eyes sliding down his tattooed body for only a moment. “Are those it?” she asked, dropping to her knees as he laid stomach first against the cushions.

“Seen worse?” he tried to joke.There was no amusement on her face, only a grim sort of determination. 

“Are there just the two?” she clarified softly.

“Yes, just the two,” he agreed. Elain nodded, and then got to work. Azriel jerked when the cold antiseptic stung against his inflamed skin, earning a whispered, I’m sorry from Elain.

Why? You didn’t do anything wrong.

He hadn’t meant to say it outloud, but she’d paused to look at him, her eyes wide and startled. They didn’t speak again. Not after she sterilized that needle and began pulling his skin back together. It took every ounce of Azriel's will not to make a sound. Even when his spine arched and his muscles locked, Azriel remained silent. 

He waited until she’d finished, sitting cross-legged on the floor and repacking the red tin box, that he asked, “What did you make?”

She didn’t look up at him, just as she didn’t look at her blood stained fingers. “Strawberry muffins.”

He exhaled. “Can I have one?”

“Yeah.”

She rose to her feet and Azriel tried to, too. Gaping, Elain asked, “What are you doing?”

“Getting…a muffin?” he responded. She scowled.

“I’ll get it. Lay down.”

He fell back dramatically, grunting in pain—and yet relieved when she returned a moment later with a misshapen muffin wrapped in pink paper. Where had she found it? “Is this my punishment?” he asked as she sat carefully on the far end of the sofa. He could have stretched his legs and touched her, could have scooted an inch and dragged her up to him by his calves. It was a tempting thought, even if he had no idea where it came from or what he would even do if he had her. 

“Punishment?”

He held up the droopy muffin. It was as close to an apology as he’d ever get. “Is this my punishment for…?”

“The broken ones taste the best,” she murmured, eyes flicking toward the dark television. “Everyone knows that.”

“I didn’t,” he replied, not daring to read into her words. Elain yanked the blanket from the night before down—the one he’d tried to sleep under while she’d cried—and spread it over her lap and his legs.

“What are we watching?” she asked, not looking at him. Azriel groaned softly as he fished out the remote. 

“Do you speak any spanish?” he asked, turning on his mother's favorite soap opera. 

“Enough,” she replied.

A thrill ran through him, tempered almost immediately. He didn’t dare smile, turning his gaze to the actors on the screen.

“If you get lost, I’ll translate.”

[asskickedbygirl]

Jealous? [Brandon DiCamillo x F!Reader]

Desc: You’re Bam’s best friend but are popularly hated on gossip websites. Dico’s jealous of your friendship. Smut ensues

A/n: i’m back thank god. will be writing more now that i have time!!

Warnings: smut (18+), p in v, oral f!receiving, alcohol, insecurities, angst

3.3k words

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Ever since you and the crew had gained fame from the CKY videos, you and Bam had grown inseparable. Of course he became the pretty boy toy for MTV and all the magazines while you were brushed off as his girl best friend but you didn’t care, he was your best friend after all. You didn’t like to admit it but since your rise in popularity, the other guys may have been kind of side tracked in your life compared to Bam. Sure you created everything together but it was usually just the two of you and the other guys rather than the crew as a whole when you were at events and things. Dico had been your best friend since middle school but you found yourself drifting apart every day. It wasn’t even that great being Bam’s best friend from a celebrity standpoint. Sometimes articles and gossip sites would try expose the two of you for secretly dating which you found funny until you’d open the forums of comments and read them until your eyes were sore. ‘He’s way out of her league.’ ‘There’s no way he’s fucking that fugly bitch.’ ‘He could do so much better.’ were just some of the ones circulating. You knew it was self destructive and most of it was just bullshit from horrible people but you couldn’t help but let it consume you whole. Sometimes you’d opt out of walking the red carpet with Bam to avoid the hatred being spewed but it was inescapable if you still wanted to be around him. The guys knew about all the comments, hell it was practically unavoidable. They never brought them up to make you feel bad, instead opting to say they’ll break the commenters kneecaps live on radio bam. Sure it helped but it didn’t stop the tears on your pillow each night.

After a three day bender with Bam and Novak, you finally returned to your humble abode of Castle Bam. Dico was staying there for a while along with the other guys and you went wandering to his room to show him something. The copious amounts of alcohol had worn off by then but your exhaustion was making you a little delirious, hence why you found yourself knocking on his door. You let yourself in after a few seconds of silence, figuring you couldn’t walk in on anything too bad at 7 in the morning or whatever time it was. Alas, he was fast asleep in his bed but not for long. You triumphantly walked over to his window and pulled the curtains open dramatically. “Good morning!” You chimed causing Dico to groan loudly, shoving his head into his pillow. You skipped over to where he slept and pulled the covers back, clambering into the bed in your gross clothes from partying. “You smell terrible” Dico mumbled against his sheets, turning his head to face you. “Thank you very much, I haven’t showered in four days!” Dico rubbed his eyes with his hands and flipped his body to lie upright, his shirtless torso exposed. “What are you doing here?” He grumbled, still in a daze. You smiled, a manic, delirious smile. “I have something to show you.” Dico narrowed his eyes, a little concerned.

You flipped to your side so your back was facing him to show off the fresh heartagram tattoo on your lower back just above the waistline of your jeans. A ‘tramp stamp’ if you will. “Oh my god.” He groaned, hiding his head in his hands. “What? It’s matching with Bam’s now.” Dico just shook his head, “Well of course it is.” He shot sharply. You returned to your previous position, “What’s that supposed to mean?” You acted like you had no idea what on earth he was talking about. “It’s always you and Bam now.” You smiled, a little unsure if he was being serious or not. “Are you jealous DiCamillo?” You pushed his hair off his forehead playfully but he brushed you off. “I’m not jealous, it’s just, well.” You raised your brows, waiting for him to get to the point. “We used to be best friends.” You laughed now, a hearty laugh. “Well I can have two best friends Dico!” Brandon just shook his head. “No you can’t. Don’t you know what ‘best’ means.” You weren’t laughing anymore, this felt weirdly serious. “What are you twelve? What are you talking about?!” Dico shrugged, leaning over to get his pack of smokes from the dresser and lighting one up. You sat up on your knees. “Look I’m sorry we drifted apart a little, I am.” Bran didn’t respond, inhaling his cigarette and passing it to you like a joint. “I’ve missed you, I really have and I feel bad about it. Can we be best friends again? I promise I can have two.” Brandon looked at you and smiled flatly before rolling his eyes and nodding. You grinned happily and jumped to kiss him on the forehead adoringly. After finishing the cigarette you changed into Dico’s clothes to sleep next to him for the remainder of the morning. No spooning or anything but it was nice. You knew it was time to stop sidetracking the guys, and who better to break that than with Dico himself.

The next few weeks passed by quick, you tried your best to talk and hang out with Brandon as much as you did with Bam but that was hard when he wasn’t as in the spotlight and into partying as you were. After another weekend of drinking you returned to the castle, cheery as ever, hugging Brandon tightly from behind once you entered his room as he played his video games. “Heyyyy nerd.” Dico wasn’t enjoying your sudden affection and taunting, instead switching his game off and hurrying to head to bed as it was already pretty late. “What’s wrong with you?” You jeered, crossing your arms. “Nothing.” He mumbled, taking his shirt off to sleep. “No there is something wrong with you. You’re being so distant even after the whole best friend thing.” Brandon caught your gaze, his eyes cold and stern. “Well nothing much really changed, did it?” He spat and you scoffed, “Is that what this is about? ‘Best friends’ like we’re in middle school?!” Dico scratched the back of his head, and turned so his back was facing you. “You know he’s not gonna fuck you the more you hang out with him right?” There was silence. Your heart sunk to the bottom of your stomach upon hearing those hateful words.

“What the fuck did you just say to me?” You sobered up real quick, the swaying in your head remained the same but you were stern. Fucking angry. It seemed like he had only just realised the weight of the words he spat at you, turning to face you, his gaze softening, concern filling them. “I- I didn’t mean that.” You got up from the spot where you were sat on the floor and walked up to him, not caring that he was shirtless. “No, please enlighten me. What the fuck did you mean by that?” You had never been so livid in your life, but now your emotions were taking over as you felt hot tears begin to rise. “I was just kidding.” Your cheeks flushed a hot red as salty tears began to spill down them, causing Brandon to look even more devastated. “That’s not fucking funny.” Your voice cracked as you spoke, tough guy act completely broken down. Bran lifted his hands up to try wipe off the tears that fell, “I’m sorry, I’m- fuck I’m just-“ You swatted his hands away and went to storm out but Dico grabbed you by your shoulders to stop you. “No don’t go. I’m really fucking sorry, I didn’t mean it I was just trying to hurt you, it was fucking stupid.” You turned your gaze back up to him, your eyebrows furrowed. “You think I don’t know Bam would never fuck me? I don’t want him to but god I’m reminded of the fact he wouldn’t every fucking day. Do you know how exhausting that is?” Dico shook his head silently. “You of all people. Always first to my defence but it was never true, was it? You think the same as everyone else.” Your words were sharper than knives, cutting into Brandon’s flesh. “No, no. It is true, I don’t know why I brought it up I’m just jealous that’s all.”

You narrowed your brows. “Jealous?” Brandon nodded frantically. “All that time you’ve been spending with Bam I just- I miss you. And I think you’re beautiful. Really fucking beautiful. All those assholes are just jealous they’re not fucking Bam.” You hated that your snickered a little at his comment. “I’m not fucking Bam you know.” Brandon laughed, “Yeah but they all think you are. Plus they’re probably jealous Bam gets to fuck you.” Your face faltered. Sure he was just trying to cheer you up but there was no point lying. You pushed his hands off your shoulders and went to leave but Brandon noticed your change in demeanour, and stopped you from going once more by slamming his back on the door. “I know what you’re thinking, and I’m not lying. Any guy would be lucky to fuck you Y/n. I’m serious.” Brandon lifted his hands up once more to brush off the spare tears on your blotchy face with the pads of his thumb and this time you let him. He held onto your face when he was finished. “I’m jealous because I want to be the one everyone thinks you’re fucking.” Your eyes widened. “Don’t fuck with me Dico.” He shook his head. “I’m dead serious. I’ve liked you for god knows how long.” You shook your head in disbelief, he nodded now and leaned in to press his lips against yours.

It was a pretty big shock, who knew that’s where this conversation was going. You were fairly conscious at your wet cheeks and the snot that was about to fall down your nose as Dico continued to kiss you softly while you moved your lips with his. Brandon pulled away first, still holding your face. “You taste like salt and cigarettes.” You laughed then, reaching your hand up to wipe the moistness off of yourself. “I promise it’ll be better next time.” Brandon raised his eyebrows quizzically. “Next time?” You rolled your eyes and pulled him in by his face to kiss him again, this time with more passion. You made out for minutes, Brandon’s hands finding your waist as he slipped his fingers under your top to touch the skin beneath, playing with the hem all the while. He pulled away to ask if he could take it off, and you agreed, lifting your arms to allow him. He looked right at your tits when the tank top was off, holding onto your waist once more and sighing as he leaned in to kiss you. While making out, Brandon’s hands snaked down to hold your ass and began lifting you off your feet, signalling for you to wrap your legs around his waist. When you did so, Brandon carried you over to his bed and lay you down on top of it, leaning above you while still connecting lips.

Brandon pulled away to move down and begin unbuttoning your pants. “Is this okay?” He asked and you smiled, “More than okay.” Dico flashed you a smiled as he pulled your pants off, discarding them on the floor. What surprised you then, was that he didn’t immediately take his own pants off, desperate to be inside you. Instead he began kissing the inside of your thighs and playing with the band of your panties. You sat up on your elbows, “What are you doing?” Dico licked your inner thigh then, sending shivers to your core. “Can I eat you out?” Your heart swelled enormously and you almost laughed at the absurdity of the situation. “I didn’t take you for an eat out on the first date kinda guy Brandon.” Dico shook his head, “I’m not. But I feel like a dick and I wanna make it up to you.” You raised your brows. “And I also just want to eat you out.” You laughed and nodded, “Be my guest.” He smiled then and hooked his fingers into the band of your panties, pulling them down and throwing them somewhere on the floor of his room. You didn’t expect Bran to almost gasp as he stared at your core, it made you feel sort of self conscious until he began running his finger through your folds, admiring the slick that coated them. You whimpered at the contact making him look up. “Already so wet, I’ve barely touched you.” His teasing made you even more wet than before as your chest rose and fell quickly. “If all it took to get in your pants was to be an asshole I would’ve done it a lot sooner.” You shoved his head from between your legs and he laughed but stopped you from responding as soon as his tongue made contact with you. You whined softly, feeling him lick from your clit to your core. You threaded your fingers into his hair and pushed him forward. It caught you by surprise when Dico slipped his fingers into you abruptly, beginning to move them in and out as he sucked on your clit. “Fuck you’re good at this.” You muttered, your breathing scattered. After a few moments of fingering and sucking, Bran switched positions. This time he had his index and his middle finger rubbing your clit rapidly as he tongue fucked you. You moaned loudly at this change of pace, your fingers tightening their grip around his hair. It didn’t take long for Dico to bring you to the edge. “I’m- fuck I’m close Bran.” This only encouraged him, quickening his pace until you finished on his tongue with an almost pornographic moan. You forgot to consider the fact everyone was home at that moment but hoped they just figured you’d snuck a guy home from the bar or were just having a real nice time by yourself. The teasing you and Dico would get would be relentless if they found out you fucked, endless ammo. But you didn’t even care about that in the moment, too hung up on Brandon lapping up the rest of your cum.

You pulled him up and kissed him gently, tasting yourself off of him. You pulled away and smiled, blissed out and horny. “Where the fuck did you learn that?!” Dico shrugged, “I watch a lot of porn.” You pushed his hair off his forehead as you laughed and pecked him once more before reaching down to unbuckle his pants. He sat up on his knees and began yanking them down, discarding them on the same floor your clothes were. He took his boxers off with them, you sat up on your elbows to take a look. Brandon laughed when he caught this, your eyes wide, lip between your teeth. “Like what you see?” He kissed you before you could respond, hands snaking around your back to undo your bra. You let him do so, throwing it away. Dico bit his lip and began handling your tits roughly with his hands, the contact making you whine. As he did this you could feel his length brushing against your core, making you more desperate than ever. He laughed when he caught your hips moving and thrusting in his direction. “Alright, I’ll fuck you now don’t worry.” His lip was between his teeth once again when he held out his hand for you to spit on. He pumped himself a couple of times before rubbing it between your folds and pushing into you slowly. The breaching caused you to tense up, the pain ringing through you. But he went slow, and gentle. Eventually the slow thrusts became fuelled with pleasure as you shut your eyes in ecstasy. "Does that feel good?" He whispered, his eyes boring into your face. You nodded. “Tell me how good it feels.” His thrusts were still painstakingly slow but god did it feel amazing. “Feels so fucking good Bran.” Dico smiled, “There ya go.”

Your eyes were barely open as you clung onto his back, pressing his chest against your own, whimpering into his ear. The pace quickened the louder you moaned until Dico switched his position. He got up on his knees, still partly inside you and hoisted one of your legs up so it was around his waist before climbing on top of you again. “Be loud for me. Yeah?” You nodded frantically before Bran slammed into you roughly, fucking you nice and hard now. You fulfilled his wishes as you moaned loudly, out of control. Dico’s grunts and groans as he ploughed were enough to get you to the edge for the second time that night. “I’m close. Fuck!” Brandon brushed your hair away from your face. “Just hold on and wait for me babe. Okay?” You nodded, sighing as you tried to hold it. The way he said ‘babe’ felt so natural. Not before long, Dico’s thrusts became sloppy and out of time to the steady pace he had set. His groans became more aggressive before he spat out, “I’m gonna cum.” With only a few more thrusts, Dico spilled into you and quickly moved his fingers to rub your clit until you finished around his cock.

You stayed like that for a while. “You’re on the pill right?” You laughed, “A little late for that isn’t it?” Brandon’s eyes widened but you lightly slapped his face, “Yes I’m on the pill. Relax!” Dico sighed and smiled before pulling out of you, examining the way his cum poured out. He grinned smugly as he began pushing it back inside of you with his fingers, but you grabbed his wrist, you were already super sensitive. He understood and got up from the bed, putting his boxers on so he could head down the hall to the bathroom and fetch you a towel. You lay on his bed and watched him walk to the door, slightly dazed after what had just happened. When he opened the door to let himself out he simply went “Shit.” Bam, Novak and Raab were stood outside, child-like awe painted on their faces. Bam’s eyes lit up even more when he saw you lying there, naked on Dico’s bed, vagina no doubt on display. You scrambled quickly to get under the covers. “Y/N?!?!” The guys all exploded with shock, yelling and saying iterations of. “YOU GUYS FUCKED?!” With Chris even claiming he ‘knew it’. You hid your face in your hands and could tell Dico felt bad as he began trying to chill them out, though the smug grin stayed there. “Man I thought one of you guys was fucking in here, not both of you?!” Novak laughed. “I left my broad in my bed to see who it was moaning up a damn storm. “Yeah jesus Y/n you’re very vocal.” Bam cackled. You wanted to curl up and die and also hit yourself for being so nonchalantly loud in a house full of assholes. “Leave her alone guys.” Brandon tried to get them to fuck off. “Alright Mr. Cream pie we’ll leave you be now.” Raab giggled as he took the guys away, your cheeks burning a hot red.

Dico slammed the door, instead picking up an old shirt to use on you. “Fuck I’m sorry.” You shook your head. “No it’s fine, just that almost all of my closest friends have now seen my vagina.” Dico laughed as he held on to your knee and began wiping his cum off you. “Nothing to be ashamed about. You got a-“ You cut him off by slamming your hand against his mouth. “Don’t even.”

End.

@jackussy420 @gnarkillknoxville @lovexjoe @spoookyberry

[bittieswithbrokenbones]

Blueberry is going to learn a harsh lesson about what happens to brats.

Since the moment he was adopted, Blue had his owner wrapped around his bony little finger.

The owner in question was a timid and quiet woman living in her first apartment by herself. Worried about her being alone away from home, her mother had decided to surprise her with a cute and sociable pet bitty. And when she saw her mom carrying in the brand new bitty cage with Blue sitting right in the middle of it, she had been so happy and spent the rest of the day cooing over him and playing together with all the little toys her mother had bought from the pet store.

However, she didn't know a lot about bitties and blueberries tended to have massive egos. Having been spoiled rotten, it only took a few weeks before he expected his Mama's undivided attention no matter what.

If she took too long making food, he'd moan about it and tell her to hurry up. And if she didn't make exactly what he wanted, he'd throw a huge fit, refuse to eat at all for the rest of the day, and say it was her fault he was going hungry.

When she went to the bathroom without him, he'd pound and kick at the door until she let him in, it didn't matter if she was uncomfortable because if he wanted in, he'd get in.

If she was on the phone, he'd shout at her over and over again, getting louder and angrier. Sometimes he'd even start throwing his toys at her until she had to quietly apologize to the person on the other line and hang up.

If that wasn't bad enough, he had started picking up some gross habits. He started to do his business on the bathroom floor because 'it's not fair that mama has a whole room and he has a corner.' Then obviously he started to stink but trying to get Blue to bathe without him throwing a tantrum was near impossible.

It was all getting to be too much; she could feel herself spiraling. She tried everything she could think of but nothing ever worked to calm him down and her life had become a living nightmare. She moved out of her mother's with the hopes that a new place would help her get out of her shell but now it was like she didn't even have a place since Blue ran around it like he owned everything. The fact that she hadn't gotten a fucking noise complaint was a miracle.

It wasn't fair. She fed him, cleaned him, played with him and loved him the best she could but that only got harder and harder the more he whined, cried, piss, shit, screamed, and threw things at her.

All it took was one more bitty-sized outburst.

Blue had been in the middle of another tantrum; Sitting in his mama's lap, all blue-in-the-face and kicking his feet just because she wanted to change the channel to a new show she's been dying to see.

"Fine, w-we'll watch cartoons. " she grit her teeth and tried to calm herself while also pacifying him, "Just quiet down, please? Please?"

When she reached to try and pet his skull, he ducked away and harshly shoved her hand away.

"NYEH! I HATE MAMA!" he screamed with angry tears flowing down his cheeks, "I HATE MAMA! MAMA NEVER LETS ME DO ANYTH-"

Without a second thought, she rose her hand up and slapped him right off of her lap. The force of the impact threw him onto the carpet with a loud thud and she couldn't help the smile that spread on her face at the little bounce of his body after he hit the ground.

For one split second, everything was blissfully silent. Then Blue started screaming with renewed hatred and thrashing around on the carpet like a toddler. Except he wasn't one, he knew better, and she was sick and tired of letting him act like this.

His mama - no, god, she hated that, she hated him, shut up, shut up, shut up - stood up from the couch, leaned down to pluck him up by his skull, and shook him around violently one, two, three times.

"Shut- Shut the hell up before I dust you against the wall."

Blue let out a gasp at her words and went quiet, his eyes widening dramatically in terror. Her breaths came quick and heavy as she wondered how she ever let him go this far before.

"You ungrateful... waste of..." with a huff and a laugh, she shook him again, "Why'd mom have to go and buy- buy me a fucking bitty? If I'd known you'd be this awful, I'd have preferred a hamster."

Three things happened immediately after she said that; Blue started trembling, sniffled, and then let out a loud and annoying 'NYEEEEEEH' as he started bawling. Which only irritated her more.

"Stop Stop Stop Stop- I told you to shut up!"

While he was trying desperately to shake his head and reached up to try and pry her fingers off, she used her other hand to pluck one of his tiny skeleton hands with her thumb and forefinger.

Then she crushed it between them.

The scream died in Blue's throat as his eyelights flickered out from the shock. When she let go of his now destroyed hand, bright blue liquid ran down his legs and hit the floor in drops but she didn't yell at him. And he stayed quiet. After taking a second to slow her breathing, she spoke up again.

"Okay. Okay. Y-Yeah, I... I can't do this anymore. Just- Just stay fucking quiet." She blinked slowly as she tried to think of what to do. God, she was so so over this stupid bitty. As soon as the idea made it's way into her mind, she knew it was perfect.

He whimpered and cried as quietly as he could while she jostled him around on her way to the kitchen. His hand hurt really really bad... He wanted her to set him down and see that his fingers were all wrong and broken. Once she realized what she'd done, surely she'd apologize for all this and fix them. She'll fix them, it's okay. It's okay.

Blue didn't even realize what was happening until she dropped him into the blender. She had used it a few times in front of him and it always made him whine because the way it eviscerated fruit so quickly scared him. This was why.

He had just barely managed to land his legs between the gaps of the blades when he hit the bottom of the jar. As soon as he adjusted himself to stand, he was pounding and kicking on the glass frantically.

"WAIT NO- MAMA- NO-" He sobbed uncontrollably and hit the glass over and over again with his hands even though every hit made his broken fingers explode with pain, "I'M SORRY!! I'M SORRY MAMA!! I LOVE YOU!! NO-"

Despite his screams and begging, she tapped the PULSE button. With a flash of the blade, he was swept down and the bottom of the glass smeared blue. The scream that came out of him was blood-curdling but she quickly shut him up by clicking down the LIQUEFY button.

The relief she felt as jar was full of nothing but thick blue liquid in seconds crashed into her like a wave and when she turned the blender off, her apartment was blissfully silent.

She'll probably tell her mom that she woke up to a dusty cage or that she wasn't paying attention when he fell off the kitchen counter. Either way, she'll just cry a little, blame herself, be comforted, and then say she'll say something like she'll 'never love another bitty like she did Blue' so she can put this whole thing behind her.

She'll worry about the details of her story later. For now though? She's gonna go watch that show.

[chronicbeans]

The Suggestions Box

(an Abandoned by Playfellow AU short)

You are tasked to look through the suggestions box, a box filled with the suggestions and comments of your fellow employees, and clean out answered suggestions. It hasn't been sorted through in about a year.

TW: Depression/Anxiety, Threats of Violence/Death Threats, Traumatic Events, Abusive Work Environment, Death, Eating Disorders/Focus on Body Weight and Type, Vomit (Seriously y'all it gets gross-), Body Horror/Gore

Opening up the box, you sigh in disdain. There has to be hundreds of tiny slips of paper in here, with most not even being replied to. So, you have to read every single one just to get every suggestion that was replied to out of the box. Damn it.

You pick out the first suggestion, which is from a janitor who signed it C.M.:

"Suggestion: I need a fucking raise. I just cleaned up puke from a kid who ate a Poppy's Chocolate Sundae Cake, by the Painter's Isle. Took me three hours to get rid of the brown stains on the rainbow carpets, and even longer to get rid of the rancid smell. What the fuck are we even feeding the kids here to make chocolate puke smell like rotten chicken?

-C.M. Janitor"

There isn't an answer on the back, so you quickly place it by the box. What a great way to start the day... reading a vile description about puke! Fucking amazing...

"Suggestion: I keep seeing this one kid climbing over the fence of Wally's Road Trip. Sure, the ride is safe when you are in the ride, but he's climbing right onto the tracks! That coaster goes about 20 miles per hour! We need the fence to be taller or something.

-Sam Jenkins Security

Answer: Sam, we cannot afford to make the fences taller. You will just need to keep watch of the children. That is your job, after all.

-Management"

Well... Not the best answer, but still an answer. So, you place it by the bucket that was given to you to collect answered suggestions. Alright, next paper.

"Suggestion: Whoever the FUCK keeps puking in the Barnaby costume, I fucking hate you. You do know that other people here play Barnaby, right? You could at least warn a fellow by leaving a note or something before somebody else wears it. I didn't notice until I got in the suit, and my face was covered in it. Jackass. Others have started complaining, too. I suggest management gives us more breaks, so whoever the weak stomached bitch is doesn't keep puking everywhere.

-David Dwyer Suit Mascot

Answer: I apologize for the incident, Mr. Dwyer. However, we cannot give more breaks. We shall try to figure out who keeps getting sick, so we can have a physical done to ensure that they are still healthy enough to be a mascot.

-Management"

Again? AGAIN?! Why the fuck is there so much puke already...? Yeah, you expected it, but really? Thank God you aren't a mascot. Well, into the bucket.

"Suggestion: I'm worried for Angelo. You know, Angelo Dalisay? The guy who plays Wally Darling most of the time. He's been losing weight pretty fast. I think he might be sick. Maybe the food was bad or something? Can you have someone check the kitchens for sanitation? Please and thank you.

-Angelica Carter Julie Joyful Actress

Answer: Our kitchens are clean.

-Management"

Angelo... yeah, you remember Angelo. You've seen him from time to time. He has been getting pretty skinny, lately... Really skinny. Unhealthy skinny. The kids don't seem to mind, though, and he doesn't say anything when asked. What an odd answer... "Our kitchens are clean.", with no further comment on Angelo's health. Why doesn't he get a health check up?

You place the paper in the bucket. Next one.

"Suggestion: I keep seeing a Wally actor running around, not staying in character. His clothes are a mess. He's been scaring the kids. Whenever I get close enough to catch him, he finds a way to escape, then disappears around a corner. Please, do something!

-Security"

Okay... odd. You know what? Everything you've read so far is weird. It's only your third week here and you are already so confused. No answer... By the box it goes.

"Suggestion: SERIOUSLY, WHOEVER THE FUCK YOU ARE, I AM GOING TO BEAT YOU WITH A GOLF CLUB."

-David Dwyer Suit Mascot"

No answer. You don't want to dwell on this one. Into the unanswered pile.

The next one you pick up is covered in yellow paint... you are guessing face and body paint, since the actors for Wally and Sally ha e to paint their faces and hands yellow.

"Suggestion: I can't stop smiling. I don't want to smile anymore. My face is tired. I can't stop smiling. Can someone help me wipe it off?

-"

You don't find any answer, per say, but flipping it over to the back, you find a scribbled on note.

"I don't know who wrote this, but I found it on the ground by the body paint storage. I don't know why we keep the paints and foods so close to each other. There was a pile of used makeup remover, paper towels, and face cleaners next to it. Can whoever wrote this tell me? Does this have to do with that weird Wally Actor that security keeps talking about?

I don't feel safe, I might quit.

-Sarah Jones Cooking Staff"

Okay... back to the box, you guess?

"Suggestion: Can we please have a health check for Angelo? PLEASE? Something is clearly wrong! I just saw him eating some food, then he rushed to the employee restrooms and started puking! Then, he walked out like he was fine! Some of the things Miss Carter mentioned when I told her are concerning, as well. He's skin and bones right now! Clearly, he isn't fit to work, much less play Wally! What if his appearance scares the kids?

-Gertrude Stone Suit Mascot"

"Answer: We understand your concerns, Miss Stone, but we assure you that he is alright. His weight is still healthy enough for him to keep playing Wally Darling. When we confronted him, he said it was to make sure his weight stays within limits to play the character. He isn't sick. After all, for Wally Darling actors, the smaller the better! It makes him look more petite and closer to the puppet 's body type. The children adore him, as well.

-Management"

On the side of the answer box, you see that somebody has written "BULLSHIT" in big, red letters. Somebody must've gotten in here before you have. Once again, thank God you aren't a mascot. The answer is really alarming, however... Did they even have him check in with a medical professional? Healthy enough? You feel gross just reading it.

You... don't want to keep going through the suggestions box. Maybe just one more, so it looks like you tried? Your boss might send you to look through it again on a later date, but you are feeling like reading all of this is weighing you down. When you heard you were going to be going through a suggestions box, you expected things like "raise my wage" or "hire more cleaning staff"... Not whatever this stuff is. You feel like you've stumbled upon something you shouldn't be seeing, but still needs to be seen.

You dig into the bottom of the box, pulling out a slip of paper. This time, it seems to be covered in red paint.

"Suggestion: I can't stop smiling. My face won't come off. I can't stop smiling. My face won't come off. I can't stop smiling. My face won't come off. I can't stop smiling. My face won't come off. I can't stop smiling. My face won't come off. Please let me stop smiling.

-Where's Frank's attitude when you need him?"

You hesitate, before flipping over the slip of paper. More writing. It's all in frantic, shaky, scribbled handwriting, as if the person was in some sort of rush or panic.

"Julie can't stop smiling. Sally can't stop smiling. Poppy can't stop smiling. Barnaby can't stop smiling. Howdy can't stop smiling. Eddie can't stop smiling. Frank is the only one who never smiles. Maybe he can't stop frowning? It hurts to smile. It hurts to smile. I'm not happy and it hurts to keep smiling. WHENEVER I TRY TO FROWN I FEEL AND HEAR SOMETHING SNAPPING IN MY FACE. Do they hurt too?

The people around us can stop smiling. The people who aren't as bright and colorful. I can't help but be jealous. Do they hurt when they smile? I'll help them wipe it off."

You stare at the paper, wide-eyed and dumbfounded. How are you supposed to respond to this? What are you supposed to even THINK about this? Will the management even care about this? They haven't cared about Angelo's health, they haven't cared about threats in the suggestions box, they haven't cared about a possible imposter scaring the customers! Should you even bother putting it back into the box-?

"YOU... OPEN...?"

You whip your head around, seeing a yellow hand on the window by the door. You quickly shove the suggestion into your pocket, frowning. Maybe it's Angelo at the door? He clearly hasn't been well... What if he needs immediate help?

Opening up that door, you instantly regret it as a disgusting, rotten smell hits your nose. Looking up at the man, you can tell that it is NOT Angelo. He may be dressed as Wally, but it isn't Angelo in costume. His clothes and hair are a mess, much like in the suggestions talking about this imposter, but that isn't what you notice first.

His smile is too wide.

IT LITERALLY SPLITS FROM EAR TO EAR.

You try to close the door on him, only for whoever it is to grab it and hold it open. A monotone voice speaks, which you can only assume is from the strange person. He leans in as he speaks, only making the rotting smell coming from him more apparent. Is this what a corpse smells like?

"It... hurts... to smile.... It hurts... to move my face... You too? Help me... wipe it off?"

You frantically look around, trying to find something, anything to get this person out of the room. You unknowingly end up shaking your head as you look around the room, which the man seems to take as a "no".

"No...? O.... okay... I'll go... Find manage... ment. They'll know... what to do..."

He walks away. He walks away like nothing happened. You slam the door shut, dropping to the floor and taking a few, shaking breaths. Your arms are shaking heavily, alongside your legs. Scratch that, your entire body is shaking like a leaf.

You heard of that imposter Wally, but you always thought it was a joke. Now, however, you have been proven wrong. As much as you want to quit, however, you need this job... You have too many unpaid bills and debts, and if you quit, who knows when you'll get hired for another job?

Plus, as horrifying as that situation was... for whatever reason, that imposter didn't attack you... He seemed rather docile, actually.

Once you calm yourself down, you stand up, grabbing the answered suggestions bucket. Then, you book it out of there as fast as possible, hoping that you don't see that Wally again, today.

[the-very-awesome-prussia]

The plan was simple, knock on England's door and then have him answer and then annoy him to death, easy peasy right. Not so easy peasy. First off, he didn't answer the door, second off, he left it completely unlocked and Prussia still doesn't know why to this day.

He walked around wordlessly but not before taking off his shoes because it's gross to have shoes on in the house, at least that's what people tell me.

He eventually saw some flashing colors and decided to follow the lights and sounds that came from the basement…

"Hello."

"Ah!" He then turned around and realized it was just Prussia, "oh my god, what the bloody hell is wrong with you? Just barging into my house like that? Without even knocking!?"

"I knocked a lot of times actually, but anywayssss what you up to," he asked as he scooted closer to the experiment he was working on.

"It's a potion to hopefully stop Russia from coming through the floor again. It's very specific so don't touch anything."

"Whatever slay queen," he says because he's cringe and free.

"The queen is dead," he says monotonously before putting in another ingredient.

"I wasn't talking about-"

"I'm autistic, don't."

"You're artistic?"

"No autistic."

"Automatic?"

"No-"

"Acoustic?"

"N-"

"Aristocratic?"

"No I swear to god, I said autistic."

"Is that a new sexuality?"

"No, that's aromantic… also, that's not a sexuality."

"Damn I didn't know you were gay alright."

"I'm done reacting to you," he turned back to his potion before putting the last bottle in, yes bottle and all.

After a while of stirring, the potion was finished, "great! Now I can finally deal with this "humans coming out of my floor" problem," he purposely knocked over the potion, letting it seep into the red carpet.

"Gross, my feet are stained now," he looked down at the potion seeping into every corner.

"Why the hell are you barefoot."

"And "why the hell" are you wearing shoes indoors."

"Because I was aware of the experiment I was trying."

"Well I sure wasn't!"

England sighed, shaking his head, "never mind that. Why are you even here anyways?"

"Germany said something something… I forgot actually…"

"God I hate you sometimes, I'm going to text him and ask," he got out his phone and asked, he just needed some milk for dinner that they were missing.

"Well, dinner's definitely done by now, it feels a little too late to get that for them now, wanna stay for tea?"

"Nah I don't want that pissy shit-"

"I'll make it alcohol."

"Deal!"

An hour later England was passed out drunk while Prussia was just sitting there, bored as all hell. Like yeah maybe he drew marker on his face as soon as he passed out because it was funny, but he felt a bit bad for the man so he grabbed a blanket from the living room and threw it on him in a rush before running back out of the house.

[art-i-generated]

Okay, I'm supposed to read this book for English class. What's it called again? Oh yeah, Moby Dick. Sounds like a stupid name for a book. But whatever, I'll give it a chance. Let's see... "Call me Ishmael." Who's Ishmael? Is he the whale? No, that can't be right. Wait, this is just talking about whales for like, a whole chapter? That's boring as hell. Why does my teacher think we need to read this? I don't even like the ocean. And who cares about some old-timey sailors? This is so stupid. I'm never going to finish this book. Maybe I can just find a summary online or something. Ugh, why do I have to do this?

Okay, I guess I gotta keep reading this stupid book. Let's see... "The Carpet-Bag." What kind of title is that? Whatever, let's just get this over with. Blah blah blah, Ishmael is going to Nantucket, blah blah blah, he's staying at an inn, blah blah blah, some weird guy named Queequeg shows up. Wait, what? Queequeg? Is that even a real name? And why does he have tattoos all over his face? This is so weird. And why is Ishmael sharing a bed with him? That's kind of creepy, isn't it? Oh great, now they're talking about a harpoon. This is so boring. Why do I care about harpoons? I don't even know what they're for. Ugh, I'm never going to finish this book. I'd rather be playing video games or something. Why did my teacher assign us this? It's not even modern English. This is torture.

Whoa, what's going on here? They're talking about this guy Ahab and how he's obsessed with this white whale. This is getting interesting. Wait, they're going on this big voyage to try and find the whale? And Ahab's going to kill it? That's crazy. But kind of cool. I mean, at least something's happening now. And they're talking about all these different types of whales and how they hunt them. I never knew this stuff. It's kind of fascinating. And now they're describing the crew and what they do on the ship. This is actually kind of cool. I can see why this book is famous. It's like a whole different world. But why is Ahab so obsessed with the whale? And why does he have a peg leg? Oh man, this is getting intense. I want to know what happens next. Maybe this book isn't so bad after all. I'll have to keep reading and see what happens to this Ahab guy and the whale.

What the heck? This whole chapter is just about cutting up a whale? Why do I care about this? I mean, I get that they caught a whale and now they have to do something with it, but this is so boring. Why do I need to know how to cut up a whale? And why does the author keep using all these weird words for the different parts? I'm so confused. I don't even know what a "case-knife" or a "monkey-rope" is. And why do they need to use so many different tools? Can't they just use a saw or something? This is so gross. I don't want to hear about blubber and guts and all that. Why did the author even include this chapter? It's not like it's advancing the plot or anything. This is so stupid. I don't even want to finish this book anymore. It's just a bunch of nonsense about whales and sailing and cutting things up. Maybe I can just read the SparkNotes and get the gist of it. Ugh, I hate this book.

Okay, I'm almost done with this stupid book. Let's see what happens in the end. Whoa, they finally found the whale! And Ahab's going after it with his harpoon. This is so intense. I can't believe he's doing this. And the way the author describes the whale, it's like it's some kind of monster or something. This is so cool. But wait, what's happening? The ship is starting to sink? Why is that happening? And now Ahab's tangled up in the ropes? This is not good. Oh my God, the whale just dragged him down with him. Ahab's dead? That's insane. And the way the author describes it, it's like it's this epic battle between good and evil or something. This is crazy. And now the rest of the crew is trying to survive on these little boats? That's so scary!

Wait, what? The book is over? That's it? That's the ending? I feel like there should be more. Like, what happened to Ishmael? Did he survive? And what about the rest of the crew? And the whale? Did they really kill it? I have so many questions. But I guess that's the end. And now the author is talking about how the whale represents something deeper, something symbolic. I don't really get it, but I guess it's kind of deep. And the way he ends it with that line, "And I only am escaped alone to tell thee," it's like he's saying that he's the only one who made it out alive to tell the story. That's kind of cool. But I still wish there was more. I feel like I need closure or something. This book was so intense, and now it's just over. I don't know how to feel about it. But I guess that's the point. This book was about the struggle between man and nature, and how sometimes nature wins. And maybe that's all there is to it. I'm glad I read this book. It was kind of weird and boring at times, but in the end, it was pretty cool.

Wait, what? The book is over? That's it? That's the ending? I feel like there should be more. Like, what happened to Ishmael? Did he survive? And what about the rest of the crew? And the whale? Did they really kill it? I have so many questions. But I guess that's the end. And now the author is talking about how the whale represents something deeper, something symbolic. I don't really get it, but I guess it's kind of deep. And the way he ends it with that line, "And I only am escaped alone to tell thee," it's like he's saying that he's the only one who made it out alive to tell the story. That's kind of cool. But I still wish there was more. I feel like I need closure or something. This book was so intense, and now it's just over. I don't know how to feel about it. But I guess that's the point. This book was about the struggle between man and nature, and how sometimes nature wins. And maybe that's all there is to it. I'm glad I read this book. It was kind of weird and boring at times, but in the end, it was pretty cool.

[adhdanalogbrain]

Hi there! I don't have adhd myself, but all three of my roommates do. It makes it almost impossible for them to notice when chores need done, or to even motivate to do chores when reminded (whether by me or the chore apps we've tried). I don't want to resent my friends but I'm getting close, since I'm the only person in the house who does household chores. Do you have any tips on how I can help them, and how they can help themselves?

Ok so I've been chewing on this response for a while. Because there's no one technique or life hack that can solve this situation easily -- BUT i do believe you and your roommates have the power to solve it, with understanding and a helluva lot of communication. First Im going to explain how the adhd brain can react to chores, them I'm going to share how you can outwit the adhd brain through the power of friendship (e.g., communication, teamwork, and the benefit of the doubt).

So, for a lot of people with executive dysfunction problems, chores are THE WORST.

1. Some of them happen regularly, and others are intermittent. Since it's already hard for us to notice the existence of time, this fact hits us coming and going.

2. Some of them are suuuuuuuuuuuuper boring, which is absolute agony and makes 10 minutes feel like 2 hours of torture.

3. Some require multiple steps, so we cant figure out how to get started, so we get overwhelmed and freak out.

4. Starting a new thing -- overcoming the inertia of I'm Already Doing Something Else -- is really hard.

5. If there is any kind of obstacle to getting started on the chore, our motivation to do the thing can fizzle out.

6. Many of us associate chores with punishment / bad feelings, because we grew up in households that didn't acknowledge our difficulties, or blamed us, or guilt tripped us, or used chores as a punishment.

But!!! All is not lost!! This is where the power of Friendship comes in, because it sounds like there are at least 4 people in your house, which means there's 4 people to help each other outsmart their brains and get stuff done.

The first thing to do is sit down with your roommates and have an honest conversation about the chores. This is NOT a, "Chris you didnt do the dishes the last 3 weeks" conversation! The theme of this conversation is: "The chores gotta get done. Let's brainstorm together how to get that done."

Here are some things that you all, as a group, gotta figure out together:

1. What are the communal chores that need doing, and how regularly do they need to get done?

-Write this all down! Right there at the table! ADHD brains can sometimes need things pinned down in letters on a page before we can grok them. And some things that seem Really Big out loud can turn out to look a lot less intimidating on paper.

-Sometimes people have different expectations for what a specific chore requires. My spouse balked at vacuuming for a long time before I realized that for him, vacuuming meant moving all the furniture to get every single speck of carpet in the house. Me saying "God no please just vacuum the carpet you can easily reach" solved that issue.

2. What chores do people hate? Why?

- The "Why?" is important. If someone hates doing dishes because it makes their hands wet and they have to touch Gross Things, that doesn't mean they never have to do dishes -- it means they should try wearing rubber dish gloves to see if that helps.

3. What chores do people not mind doing?

-My spouse haaaates folding laundry, and I dont mind it, so voila, that is now my task.

4. What sorts of things stand in the way of getting chores done?

Examples might include:

- I wanted to put the dirty dishes in the dishwasher, but the clean dishes were still in there, and my brain was so set on dirties -> dishwasher I couldn't brain how to switch over to putting the clean stuff away first. (Solution: "Dishes" might be broken up into more discrete tasks)

-I was supposed to sweep but there were Things on the floor (Solution: "It's ok to sweep around things on the floor.")

-I know I'm supposed to take the trash out every Sunday but I didn't realize it was Sunday until Monday started (Solution: "Take the trash out on Monday and let it sit there till the following Sunday" OR "Put the trash bags right in front of the door so you cant miss them when you leave the house")

- The pile of dishes was so big i got overwhelmed and left the room (Solution: "You don't have to do ALL the dishes, just a sinkful" OR "Step 1 of doing dishes is restacking them more neatly on the counter")

5. What are some workarounds we can figure out around the above obstacles to help each other get everything done?

- In my house, we don't have a dishwasher. I will wake up in the morning and start a load in the sink, and wash enough dishes to fill the dish rack. When my spouse wakes up an hour later, he puts the clean dishes away. Over the course of a day, by tagging in and out, we get all the dishes done (mostly).

-We talk ALL THE TIME about what we need to get done and what is stopping us, and how we can help each other overcome the mental obstacle.

Example: "I know i need to do some dishes but the size of the stack is killing me." "Would it help if I washed the two big saucepans so that the stack is smaller?" "OH GOD YES."

-We ask each other for help when we need it! "Hey I can do all the laundry if you could just carry the basket downstairs for me."

So.

I know you are getting irritated by the current chore situation. You also dont want to "nag" people or be, like, some sort of parental figure dispensing chore assignments to your grumbling roommates. And you don't want to be left doing all the chores all the time, slowly seething.

None of that needs to happen.

Talk with your roomates. Have an honest conversation focused on problem solving. No blame. No pointing fingers. Y'all are the Avengers, or the Justice League, or your Found-Family-Trope Of Choice. The only rules are:

1. COMMUNICATE

2. Work together

3. Communicate some more. Ongoing communication. Regular check-ins. Task-swapping. Teamwork.

4. Give each other the benefit of the doubt. No one is skipping chores to be mean, or to punish anyone else. If something gets missed, talk and brainstorm and help each other.

You're a really great friend, to reach out for help about this! You can do it!

[dirty-urie]

Behave

4.7k Words

Warnings: public sex, oral sex, brief mention of drugs

Based on these requests

Your mouth gapes open. “Bren,” you sputter. “Why didn’t you tell me this before I got here?”

Brendon smiles guiltily. “Then you wouldn’t have come.”

You glare at him before glaring at the bus that you’ll all be crammed into for your week-long visit.

“C’mon, baby, it won’t be so bad,” Brendon says. “You liked living on the tour bus with all the guys when we first started dating.”

“That was before you spoiled me with our own bus! Plus we all lie at the beginning of relationships. You pretended to like feminist literature for like three months.”

“I do like feminist literature! The Bell Jar was deeply poignant!”

You sigh. “You only know that book because it was in 10 Things I Hate About You.”

“Okay, fine. I should have told you my bus broke down,” Brendon finally caves. “I’ll get you a ticket home. You shouldn’t have to deal with the peasant bus.”

You laugh, wrapping your arms around him. “Oh no no. You’re not getting rid of me that easily, pretty boy,” you say, pecking his cheek. “I may hate crowded tour buses, but I hate being away from you more.”

Brendon strokes your hair. “So brave for me, baby. And lucky for you I’m very good at bunk sex.” He winks.

You scoff. “Ha, nope, mister. You are not getting any this week.”

“We’ll see. I’m pretty irresistible,” he says, walking with you onto the bus.

You roll your eyes. “I think I’ll manage. Plus you said I get my own bunk, right?”

Brendon nods, punching in the code for the door. As soon as you’re on the bus, Brendon grabs your shoulders, in both an attempt to comfort you and an attempt to prevent you from immediately running away. There are food wrappers strewn about, a carpet of dirty clothes lining the floor, and two flies buzzing anxiously about the enclosed space. “I will clean this up, don’t worry, sweet girl.” Brendon laughs nervously.

You take a deep breath while Brendon gathers dirty underwear and greasy pizza boxes. You crack open a few windows and start tidying up the kitchenette, making the place decently livable. “Sorry to be such a diva, Brendon.”

Brendon shakes his head, putting a bag of laundry and a bag of trash near the door for Zack to take out later. “We’ve all been complaining about the mess for weeks. We’ve just been too lazy to do something about it.” He walks forward. “Plus, a clean bus means I get to do this.” He lifts you up by your hips, and places you on the now-clean kitchenette counter.

You grasp the back of his head with both hands, frantically crashing his lips against yours. You waste no time getting your hand down his pants, finally wrapping your hand around his stiffening cock like you’ve been dreaming of. He groans, deep and guttural, as his head tips back in bliss. He yanks his sweatpants down, and you feel his erection between you. You wrap your legs around him and grind on his cock, kissing him desperately. You slide your hand up his back under his shirt. “Oh god, Bren, I’m so wet you whine.”

“Fuck. I’m so hard,” Brendon groans. “Need to come soon. Can I come inside you?”

“Please,” you whine, and he starts to press into you.

You hear the beeping of the electric keypad to the bus, and before you have time to react, the bus door slams open and Brendon’s band mates pour in. You scramble to pull away from each other, and you blush bright red as you tuck Brendon’s cock into his pants.

Nicole wolf-whistles and cackles. “Oh gross, guys. That’s where we cook! Or, er, that’s where we put our pizza boxes when we get take out.”

Mike flushes brighter than you and Brendon. Zack, forever unfazed, just rolls his eyes. “I would like to remind everyone, not anyone in particular, I’m not singling anyone out, that the tour bus still has a strict ban on fucking.”

Dan, Nicole, and Mike snort, and you bury your face in Brendon’s chest, partially to hide your embarrassment, and partially to hide your giggles. “Brendon didn’t respect the no fucking rule back in his single days, and he certainly won’t respect it when the love of his life is here,” Dan teases.

You grin at the words ‘love of his life’ before sliding off the counter. Brendon pulls you close to him immediately, and you don’t realize why until you feel his erection pressing against your ass. He’s using you to hide it. You bite your lip, trying not to rub back against him. “Don’t worry, Zack. We’ll behave,” you promise. Brendon kisses up the nape of your neck, and you have to fight back a moan.

Zack stares at both of you disbelievingly. “Mhm. Brendon? You’ll behave?”

Brendon grabs your ass, and you squeal, turning around to lock your lips with his again.

Someone clears their throat behind you, and you separate again, both staring at the floor. “I’ll make him behave, Zack,” you mumble. “He’s in trouble anyway.”

Everyone settles into the lounge, and you do too, sitting in Brendon’s lap.

“Why’s he in trouble?” Nicole asks curiously, sipping a diet soda.

“He didn’t tell me his bus broke down before I showed up,” you explain, and everyone else in the lounge cracks up at you. Your cheeks heat, and you fidget as embarrassment rises back in your throat. They’re distinctly laughing at you, but you’re not sure why.

“Aww, poor princess, you’re stuck in the shithole bus,” Zack snarks, and Brendon strokes your arm soothingly.

“Hey, she served her time in the shithole,” Brendon snaps. “She spent a whole tour during Too Weird in a bus with all the guys. And need I remind you that you fuckers are paid to be here. Y/n is gracing us with her presence out of the kindness of her heart.”

You twist to peck him on the cheek. “Thanks for defending my honor, babe.”

Brendon waggles his eyebrows. “Oh I'm sure you’ll find a way to thank me later.”

“Nice try, baby boy, we’ll be in separate beds anyway,” you scoff, “I’ll be able to resist your Urie Charm just fine.”

“Oh fine,” Brendon sighs.

“Such a good husband, baby boy,” Zack mocks.

You pinch Brendon’s cheek affectionately. “Look at dis man. You’re just jealous he’s not your baby boy.” You snuggle against him.

Everyone fakes a gag, and Brendon kisses all over your face. “Mmm, I’m a slut for you, honey.”

“Y’all are fucking gross,” Nicole howls.

Brendon kisses the top of your head, standing up. “Nah, we’re cute. Admit it,” he says playfully before turning his back to the lounge and heading to the bunk area. ”Okay, I’m turning in. Use my card if you order any food or drinks.”

Cheers erupt from the group, and Brendon turns over his shoulder to shoot a wink at you.

Nicole makes Zack pick up Sonic during his trash run, and you stay up later with the band playing strip go-fish, a game Brendon invented when he wanted to get naked but was too drunk to play poker. Now it’s a beloved Panic! past time.

“Dan, do you have any queens?” you ask Dan nervously. You’re down to a t-shirt, bra, and panties, and if you don’t get this card, you’ll have to drop out.

Dan grins, and your stomach drops. “Go fiiiiiii-,” he starts and your nostrils flare. “Go figure, you’d ask for the one card I have,” he laughs, handing you three queens.”

You slump in relief before you smack his arm. “Fuck. Dude. You had me going there.”

The key-pad beeps, and you all look at the door, expecting Zack back with your food. Instead Fall Out Boy pours in, and Pete pumps his fists in celebration. “Zack said there’s strip go-fish?” He asks, as everyone, in various states undress, flocks to the newcomers.

“Hell yeah, now it’s a party,” Nicole calls, turning up the music. “Are you staying the night?

“You know we are!”

Zack follows behind the band, holding three massive bags of fast food and a garbage bag of clean laundry. “Everyone behave, we have a show tomorrow,” he reminds before checking his watch, a difficult feat with the food. “Or, um, later today I guess. It’s 5 am.”

“Shit that’s late!” you exclaim. You kiss Patrick’s cheek, the last of the boys you greet. “I’m sorry to leave the party as it’s getting started, but I’m jetlagged, I’ll see you guys at the show?”

The FOB guys nod.

“Oh!” Zack calls after you. ”Y/n, do you mind bunking with B? We’re low on space now,” he asks, and you try to glower at him without anyone else noticing.

“That’s fine,” you grumble, going into the bunk area and shutting the divider. It somewhat muffles the music and laughter, but you can clearly hear them, and you know they could clearly hear you.

You crawl into Brendon’s top bunk and shed your bra. Brendon instinctively nuzzles against you, and you whine. Your brain may be pissed at him, but your body can’t resist him as temptation burns through you. “You feel good,” Brendon says, nibbling at your lip. “Mmm, and you’re not wearing pants.”

You pull away from him as much as you can in the tiny bunk. “Don’t start something we can’t finish,” you whisper sharply.

Brendon places a gentle kiss on your temple before scooting against the back wall of the bunk. “Not trying to. Just love to be close to you.”

You roll onto your other side, facing away from him. He hugs you from behind, sliding his hand under your shirt to rest it on your boobs. You sigh in contentment, squirming back against him.

Brendon nips at the back of your neck. “What happened to not starting something we can’t finish, baby?”

“You’re the one with the hand on my-” you hiss. Brendon puts a finger on your lips before silently pointing down to an occupied bunk below.

“Fuck,” you mouth. You need him inside you. You place your mouth right next to his ear. “Are you actually good at bunk sex?” you whisper. You don’t remember ever having bunk sex with Brendon. You usually waited for a hotel night. Or you tried to secretly fuck in the back lounge. Or the front lounge. Or a bathroom. Or somewhere backstage. Or one memorable time, on the roof of some producer’s mansion. But bunks are cramped and inconvenient and hard to clean. They’re a last resort.

Brendon nods eagerly. “Although, fair warning, it’s been a while. Okay, you get on top. Lie flat on top of me.”

You look at him quizzically. There’s not nearly enough space to ride him if he wants that.

“Just trust me, okay?” he murmurs, and you groan, rolling on top of him.

“I need you to fuck me,” you hiss quietly.

“Baby,” he says, amused, “I can’t fuck you if my dick is trapped between us. Scooch up a bit.”

You straddle him, standing up on your knees so he can shimmy his briefs down. He lifts his hips, and you smack your head on the ceiling of the bunk. “Fuck, Brendon,” you say at full volume before you blanch, imagining how a nosy eavesdropper could misconstrue that in a sexual context.

Brendon lays back flat on the mattress, murmuring hushed apologies.

“No, no, it’s fine,” you wave him off, ignoring the unpleasant throb of pain in your head. “Hm, I can make this work,” you muse, assessing him. His briefs are half-way down his thighs, but at least his cock is out.

You stand up on your knees again to position yourself over him, and your knee slips off the bunk’s edge. Brendon grabs you to keep you from tumbling onto the floor, and you end up smashing into his chest with your other knee.

“Damnit,” he mutters. “Fuck, this shouldn’t be this hard.”

“You shouldn’t be this hard,” you laugh, grabbing his cock. “The minor contusions didn’t kill your erection?”

“I haven’t gotten laid in so long, baby! Don’t judge me!”

You sigh, rolling your eyes. “Bren, I don’t think sex is going to happen tonight.”

“Let me try one more thing,” Brendon pleads, and you try not to get your hopes up.

“Okay.”

Brendon kisses you in gratitude. “Roll on your side away from me. Towards the curtain,” he instructs.

You roll on your side, and you feel him roll next to you, spooning you, his erection pressing against your ass. He pushes your panties to the side and moves your leg back over his hip. He pushes into your pussy and you inhale, trying to keep yourself from moaning. “God, I love your cock,” you whisper.

He reaches over you to stroke up your clit, and your body jerks at the shock of pleasure. He thrusts into you quickly but shallowly, restricted by the wall behind him and you in front of him. “I’ve missed this, baby,” he tells you, slamming his hips hard against you trying to get deeper.

You bring a hand to your breast, rubbing your nipple and making a mental note to get your tits in Brendon’s mouth the next time you fuck. He bites your shoulder to keep quiet, and you clench your teeth, only letting out small whimpers.

He speeds up on your clit, and your walls tighten. A shriek escapes your lips right as the music in the lounge turns off, and Brendon stills. “Bren! Wha- fuck! Keep going!” you demand.

Brendon kisses your shoulder and strokes your hair. “Baby, people will be coming to bed soon, and even if you could stay quiet when you come, which I doubt, you are… how do I put this? Uh, audibly wet.”

“Bren, I need to come,” you whine. “And you do too, you’re so hard. And you said so yourself, it’s been so long.”

You hear the door to the bunk area slide open, and you and Brendon both fall silent.

“My dressing room tomorrow,” Brendon breathes into your ear. Your heat pulses, and Brendon squeezes your hip with your hand. “We have to behave until then though.”

•••

Someone snaps the curtain of your bunk open, and you flinch as harsh lighting floods the tiny space.

“Hey, Sleeping Beauties,” Zack barks right in your face. You’re glad Brendon covered you with a blanket because he’s still buried in you. “Time to get into the venue. You’re the only people not ready to go.”

Brendon grumbles and swats at him blindly. “A few more minutes.”

“Now. Or else I’m making you haul equipment.”

“C’mon, Uries, I need to shower,” Nicole whines from behind him.

You yank the curtain shut and moan deliberately loudly as you fuck yourself back on Brendon, hard from a dream.

Everyone groans. “Get a room,” someone calls.

Brendon laughs, pulling out of you with a playful moan. You roll out of bed, only wearing soaked panties and a thin t-shirt.

Brendon follows behind you a few seconds later in boxers, an oversized hoodie, and a pair of slides. He slings his duffel bag over his shoulder. “Kay. I’m ready to go.”

You grab your backpack and climb on Brendon’s back. “Me too.”

“Babe, you wanna put clothes on?” an amused Brendon asks, turning his neck awkwardly to look back at you.

“Nah.”

Mike grins as everyone heads out of the bus. “Brendon, did you meet y/n on a dating site for nudists?”

You and Brendon chuckle. “Nope, he converted me,” you say affectionately, pulling his hair.

Brendon’s knees buckle. “Baby, you can’t do that while I’m holding you… or, uh, while I’m wearing loose boxers.”

You grin at how you’re affecting him, and everyone else cackles.

“Awww stop being all cute and gross and horny while I’m single,” Nicole mutters.

“I don’t foresee that happening,” you say apologetically before turning your attention back to your husband. “Hurry up, Brendon, I wanna get to the dressing room.”

•••

You slam the door to the dressing room with your foot as soon as you and Brendon get inside it. You hop off his back and peel off your shirt, exposing your bare breasts. “C’mon, babe, fuck me,” you plead. “I need you.”

Brendon rushes towards you eagerly. “I need you too. My wife, my love.” His lips collide with yours, and he shoves his hand down your panties.

Zack pounds on the door. “Open up.”

You groan in frustration and collapse on the couch, still shirtless. You hope Zack will get the message and leave you alone.

“Fuck,” Brendon mutters, opening the door.

Zack is holding a clipboard, and he does not seem apologetic that he clearly interrupted a tryst. “Brendon, you need to get dressed, you have interviews with Alternative Press, Paper, a local radio station…” Zack drones on with lists of sources that need your husband. You need your husband damnit. Your clit hasn’t stopped throbbing since you first laid eyes on him in the airport.

Brendon looks at you helplessly, his arousal draining away as it’s replaced with annoyance. “Zack, give me fifteen minutes to get dressed and finger my wife,” Brendon attempts to compromise. “Then I’m yours until showtime. I promise.”

“Okay fine, but no complaining and no sneaking off. You will go where I want when I want,” Zack says, leaving the dressing room.

Brendon closes the dressing room door and pounces on you as you shriek and giggle, grabbing his head. “Where were we?” he breathes.

“Fingers. Clit. Now,” you choke out, sliding down your panties.

Brendon takes off his hoodie. His muscled chest is bare. You stroke his stomach, relishing the way it quivers and flexes under your touch. “Baby, no,” Brendon says. “You can’t get me too worked up. This is about you.”

“I can’t get off without touching you,” you whine, stroking his cock through the fabric of his boxers. You straddle Brendon’s lap, grinding on his hard cock as your lips meet his urgently. Your tongue slides into his mouth and you soak in his familiar taste. “I’ve missed this mouth.” You roll on him, relishing the feeling of his throbbing thickness under you.

“You feel so good,” he sighs in bliss. “But, baby, you’re not going to come like this in time. Let me get a finger on your clit.”

“Don’t wanna come without you,” you pout, rocking back and forth on his shaft.

Brendon looks at the clock before he shoves his boxers down. You slide off of him onto your stomach, parallel with the couch, you suck Brendon down, fighting off your gag reflex triumphantly. You spread your legs, and Brendon gets the message, reaching between them to bring them under you to finger you.

You squeeze his base while you catch your breath through your nose before you swallow the rest of his pulsing cock. You suck hard as you pull back, your tongue pressing right against a sensitive vein. He bucks up and you moan around him, sending a thrill through his whole body. You taste precome as his fingers speed up on your clit.

“So greedy, babe, you love my cock,” he says in wonderment. You snort, his cock is perfect, but you don’t love it nearly as much as he loves your pussy. “God, play with my dick, rub my tip.”

You continue to bob on his cock, tonguing at his tip on your upstrokes, until he hisses. “Shit baby, about to come,” and you pull off his dick completely. “Wha- baby baby what have to come,” he says all in one breath.

You cackle, sitting up and sliding away from him. “Nope. You’re still in trouble. And you only have two minutes to get dressed. You can come after your show.”

Brendon sputters, looking down at his dick helplessly. “Y/n. Do you know what happened to the last girl to give me blue balls?”

You nod, half a cheeky grin on your face. “Oh I know. Never talked to that girl again. But,” you lean in close to whisper right in his ear while you grab his cock firmly, “you weren’t legally bound with her.” His cock twitches and leaks precome like a faucet. You squeeze his base hard, worried he’ll come even with as little stimulation as you’re giving him. “Behave, Urie,” you purr, “or I’ll put on the cock ring. Can’t have you coming before you do it in my tight pussy.”

Zack raps on the door impatiently. “One minute warning, B.”

Brendon limps awkwardly to his bag and pulls out a pair of jeans, which he can barely close and zip over his erection. The fabric strains noticeably, a small dark spot already forming over his tip. “Fuck,” he groans. “This isn’t going to work. Everyone is going to see.”

You lick your lips, approaching him. “Hm, as much as I would love everyone seeing how big and hard my husband gets for me,” you start. You unzip his cock, and he sighs in relief.

“Are you going to get me off?” he asks hopefully.

You scoff, pointing his dick straight up and pressing to his stomach before closing his jeans over it. His head peeks out the top. You hand him the biggest shirt he owns, so there’s not a great chance of him accidentally exposing himself. “I don’t want you too uncomfortable, baby. Plus, I don't want any of those interviewers getting too nosy.” You kiss his nose. “My boy.”

Brendon pulls you in for a real kiss, tender and chaste. “I’ll miss you, baby,” he sighs.

You rest the palm of your hand against his cheek. “I’ll be right here, love, go do your job.”

•••

“This song is called Middle of a Breakup, and I’m dedicating it to my beautiful wife in the audience tonight,” Brendon says into the microphone, walking around on stage with his confident swagger. The audience goes nuts, and you grin. They all know how much he loves you. “Not, uh, not because we’re breaking up, but because I fucking love having sex with her.” The audience explodes, the loudest they’ve been all night, and Brendon shoots a wink right at you. He sings the beginning of the song, and you watch with pride. “Oh shit, you’re grabbing my hips, drenching my cock, now I remember why we feel in love…” Brendon sings next, maintaining steady eye contact with you. Well those aren’t the words. The entire arena shrieks in elation, completely drowning out the next twenty seconds of the song. A girl in the front row begs Brendon to have her babies.

You grin. As much as they want him, he’s all yours.

“Oh shit, you’re getting me hard, making me come…” He brings his left hand down to his thigh, pressing quickly and drawing even more attention to his perfect cock. You need him. The crowd is going insane, and Brendon is feeding off of their energy. You scream right along with them. Brendon shoots another suggestive look at you.

He loves to make you scream.

•••

“Inside me, now,” you plead when Brendon finally retreats offstage. You don’t care about everyone milling around him.

“Yes,” he pants, “I need you.”

You both make a bee-line to the showers, which are blessedly empty. Brendon strips, slips on the shower shoes you brought for him, and gets under the spray. You lean against the wall, scanning his body with your eyes. God, he’s so hard. “Bren, you wanna touch yourself?” you offer.

He shakes his head. “Just want your pussy on me as soon as possible.” He finishes showering, and you hand him a towel to wrap around his waist. He has to press cock against his stomach again to keep him from completely tenting the towel. He presses you against the wall, and brings his lips down to yours. “My dressing room?”

“I thought you’d never ask.”

You run to Brendon’s dressing room, both of you giggling like teenagers even though you’re hardly getting away with anything. As soon as you’re in the relative privacy of the locked room, you cling to each other, devouring each other’s mouths roughly as he peels off your clothes. “How do you want my cock, baby?” Brendon asks.

“Hard. From behind.” You walk to the vanity, which is taller than usual, and you bend over it. You brace yourself against the surface. You see him shed his towel and approach you in the mirror. You spread your legs wider in anticipation. He presses against your entrance, and you gasp, moving your hips back against him to try to take more of him in. “Bren,” you whine, “fuck me.”

He thrusts forward to fill you, every throbbing inch making you moan. He moves until his hips are flush against your ass.

“Oh, fuck that’s so satisfying,” you say.

“So tight. So wet,” Brendon chokes out. He grabs your hips hard, giving him even better leverage. You love the feeling of his fingers digging into your skin. “Do you feel good

“Incredible,” you pant. “Your cock is the perfect size. Fills me just right. And so thick. I’m so stretched.” You admire him in the mirror. His hair is a mess, and he’s flushed from his neck down. He’s pouring all of his post-show adrenaline into fucking you hard and fast. “You’re beautiful, Brendon.”

“You’re the beautiful one. And you look especially good taking my cock. Your eyes are all wild and desperate, and your mouth is so pretty when it falls open to moan my name,” he gasps, and you blush despite yourself. You duck your head down. “Baby, let me compliment my beautiful wife,” Brendon says.

You tilt your head back up, so he can look at you. “Fine. Thank you, Bren.” Brendon kisses your neck in appreciation. Your cunt squeezes around him rapidly, and Brendon shuts his eyes in bliss as his head tips back. “Bren, keep your eyes open, baby, you have such beautiful eyes,” you request.

Brendon slows slightly as he forces his eyes open, exhaling hard through his nose. He takes a second before resuming his practically bruising speed.

“Good boy, show me how much you missed me.”

Brendon grins. “You love it like this, don’t you, baby? Rough and messy.” He shifts the angle of his hips to hit your g-spot, and your knees buckle.

“Fuck. You know I do. Love your cock however I can get it though,” you answer. “I hate to be apart from you, but I love coming back together. You feel so big.”

“And you’re so much more sensitive too. You’re squeezing my cock like crazy.” He reaches around you to rub your clit.

“Fuck me harder, Brendon. Faster. Let me come,” you beg.

Brendon moans. “Come on my cock, baby.”

You cry out in ecstasy and collapse forward onto the vanity. “You make me come so hard, Brendon,” you shriek.

Brendon chuckles. “Yeah, people definitely heard that, love.” He pulls out of you, and you turn around to pepper his face with kisses.

“I don’t care,” you giggle. “How do you want to come?” you ask him. “You’ve been a good boy, you can come however you want.”

“On your knees please, babe, wanna come in your mouth.”

You drop to your knees eagerly, suckling his tip. Brendon starts to jerk himself off, but you swat his hand away, replacing it with your own. Your own slickness aids you as you jack him.

“Baby, gonna come,” he warns before hot come floods your mouth. You swallow him eagerly while he moans, grasping your hair.

Brendon helps you to your feet, and you both collapse on the couch intertwined. “You’re incredible,” Brendon marvels.

“So I’ve been told,” you giggle, tracing down his arm.

The band barges into the dressing room, and you both groan. “You’re ruining our afterglow,” you whine.

Nicole rolls her eyes. “C’mon, we’re going to an afterparty at some label guy’s mansion. Get up. You can fuck at home.”

Zack nods. “Yes please, you two need to learn how to behave and keep your hands to yourselves. A night of illegal drugs will be good for you.”

You smirk, turning to Brendon. “Hey Brendon?”

“Yes, love?”

“Do you happen to know how many bedrooms this mansion has?”

[lolita-lollipop]

What would happen if one day yandere kirishima (platonic) snaps like the reader is screaming how much they hate him and he breaks maybe he just starts yelling and screaming and after would punish the reader you don’t have to but if ya can love ya work bai

*unedited

(Scenario)

YANDERE PLATONIC KIRISHIMA X READER

“DONT TOUCH ME! GET BACK YOU PSYCHO! I . DONT. WANT. TO. BE. HERE, I HATE YOU I HATE YOU I HATE YOU” you screamed at him, you were over it completely today, first he had shoved you in this uncomfortable dress that you’ve been tugging at all day, than he had tried to give you a purée as your lunch, fucking puréed carrots and pineapple. You screamed and cried until he litterally force fed you the gross stuff. Later in the day, you were looking out the window at the pretty orange and purple sunset, he had closed the blinds and told you that the outside wasn’t a place you should be thinking about, that set you off, wa sit so bad to be staring at a bunch of clouds?

Kirishima was at the end of his line, all day you’d been fussy with him, all months ctailly, talking about how much you wanted to just abandon him. He was so over it, not you, just this new attitude, the screaming, the constant crying, he felt like he was scolding you more of the time then he was smiling at you, and you never showed him that pretty little smile of yours anymore. He was just over it. And so he snapped.

“YOU REALLY THINK YOU COULD LASTA. DAY OUT THERE LITTLE GIRL?! THEY WOULD TEAR YOU APART! YOU DONT BELONG OUT THERE, YOU HEAR ME? YOU. DONT. BELONG. IM JUST TRYING TO PROTECT YOU, JUST ACCEPT IT!” He yelled back, grabbing hold of your hand, you continued screaming and dragging your feet against the plush carpet as he dragged you off down the different hallways. Screaming at him to “let you go”, pure panic coursed through your veins as he pulled open a door, revealing a pitch black room, no light seeped in there from the hallway, he didn’t speak anymore to you, just shoving you in there and turning on the lights, locking the door from the outside so you couldn’t just open it anytime.

“GET ME OUT OF HERE, YOU CANT DO THIS TO ME, DONT LEAVE ME IN HERE, YOU CANT JUST- oh, oh my god” you muttered in bewilderment and fear, you thought he was just gonna leave you in the dark, but this- oh this is much worse. You almost vomited just seeing it. Along the wall, were dead bodies, not jsut any dead bodies, but ones of your friends, or your old teachers, or just people you knew in the past. All long dead, hanging from white ropes attached to the ceiling. You stared at them, backing up to the door as far as you could… you knew these people, they were dead, he killed them, because of you… oh my god you killed them.

You screamed a blood curdling scream, trying your hardest to get the door open, kicking, punching, screaming for him to come get you, but nothing worked: you could feel their cold, dead eyes on you as you screamed and squirmed. You knew he wouldn’t physically hurt you; he’d said so himself, but this- oh this, you would rather be beaten than hevaveto sit there and stare at them. And so, you curled up on the door, whimpers leaving your lips, you covered your eyes, and sat there, for a long, long time.

———

When kirishima opened the door to find you passed out in a puddle if your own vomit, curled in a fetal position at the center of the room, he was worried. He had left you in here for the rest of the night, against his better judgment, he was just so pissed, and be room that out in you, oh you poor little thing. Maybe it was too much, maybe he should’ve just put you to bed, maybe you were gonna hate him even more.

Did he go too far this time?

“Baby? Are you okay? I’m gonna pick you up now, is that alright?@ he cooed, picking you up off the floor, noticing the scratch marks at your wrists and neck, you must of down that to yourself while panicking. I’ve been scared you too much this time, he stared down at the marks, and your rear stricken face in pure worry, uou looked so… dead, like all the life had been sucked out or you.

“Hey, hey honey, can you wake up for me? I need to give you a little bath and then we can go back to sleep in the warm, comfy bed” he spoke gently, shaking your shoulders we’ve so slightly, and with a small gasp, your eyes popped open. Revealing the bloodshot eyes of a little girl who got no sleep at all, and spent the whole night sobbing. Immediately after you woke up, you started whimpering, small sobs released form your throat, and you were clutching at his shirt.

“I- I was so scared, you left me in there with them and I didn’t know why to do, and I thought you were gonna turn me into one of them and- and I couldn’t sleep, y-you promised you W-wouldnt hurt me daddy? Right? You promised?” You questioned through your sobs, the tears soaked his shirt, he didn’t care though, immediately softening his gaze at the name you’d called him, and the evident fear in your voice.

“Yeah I did baby, I’m so sorry I left you I there for so long, daddy was just really mad and he let it get the better of himself, I’m so sorry baby, daddies so sorry. We can go outside as much as you want now, I’m just so, so sorry.” His voice wavered as he spoke. He’s enveloped you in a warm hug, stuffing your face into the crook of his own neck, you screamed and cried, clutching his shirt close to you.

“Please don’t make me go back there…” you sniffled out into his neck, hugging him even tighter. The shirt covered in your own throw up was discarded off your body, and he was kicking open the door to the large bathroom he usually bathed you in. You were just crying, while he was judging you, rubbing your back all the way and trying to get you to slow down, you’re going to get sick again if you keep this up, he doesn’t want that.

“Shhh, honey you aren’t going back in there. Ever. I need you to calm down okay? Deep breaths, just take some deep breaths for me.” He cooed, brushing the hair out of your face, and pulling the rest of your clothing off of your body, it wasn’t long before he had you seated in the warm water, bubbles going up to the top of your chest , your sobs had transcended into whimpers, and you put up no struggle when he started to clean the yuckyness from your skin.

The two of you remained pretty much silent, except for a few cooes from him, and some small sniffles from you, the water was warm and comforting, enough to make you feel safer, you… you were just scared and didn’t know what to do at all, you just wanted to hold onto one of your fluffy little cats and fall asleep, that’s all, you just want to sleep it off. He scrubbed your hair, working out any of the knots that had accumulated over the night.

“I’m so sorry baby, Cmon, let’s get you nice and dry.” He spoke after finishing, pulling you out of the, now lukewarm, water, and immediately wrapping a fluffy towel over your nude body. You noticed how particularly gentle he was being towards you today, high contrast to the previous actions carried out earlier in the week. After a little while, you had been throughly dried off, and dressed in yet another pink, fluffy, pajama set. This time little socks that had small pink bows in them adorned your feet. Usually he would let you dress yourself, he would watch or course, but you were allowed to do it by yourself. He did not give you that courtesy this time, telling you that “he would do it for you” even after your protests sounded.

This continued for the rest of the day, things that you were able to do because he said he “trusts that you’re big enough to do them”, you could no longer do. Not taht you had the inability to do them, just that he wouldnt let you. Like walking, anywhere, or going to sleep by yourself, he put your bed next to his, and he rocks you to sleep on the rocking chair, or coloring, or playing with the cats, or… anything, everything you do is accompanied by him, and he makes them “easier” for you by assisting. It was just… annoying.

But of course, you never said anything, you did not want to get punished again.

You thought it was bad before, you wished you never even lashed out at him, because then you’d still have all of your freedom, or at least what you had before . Of course, you can’t change much of anything, you hate to say it but you actually rely on him at this point. You’re helpless without him, and even if he hurts you

You need him

———————————————————————————————————

Thank you for requesting! Please tell me if I need to change anything!

Have a great day anon! Goodbye!

[sanhaswife]

HI BESTIE, can i request some fatgum fluff? maybe where he comforts us because we are insecure ?

OFC BESTIE, hope you like it :)

FATGUM FLUFF ❊ 

Pairing: FatGum x Reader

Genre: Fluff

~ Everything was great until she got into your head. Thanks to her, you started to doubt yourself and your relationship. You kept wondering if you’re enough to stand by Fatgum’s side; after all, he is a highly recognized hero. He could have any other girl in the world, so why is he still with you?~

Word Count: 2.8k

You and Fatgum have been dating for a few months now; it all began when you started working in the same agency. He claims it was love at first sight, leaving snacks for you here and there, always waiting anxiously to help you with anything. You thought it was cute; of course, it felt good to have someone around giving you all the attention you never thought you would ever get from someone else. Eventually, one day while you both were on patrol, you decided to bring up his actions. 

“You know, I bet you do this with all the girls, right?” Fatgum’s face flushed with red; he stopped in his tracks nervously scratching the back of his head. 

“W-what? Do what? No, I don’t really...you’re just really pretty, you know?” He stuttered. It was amusing to see such a big man acting nervous. 

 God, I want to kiss him so badly, you thought. 

“So...you think I’m pretty?” You questioned as you watched him nod his head, a goofy smile on his face. Your cheeks were growing sore with how hard you’ve been smiling; Fatgum was  attractive in both his regular and skinny form, and his personality was just so sweet it was unbelievable. He was definitely a way better man than any of the other guys you have met before, and it seemed like he really cared about you. 

Grabbing his hand, you looked up at Fatgum, barely meeting his eyes because of the height difference, and squeezed his hand. “Do you like me?” His eyes widened, and he slapped his free hand across his face to hide his rosy cheeks. It made you laugh so hard seeing him stuttering like crazy. “A-a-and if I do? God, Y/N, you’re so pretty, and I always thought that I was never your type. So I never asked you out and just kinda hoped  that you got the message with those stupids cookies and candies I left for you. Yes! Yes, I do like you..very much at that.” 

PRESENT DAY: 

Even though it’s been a few months, your relationship with Fatgum has been...AMAZING. Every day is just filled with so many good moments; it was still crazy to fathom that there was someone who loved you so so much. At the moment, you both shared a small apartment big enough for you two and a small dog you adopted a week ago together. A small Yorkie named Gummy was a present from Fatgum because his little surprises were endless. 

“Gummy! Y/N! Could you please grab Gummy, her little dress? The white one with those flowers we bought yesterday, I think the press would love it.” That’s right, you both were going to attend a banquet for pro-heroes, and Fatgum insisted on bringing Gummy to show her off to his colleagues. Going to the small chest you kept in the living room, you pulled out the white dress and dressed Gummy for the occasion. “Honeybear?” Ah, you loved how he always called you sweet little nicknames. “What do you think?” 

Fatgum was in his skinny form dressed in a classic black and white tuxedo, with his hair slicked back and a cheeky smile on his face; he looked so good you wanted to jump on him right there. “Sexy as always babe, come here.” With Gummy dressed, you stood up and walked over to Fatgum with your arms stretched out. Hugging him, you looked up and stood on your tippytoes to plant a kiss on his cheek, making him then grab your chin and plant a small peck on your lips. After kissing your nose, he looked down at his watch. “You ready? Let me grab you a coat.” Pulling away, he went into the room you shared and dug in the closet for a coat. “Come, Gummy.” You were already dressed in a long white gown with your hair straightened and your makeup perfect; you and Fatgum definitely looked like an elegant pair, making you feel confident. Even your Yorkie matched! 

LATER: 

Eventually, you both had arrived at the banquet, and there was a long red carpet leading to the entrance, both sides filled with reporters, fans, security guards, and cameramen. The day you and Fatgum started dating, he quickly announced his relationship to the public and happily shared photos of you two on his social media. The public’s reaction was supportive, and you both have already received so much love from people. Yet, here and there, there were definitely some people jealous enough to send you all kinds of hate because of your happy, healthy relationship. You never let it get to you though, after all, Fatgum’s love is like no other, and he constantly reassures you whenever you’re feeling down. Those hate comments and posts online would never affect your relationship, and Fatgum would never leave you for someone else like they said...right?

Maybe it was just the nervousness talking, but you couldn’t shake off the negative thoughts that were running around your head until Fatgum opened the car door and offered you his hand. With a smile, you grabbed his hand, and with Gummy wrapped in your other arm, he led you to the red carpet, where all kinds of noise greeted you. Fans were screaming for an autograph, reporters were shouting for a comment, and the security guards struggled to hold everyone back. It made you laugh watching the sea of people crash against the poor guards. You and Fatgum turned left and right, posing together for people to get in some photos before heading inside, where other heroes and their partners greeted you. 

The banquet consisted of heroes gushing about Gummy and your relationship with Fatgum. But since the event was made up of mainly heroes, it was a bit difficult to hold conversations with people for long as everyone eventually moved on to talk to Fatgum or any other hero. So you sat back, relaxing at one of the tables, enjoying some of the food that was available; Fatgum was busy showing off Gummy to his colleagues, so you were doing some alone time. You were sitting there peacefully savoring your meal when a random girl walked up to you, glass full of wine in hand. “Hello, you’re Fatgum’s girlfriend, right? Nice to meet you.” 

“Oh yes! Hello, I’m Y/N...can I help you?” The girl had an unsettling smile that sent shivers down your spine, yet you stayed polite and smiled back. She set down her glass oddly close to you and cocked her head to the side. “I just wanted to come and say hi, maybe even shake your hand?”

That’s odd. You thought, but whatever, nothing bad ever came out of a handshake, right? Just as you were about to bring your hand up, her hand shot out, knocking her glass over, resulting in the wine getting all over your dress. Jumping back in surprise, you looked down at your now ruined dress; the white was stained with red, and it was all over. The girl quickly apologized as she grabbed some napkins and started to try to wipe the wine off. "No, no, it's okay! You don't have to" All of a sudden, she grabbed your hands tightly and dug her nails into your hands. "Ow, what are you-"

"You're a slut." She whispered with a wicked smile on her face. Her comment left you baffled, a stranger...calling you a slut? She didn't let go of your hands, and your eyes were stuck glued onto her's. "You'll never be good enough, you know? All of us were waiting for the right moment to ask him out, yet there you were, wagging your tail at him like a damn dog. You're lucky he agreed to date you because honey..." She looked at your body up and down and, with one hand, reached up to tug at your hair, twirling it around her finger painfully. "These, other little heroes are stupid. You tell them you love them and praise them, and they'll give you everything you want. But, him? He's the one everyone wants. And you're not cut out to stand next to him." 

Her eyes reminded you of a snake as they glowed, her hands snaking up to your cheeks where she slowly moved your head to the side towards Fatgum. It was as if time was going to slow; you were forced to watch as women of all kinds surrounded him. Some were gushing over your dog, but many were talking to Fatgum, most with their hands touching his shoulders or messing with his hair. A gross feeling of jealousy burned over you as you watched him, not pushing anyone off or shying away from their touches. The girl's whispers were not of any help at all. 

"See? They're so much more prettier than you and fit his image better." It was like her voice was starting to echo in your head, and you began to feel dizzy. Your body refused to move as if it was under a spell, and you felt tears rushing to your eyes. She laughed in your ear before pulling away, your body suddenly feeling like a weight has been lifted. She crossed her arms and snickered before looking over at Fatgum. "You might want to go change your dress; if anyone sees you like that, just imagine what the press would say." Looking back over to you, she continued, "I can see it now... Fatgum's girlfriend makes a fool of herself at the pro-heroes banquet. And you know those reporters love a juicy story. 

"Why are you doing this? I don't even know you." You cried; it was humiliating enough to be standing there with a ruined dress and gross emotions washed over you. You watched as the girl shrugged and turned her back on you. "You're ugly, you're fat, your hair is a gross color, the way you smile is disgusting... shall I go on?" Taking your silence as an answer, she looked back to wink at you before heading her way to Fatgum. 

Feeling violated and humiliated, you grabbed your coat that was draped on a chair and rushed to the bathroom. Running down the hall, you found a bathroom nearby and checking every stall before locking the door to be alone. Putting your back against the door, you struggled to catch your breath before sliding down the door, your hands covering your mouth to try to muffle the sobs that escaped your lips. 

So many thoughts were racing your mind, trying to process everything that strange woman had said. Am I not enough? Why didn't he push those girls away, knowing I'm sitting right there? Why? Why? Why?

You brought your knees to your chest and hugged yourself in an attempt to control your shaking body. You stayed that way for almost fifteen minutes before you slowly stood up and headed to the mirror. Your eyes were red from crying so hard; your mascara stained down your cheeks and your nose red. Your hair was messy from running, and the stain on your dress only seemed darker now. Sniffling, you quickly cleaned yourself up the best you could and wrapped yourself up in the coat you grabbed. Getting your phone from the coat's pocket, you left Fatgum a message telling him you were feeling sick and headed outside. You had to take another entrance in order to avoid the press and fans, waiting outside at the curb for a taxi. 

At home, the second you closed the front door and made your way into your room to change, the sobs made their way back up your throat. While crying your eyes out once again, you quickly stripped off your dress and changed into pajamas. The crying didn't stop even while wiping the makeup off your face or brushing the knots out of your hair before going to bed. Shutting off your phone, you wrapped yourself up in the blankets and eventually cried yourself to sleep. 

It was 2 AM when Fatgum finally arrived home. He had a sad expression on his face as he shut the front down and let Gummy down to let her roam around. In the middle of conversing with all kinds of people, he had checked his phone, shocked that you had gone home without telling him in person. Worried, he rushed outside for privacy and called spammed your phone with a hundred texts and a hundred calls, all of which you didn't answer. 

"Y/N? Honeybear?" He slowly opened the door to the room you shared and sighed when he saw you sleeping in the bed, the quilt and sheets messy and wrapped around you. Stepping into the room, he slowly looked around and bent down to pick up your stained dress. He inspected the stain and folded it up with a pained expression before setting it down on the drawer near the bed. He was worried after calling and texting you; it took him forever to finally leave the banquet because more and more heroes wanted to strike up a conversation with him. Sadly, he changed out of this tuxedo and changed into the PJs. He said nothing as he cleaned up the room and then carefully took out some wipes before slowly making his way to you. 

Leaning over, he carefully moved you to face him and winced seeing your red tear-stained face. "Y/N..." He whispered as he began to wipe away your tears. "Honeybear...what happened?"

You woke up to Fatgum kissing your cheeks; looking up at him, he smiled softly, but it only made you turn your back towards him, covering your face with the sheets. "I don't want to talk about it, Gum." You were exhausted from crying so much, and you didn't want Fatgum to see you in such a sorry state, but he only leaned over more to grab the sheets and gently pulled them off to reveal your face. 

Cupping your cheeks, he turned you to face him again and he began to smother you in kisses all over your face. "Gum-" You wanted to be angry. At yourself, at him, and those girls. But his butterfly kisses were so sweet they made you melt into a laughing mess, which made him smile cheerfully. Giving you one last kiss on your lips, he looked down at you, unsure how to start. "What...what happened tonight, Y/N?"

You sighed, sitting up. You scooted over and made space for Fatgum to sit before sharing what happened at the banquet. Listening to you go on and fighting back your tears, he held back from going rabid. His hands were shaking from anger as he replayed your words over and over again in your head. 

"It was a terrible feeling, s-she made me feel so disgusted with myself. Gum I-...before this, I never let my insecurities get the best of me, but she-" Your chest was heaving with sobs as you struggled to find the words to explain what you felt. You felt gross, broken down...ugly. But it stopped when Fatgum gently grabbed your hands with a sad smile, "And did you believe her?"

"I-...well..." You struggled to continue. What happened to the confidence you had? What happened to never listening to strangers? To haters? ...What happened to believing in the ones you love? You rested your head on his shoulders as you sighed. "I just...I don't know how to feel right now. Gum, it was like she was getting in my head." 

He nodded, he wasn't even able to comprehend what you went through, but he wanted you to understand that you were enough. That you were perfect, all your flaws and insecurities? He loved them all. Your goofy smile in the morning, your scent, the way you jump at scary movies, the way you gush at baby clothes, and more. He loved it all. Never in a million years would he ever leave such a perfect person for someone else. And he told you that, holding your hands, rubbing them with his thumbs. 

That night you and Fatgum talked a lot. About what happened, about how you felt, and about how much he loved you. He was gentle, trying to comfort you slowly as not to make you feel rushed or panicked. Every time you squeezed his hand, he went to work smothering you in cheeks before you could continue with your conversation. 

Eventually, everything was out. Now, you both were sitting in comfortable silence, holding hands. You were grateful to have such a patient, gentle, loving man by your side who truly made you feel loved. Thank god I convinced him not to hunt that girl down though, that would be on the news right away. You thought with a small laugh, even though what that strange woman said hurt you deeply, thanks to her words, you and Fatgum were closer than ever before. 

"Let's go shower?" Fatgum questioned with a little wink. His large hands moving away from yours to slowly rub your thighs, making you twitch in anticipation. Turning your body to wrap your arms to hang off his neck, you gave him a deep kiss and pulled away with a smile. "Just don't forget that we have work tomorrow." 

[jayankles]

The Culmination: Endgame

Pairing: Sebastian Stan x Reader

Word Count: 2362

Summary: Y/N doesn’t feel so good and it’s not like her to not answer the phone to Sebastian. He was right to send over Josie, Y/N’s friend, over to find out what’s wrong.

Warnings: Angst, Implied Smut, Fluff

Written for: @anyfandomangstbingo​ | @anyfandomfluffbingo​ | @anyfandomgoesbingo​ 

Squares Filled:  Sick fic | first time | “I really don’t like doing this over the phone”

A/N - Blake Lively is not a representation of the reader; it’s just for the dress. And the other beautiful woman is exactly who I pictured for Josie.

Feedback is gold and appreciated

Of course, you were sick today. The day that Sebastian had told you that he was to take a day at the gym then spend it with Don. You knew that when you woke up this morning it wasn’t going to be a good day, the cold sheets a little foreshadowing of how your day would have gone. The little guttural feeling you had punching you in the gut right now, it had you on the floor, bent over the toilet seat with your head in the bowl.

You felt awful. Unable to move, unless it was your throat spasming. Definitely the worst day so far, you couldn’t move and when you finally were able to move at all you felt like a robot. Not a good look.

You decided that it was time to head back to bed, none of your food would stay down so you made yourself a bottle of water and stumbled into bed with a bucket in your hand, ready to put the bucket on the floor beside your bed.

Pulling at the covers, you curled up under them and took a swig of your drink. Tears rolled down your face as you felt the pain grow stronger, you rubbed your stomach in hopes it would make you feel better; it didn’t.

All you could do was pray that you would fall asleep to not feel this pain anymore. Sleep evaded you. The pain is all there is that you feel. You threw up another three times before you finally succumbed to the pleasures of sleep. Rattling of keys had been the object that had drawn you out of your few moments of slumber. You didn’t dare move though, there was no point, you couldn’t move anyway.

“Y/N! Y/N, where are you?” It took you a minute to realise that it was your friend, Josie, shouting your name in hopes of finding you. “Y/N, Whe- There you are. What are you still doing in bed? Oh...”

She looked as if she sighed out a breath of relief before she retracted, covering her mouth and nose with her hand. Inhaling the stench of the room, she quickly ran out of there, returning with air freshener, spraying it around you to make her feel better.

“You need a bath, babe. Stay here and I’ll run you one. Of course you’re going to stay here, you poor thing.” Josie rambled, you stopped her before she could go on for another hour.

“Jo, pour some lavender in there. Love you.”

Freshly out of the bath after thirty minutes, you were wrapped up in Sebastian’s bathrobe, a reminder that he was home as it still smelt like him. “I hate feeling like this. It sucks. But I feel better already.”

Josie softly smiled at you, pity in her eyes. “Must have been that nap you took but I know it sucks. Could you imagine Seb with this kinda illness, though? It would be 100% worse just because it’s man flu.”

“Thank you for being here.” You said, taking a seat on the couch. “What are you doing here anyway?”

“Seb called, said he tried texting and video chatting you but you wouldn’t pick up. I guess he was right to have me come over and check on you.”

“He’s such a cutie.” You groaned as you walked, the bath only slightly relieving some of the pain.

“I know. It makes me wanna barf… not like you, though. That shit is nasty, no, thank you, ma’am.” She tutted through a pinched nose, reminding of just how gross you felt and smelt not even a mere hour ago.

“You’re a pleasure as always, Jo. Always so kind to me, when I feel like shit. Thank you.”

She shrugged knowingly, a smirk on her face as she reached forward for the remote, finding a music channel and turning it down a little so it faded into the background becoming nothing but white noise. “So do you know what brought this on? Eat some bad food?”

“I don’t think so, otherwise Seb would feel the same way right?”

“Well you aren’t pooping as well as being sick so this isn’t a viral or bacterial thing. You’re not burning up? No severe migraines?” She asked and you only had one answer.

“Nope. And no, my appendix hasn’t burst because I’ve already had it out.” You said, becoming tired again as you let out a yawn.

“Well, I think I might need to slip out for a little bit.”

“Why? Where are you going? I thought you were going to take care of me?”

“I am. I’m just gonna head to the store and grab you some stuff to make tomato soup. I’ll be twenty minutes tops.” Josie was true to her word, never taking more than the twenty minutes she promised. Putting the bag of groceries on the counter, Josie pulls out the contents, revealing the ingredients she offered to get for you but you could tell that there was something else in the bag.

“What’s in there?”

Josie was fidgety, her fingers twiddling together. “I need you to keep an open mind because I think I know why you’re grossly throwing up.”

“Hit me. I wanna know how I can feel better right now.”

“It’s a good thing that you’re sitting down because…” She paused, making a face that she knew you weren’t going to like. “Because I think you’re pregnant.” her face unchanging as she pulled out the pregnancy test.

Then it hit you. 

No.No.No. Fuck!

Hands dancing.

Tongues twining.

Passion blooming.

It was everything you could have asked for when he was away but now that Sebastian was back, you couldn’t keep your hands off of him. You covered every area of the apartment possible.

Oh crap.

“Fuck!”

“Yes you did.” Josie laughed at her own joke, the reaction not quite the same on your end.

“Oh god, Sebastian is going to kill me. He’s never going to want to talk to me. Why was I so stupid? Oh, I’m never gonna hear from him again. I’ll be kicked out. I’ll be a single mother. I’m gonna have to live with you and if I have this baby, you’re gonna hate me, then you’re gonna kick me out too. ”

Josie scoffed at you, helping you scurf back your hair away from your face, making you look into her wide eyes. “First of all, chill. I gotchu, you know I gotchu forever. Sebastian isn’t like that, but if he is you will never see him again and that is a promise and maybe a little bit of a threat. He’ll deserve it if he hurts you so. Just be my alibi if anything ever happens. Just go take the test. Negative? You’re just sick. Positive? You call Sebastian and you talk to him like an adult.”

“Why are you always right? Don’t you ever get sick of it?” You huffed before you smiled at her, squeezing at her hand after taking the small handful of the pregnancy test boxes back to the bathroom.

Five minutes passed and you were holding the peed on sticks in your hand, four out of five of them being positive. “I think I need to call Sebastian, and a doctor.”

After making an appointment with the doctor, you took a deep breath and pressed the button to call Sebastian. He picks up the call pretty quickly and you are not surprised.

“Y/N! Finally! Are you okay? What happened?”

“Hey bubba. I’m fine, just a little sickness. But I really don’t like doing this over the phone. When are you coming home. We need to talk.”

Two months later.

It was the night of the premiere of Avengers: Endgame and you couldn’t be more thrilled for the success that the Marvel Franchise had. It was 10 years of absolute lovable craziness. Thank you, Stan Lee.

You had no idea that you would be here on the aptly coloured, purple carpet with Sebastian after all you would have thought that you would still be with him after the whole pregnancy fiasco but the two of you were able to talk things through. Things were thrown, voices were raised, and tears were shed but still after all of that, Sebastian made the executive decision to calm the two of you down. The stress was no good for anyone at this point. You were both going to be parents; it’s what was established.

The two of you walked hand in hand, palms sweating as the cameras flashed, and photographers called out to each and every star that was involved in the production of Endgame. The culmination of the whole franchise was just so surreal, the fact that it was ending with a bang both made you swell with pride but it also made you a tad emotional because this collection of amazing characters wouldn’t continue but the legacy they left would. And that was what mattered.

“Sebastian! Y/N! Over here!” You heard from one of the interviewers, looking beautiful in her outfit, Sebastian rubbed his thumb across your knuckles, you were going to be okay. He was right there with you and you had done this a few times before. He was there for you.

“Hi.” “Hello. You and Sebastian answered at the same time, making the interviewer laugh.

“Wait, I remember you. I bought you a soup in a thermos and Tom gave you his jacket. I see we got lucky with good weather today, huh?” You said, smiling at her.

“Yes. You remember me?!” The woman turned to the camera looking right into the lens of it. “Guys, I’m fangirling so hard right now. Ah!”

Once the woman got her fangirling out of the way, she moved onto the interview, trying to get any information that she could before the movie premiered. Sebastian took over that one, telling her that there was no way that they were allowed to say anything about the movie other than he was dust.

“Now we’ve got that movie non gossip out of the way. Are you okay to talk freely about your pregnancy?”

You looked to Sebastian, it was his decision just as much as it was yours, you knew that Sebastian wanted to keep his private life separate from his professional acting career. “It’s okay, honey. Go ahead.”

“I think you’re good to go.”

“Thank you. I must say that you do look stunning in that dress.” She gushed, you thanked her, hiding your face a little. You loved this dress, the nude under layer and the little white and purple flowers that scattered across your dress, your bump barely visible through your dress.

“How far along are you?”

“Well, we’re in the first week of the second trimester. So I’m a little more confident when telling you that.”

“That’s amazing. Was the pregnancy planned at all?”

You made a face, sucking in a little air, looking to Sebastian for a little light to be shed on the situation. “Not at all. It was Y/N’s friend that actually realised that her morning sickness wasn’t her having the flu. She felt absolutely awful that morning, it was enough to know that it was bad when I tried to call her and I didn’t get an answer.

“We had our issues, you know, we didn’t know what to do, we're new at this. But I think that it’s important to know that you don’t abandon your family.” Sebastian softly smiled at you, subconsciously putting a hand on your slowly growing stomach. “I guess that is what this franchise is about though, right? It’s about family and- and looking out for one another. Everybody’s got a somebody here and I love that.”

“And Thanos, fucks it all up and snaps his goddamn fingers.” The three of you and the cameraman began to laugh at your little outburst about the mad, purple titan. “God, I can’t wait for the premiere tonight but I’m scared. For everybody. But especially for me, you know, I’m an emotional person anyway, add a hormonal woman to the mix and a whole lot of angst. Get my ice cream and tissues ready, because I’m coming for you, Thanos.”

“I heard that!”

“Love you, Josh. For the record, Josh is a nice guy, the character he plays is a big old sack of balls and I have no idea how he does it so convincingly.” Lovingly, you made eyes at Seb. “But it’s just like my Sebastian, a dark hydra assassin but in reality he’s a big ball of sunshine and goofiness. And I love him for it.”

“This is- this is what gets me.” The interviewer leaned in a little as Sebastian’s voice dropped to a slight whisper. “I know that she is going to be the best mom for our child because Y/N loves everything and everyone and that is a great quality to have but she’s also caring and matches my goofy side but her sass outweighs mine of course, no one can beat that.”

“Aww, he’s making me cry already. Seb,” you whined. “My makeup.”

“Well that's it folks.” The woman spoke, telling the audience that this was one of the cutest interviews that she had ever taken, that she could die happy and quickly saying congratulations before the two of you were whisked away to walk the carpet again and pose for pictures.

“You’re way too good to me, you know that right?” You said to Seb as you admired the sky blue suit he was wearing over his plain white tee. “I never even got to tell them that this baby will have the hottest dad in the world as well as the sweetest man. Thank you for being my baby daddy.”

Unbeknownst to you, the cameras had caught every single moment the two of you shared. The kisses you shared together, were now shared with the world, all over social media. At this point you didn’t care, you only cared about the man in front of you and the baby growing in your stomach. And this god damn movie!

Feedback is gold and appreciated

[eliemo]

Purple Skirt

Summary: Patton and Logan look amazing in their skirts, but Virgil knows he doesn’t get the same freedom when it comes to clothing. 

TWs: past abuse, past gaslighting, self esteem issues

Notes: Thank you to @self-taught-mess​ for giving me the idea to make the skirts angsty. Sympathetic everyone. Taglist at the end

Masterpost

The first time he’d been able to even look at a skirt without wanting to throw up was when Patton had come bouncing down the stairs, looking absolutely delighted in his new suspenders skirt, and Virgil had smiled along with him without even thinking about the memories. 

He was so happy and radiant and god Virgil wished he could do the same. The idea of wearing a skirt around the mindscape, never giving it a second thought, allowing himself to be comfortable and confident like Patton could be was...amazing. 

Logan had donned a skirt a couple weeks later, wearing it as casually as any other outfit, and he’d barely batted an eye when they had all jumped up to compliment him. 

They were all so...comfortable with it. And of course they were, they were allowed to be. They deserved to be. Everyone was, except Virgil. He knew that. 

Which is why he had no idea what had possessed him to start wearing a skirt in the privacy of his own room. 

It was a horrible idea, and his hands started shaking every time he shut his door and put on the dark purple skirt, but...but he liked it. He liked wearing skirts, and the light side’s outfits had reminded him of that. 

He’d tried to wear skirts a few years ago, but the Others had very quickly shut that down, drilling into his brain how selfish and horrible it was to even consider outfits like that an option. 

Anyone else could wear a skirt. Anyone else could wear whatever they wanted. But Virgil didn’t have that right. Virgil was disgusting and useless, and he didn’t deserve that comfort. 

Besides, they looked horrible on him. He didn’t need to look any more pathetic than he already was. He’d been mocked and beaten and screamed at for forcing other people to see him like that, for thinking for a second that it had been remotely acceptable. They’d made themselves very clear, and they hadn’t stopped until Virgil had understood. Anxiety didn’t get to wear skirts. 

Now...now he knew he wouldn’t be beaten if he was caught in a skirt. He knew by now not to assume his family would hurt him, especially not over something so small. 

But he’d still be told off. He knew he wasn’t supposed to be wearing something like this, knew it was disgusting of him to even try. Patton and Logan looked amazing but Virgil was...well, Virgil. 

Still, after seeing Logan and Patton’s skirts he hadn’t been able to help himself. He was careful about it, only changing once a week at most with his door locked, always when he was sure he’d have time to himself where no one would come looking. 

The first few times, he couldn’t look at himself in the mirror, taunts, hate, and repulsion echoing in his head every second the skirt was on. He hadn’t been able to keep it on for more than five minutes. 

But recently, he’d started to feel a bit more comfortable. He knew it wasn’t ok, knew better than to risk letting anyone see him, but...with no one around to tell him how disgusting he looked, he allowed himself a few glances in the mirror, and let himself keep it on for longer. 

It was comforting, freeing, and...maybe if it was anyone else, it might actually look good. 

He should have known better than to drop his guard like that.

Virgil had put his skirt on about half an hour ago, closing himself off in his room until dinner, his usual ripped jeans laid out for him to quickly slip on before heading back downstairs. 

He’d gotten too comfortable- too relaxed, lounging on his bed with his music playing and his eyes slipped shut and his head went foggy, losing track of time completely.  

“You in there, Hot Topic?” Roman’s call and gentle knocking didn’t startle Virgil like it usually would, and he groggily lifted his head from the pillow, slipping off his headphones. “Can I come in?” 

Virgil rubbed sleep from his eyes, pushed himself up on the bed, and waved a hand to unlock his door without a second thought. 

He then immediately realized his mistake as soon as the handle started to turn. Shit shit shit--

He scrambled off the bed, suddenly wide awake as his feet hit the carpeted floor, but he didn’t have a chance to get anywhere to hide before Roman was standing in the doorway, eyes going wide. 

For a split second, Virgil let himself be overtaken by dangerous, desperate hope. The light sides had pleasantly surprised him so many times already- it was ok for him to make mistakes, it was fine if he dropped something or made a loud noise or talked too much- so maybe...maybe this was ok too? 

But then Roman opened his mouth, and old instinct and far too familiar fear took over. 

“Sorry,” Virgil blurted as he shrank back, wrapping his arms around himself. “I didn’t...s-sorry, I’m sorry I didn’t mean to--”

“Wait, what?” Roman stepped closer, and Virgil internally cursed himself for flinching. This wasn’t like last time, this wasn’t like last time. “Virgil. Why’re you sorry?” 

He shrugged, suddenly hyper aware of the way the plaid skirt hugged his waist, draping just above the knee to show off the black and white striped stockings. He found himself absently tugging at the end of the material. 

“I...I’m not--” he cut himself off when his voice grew unsteady, swallowing past the lump in his throat. “I’m not supposed to, but I- I wasn’t going to leave the room. I know I- that I can’t--” 

“Oh, Virgil of course you can.” Roman’s voice was soft, always so genuine, and this time Virgil didn’t flinch back when the Prince took another step. “You look amazing.”

Virgil’s shoulders hunched on instinct, and he scrambled to figure out if that was sarcasm in the Prince’s tone, because he’d been expecting something far more hurtful. 

“I...you don’t have to, I was just- it was stupid. I- I forgot I was wearing it, I’m sorry.” 

“There’s nothing to be sorry for,” Roman said, but his smile suddenly dropped. “Oh, Stormcloud you’re shaking.” 

Oh. Virgil hadn’t even realized how bad he’d started trembling, too scared to meet Roman’s eyes despite them radiating nothing but kindness. 

“Hey.” The Prince held out his hands, and Virgil risked a cautious glance up from the floor. “Come here?” 

Virgil let his shoulders drop, but his defenses were still raised, always waiting for the other shoe to drop, always expecting some kind of trap or trick. He still couldn’t help it. 

But he let himself close the distance between them and fall into Roman’s chest, letting out a shuddering breath as strong arms wrapped around him, gentle but secure. 

“You can wear a skirt, Virgil,” Roman said. “Did you...think I would be angry with you?” 

Virgil couldn’t bring himself to speak again just yet. All he was able to manage was a small nod against Roman’s chest. 

“Why?” he asked, voice still soft but Virgil thought there was a hint of something defensive. “I wear skirts all the time. So does Remus. And Patton and Logan have--” 

“I know.” Virgil took another small, trembling breath. “And you- you all look great. Obviously. Everyone can- everyone can wear whatever, I’m not...I just...can’t.” 

Roman pulled back slightly, but Virgil couldn’t meet his gaze. “Why not?” 

“Because I’m...I’m gross, and I shouldn’t...I can’t. Not like you guys, it’s not...it’s not allowed. It’s...probably bad for my influence over Thomas or something.. Plus I, uh- I look horrible in most things anyway, so…”

He trailed off, and his heart sank when he caught a glimpse of the look on Roman’s face. He was watching Virgil intently, head tilted slightly, eyes filled with something sad and...and angry. 

“I’m- I’m sorry.” Shit, he’d been talking too long hadn’t he? He was being annoying and he was still making Roman see him like this and he probably just wanted Virgil to shut up already. “I didn’t mean to ramble, I’m sorry, I’ll change and then--” 

“I’m not upset with you,” Roman said, and Virgil quickly fell silent. “This is...just one more thing they took away from you, isn’t it?” 

Virgil shrugged, back to wrapping his arms around himself like a useless shield. He felt tears spring to the corners of his eyes, face burning hot, and he quickly blinked them away. 

“I guess,” he muttered. “They didn’t really want me to...like myself. It’s still...hard, you know? To get their voices out of my head.” 

He tried not to think about it. He tried to block out the vicious, horrible things that had been said to him every time they’d raised a fist, their words just as powerful as a punch. 

They’d hurt him so bad, and they’d worked so hard to make him hate himself as much as they hated him. 

He wasn’t going to roll over and accept that. Not anymore. He’d get better now that he had people who loved him by his side. It just...god, it was so hard sometimes.  

“I know,” Roman said, and Virgil didn’t think he’d ever heard the Prince sound so grim. “Trust me, Virgil. I know.” 

Virgil didn’t doubt that. He dug his foot into the carpet, doing what he could to remind himself that Roman wasn't upset. The prince wasn’t disgusted by him, he didn’t think he was pathetic, and he wasn’t angry that Virgil was making him look at Anxiety longer than necessary. 

“Yeah, well. Self esteem is overrated.” 

Roman laughed, but he was still staring at Virgil with something sorrowful and uncertain. “Maybe. But if it helps, I think you look absolutely stunning.” 

“What?” Virgil scoffed, even as he was sure his face was bright red by now. “N-no, I...I don’t. Look, I can just change--” 

“Virgil, have you even looked in the mirror?” Roman asked, and Virgil tried not to flinch because those words had been said to him before, just under very different circumstances. 

But Roman was suddenly taking his hands, dragging him (gently, of course) into Virgil’s bathroom, standing in front of the sink and looking in the mirror. It was something he tried to avoid as much as possible, but with the way Princey was beaming at him...for the moment he couldn’t find it in himself to be so apprehensive. 

“How long have you had this?” Roman asked, and at Virgil’s blank stare he quickly gestured to the outfit- an older black hoodie over a white shirt, black and white stockings, and the plaid purple skirt. 

“Uh...I don’t know, it’s just some clothes. The skirt is kinda new, though. I had to make a new one after my old one was…” destroyed, was really the only accurate way to put it. And they hadn’t even waited for him to take it off. Somehow he really doubted that would make Roman feel any better. “Lost. It’s...it’s pretty stupid, I know.” 

“Not at all,” Princey said, and Virgil didn’t know why he couldn’t just give in and believe him. “Just look! You’re beautiful!” 

He seemed so excited, eyes brimming with awe and eagerness, Virgil couldn’t bring himself to protest. Even when he was struck with the familiar urge to avert his gaze as soon as he came face to face with his own reflection. 

It was just...him. Nothing special, nothing particularly good, just plain, dark and brooding Anxiety. But he’d been taught, over and over and over again, to hate every little thing about himself. Just like everyone else already did. 

But that had been a lie, just like nearly everything else he’d been told. The people who mattered didn’t hate him, and they did much more than tolerate his presence. 

He just...didn’t know where to start when it came to liking anything about himself. 

Luckily, Roman already seemed to be two steps ahead of him. 

“You are not disgusting,” he said, completely catching Virgil off guard. “And I swear, if I could I would run my sword through every single person who ever put that thought in your head.” 

“Please don’t.” It came out a whisper, soft and pathetic. They’d had this talk before, countless times, but each time it sent terror shooting through his chest. “Please--” 

“I know. As much as I want to make them suffer...I would never betray your trust by doing something so selfish. It will always be up to you whether or not I go after them.” 

Virgil’s shoulders dropped, relief just as dizzying as the last few times. “Thank you.” 

“But I mean it,” Roman said. “They were so, so wrong. We think you’re wonderful, Virgil. We...we all think you’re amazing. I know you don’t see it, but- but we do. And every day you shine just a little bit brighter.” 

“Princey--” 

“Did you know Patton couldn’t stop crying that first night we found out about what happened to you? He kept it together right until you fell asleep and then he...Logan held him until he exhausted himself. And Lo was...we were all so angry.” 

Virgil couldn’t turn around, instead staring at Roman’s reflection through the mirror. “I...I’m--” 

“This isn’t a guilt thing,” Roman clarified. “I’m saying we didn’t understand. We still don’t. How someone could look at you and not see someone incredible. You’ve been through so much and we’re...I’m honored to get to meet the person you always deserved to be.” 

And, yeah Virgil was definitely going to cry now, fresh tears just replacing the ones he wiped away. But maybe that was ok, because Roman’s eyes were red and watery now too. 

“Back to the point,” Roman said with a sheepish smile, rubbing the back of his neck. “You can wear what you want. Always. My only request is that you don’t outshine me.” 

Virgil snorted, even as uncertainty and apprehension still rested heavy on his chest. “I don’t think you have to worry about that, Princey.” 

“Well, I stand by what I said,” Roman announced, clapping his hands together. “You look stunning. And I’m sure the others will agree. Patton will be thrilled to have another skirt-buddy. Why don’t we head down so you can--” 

“No!” 

Roman had already started for the bathroom door, stopping in his tracks and spinning back around at Virgil’s outburst. He hadn’t meant to raise his voice, but…

But the terror that had hit when Roman had caught him just moments before, the disgust with himself that had just been starting to dissipate a bit...all of it hit full force again at the thought of going downstairs like this. 

He wanted to. He wanted to know he could be comfortable and learn to feel ok again so bad. But he couldn’t. There was no way. 

“Virge--” 

“I can’t.” And now he was going to upset Roman, after the Prince had tried so hard to get Virgil to stop being such a coward. And now he probably was going to be angry- or disappointed at the very least. Virgil wasn’t sure which one was worse. “I’m sorry, sorry it’s just--” 

“Hey, it’s ok,” Roman said, with way more patience than Virgil deserved at this point. “I’m not going to force you out of your comfort zone, Emo. Prince’s honor. We go at your pace, and your pace only.” 

 Virgil stuffed his hands into the hoodie pockets, fighting the urge to pull up his hood. “You’re not, like...mad?” 

“I’m not mad, Virgil,” Roman assured, and smiled. “Take your time. I’ll be here whenever you’re ready.” 

“Ok.” Virgil let out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding, shaky and small, and once again he wondered what he’d done to deserve this much kindness. “Ok. I’m uh, I’m gonna change. I’ll be down for dinner soon.” 

There was no annoyance, no frustration or exasperated eyeroll. Just a nod from Roman and another gentle, understanding smile as the Prince slipped through the door and left him alone again. 

For a moment, standing in his silent bedroom with his black jeans in his hands, Virgil considered keeping the skirt on. 

He wasn’t...he wasn’t a monster. He wasn’t the selfish, horrible, grotesque villain he’d been taught to think he was. 

He had the right to say, do, and wear whatever he wanted. He was just as free to exist and express himself as anyone else in the mindscape. 

It was what his family told him, over and over and over again. And it was what he was trying desperately to begin to believe. 

But he was almost positive that if he tried to step outside right now he’d have a panic attack before he reached the bottom of the stairs. So he took another deep breath, steadied himself, and changed back into his regular jeans and oversized hoodie. 

He wasn’t going to suddenly lose the right to recover if he took his time. There wasn’t a time limit to all of this. And like Roman had said, they’d be there when he was ready.

-- 

It was another few weeks before Roman heard a knock on his door, timid and familiar enough for him to know it was Virgil before he pulled it open with a smile. 

The anxious side was standing in the hall, arms wrapped around his middle as he shifted his weight from foot to foot, shoulders hunched in a defensive stand and...oh. 

He was wearing the outfit Roman hadn’t gotten the chance to see since their talk in his room, complete with the plaid purple skirt that the Prince thought looked absolutely perfect on Virgil. 

“Good afternoon,” Roman said, fighting to sound as nonchalant as possible, all too aware of how big of a deal this was. “You heading downstairs?” 

Virgil took a minute before nodding slowly, chewing incessantly on his lip, still fidgeting in the doorway. 

“Alright,” Roman said, hoping it was at least a little encouraging. “Is there anything I can do to help?” 

He could see Virgil trying to compose himself, recognized the slow, deliberate breaths he was taking in an effort to fight against rising panic, and Roman’s heart throbbed at the watery, scared look in his eyes. 

“Could you…” Virgil trailed off, squeezing his hands into fists. “Could you come with me? Please?” 

Roman softened, and stepped into the hallway. “Of course.” 

It wasn’t until he held out a hand, letting Virgil latch onto him and squeeze as tight as he needed, that he realized just how bad the anxious side was shaking. Just like the first time Roman had seen him in the skirt. 

As nice as it looked, it was a fairly simple outfit. Roman had worn far more extravagant things, and other than excited compliments from Patton, no one really looked twice. 

He couldn’t imagine what the others had done to make Virgil so afraid of being seen in a skirt. 

But this wasn’t the time for that. Roman forcefully pushed his anger back down, and squeezed Virgil’s hand in response. He didn’t stop trembling the entire trip down the hall. 

When they reached the top of the stairs, Patton and Logan’s voices began to filter in from the living room, and Virgil suddenly stopped, breath catching in his throat, looking to Roman with wide, panicked eyes. 

“What...what if they--” 

“Nothing bad will happen to you,” Roman said. “I swear it. But we don’t have to do this today if you aren’t ready. Like I said, we go at your pace.” 

Virgil’s eyes were glued to the stairs, tense and unmoving, clutching Roman’s hand like he thought it would be ripped away at any moment. 

Roman was fully willing to stand here for hours if it meant Virgil would be comfortable, but it only took a few minutes for his breathing to even out slightly, some of the tension in his shoulders coming undone. 

“Ok,” he said softly, probably more to himself than to Roman. “Ok. I’m...I’m good. I’m sorry.”

“No need to be sorry,” Roman promised. “Your pace, Virge. I’m here.” 

They made their way down the steps together, slow and steady, Roman letting Virgil move as fast as he wanted, stopping to take a few seconds to breathe whenever he needed. 

Logan and Patton were lounged on the couch by the time they made it to the living room, the logical side lost to the contents of the open book on his lap. 

Virgil suddenly froze in the doorway, looking up at Roman like he thought the Prince was the only thing standing in between him and certain death. 

And then Patton glanced up at the movement, and Roman couldn’t remember the last time the moral side had smiled so wide. 

“Oh my gosh! Virgil, you look so good!” 

Virgil automatically flinched against Roman’s side as Patton jumped up from the couch, but Roman could see surprise battling with doubt and confusion as he took in Patton’s happiness. 

“I...yeah?” 

And in the middle of it all, a small flicker of hope. 

“Yes!” Patton practically squealed. He rushed over to take Virgil’s hands, and Roman stepped away with one last reassuring smile. “I didn’t know you liked skirts, kiddo! You should have told me!” 

Virgil was searching Patton’s face, probably making sure there wasn’t any hint of hidden disgust in his words, before relaxing ever so slightly. “Yeah, I...wanted to try it, I guess.” 

“You look so pretty!” Patton was bouncing up and down now, Virgil’s hands still in his. “Don’t you think so, Logan?” 

Roman glanced at the logical side still seated on the couch, unsurprised to find a look of pride and quiet understanding.

“He does,” Logan agreed. “The outfit itself is aesthetically pleasing, and the colors suit you very well, Virgil. I am glad you were comfortable enough to try something new.” 

Virgil shrugged, cheeks turning a light shade of red, briefly meeting Roman’s eyes with a small, thankful smile. “It’s...it’s whatever.” 

“We should have a skirt day!” Patton announced suddenly. “Can we have a skirt day?” 

Logan raised an eyebrow. “A...skirt day?” 

“We can all wear our skirts together! Do you think we could get Janus and Remus to join us?” 

Roman chuckled, beyond relieved for the small smile now beginning to overtake Virgil’s features. “I’m sure you could, padre.” 

“Patton, it is simply an article of clothing,” Logan pointed out, completely lost. “Why do we need an entire day dedicated to wearing it?” 

“Because! It’s--” 

Patton was suddenly interrupted by Virgil suddenly wrapping his arms around the moral side, pulling him close in a tight, almost desperate embrace. 

Virgil so rarely was the one to initiate physical contact, as much as he needed it, always terrified of being seen as needy or ungrateful. From what Roman had gathered, Virgil had been told he was too disgusting to be touched in any way other than violent. 

“Oh, kiddo.” Despite his obvious surprise, Patton didn’t hesitate before hugging back. “Can you tell me what’s wrong, honey? Did I upset you?” 

Virgil shook his head, still clutching Patton’s shirt as he pulled back. Roman wanted so badly to rush over and hold him close when he realized Virgil was smiling through his tears, so clearly overwhelmed but so so relieved. 

“No- no, it’s-” he took in a shuddering breath, struggling to get a hold of himself. “I’m...thank you. I just- I love you all so much.” 

And then he was covering his mouth with his hand, crying quietly as Patton gathered him back into his arms, squeezing his eyes shut but relaxing further when the other two sides hurried to join the embrace. 

Roman couldn’t even imagine the weight that had just been lifted from Virgil’s shoulders, how rewarding acceptance without question must have felt. Especially when for him, every step forward was like climbing a mountain. 

He caught Logan sending him a questioning look, but he quickly shook his head. Later. They could talk it out later. Right now…

Right now Virgil just needed the reassurance. And Roman knew they were all more than happy to remind him they would never get tired of giving it to him. 

Taglist: @self-taught-mess @itawalrus @mygenderisidiot @a-very-gay-raccoon @dawnfire7 @cr4zyart @ray-does-stuff @whydoifeeltheneedtoorganizestuff @bunny222  @the-blue-recluse @bisexualdisaster106 @basilthefourth @snowtrashowl @thefingergunsgirl @trashtm @stubbornness-and-spite @kieraelieson @alias290 @darkch1ld @craz-ewaters @damy-02 @frogdog145 @gattonero17 @madamedraconis @stoicpanther @@love-to-read02 @that-spider-fan-over-there @thatoneloudowl @rich-flower-17 @demigodbookdragon @i-gobymanynames @wyvern-tales @spoopyseason66 @gaylotusthatexists @my-life-is-an-artistic-mess @that-one-fander @alias290 @yalltookmyurlideas @theantisocialghost @dark-strange-daughter @joylessnightsky @nova-galexa @luckymasie @stayarmy321 @starsinger @unhygienic-andy-the-anon @deathdarknessdevils @d-rizzle83 @spoonfullofcrofters @sarcasmremovedsoul @bananabread123443 @alpacadraws @nonbinaryemonugget @espepspes @awesome-and-unique-username @starshinemoonglow @honeybonesvirgil @fandertrash24 @tracingstarlight @sanders-fanders @heartwitchhouse @major-disaster-enby @a-poor-anxious-baby @franticfandomfanatic @the3rdpansexualpanda @a-flying-gay @hermitcreature @darkle-elkrad @coaltail121 @i-really-like-dragons @blagi @the-daydreamers-rebellion

[dancingazaleas]

𖨆. 03 / all for us

summary: you’ve been gone for a while and haven’t been replying to any of your texts messages. you’re friends suspect something might be up.

note: the reader has been left alone continuously ever since she has been kidnapped. erwin and levi are the only ones who see her, and it’s usually only for an hour or two. this is because of her reluctance to be around them.

taglist: @voltairelesecond @the-sun-baby @uniquepickle @baelo80

word count: +3.0k

warnings/notes: cursing, vomiting, your friends are looking for you

PIECK knew something was up whenever bertholdt said you weren't answering his texts and hadn't been showing up to work before you even went on vacation. she knew you were on vacation and that you were pissed with her, but even so you never ignored texts from bertholdt.

her suspicions only rose whenever porco and reiner told her the same thing, that you'd suddenly gone awol on the two of them out of nowhere.

they were confirmed when zeke came back into town and said the same thing.

she sits on her couch, shoulders shaking as she cries with porco's arms wrapped around her. reiner, bert, zeke, and annie, who reiner and bert brought for some reason, stare at her in complete worry.

you went awol just this sunday, telling each and everyone of them that you were going on vacation and wouldn't be in town for a little while. bertholdt hadn't seen you at work for almost three weeks now, two and a half of them after your sudden vacation.

"she can't be on vacation," pieck sobs, "she always answers your guys' texts. no matter what!"

"maybe she's just in a different country? she might just not be able to get reception," porco seems unsure as he says this.

"she can't be. she would've told me, pieck, or even bertholdt. god, she would've told all of us," zeke's head is in his hands while his teeth grind together.

"okay, so where would she be if she were still in paradis," annie speaks up while gesturing her arm in a circle.

"who fucking knows," reiner sighs, "when'd you last see her, babe?"

"at work before she stopped showing up. she said she was gonna get coffee at that one café she loves going to. other than that, she didn't say anything about plans or going out with anybody," bertholdt is laced with confusion and his arms are crossed.

"we got into a bad fight that night," pieck sniffles, "she left the house a few hours later, i just thought she was going to stay with one of you guys or yelena."

"what'd you even argue about?"

she grips at her hair with tears rushing down her face, "i can't even remember. it was probably so petty and stupid. the only thing i remember is her telling me that she hated me and me telling her that she was a fuck up."

"i'm so sorry, pieck," porco squeezes her shaky form tight to his chest.

"wait," zeke's standing up abruptly and pointing at bertholdt, "she went where?!"

"oh my god, she went to café scout!!! maybe the workers heard something," reiner perks up along with everyone else.

"holy shit, maybe that one girl is there!! she probably saw something," porco smiles.

"louise! she definitely knows (name)! she probably saw something! let's go," pieck jumps off of the couch and stumbles towards the front door of her house.

the rest of them follow after, all deciding that bertholdt's van, he's usually the designated driver, is the car they'll get into. they all yell at a fumbling bertholdt to hurry up and unlock the car as they stand at the car. he does so while screaming, jumping into the driver's seat and starting the ignition. reiner's jumping in the passenger seat and annie's in the first row of seats behind bert.

before porco can even close the door behind him, bertholdt is driving off towards the café. porco is screaming along with pieck as they're thrown around the van due to their lack of seatbelts and the both of them standing to sit in their seat. their screaming has everyone else screaming as bert speeds up the car despite the oncoming speed bump. bertholdt and reiner hit their heads against the roof of the car, a loud bang resonating throughout the vehicle. pieck and porco's back hit the roof as well, but luckily for pieck she lands on the first row of seats next to annie.

porco, unfortunately, lands on the floor. zeke would've laughed if it wasn't for his own head slamming against the carpeted roof of the van. annie holds onto pieck's arm whenever she's in a sitting position, screaming along with reiner for bertholdt to slow the car down as they see another speed bump.

he doesn't.

porco is once again thrown against the roof.

bertholdt is speeding, even as he gets onto the freeway with other cars. he's stressed out.

when they get there, they all wonder how the fuck bertholdt didn't even get pulled over and how the hell they even managed to survive. bertholdt cries out apologies as reiner and porco puke their guts out in the huge parking lot while annie gags and tries not to vomit at watching reiner and porco do it themselves. pieck is holding her hand and trying to cover her eyes while zeke manages to cover her ears and cringes at porco and reiner.

bertholdt's now sobbing at annie, profusely apologizing, even getting on all fours and begging for her forgiveness.

"how are you gonna get on your hands and knees for annie but not for your boyfriend," porco coughs before he spits out saliva to get rid of the taste in his mouth.

reiner follows behind him in a grimace, hand grabbing at his now emptied stomach and the other going to wipe at his mouth.

"dude, gross!! don't wipe it off with your hands!! pieck and bertholdt usually have tissues on hand," porco shouts to reiner, who drops his hand halfway.

pieck and zeke comfort the emetophobe annie all while bertholdt gives reiner and porco tissues and a breath mint. he gives them hand sanitizer as well, and throws a pack of peppermint frost gum at the two of them, clogging his nose up.

they scoff but oblige, both now looking somehow decent and also smelling it. pieck's calming down a shaking annie, who's buried herself in pieck's warm arms, and zeke stands to the side awkwardly.

porco and reiner rush to the order counter when they all step inside, ordering instead of asking the cashier for the employee they were looking for. annie, who's now calm, pushes them aside harshly.

"ignore them, is that girl louise working today? we need to talk to her," she asks and the poor cashier is terrified at annie's deadpan face.

"n-no!! sh-she should be at home!!"

"give me her address," annie starts to lean her front over the counter, almost pushing the poor girl into a heart attack.

she grabs a napkin and a pen, hurriedly scribbling down louise's address and running off into the back.

"we can get food on the way there," annie shrugs nonchalantly, "preferably wendy's or something."

————

bertholdt and pieck almost feel bad for the poor girl whenever she answers the door.

with annie's glare piercing into her and zeke's towering over her, they were sure she'd pissed herself.

"y-yes... what do you need," she digs her nails into the door.

pieck shoves them both aside and steps forward, louise lights up with recognition.

"don't worry, they aren't gonna hurt you," she waves her hand, completely ignoring how they both still glare at louise even over pieck's shoulder, "i just need to ask you something."

"what is it?"

"have you seen (name) lately? the girl who usually come in with me."

"last time i saw her was around a few weeks ago," louise shrugs, "wait, did she go missing?!"

"yea, we're trying to figure out where she was last on the night of her disappearance. did she say anything to you...? anything at all," pieck steps forward with a desperate hand on her heart.

"she said something about going drinking with two friends... something about them being blonde and short," she scratches at her temple, slight pout on her face, "that's all i can remember."

"did she say what bar," pieck steps closer again, putting her hand on the door frame.

louise shakes her head sadly, eyes dropping down to their feet.

with that, pieck broke into tears again and was led away by porco and annie. the rest of them followed behind, leaving louise inside her home.

"she has to be somewhere," pieck cries into her hands, "she has to be!!"

zeke's got a hand on his forehead while he loosely holds onto his glasses with his other hand. he lets out a choked out sob, and everyone turns to him.

"zeke... are you... crying?" reiner turns to look at zeke over his shoulder.

"fuck.. yea. it just doesn't make sense. she's gotta be somewhere," he rubs the bridge of his nose.

"maybe the guys louise mentioned know something...," bertholdt inserts as he looks in the rear view mirror.

the statement has pieck shouting at the meek boy, "we don't know what they look like!!! all we know is that one is blonde and one is short! we're at a dead end! we're fucking stuck!!!"

bertholdt visibly flinches in his seat while his throat clogs up, hands gripping at the steering wheel. his eyes are welling up with tears that he doesn't let out. reiner's hand is on his arm in comfort, eyebrows bunched up in concern.

pieck wails once more, "god, i'm so sorry bertl. this isn't your fault. you were trying to help."

he sniffles, "it's fine. i understand. we're all just upset and desperate to find (name)."

"we'll find her soon enough."

————

the loneliness is getting to your head.

you're in the secluded dark even during the day.

you just crave to be with someone, so much that you're getting desperate.

a tug at erwin's sleeve has him stopping and turning back to face you. you've got tears spilling over your cheeks and snot running into your mouth while you lean on an elbow to hold onto his sleeve for dear life.

it's not even nighttime, it's early afternoon. erwin had just come into the room to feed you lunch and to just leave after that. but you couldn't handle it anymore. being alone made everything dark and silent.

even if the lights and televisions were turned on.

"please," you beg and rest your forehead against his arm, "please don't leave me alone."

erwin's cheeks are lighting up while his eyes widen. his hand comes up to stroke the back of your head as it now rests on his hip. he doesn't mind the wet spot forming on his pants, this was the first time you ever initiated anything.

"i won't, darling. i need to go put the tray in the sink and let levi know i will be in here," he's taking a step away from you, jumping at your sudden loud sobs and tugging.

"no! no! please, i don't want to be alone," your eyes are squeezed shut while you grip onto his pants for dear life.

"but i need to go put these dishes away. after that, i can—"

"no!" you scream and push your head harder against his leg, "no! please don't leave! i don't want you to leave."

he sighs, putting the tray of empty dish onto your bedside table. he grabs the room key out of back pocket before he picks you up bridal style.

"you run, levi'll break your legs," his fingers dig into your skin, but loosen at the frantic nod you give.

he manages to unlock your bedroom door in a complicated way, which you don't feel like questioning, and strolls outside of the room.

he goes out of your quarters, it's the furthest you've ever been. you're in a large room that connects into other rooms, the amount of doors is slightly overwhelming to you even as you look at them.

to your shock, you pass by people. living people.

they all seem to be staff, and the only sort of acknowledgement you get from them is a wide eyed stare with a dropped jaw.

"levi is still in his study, correct," he asks while shifting his hold on you.

a girl with ginger hair and auburn eyes speaks up, "yes sir! he requested no one to enter."

erwin nods and walks past the girl, who gives you a small friendly wave whenever you look out from erwin's arm.

you turn your attention back to erwin whenever you hear the sound of a door opening and closing.

you're in a new room, which is assumed to be levi's study, that's lighted up by the cloudy and grey natural light that shines through the blinds and windows. there are bookshelves on both sides of the room and you notice that on both bookshelves the order of the books goes from largest to smallest. levi sits at a desk in the middle of the room, facing the door, as his hand holding a pen runs across the paper.

"what do you need," levi looks up for a brief moment, but snaps his head up once more.

"what's the brat doing here," he motions to you in erwin's arms.

erwin's sitting you on a leather couch in the office, wiping away some tears with his thumbs. he steps away from you and takes ahold of levi by the arm, essentially dragging him to the door of the study.

the dawning realization that they're going to leave you alone has you tripping over your feet as you run to the door. your hand grips onto levi's shirt and you tug him towards you, pulling him away from the door.

"i don't want to be alone," you cry while shoving your face into levi's chest, he cringes at your snot and tears soaking through his shirt.

"oh," he blinks, awkwardly rubbing your back with his hand, "why'd you bring her here?"

"because she wouldn't let me leave to put her tray away, which i now need you to do. i'm going to get in the bath with her, which you are welcome to join if you'd like."

"i don't like baths, sitting in your own filth," he scrunches his nose up.

"to each their own," erwin shrugs, giving levi a kiss on his temple and grabbing ahold of your hand.

"come along, darling," he smiles at how quickly you intertwine fingers with him and join his side.

he leads you into a different bathroom than the one that you use. there's not much of a difference besides it size, the tub's size, and the long counter built for two.

"undress for me, love," his giant hands are massaging your shoulders before he pulls away and walks over to the tub.

you look to the bathroom door, only to find a doorknob with a keypad, something you didn't notice when you walked in, and frown. you just sigh and slip off the the pastel pink nightgown you were wearing, the fabric pooling around your feet as it drops to the floor.

you look up into the mirror, and you almost want to cry. you look nothing like yourself. you barely had any life behind those (eye color) eyes and your eyebrows were now naturally furrowed in sadness. you've got fading bruises on one side of your body, trailing downwards all the way to your calf.

you decide to take off your panties before you let your thoughts roam, stepping out of them after they've dropped to the floor.

you hear the door open, to which you and erwin look to. only it's not levi.

it's a young boy with ebony black hair and emerald green eyes that stands at 5'10.

you instinctively cover yourself up and turn your back towards him, embarrassing washing over you in waves.

erwin scrambles to block the boys view, who is seemingly enjoying it, and furrows his bushy brows.

"who are you and what are you doing here? where is levi?!"

"levi sent me sir. he gave me clothing for the girl and then said you would be in here," his eyes try to take a peek over erwin's shoulder.

erwin snatches the clothing out of his hand and slams the door shut in the boy's face. he scoffs in annoyance while he puts the clothes onto the counter, now focusing his attention onto you.

"i'm sorry about that, dear. are you alright," he puts a hand on your back and guides you to his chest.

"i'm okay," you sniff, "just wanna get in the bath now."

he smiles a bit, leaving a sweet kiss on your forehead before he steps away. you watch him rid himself of his white button up and try not to let your eyes bulge out at his body. however, you can't exactly resist the urge whenever erwin is finally naked.

erwin's stomach has abs carved into it, a well groomed happy trail leading to his cock. the thighs in his muscles and back are almost screaming out at you whenever he turns and lifts his hand to ruffle his hair.

you look down to his feet, feeling ashamed for even staring for so long.

he gets into the bath after a moment, knees spread wide for you to sit between. his arms are resting on the rim of the tub while he sighs at the hot temperature. you get in, goosebumps running up and down your body as the heat invades your colder body. you settle in between his legs and lean back against his chest, closing your eyes.

his arms wrap around you, pulling you closer to him than you were before. you put a hand over his arm, silently giving him a message to keep his arms where they were.

his lips kiss at the crown of your head, and it seems sweet enough to where you think you might be able to smile. but you don't.

watching your eyes flutter, he mumbles into your hair, "the hot water make you tired?"

"yeah," you hum, "don't really like the hot outside of this. i prefer the cold."

"so does levi," erwin chuckles as he draws circles into your skin.

"does that mean you like summer?"

"no, i prefer fall or spring. both usually have the adequate temperature," he sighs.

"erwin," you ask after a few seconds, "why is levi so cold?"

"why are you only now asking?"

"i meant to ask sooner but i was never really... given the chance," you say bitterly.

"well, levi has been through a tough life. he almost went to jail before i met him. but it isn't my story to tell," he smiles at the memory.

you nod and finally let out a yawn, "i'm going to fall asleep soon."

from then, erwin washes the two of you so you both can get out of the bath. during this, you find out he's actually quite playful. he gathers up bubbly soap in his hands and blows them into your face, hearty laughs following immediately after.

he stands before you once you're out of the tub, wrapping a towel around his waist and one around your shoulders. you look up at him while he brushes your hair and puts on a few drops of lotion on your face.

you're trying to ignore the voice in the back of your head that maybe he really does care. because at the end of the day,

you still have a collar and chain on.