#crying puking gagging i fucking hate everything

[fcbalding]

it’s going to be okay, but it’s going to be different.

“orbit” by nao / “last sext” by melissa broder / “a history of my brief body” by billy-ray belcourt

[ethernetmeep]

attended graduation. surprisingly cried less than i was anticipating, at least during the event. cried a bit afterwards, mix of realization & fear of not being able to get home safely. i did, luckily… my mother eventually came. wore a suit & tie, specifically the tie my friend gifted to me. heated up like a car in front of the sun. brought a drink since i knew if i didnt id maybe faint because of heat exhaustion. more likely nausea.

sat with an acquaintance, rambled to her. felt sick during most of the ceremony. almost puked, uh… three times. nerves hit like a brick wall. literally. nauseous because of nervousness. wanted to yell & holler but i dont have the voice for that. simple quiet ‘yay’ syllables had to suffice. brought sheldon & wiffle & chiquitito. gave chiquitito a bath before i left. got ready an hour or so early. sat outside & looked at birds in the meantime

in an ideal world i am very smart & funny & talented & talk to everyone & perfect. in an ideal world i dont get so worried my body physically shuts down. in an ideal world, i would be able to say something as simple as, “oh my gosh, i’m so happy for you! take care!” without bile festering. i try to live in this ideal world, try to be the best i can, but ive learned this is really really hard for me to do because frankly i am quite stupid. i know this is a haha funny joke 70% of the time but if i actually start gagging on nothing i know it’s probably a bad sign and i should stop overworking myself lest i actually do puke. it would not be very appealing to throw up in front of a plethora of my peers & their families. god…..

don’t even.. don’t.

[head in hands]

fine. FOR THE SAKE OF JOURNALISM! nothing else.

“I FUCKING��� I HATE THEM. SO MUCH. I’M SORRY, I KNOW THATS MEAN—“

mother & other party member: “ITS NOT MEAN.”

[still reeling from remnants of stomach acid (as i did not eat anything in the morning when i took my meds which probably doesnt help this, although i didnt wanna eat then puke up whatever food it was i ate there either)] “I’M JUST— UGH! I’M SO FUCKING, I’M SO MAD.”

snippet of conversation. back seat with extra space just because. emotional & still nauseous. almost cry on the way home because of these weird things called human emotions, tears only well up; don’t actually fall. ramble to a man who knows a lot of people. miscellaneous conversations follow, like the one where i ask him if he can do anything about my favorite teacher being laid off. he says he’ll try. he…. how do i say this… knows… many individuals…. hes nice, slowly grown more used to his presence. i think if i cried with tears and snot long enough he’d be able to do many things, which is crazy & absurd but genuinely accurate. scarily accurate.

home, sitting outside & watching birds feed from the bird feeder. emptied it while i was gone. northern flicker, blue jay, blue-capped chickadee, common grackle, tufted titmouse… a wide variety. sprinkle some seeds on the ground for both squirrels & robins since they seem to not use the bird feeder much. robin right in front of me now, actually [was when i was typing this sentence]

i only made one note / doodle in my notebook during the event, but with words written & context applied its maybe better i don’t share it. saying…. heated words….. from a person that dislikes being rude unless someone is genuinely vile, is not as vague as one thinks they are. still, its pretty funny to imagine me being violent… slap thing was genuinely the first time i ever put my hands on someone like that

anyway, now theres three grackles near my bird feeder. two underneath. they’re so cute its almost upsetting, except its not. its quite nice to feel less alone

something something hi there something something oh hey i said everything now. i should probably lay down before my stomach gets worse

really happy i went, though. wouldn’t miss it for the world

[milkacchan]

Peaky blinders x sister reader with sensory issues, sensory overload piece next dears (requests are also open ❤)

Summary and cw: Reader goes into hyper sensitivity. I do not have Autism, I do however, have ADHD. I suffer with hypersensitivity and sensory overload. This particular story is one I'm writing off perosnal experience. It affects everyone differently, this is just how it affects me.

Tommy wouldn't say there was something off about you, but he'd probably say there was something peculiar about you.

You'd always been particular about things, ever since you were a baby, he can remember. He can remember you being /weird/ with things- like texture or temperature.

And he, along with Arthur, John and polly, mostly just him and Polly, assumed it was just normal; because to an extent it was. Babies find new things everyday and sometimes they don't like them, but they grow into them.

But then it became clear you /weren't/ growing into them. There were shirts you refused to wear because if how they felt on you. You'd cry and kick and scream. You wouldn't touch cold water unless it was for drinking- and don't get him started on wet floors.

As you got older, your reactions changed. You matured and he thought maybe you'd grow out of it. He hated seeing you upset

Wishful thinking. You didn't.

Here you were, 18 and gagging over how a glass mug felt in hand.

It'd been a rough morning, starting when you'd woken up. It was too hot, for one. You kicked the blankets off and moved to get up, the cold floors instantly sent chills through your body. Shoes were the first thing on, you couldn't deal with that today.

And dressing had gone okay until you'd reached for your sweater, touching the fabric you felt yourself gag. You take a deep breath, shaking your hand before going to put it on.

It was fine then, after you'd taken a few breaths and stretched the collar and you hoped to christ you stayed that way.

Finishing your routine, brushing your hair, brushing your teeth (which was hard enough on its own), you head down the stairs. You avoid touching the railing, unsure how your body would react.

"'Morning poppet," Pol hums.

"Mornin auntie."

"There's some hot water in the kitchen, get yourself some tea." She smiles softly and continues her hike to another room.

"Mmm," you nod tiredly.

You weren't sure you'd be able to finish tea, even start it really, not with how sick you felt. Your mind flickered back to the floor and the shirt, you groaned softly. Christ that only made it worse-

"Hey now,"

"Oh- sorry Tommy." You smile sheepishly. "Good mornin,"

"Good mornin', lost in thought already? Pretty early for that."

"Wish I could stop." You hum with a sigh reaching up in the cupboard to grab a mug. You slid it off the wood shelf.

Your body shuttered and you gagged, followed by a cough before dropping the cup. It shattered once it hit the ground and you groaned, squatting and holding your head.

You vaguely heard Tommy call your name, you were too busy trying not to puke. Everything was too much now- your shoes touched wrong, you couldn't wiggle your toes enough. Your hair felt weird along your fingers and your sweater- the fucking sweater. It just sat /wrong/.

"Hey," Tommy whispers, he looks panicked. "Hey are you okay?"

"Tommy," you take a shakey breath. You could feel the gag at the back of your throat. "Get my shirt off- get my fucking shirt off," you looked at the ground, trying not to focus on the fabric sitting against your skin.

"What...?"

"Tommy pull it off!"

"Okay- okay," his hands immediately drop to the hem of you sweater and he pushes it up your torso before tugging it over your head. He tossed it to the side. You're left in nothing but pants and a bra now, heaving as you screw your eyes shut.

"What's going on?" John's at the door now, sounding just as panicked as Tommy looked.

"Go get Pol," he says simply. 

"What's-"

"Go get Pol." He hissed, sending a glare to his brother.

You slide your hand under his jacket to grab his sleeve before dropping your head to your brothers chest. He shrugs off his coat and abandons it where it drops.

"Can I touch you?" He whispers, his hands hovering over your skin.

You take a deep breath and nod. "You can try," you mumbled.

He placed a hand on your upper back, the other in you hair. You don't seem to react and he silently thanks the heavens before stroking your hair.

"You alright?" His voice is soft, laced with concern. He understood it now, you had an episode. He hasn't seen one in years, especially not one this bad.

You nod, swallowing thickly.

"Do you need a bucket?"

You shake your head and close your eyes.

"Is she alright?" Pol calls out as soon as she's stepped into the room.

"Had an episode Pol," Tommy strokes your hair and looks up. "Can you turn on the record and tell the boys it'll be a quieter day today?"

"Tommy.." You mumble.

"And get her the white shirt she has, the long sleeved one with the small strawberry on the left."

Of course he'd take care of it. It was Tommy, regardless of how you'd voice your distaste for it, hezd always take care of the situation.

"Does she need a bucket?"

"No, she's alright."

"Broke your glass Aunt Pol," you whisper. "M sorry,"

"It's alright poppet, I can get another one."

You nod slightly.

She takes off and you can here her Inform Arthur and John. You smile slightly.

"Is it happening often? I haven't seen you like this in almost two years. You just not telling us?"

Then music.

"'Not this bad," you sigh. "Smaller things though, yeah."

He nods slightly. "Alright,"

"M sorry you have to deal with it."

"Don't be, promise it's no trouble."

He takes your shirt from Polly and slips over your head. You pull your arms through.

It was a shirt he had made, it was soft, oa fabric you never seems to mind. It was years old, and you'd slip into it whenever things got to be too much, or texture just wasn't cooperating.

"Alright sweet girl," he squeezes your arm gently. "Let's move to the parlor." He lifts you as he stands.

"Tommy I can walk,"

"I know," he smiles. "I used to carry you when you were a kid though, and much less of a rat."

"Not a damn rat," you grumble, thankful when he sets you on the couch.

"You alright?" John asked worriedly.

"You don't need a bucket do you?"

"Why do you all keep asking if I need a bucket? No Arthur, I appreciate the concern, I don't need a bucket."

"So you're alright?" John asks again.

"Yes, stupid, I'm fine." You smile softly.

[huntingpeople-savingsam]

Euphoria 2x04: Cassie

Oh my goodness, after all the bullshit so far this season with the whole Cassie / N*te thing this episode made me kinda feel for her. Like,

After she fucked the fuckboy, and he’s going off about how “you can’t blackmail me into dating you” I hate N*te but he’s right???

And when she said she’d tell Maddy and he was like “this isn’t about being a good friend or being sorry, this is about you getting what you want” he was still unfortunately very right??

But then here’s where this episode reminds us that Cassie is still very much a high school kid who wants her friend too dump this asshole for good but also is desperate for this male attention no matter how she can get it after everything she’s been through:

“Is Nate still coming???” Girl, GET UP

When he just walks in passed her and she’s so hurt even though she knows he doesn’t actually want her like that

Girl starts doing what unfortunately many do when they’re upset and stressed, hell I’ve been guilty of this myself, she starts drinking heavvvyyy

Then when she’s still not getting the attention she wants she’s like “time to put on my hot girl fit and pretend I don’t even care!!”

She keeps getting drunker and drunker and by my track of it it was seltzers, beers, some sort of 4 Loko looking drinks, and champagne. So she’s mixing shit too

Now she’s watching Maddy and N*te getting close and get in the hot tub together and she’s like I’ll put the stop to that

She “falls” on N*te getting in the hot tub while she’s still trying to get his attention and he pushes her off

And now she hears everything N*te has been pretending with Cassie wasn’t true: that N*te is still saying shit to Maddy about getting back together, moving away together, having his babies etc

And Cassie at this point is clearly drunk enough to the point she was definitely going to vomit and I think the combination of that and this heavy emotional trigger had her literally crying and throwing up

And she’s saying to Maddy, “I’m sorry I’m sorry you’re my best friend!!” and Maddy, who almost definitely already knows about N*te and Cassie, says to her, genuinely I think, “It’s okay, it’s okay” while she’s gagging bc she has chunky ass vomit on her and girl is still going

Then being pulled up to the bathroom while she’s red faced and crying with puke on her mouth still trying to get N*te’s attention and I think that this is fully the end of them

As hurtful and somewhat selfish as I think Cassie’s actions were towards Maddy this season, I still think that Maddy knows her and while earlier on when Cassie was acting all “he doesn’t care about you he cares about ME” I kinda wanted Maddy to put the beat down on her, I don’t think she actually will. I think Cassie fucked up this season but I still don’t think Maddy is going to put N*te over Cassie.

That’s just my take but I think it’s easy to forget with this show bc the actors are older and the things they’re all doing are way grown for most high schoolers but they are all still kids. And I think or at least hope that after this messy scene that N*te and Cassie are over and Maddy finally steps in like yeah I know what’s going on and N*te can fuck directly off and Cassie’s just on some friendship probation while they get through this ordeal

[sickybubbies]

A/n: Y'all I realised there's really not enough pregnant Jungkook on here with Jikook ofc I'm a sucker for them lately. Anyway, sorry for the crappy ending, enjoy!

TW: Emeto, Mpreg

----------------------------

"You alright babe?" Jimin rasps, leaning up so he was perching on his elbow as he squints his eyes where he could make out a faint figure of Jungkook half climbing; hauling himself onto the bed under the early greys of the morning. 

"Mhmm," Jungkook hums quietly for a response, grimacing at the acid like texture in his throat that he was left with after throwing up. It was raw and strained, and Jungkook didn't like it one bit. He huffs and slips a hand under his shirt to hold on to his pudgy stomach, for two reasons. It was pushing past the waistline of his sweats from how bloated he was, after expelling the contents of his stomach routinely which tires him out endlessly and he wants to rip his insides out. 

But Jungkook decides to be forgiving, because he's a few weeks into carrying the beautiful baby that he and Jimin had always dreamed about having. The pair had spent days and nights, with Jimin's head on Jungkook's torso as they both squabbled about how they'd raise their child way back in the boyfriend phase. (“One baby with your short genes, one with my tall genes and my good looks, how's that sound?" "Yah!") Jungkook reminds himself that it was all gonna be worth it in the end, it's always worth it. He imagines just how bright Jimin's eyes were to get once their baby was here, if it wasn't bright enough when Jungkook told him the news of his pregnancy; he fears he'd metaphorically go blind from his joy. 

"I've just been sick." He murmurs, leaning back onto the headboard. Jungkook slouches, the energy sucked out of his bones as he shuts his eyes to hopefully regroup himself.

Jimin hums in acknowledgement, more awake now that he was aware of his husband's strife and leans over to press a generous kiss to his forehead. He wasn't going to let the younger deal with it alone, though the ones he accidentally sleeps through he's always up and at his service when needed and to smother him in love for afterwards. 

"I thought you were gonna. I could hear your tummy all night going squelch squelch" He mumbles playfully, hoping it would lighten the dreadful atmosphere. Jimin places a hand on Jungkook's stomach and begins to rub circles into it, hoping it would ease him some.

 The latter's abs had begun to disappear and his stomach was slightly dome shaped from the swell he had, his skin was softer and squishier the closer he gets to the second trimester and Jimin couldn't keep his hands off of Jungkook. In his defense, his husband looked adorable pregnant, he adored the sight so much and loved the tiny being to bits already. 

"Shut up Chim, listening to you is making me wanna vomit again" Jungkook groans, shifting on the mattress so he could get comfortable and pressing a fist to his lips as he feels his stomach fizzle up and an airy burp escape from his lips. 

Jimin pouts, he begins carding through Jungkook's soft purple hair. "Still feel bad? Aren't you supposed to feel better after bringing everything up?" He questions, his heart clenching as he watches Jungkook's face begin to pale and paint a tinge of green. 

Jungkook shrugs. "Dunno about that hyung, I don't feel better at all. I feel queasy" He admits, he'd learnt to vocalize to the older about how he felt; if he doesn't it's gonna end up with another one of Jimin's shirts in the wash, trust he's been there and learnt his lesson. 

"My baby…" Jimin coos softly, propping up next to him and wrapping an arm around his shoulders. He keeps his fingers in Jungkook's hair, looking down at him and kissing the crown of his head as he slowly scratches his scalp. He holds the younger tighter when he stiffens and moans, his brows furrowing from the pain and havoc the nausea was causing in Jungkook's stomach from how he nuzzles his nose into Jimin's chest. "It's one of those days huh? Crackers and water, maybe some ginger ale if we feel less stubborn. How long does lil' bean plan to keep you sick for anyways?" 

"That feels nice..." Jungkook mumbles out, relaxing a little. Jimin's soft yet aimless conversations helped keep him distracted, and so were his gentle touches they did a great job in lulling him to sleep. 

Speaking of which, Jungkook is just about to drift into dreamland in the comfort of Jimin's arms when his stomach churns again. He feels a splash of bitter bile in the back of his throat, almost like the residue of sick that was still sitting at his throat from earlier. He almost sits upright, clenching his throat and covering his mouth as he belches. It catches Jimin's attention. 

"Jungkookie, Jungkookie" Jimin says in a haste, cursing under his breath as he looks around for anything Jungkook to spew in without jostling his stomach too much. His eyes drawing back to the younger one in worry when he next hears a wet gag which meant he couldn't hold on any longer now that his hand was leaving his mouth. 

Jimin looks around and finds the glass bowl he had on his side table which Jungkook had brought him months back, he sighs in relief. It was stashed with a bunch of sweets and random bits that he's quickly dumping out. He snags it up and under Jungkook's chin, straightening up with him and clicking his tongue when Jungkook whines and protests. 

"It's okay, Jungkookie it's okay, do it here. In here babe, I'll clean it don't worry. It's just a bowl" He assures softly, lowering it slightly so it wasn't right in his face as he slowly massages the back of his neck. 

Jungkook whimpers, feeling his stomach slosh and his muscles tense as he wraps an arm around his middle. He barely registers Jimin turning the lamp on before he's disgorging a stream of vomit into the bowl. 

He pants and grunts, jolting with a hiccup. His breath gets caught in his throat and he gags, coughing and spluttering before more chunky liquid is brought up which splashes into the bowl. Jungkook squeezes his eyes shut, just the fact that it looked so much like his dinner still sent his stomach into another wheel. 

"That's it, let it out Kookie, my sweet boy." Jimin hums, digging under the sick man's shirt and rubbing up and down his arched back. He grimaces when Jungkook retches again, throwing up even more which makes his heart ache.

"You're doing well bun, I'm so proud of you. Keep going until you feel like you've finished" He encourages, kissing his shoulder and pulling him closer before pausing when Jungkook sobs. 

"H-hyung…" Jungkook chokes out, hiccuping as fat tears roll down his rosy and embarrassed cheeks. Usually, he's never one to cry so easily but pregnancy hormones had him spiralling into a pouty and emotional wreckage in a flash. Something was gnawing at him. 

"Jungkookie" Jimin whispers so he didn't startle him, stroking his hair back as he listened. 

"W-why this bowl… I got you it f-for our anniversary!" Jungkook cries out making Jimin flinch, his mouth wide in realisation now that Jungkook's refusal to puke earlier was because he didn't want to do it in such a meaningful, meaningful bowl. He forgot Jungkook was so peculiar about the little things. 

"Y-you could've gotten-" Jungkook hiccups. "A-another bowl o-or the trashcan. I w-worked so hard to get you this. Do you know how much it cost me on our holiday? N-now I've been sick in it i-it's all ruined I fucking h-hate you" He rambles, in the spur of his overriding emotions he misses Jimin's amused expression.

"Cute" He murmurs under his breath with a quiet chuckle, wiping his tears with his sleeve. "I'm sorry. I'll clean it up, squeaky clean and good as new. You won't even remember that you've been sick in it. I'm serious!" Jimin's voice raises a pitch as Jungkook looks at him unconvinced, his doe eyes still holding tears.

"Gimmie a kiss" He giggles, crawling forward while moving the bowl away as Jungkook groans loudly and scrunches his nose and tilts his head back. "A-ah ew no I've literally- Jimin I just puke-" He stammers, pursing his lips as Jimin eventually steals a kiss from him.

His tears were dry now, the fit subsided and it was only laughter and giggles together even if Jungkook's morning was off to a rough start Jimin always made it better. 

[julemmaes]

Honey - part three

Elide Lochan x Lorcan Salvaterre roommates au

A/N: famous last words: I can finish this is in two hours. six hours laters and I feel like I’ve been beaten up by a gang of bigass old faes if you know what I mean.

IT CONTAINS SMUT, not suited for readers under 18

Please be kind I fucking hate my smut, if it’s disgusting just don’t comment on it cause I could hit my head on the wall several times

masterlist

Word count: 7,519

Aelin's scream was like a stab to the brain, "Get up you nasty little bitch!"

"Ace! Why don't you try with sweet Ellie?" retorted Lysandra.

Elide didn't even have the strength to open her eyes or move from the fetal position she was in, curled up with a pillow pushed so hard against her belly that she wouldn't have been surprised if it had somehow damaged her internal organs, "Please leave."

The two didn't seem to hear her.

"Sweet?" Aelin huffed, "But you did see her last night, right?"

Elide opened one eye, seeing that they had both sat down at the end of the bed. She felt the cracks tugging at her eyelid and grunted, pressing her face into the pillow. She wanted to die. And she wanted Manon to come and free her from those two supposed friends who she knew were about to remind her of her misadventures.

"Except for what happened before we left," Aelin winked, placing a hand on her foot. Elide withdrew it, not wanting to feel physical touch of any kind at that moment. "I would have been willing to break up with Rowan so I could get between Kyllian and you, honestly."

Elide grunted again, her voice muffled by the pillow. "I'm begging you girls, you need to get out before I throw up again."

And it was true, she would throw up if they didn't stop talking. Plus, Elide didn't care in the slightest what the drunk her had done. She hated her so much.

Lysandra giggled and she felt it as she climbed between the covers until she was settled next to her on the pillows, "Between her and Lorcan though, no?"

The cry of disgust that erupted from Aelin and the all too loud laugh from the other didn't make Elide register the words right away, but as soon as she realised what they had said, her stomach began to twist and turn, and not like when Lorcan accidentally brushed her hand or when he put his hand on her thigh during movie nights. Oh no.

With a movement she didn't know she had the physical skills to make, she shifted the covers off her body and launched herself into the hallway, slamming her hand against the bathroom door and throwing herself to the floor in front of the toilet before the highly concentrated alcoholic contents in her stomach spilled onto the floor.

As she vomited and Lysandra tied up her hair, massaging her back, Elide felt her heart break slowly. She wanted to turn around, to ask Aelin what had happened, or maybe not. She groaned as another gag shook her body and her eyes filled with tears once more as she puked what could only be alcohol.

"How do you still have stuff in your stomach?" muttered Aelin from outside the bathroom door.

Elide didn't blame her, vomit was disgusting and she was particularly sensitive to the sound of gagging. The only reason Lysandra wasn't the least bit uncomfortable was her younger sister Evangeline, who she had practically raised without anyone's help. Whatever came out of a person's body, their friend had already seen it in all shapes and colours.

Elide cursed herself for thinking such a thing while she was bent over the toilet throwing up, because it pushed her over the edge one more time and a sob wracked her body, "Fuck-" she managed to mutter between spits.

"I thought you weren't going to barf any more after last night," Lys said, continuing to rub her back.

"True," Aelin mumbled a little louder, "did you keep drinking after?"

Elide managed to turn her head towards the door, seeing that her friend was sitting on the floor just outside the bathroom. She grimaced as a gust of air that smelled like vomit reached her nose, "After what?"

"You and Lorcan left after you threw up," Lys explained to her. Elide didn't bother turning towards her, she didn't have the energy, "And you threw up so much Ellie, everywhere. It's weird that you have anything else to reject."

It wasn't weird at all considering the only thing Elide remembered was the amounts of alcohol she had ingested. She'd started just before seven with straight tequila, desperate to see how indifferent people were to the biggest catastrophic problems in human history, and everyone knew she couldn't handle alcohol even in small amounts. But Elide was also known to be the type who could drink for hours without ever feeling sick, if she now found herself bent over the toilet the next morning, it meant she had gone too far.

"I don't remember anything."

"It's okay, don't worry about it," Aelin said and Elide felt a shiver run through her body at the hint of mischief in her voice. She braced herself mentally to hear how much she'd actually whored out the night before, "We're here to fix the memory loss."

Lysandra made a disgusted noise as Elide flushed the toilet and the water stirred underneath them, but she patted her shoulders and pulled herself up, "You need to take a shower first though. Because you smell like death."

"Geez, thanks," Elide murmured as she began to undress.

The grin that appeared on Aelin's face made her hands freeze around the hem of her shirt. The other arched an eyebrow, looking into her eyes, "What? Lorcan is the only one you can flash?"

Elide closed her eyes, bringing her hands to her face and then let go a scream of frustration.

"Exactly."

Oh, god.

"I remember..." Elide scoffed, running her hands through her hair. When her fingers reached the tips, she was horrified to find they were encrusted with what was surely vomit from the night before. "Fuck."

Lysandra snickered beside her, "Why were you so drunk that you didn't realise what you were doing so damn early?"

Elide looked at her, and although she knew the question was only asked to tease her more, there was a note of concern in her tone. Her shoulders sagged a little and she shook her head, starting to undress undisturbed, "I set out to research a few things and the world is a shitty place and there was nothing I could do in the immediate future to save us all so I got drunk."

"Sounds like alcoholism," Aelin joked.

Both Lysandra and Elide laughed, "If you knew what I found out you'd get drunk too," the latter added.

"Send everything my way." the blonde winked at her, and then they went out, leaving her alone to wash away the sins of the night before and letting her mind travel. And Elide's mind travelled far too much as she racked her brains to remember Lorcan's reactions to a naked her.

After her friends had told her everything that had happened the night before. From her taking her clothes off in front of her best friend, to him getting stuck in their bathroom and calling Aelin for help, to her dancing with Kyllian specifically to make her roommate jealous - or so the drunk her seemed to have justified her actions - to Fenrys saving her from what was sure to end up being just casual sex that would only widen the gap between her and Lorcan.

Gap that apparently wasn't as pronounced as she thought.

Aelin and Lysandra had told her about the way he had pushed his way through the crowd and joined Elide on the dance floor. The way they had danced to one of their favourite songs until they had been on the verge of kissing.

Elide had never been so relieved to know that she'd thrown up on someone. And that her plan to attract Lorcan had worked.

She was cooking now, thinking about how bad it would have been for her to find out they'd kissed without having even the slightest recollection of it happening, when the front door opened and the boy who was the object of her dreams walked into the kitchen.

He stopped in the doorway, looking at her with the most emotionless face Elide had ever seen him wear.

"Hello, handsome." she murmured, continuing to cook.

Lorcan stood still in the threshold for a while without saying anything, as if to sort the situation out. Then, without taking his eyes off what she was doing, he took off his jacket and shoes and walked into the kitchen, "How are you feeling?"

Elide had her back to him as she washed some tomatoes, "Just a bit of a headache. I threw up again when I woke up, but other than that I'm fine."

"Did you drink some water? Had breakfast?" he asked her.

Elide shook her head looking at him, "I woke up after noon, Aelin and Lysandra came over." then frowned, "I think it's their fault I threw up."

Lorcan chuckled, "Sure, absolutely." then he gathered his hair into a messy bun and Elide focused on the way the muscles of his biceps tensed every time he pulled on the elastic, "It's not the alcoholic coma from last night at all."

Elide gathered some courage and taking a deep breath, said, "About last night-"

"We don't have to talk about it," Lorcan immediately interrupted her.

She looked up at him, trying not to show any emotion, trying to read his on that sculptural face that remained impassive. Then, seeing the way he was looking at her, she came to a conclusion.

She arched an eyebrow, plastering a grin on her face, "Does this mean you didn't like my tits?"

Lorcan turned red in the face before stuttering, "No. I mean, yes! No, fuck. Shit... I don't know."

Elide chuckled and began to dress their salad, "You've never seen a pair of tits before?" she asked knowing full well how untrue that was.

When she had moved into the flat, both she and he had had their own wild nights out where they brought home a different partner every weekend. On one occasion, Elide had been stunned when she came out of her room and bumped into a girl she had spent the night with a few weeks earlier. The girl had only bid her good morning, winking, before returning to Lorcan's room.

"No, it's not that," he muttered, closing his eyes and pinching the bridge of his nose.

"So surely you'll have other samples to compare my boobs to and you'll be able to tell me if they're above average," she continued, prolonging this gentle torture.

He sat down, both elbows resting on the table, and rested his chin on his clasped hands. He looked into her eyes for a few seconds, then whispered, "What are you doing?"

"I'm making our lunch," she replied innocently.

She heard him breathe through his nose, "Why are we talking about your tits, I meant?"

"Uh," she smiled, casting him another quick glance, "I didn't think you were so grossed out that you can't even handle a conversation about them."

The frown on his face went deeper and deeper. He remained silent for so long that Elide thought he would never say anything again, that she would never get his thoughts on her breasts, but when she served the salad, sitting down in front of him, he finally spoke.

"It's not that," he repeated, looking away, "they're very nice. Balanced." he began to eat undisturbed and Elide grimaced in amusement, finding a way to keep the conversation going.

"Balanced? What are they? An economic system?"

Lorcan clenched his jaw, setting his fork down on his plate and looking into her face again. She knew she was playing a dangerous game, that she was risking losing her sanity, but she had to know, had to-

"They're perfect and, maybe they are because they're attached to you, but they're probably the most beautiful tits I've ever seen."

Elide's brain shut down. And he seemed to realise it too because the shadow of a smile began to form on his lips.

Lorcan leaned forward on the table and her eyes snapped to his arms. Fingers flexing, interlocking, caught her attention completely. She returned her gaze to his, feeling her body heat up as he resumed speaking. "If I'm going to be completely honest... If you want the details, Elide," the way he said her name made her most intimate part clench around nothing, "I've never seen such nice, small nipples and that pink?" he shut his eyes, moaning as he brought one of the tomatoes to his mouth and wrapped his lips around the fork.

Elide swallowed the mouthful that had been in her mouth for over a minute and nearly choked when he opened his eyes again and they were darker than normal if that was possible.

She looked away, too many feelings building up inside her, but crossed her legs, trying to relieve some of the tension there.

"Wasn't that enough, Ellie?" he asked in a rough voice, biting into an olive, making sure she saw the way his lips closed around it.

She swallowed again, "No, it was fine..." she cleared her throat when it came out too weak, "Thanks for the feedback."

Lorcan let go a throaty chuckle, "The pleasure is all mine."

***

Like every Sunday evening, the whole group had gathered at the twins' house. And that night everyone was there, although Vaughan and Vesta, along with Aedion and Sorrel, had gone out into the back yard a few hours ago and had not yet returned. Elide suspected they'd taken to smoking.

Those left in the house were playing one of the most popular games, "I feel like."

The game had no real objective, other than to embarrass people or get them to confess to extreme or obscene sexual acts. It was simply a matter of drawing a card, reading what it said and giving it to the person you thought had done the closest thing to what was described on the card. The only real rule was that you had to tell the whole story of what happened if the card you were handed told the truth.

Quite often the game would be interrupted because one of the two sides of the various couples would cheat, change the rules and instead of passing it on to the appropriate person, they would pass it on to their partner as an invitation to lock themselves in the first spare room they could find to experiment with what was asked by the game.

The cards could range from as basic things as "I feel like your first time was in a public restroom." to as a bit more hardcore as "I feel like you got fisted in the woods."

And in that moment, Elide had a strong feeling that Rowan and Aelin would soon be going home.

"Oh my fucking god," Rowan muttered as he read the words on the card, turning red from head to toe. He looked up at Aelin, swallowing and making his adam's apple bob, "Where do you even find these games?"

Elide giggled beside him, "There's a girl on the internet who updates the cards every month and puts them up for sale, we take turns to see who has to buy them each time."

"Oh god," he said shaking his head. When he slid the card in Aelin's direction, the girl leaned towards him to leave a soft kiss on his lips and when they broke away they were both smiling. Aelin read what was written on the card and for a second it seemed like the colour drained from her face, but then she blinked and cleared her throat, looking at Rowan with wide eyes.

"Maybe we should go away. To try it out." she murmured, so quietly that only those on the couch with them heard her.

Elide looked up at the boy next to her, or rather, behind her, to see if he was listening, but he seemed lost in thought. He had been absentmindedly stroking her arm since they had settled there, and Elide didn't think she had ever been so relaxed in her life.

She and Lorcan were sitting at one end of the sofa, opposite to Rowan and Aelin, her between his legs and with her back against his chest. Every time one of them laughed, their bodies moved closer together and now she had her head resting on the part of his chest between his neck and shoulder.

She was home.

Fenrys and Connall, across the living room, sitting on the floor, booed.

"You can't pass them all on to her!" complained Lysandra.

Aelin didn't even look at her as she spoke, her eyes always fixed on Rowan's, as if they were having a telepathic conversation, "Lys, shut up."

Her friend gasped, bringing a hand to her mouth.

"I say we vote to kick them out of the room," Asterin said, in exactly the same position she was in, but between her boyfriend's legs. Half the people in the room raised their hands to the sky, making Aelin roll her eyes.

Fenrys nodded, always ready to back Asterin up in whatever situation they were in, "It's starting to smell like Rowaelin in here."

Lorcan chuckled behind her, knocking her forward. And as the others lost themselves in the chatter, Elide shifted her gaze to Manon, who sat in the armchair next to the couch, one hand in Dorian's hair, who sat with his head resting on the armrest.

Her friend's bright eyes sparkled with malice as she arched an eyebrow and gestured to the boy she was practically sitting on. Elide felt her cheeks blush, but smiled naively at her, pretending not to know what she was alluding to. Manon smiled back.

Elide had never spoken openly to her about Lorcan, not in that way at least, but she knew Manon knew - in fact, now that she thought about it, she had never had to do that with anyone. Everyone had been rather quick to catch on that. Everyone except Lorcan.

The hand on her arm stopped, clinging completely against her skin and Elide had to force herself not to look at him, but then he lowered himself onto her and whispered in her ear, "Ellie."

She turned her head just enough to look at him and his lips brushed her cheek, so briefly that she thought she had imagined it. Lorcan had pulled back and was now looking into her eyes, "Your turn."

She blinked and turned towards the others, only realising at that moment that all eyes were on them. She felt her face burn, but she nodded, putting a hand on Lorcan's knee and pushing herself forward, rubbing her ass on the crotch of his trousers. She'd been doing this all night, all night teasing him, just as he was teasing her, brushing the side of the breasts from time to time.

And each time, Lorcan would burst into a coughing fit and move further back, which only gave Elide a chance to grind even harder against him in an attempt to regain the comfortable position they were in before.

As she settled back into her seat, she met Fenrys' gaze, who had a shit-eating grin on his face. She lowered her eyes to the maroon card in her hands quickly, shimming her hips between his legs. Lorcan's hands ended on her shoulders and she looked up at him, batting her eyelids like a fawn.

"Stop moving around so much," he grumbled.

She smiled gently and then took up reading. She hadn't touched alcohol that night, for obvious reasons, but she still found it hard to understand what was written there when Lorcan's fingers began to draw imaginary lines across her bare skin.

"I feel like..." she whispered, her eyes going wide. She looked across the sofa at Rowan.

The friend gave her a chuckle, "I told you they seemed a bit extreme."

I feel like you performed a titjob on someone while being eaten out.

Before she could realise what she was doing, she said, "Can I give myself the card or...?"

Dorian turned a quizzical look on her, "You know you have to-"

Fenrys shrieked something unintelligible, but that stopped Dorian. Manon above them clenched her hands into fists, her eyes half-closed at the sudden commotion, "I haven't killed you yet just because-"

"Yeah yeah, just because of Asterin, I get it," Fenrys replied moving a hand midair, his gaze never leaving Elide's, who in a moment of clarity realised what Dorian was about to say. What the blond said only served to confirm her fear, "But Elide just confessed to doing whatever is written on it and I want to know every detail."

She felt Lorcan stiffen behind her and then Elide realised something else entirely. He must have read what was written on the card.

"So?" pressed Aelin, leaning over Rowan and snatching the card from Elide's hands. She opened her mouth wide with an amused expression, then put on a pout, looking at her boyfriend, "These are the things I sometimes wish you'd be a little more open about."

Rowan arched an eyebrow, reading the card in turn, "We can do those two things at the same time and without anyone else having to see you naked."

Lysandra, next to them, picked up the card, "Oh, Aedion and I did that too. Although it was a normal blowjob, no titty job." she exclaimed happily.

One thing that pleased Elide greatly was the fact that no one in that room would judge her for what she did in the bedroom and who she did it with. Also because there was a high probability that they had done it too.

And slowly the card was passed among all the members of their group and when it reached Fenrys and Asterin, the girl winked at Elide, murmuring a sensual, "I've never done it, but I'm sure it wouldn't hurt." Fenrys winked behind her, intertwining their hands. Asterin's smile only grew wider, before she added, "You have our numbers."

Elide blushed, but smiled anyway, nodding.

Everyone began to talk about the various possibilities, as they did during every turn, and the card finally passed from Dorian and Manon and the two exchanged only a glance before giving the card to Lorcan.

Lorcan who was taking deep breaths one after the other and had his eyes closed. Elide had never seen him so focused in her life. She noticed the way he contracted and relaxed his jaw repeatedly and frowned.

Was he alright?

She ran a finger over his thigh to get his attention, tracing a line from his knee to where his leg touched her hip and Lorcan let go a shuddering breath, opening his eyes slightly and tightening his grip on her shoulders, "I don't think you should do that." his voice so hoarse and deep that Elide felt her stomach knot. She didn't understand what he was referring to.

And then she felt it.

Hard and... thick against her ass.

She opened her eyes wide, pointing them at him, and held her breath. She had to stop herself from opening her mouth in surprise, but she couldn't stop herself when her hips pushed against Lorcan's now obvious erection.

Elide had never been so happy to hear Fenrys' laughter as she was at that moment, because if it hadn't been for the sudden noise, the moans that escaped them both would have been heard all too well and neither of them would have been able to look at anyone else in the room for the rest of their lives.

Lorcan swallowed, breathing through his nostrils, and his gaze fell to her lips. Her eyes did the same and she didn't care that they were among everyone and would have everyone's eyes on them if they did exactly what Elide was thinking, because his lips parted slightly and he whispered her name and she was lost.

Without thinking about it for another second, Elide turned just enough to have her face directly in front of his and closed her eyes, feeling his lips brush hers. She released a breath she didn't know she was holding, "Lorcan,"

And then she kissed him, and it was exactly as she had always dreamed it would be, as his lips moved with hers and they tasted and breathed from each other. A sound that Elide had never made in her life rose up her throat as Lorcan shifted and with a sharp movement of his hips turned her fully towards him and now she was on her knees in front of him, both of them breathing heavily as they looked into each other's eyes.

Someone coughed in the room and she heard Aelin whisper a weak "fucking finally", but Elide didn't give a shit.

She placed her hands on Lorcan's face, tilting his head back so she could reach him better. The second his hands landed on her hips, their lips collided again in a fierce kiss and his tongue found its way into her mouth.

The first touch of their tongues was like having a thousand fireworks explode in her mouth.

"Okay, it's time to join the others," Manon murmured.

Elide heard Fenrys mutter, "Please not on the couch, there are guest rooms upstairs."

Lorcan pulled away from her just enough to see what was going on around them and her hands slid around his neck, ending in his hair as she admired the line of his cheekbones and the way his lashes caressed his skin every time he closed his eyes.

God, he was beautiful.

"Which one can we use?" asked Lorcan as he looked at Fenrys.

Elide's eyes went wide, causing him to turn towards her. She ran a thumb over his lower lip, smirking, "So sure of yourself."

Without missing a beat, Lorcan mimicked her grin and squeezed her hips, "You don't want to?"

Elide smiled, turning towards her friends, stopping to look at Fenrys, "The second on the left right?"

When the owner of the house winked at her, nodding, she stood up, pulling Lorcan with her, who had a confused look on his face, "Why do you know that?"

She had the decency to blush, grabbing his hand and pulling him towards the stairs, "You don't want to know."

Lysandra burst out laughing as everyone resumed their seats on the floor or the couch, "You really don't."

Elide tugged at him more insistently, not looking at Lorcan's reaction to those words. She just wanted to get to the room and lock herself in with him.

When she felt his hand settle on her hip and slide down to her ass cheek, where he paused to give it a squeeze, she almost turned and slammed him against the wall just so she could continue kissing him how she needed to.

They arrived in front of the door and she stopped with her fingers on the handle, once inside there would be no stopping. There would be no point of return.

His fingers brushed her cheek and she turned to face him, who now wore a ravenous, excited look, but Elide could see the concern and hesitation in taking the next step, "We don't have to do anything, Ellie."

She nodded, because she knew that was the case, but squeezed his hand to emphasize what he said, "But I want to."

"Good thing, cause the thought of you fucking those two gave me some ideas."

She grinned, placing a hand on his chest, "I wasn't the one doing the titty work, but we can always try."

Lorcan groaned softly at the knowledge of Elide licking another girl and then pushed the door open, backing in and taking his-

Whatever Elide was at that moment to him, it wasn't important.

The only thing that was important was his lips on hers.

The difference in height wasn't making it easy for him, and when he leaned down even further, never breaking the kiss, to run his hands under her knees and pull her up, Elide seemed to understand that right away and, pulling away just enough to jump into his arms, they found themselves on each other in seconds.

Lorcan bit her lower lip, making her moan, and when he moved to her jaw, nipping lightly at her skin, Elide threw her head back, pushing her hips against his and drawing a groan from both of them.

He immediately took the opportunity to latch his lips onto the smooth, quivering skin of her neck, feeling the bed behind his knees and sitting up, letting her straddle him. His hands moved up her legs, caressing her inner thighs, but never really getting close to where she needed him most.

Elide began to grope his chest, grazing the skin of his arms, but never staying in one spot, until Lorcan began to suck at the bare skin between her neck and shoulder and she nudged him slightly.

He quickly pulled away, panting, "What?"

There were too many layers. Keeping her eyes fixed on his, Elide lowered her hands to the hem of her shirt and slipped it off in one swift movement. She smiled smugly when she could finally see Lorcan's reaction to her bare tits.

His eyes were slightly wider than usual and his pupils so dilated that Elide realised that she had never noticed that Lorcan's eye colour was not black, but just a very dark brown. When he looked at her, the words died in her throat.

"I love it when you don't wear a bra," he murmured, reaching up to her and brushing her lips with his, "But I love even more the way you shiver every time I do this."

Elide didn't have a chance to dwell on the way he'd said love, because without her noticing, his hands had found their place on her waist and she had to bite her lip to keep from crying out in pleasure when he brushed the sides of her breasts with his thumbs.

He pushed himself further against her, brushing his lips over her ear, "When we're alone and you don't have to hold back, I want you to scream my name." and then he moved quickly, leaving only a light kiss on her shoulder before his lips closed around a sensitive nipple.

With the first sweep of his tongue around the hard bead, Elide whimpered, pushing her hips down against his and making him moan into her chest. She brought her hands into his hair, clenching and pulling each time his teeth bit or scraped the sensitive skin around the nipple.

When he seemed to want to move on to the other breast, Elide shook her head, pulling his hair back to its roots and forcing her mouth against his, making him grunt. She had to feel him.

"Lorcan," she breathed, between kisses, "I need to touch you."

One of her hands slipped between the two of them, palming him through the sweatpants that did little to hide Lorcan's huge boner. He moaned against her chin, "Fuck."

They pulled apart again and when he had stripped off his shirt, Elide didn't waste a moment and pressed her bare chest against his, causing him to fall back onto the mattress.

Lorcan had other ideas though, because in one smooth motion she found herself lying on her back, his gentle weight pressing her against the covers and his bright smile lighting up his face. He left a kiss on her nose, on her lips and then down to the split in the middle of her breasts and her eyes rolled back in her head as a flashback from two nights before appeared in her head, of Lorcan doing the same thing with his eyes as they danced.

"Can I take these off?" he asked her, once he reached her hips where he was leaving kisses light as feathers.

Elide was breathing raggedly, but nodded when she understood he was talking about her leggings. Still keeping her eyes closed, she lifted her hips off the mattress, closing her fists around the covers as her bottoms disappeared along with her socks and the cold air hit her bare skin.

Now only the thin fabric of her black panties separated her from achieving what she wanted.

That and Lorcan's slacks.

"Ellie." she heard him as he came back on top of her, one knee between her legs to keep his balance. She licked her lip, opening her eyes and keeping her gaze fixed on him, on that perfect face.

"Do you have a condom?" she asked in a whisper, as if afraid the answer would be no. She had them, but they were downstairs, in her purse, and she had no desire to leave the room right then.

Lorcan arched an eyebrow, "I'm not having sex with you tonight, Elide."

She frowned, folding her arms under her and propping herself up on her elbows, "What does that mean?"

"That I'm not completely sober," he said, leaning his head towards her chest, keeping his eyes fixed in hers, "And the first time it'll be inside you," he murmured in a rougher voice, placing a light kiss on the nipple he hadn't licked before, "I want it to be at a time when I'm lucid and can remember all the noises and moans you make." and then he gave the same attention to her other breast, pushing her against the mattress one more time, until Elide was a squirming mess under him and deemed his treatment sufficient.

"Now I'm going to slip these off," Lorcan murmured, grazing a finger along the hem of her panties, and Elide shuddered, "and touch you. Here." the same finger slid across her covered folds, starting at her clit and following her slit to her entrance. "Already so wet for me."

Elide thrashed on the bed, moaning softly as he applied a little more pressure, "Stop teasing, we'll have time for that when we get home." she managed to toss out between shaky breaths.

"Understood ma'am." he taunted, grabbing the edges of the thing and pulling it down. The sound that burst from him was completely animalistic and threatened to make Elide come before he even really touched her. "So beautiful." he said, kneeling in front of her.

Lorcan's hands wrapped around her ankles and he pushed her legs up, placing her feet on the edge of the bed, until she was left with her knees bent and her pussy at his full disposal. Elide risked looking down between her legs and her eyes locked into his as he lowered himself onto her and smiled.

The way her chest rose and fell made her tits bounce and Lorcan seemed to appreciate it, but he didn't seem to be planning to do anything. Elide tipped her head back, whispering in a weak voice, "Do something, please."

He laughed and her muscles flexed, clenching around nothing. It was at that moment that she felt him, his breath on the most sensitive part of her body. "I'm going to make you cum so fast you won't have time to count to a hundred."

Lorcan's fingers came off her ankles and went to part her lips, making her feel the warm air of his breathe even more. He parted them until he was satisfied and Elide lowered her gaze just as his tongue made contact with her throbbing core. A rush of pleasure coursed through her body, making her legs tremble, "Lor," she moaned.

"Mh, El," he closed his lips around her clit, pressing his tongue against the pearl over and over, until Elide repeated his name like a prayer, "So good. You taste so good."

Her hands ended up in his hair again, pushing his face against her sex, seeking more. She began to move her hips, following the strokes of his mouth on her, but one of Lorcan's arms slithered around her pelvis and pinned her to the bed, lapping her juices as with his thumb he reached to massage her clit with such precision that Elide knew that whatever she would do on her own in the future, she would never be able to match how he was making her feel.

Elide cried out in pleasure, bringing a hand to her mouth as she felt his tongue thrust into her and an all too familiar warmth build up in the pit of her stomach.

She brought one hand up to massage the nipple he had only kissed and made a choked sound, her hips jerking upwards.

Lorcan moaned against her, a new sound, different from any he'd made so far, and Elide couldn't help herself. She pulled herself up onto her elbows, continuing to touch herself as he kept sending jolts of pleasure with every thrust of his tongue and every caress of his thumb, and the sight of him eating her out would have been enough to push her over the edge, but the hand wrapped around his thick, throbbing cock pumping relentlessly was the thing that made her eyes roll back and explode as the rope inside her snapped. Her legs gave out, falling over the edge of the bed and finding their place on Lorcan's shoulders.

Her mouth gaped open in a silent scream as her whole body trembled in pleasure as wave after wave surged through her and her back arched so wide she broke away from the bed.

Lorcan didn't stop touching her, but he pulled his mouth away from her, still massaging her clit until Elide was too sensitive and with a groan she tightened a hand around his wrist to push him away. She heard him grunt and then moan, but she didn't have the strength to lower her gaze to what she knew very well was a cumming Lorcan.

She was breathing hard, one hand on her stomach to rest and the other still clasped around his.

Every now and then her body was shaken by a spasm, but she managed to calm down after a few minutes and close her aching legs. She rolled onto her side, letting go of his wrist.

Lorcan was also breathless and kept his forehead pressed against the edge of the bed.

Elide felt a tinge of pain tingle through her heart. She pulled herself up just enough to look into his face, "Lor?"

She reached out a hand towards him, placing it on his shoulder, at which he raised his head and looked at her with bright eyes and an open mouth, "Are you alright?"

She nodded, smiling at him and falling back into the now unmade blankets, "Never been better."

He chuckled deeply, moving from his position on the floor and causing at least two joints in his legs to crack.

The moment Elide saw he'd managed to get at least halfway out of his trousers, her throat went dry. And her brain forgot how to talk when she noticed he wasn't wearing boxers. Elide knew Lorcan often went commando, but seeing it with her own eyes was a different story. Seeing him, was a completely different thing from feeling him against her.

She swallowed. She'd intended to scold him for taking all the fun out of both of them by touching himself, but maybe Elide had overestimated her abilities, because the idea of having to give Lorcan a blowjob when his dick was like this-

"If you keep looking at me like that I'm not sure I can keep the promise I made to myself," he murmured in a serious voice.

Elide looked up at his face and sighed as she saw his eyes as dark as before, just moments before he pulled off his clothes completely and lay down beside her on the other side of the bed.

It didn't take her even half a second to wrap herself around him and press her body against Lorcan's side as he draped an arm around her shoulders.

His fingertips began to trace idle lines on her shoulder as he had done only half an hour before on the couch in front of everyone.

A satisfied and surprised laugh came out of her. Lorcan put his hand under her chin and when she looked up at him he had an equally satisfied smile on his lips. He pushed her head towards his, causing their mouths to collide in a brief kiss that was chaste in comparison to what they had just done and when they broke away, Elide frowned, "I didn't like you touching yourself without giving me a chance to enjoy this in turn."

The corner of Lorcan's mouth turned up, "Sorry honey, but seeing you naked like that on the bed for me has been my dream for a little too long and I was sure I would have come in zero time if I had let you touch me. It would have been embarrassing." he whispered, caressing her cheek.

Elide tried to suppress a smile, failing miserably. She decided to tease him a little, "I thought I heard you say you lasted long in bed, didn't you?"

He chuckled, "You know it's hard to rely on stamina when the girl in question is you."

At those words she felt a particularly strong surge of affection for the boy who had given her one of the most intense orgasms she had ever received and she pushed herself closer against him, making her bare breasts feel against his skin.

Lorcan turned slightly towards her, looking into her face.

He looked so relaxed.

She knew he was.

But there was something that didn't allow her to be one hundred percent.

She fixed her eyes on his, placing a hand on his chest, over his heart. The hand Lorcan had held behind his head until now came to rest on hers, squeezing her fingers tight.

Elide took a shuddering breath, "Now what?"

Lorcan suppressed a yawn, "I guess it's not a problem if we stay here and sleep-"

"No, I'm saying," she interrupted him, looking away, "what do we do now? You and I." then, realizing that question couldn't have been more vague, she closed her eyes, mustering courage, "What are we now?"

"Whatever you want us to be, Ellie," he said softly, starting to stroke her hand, "But I want one thing to be clear. And I'd like you to look at me while I say it."

Elide opened her eyes, lifting her chin slightly so she could see him better, and gave him a small smile, which he immediately returned.

"What is it?"

Lorcan's gaze moved to her lips, before returning to her eyes, "I like you, Elide."

She stopped breathing.

"I really like you and whatever you decide to do with me, I'll respect that, but I also want to say that if you don't want anything exclusive, then this will have been a one night stand and won't happen again."

Although she also wanted exactly the same things, hearing him say them made her chest hurt, because the prospect of not being able to have him again so soon after just finally finding him hurt.

She cleared her throat, nodding, "I like you too." she whispered, noticing his eyes widen a little, "And I don't want you going with any other girls besides me if we decide to continue with this." Lorcan nodded, agreeing with her, then continued, "If you don't want a relationship right away, I can understand that, but know that I do." she felt herself blush as she finally admitted the truth out loud, looking away, "And I know our situation isn't the best with being roommates and all-"

"Our situation is perfect," Lorcan corrected her, moving a strand of hair out of her face.

She looked at him again, seeing him smile.

"Ellie, you're my best friend. The person who knows me the most out of all the people I consider important. We already live together, we won't have to fight over who to stay at every night. We won't have to go on any awkward first dates and the sex seems phenomenal to me," a lump formed in her throat as she tried to keep her breathing regular, but found it difficult when he smiled at her more broadly, "I waited months for you to see that the playlists were all declarations and hoped that after Friday night something would change. For once I won."

Elide figured he was talking about what had happened at the club, but if she was going to be completely honest... "I was the one who showed you my tits twice, letting you know I wanted something more. Don't take all the credit."

Lorcan burst out laughing and it sounded more scratchy than usual, "I'm sorry, you're right."

He kissed her again and again, and held her close as he ran his fingers through her hair and murmured the words to a love song, and before long she fell asleep in his arms, making Lorcan the happiest man in the world.

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[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.

[watermelonlovershigh]

Bisexual Harry (MILD SMUT w/ MOSTLY FLUFF)

ATTENTION- THIS IS STRICKLY FICTIONAL (NOT REAL). I'M FULLY AWARE THAT HARRY HAS NOT CAME OUT AS BISEXUAL AND WANTS TO BE UNLABLED. I ENJOY BI HARRY FANFICS BUT THERE ARE NOT MANY OUT THERE SO I DECIDED TO WRITE ONE. ALSO THE TRAITS I WILL BE CONCIDERING AS BISEXUAL TRAITS ARE FULLY DEPENDENT ON THE INDIVIDUAL. I HATE STEREOTYPING. JUST KEEP IN MIND THAT JUST BECAUSE HARRY DOES THESE THINGS IN THIS STORY THAT IT DOESN'T MAKE SOMEONE BISEXUAL OR EVEN GAY. LASTLY I'D LIKE TO SAY THAT I'M NOT BISEXUAL MYSELF BUT THE IDEA OF BEING WITH A MAN WHO IS, IS A TURN ON. NOT IN A FETISH TYPE WAY. JUST THE VULNERABILITY AND OPENNESS OF ENJOYING EITHER WOMEN OR MEN IS INCREADIBE TO ME. THANK YOU AND I HOPE YOU ENJOY.

Harry told me early on into our relationship that he was bisexual. He was so nervous that I would leave him, but it just made me fall more in love with him. He told me late one night about 6 months into dating, on his couch. The second he told me, Harry broke down into real raw tears. The first time I'd seen Harry actually cry. Yeah I'd seen him cry during sappy movies but this was so much more than that. These tears had fear in them. Fear that I would leave him. They had vulnerability in them for being so open. But also a weight was lifted off his chest, just happy to tell me. I held Harry in my arms and cried with him, telling him how much I loved him and that this doesn't change anything. That I loved him just as much.

Only a few people in Harrys life knew he was bisexual. His close family. His close friends. That was it. If it got out in the media, the internet would have gone wild. Of course there were many rumors about his sexuality. Most of them being that he's gay. For the longest time he actually thought he might be gay. He had a lot of 'gay tendencies': painted nails, feminine clothes, pearl necklaces. But he also had very 'mainly tendencies' like watching football and drinking beer with the lads. Harry was just so conflicted all his life. Not knowing what he was. That's until the age of 18. One of his school friends came out as bisexual and that's when it clicked for him. He liked both male and females and he was okay with that. He excepted that part of him. He was more worried about what others would say or think. His family was very supportive. His friends were too. They never treated Harry differently knowing that they were straight and he was sexually attracted to them. Well not so much them specifically because they were more like brothers, but the male species as a whole.

Being in sexual relationships were on a new level of fear for Harry. Fear that when he was having sex with a guy, that the guy would try and convince him he's actually just gay. Or the fear that any women he had sex with would say he wasn't manly enough for them. Needless to say, Harry kept his sexuality a secret from most of his one night stands or short term relationships. He just didn't feel the need to tell them unless they asked specifically if he was bi or not.

Me and Harry meet at a local club in London a few years back. He was with his bandmates at the time. I was by myself because my boyfriend of 2 years just broke up with me. I was devastated and needed to escape reality. That meant drink until my body went numb. Unfortunately for me though, I wasn't that much of a drinker so my body rejected the alcohol pretty fast. I stumbled onto the London streets trying to get fresh air but ended up puking my guts out in a near by bin. Harry just so happened to be outside at that moment and saw the whole thing before his eyes. He rushed over to me and pulled my hair back to prevent more vomit from getting in it. Then he asked if I was alright and who I was with. I told him I came there alone so he insisted I come back to his place. Because my brain was fuzzy from the alcohol, I didn't hesitate one bit. Harry set up his guest room for me and helped me to bed that night. Something I'm forever grateful for. If it wasn't for him, I could've been kidnapped and raped by a stranger on the streets. When I woke up the next day, I realized who's house I was in. All of the music awards on the shelf in the room I stayed in gave it away. I was never a big fan of One Direction, no reason in particular, so I didn't act like a fangirl would have. Before I left his house, he gave me his number to call if I ever needed someone to talk to. Considering he was an international popstar and all, he sure was the most genuine person I'd ever meet. Taking care of a complete stranger and even giving them his phone number. I never thought I'd actually call him though. Or even see him again, but about a week later, I ran into him at a local coffee shop and we started talking form there. The rest was history.

We hung out all the time. He invited me to a few One Direction concerts. Even had sex a few times. Amazing sex I might add. It truly was great. Even though at the time, I had to remain secret from the public. More so said by Harry then his management. Mainly to keep me safe and out of the media knowing how private I liked to be. Three months of seeing each other and he asked me to be his girlfriend. I was thrilled. Then six months into our relationship, Harry realized how serious our relationship was becoming. That we both had strong feeling for each other. So that's when Harry decided to tell me he was bisexual. On his couch. Late one night. He wanted to get it out of the way so he didn't have to hide that part of himself with me. So he could be himself around me. If I excepted him that was and of course I did.

Approximately two years after dating, Harry purposed. He was basically shitting bricks the whole time, but he did it. I didn't hesitate one second before I said yes. We were in love. At this point, the media had found me and Harry out. Most of his fans adored me. Some said our relationship was fake. And others just flat out said I was keeping Harry closeted, not allowing him to be gay. But I knew the truth. I knew he was bisexual, not gay. I never doubted his sexuality one bit. Especially how he devoured my body when we made love. Any gay person would probably gag at the sight of a women's pussy. Not Harry. It was his favorite part of my body. A year after Harry filmed the movie Dunkirk (2017), we got married. It was a small wedding. Just close family and friends invited. It was perfect.

Now here we are in the current year of 2021 and we're still going strong. A few fights here and there, but because both Harry and I have too big of hearts, we always feel bad after fighting and immediately apologize to one another. The media had tried to split us up multiple times but it's never been successful. Our love for each other is too strong and everlasting.

Just because Harry is in a happy, loving heterosexual relationship, doesn't mean he feels completely secure about his sexuality all the time. In the beginning of our relationship, Harry tried to completely throw away any 'bisexual' tendencies he had even though he knew I supported him. For instance, there was many times Harry wanted to paint his nails but didn't. Or would refrain from gushing over sexy guys in movies we watched together. That's when I noticed he was becoming depressed. He stopped writing music. He would disengage in activities we tried to do together. Even pushed me away when I tried to have sex with him. I felt hopeless. Until one morning I asked him what was wrong, and he spilled everything. How he tries so hard to suppress the bisexual side of his character for me. For our relationship. Harry explained that he had the desire to paint his nails vibrant colors and wanted to wear feminine clothes sometimes. Something that was particularly hard for Harry to confess to me was how he even wanted to try anal. On me or me with a strap on fucking him. Right away I made us an appointment to get our nails done at a salon. Then I told him he could wear a trash bag and he'd still be the most beautiful mainly man I'd ever seen. Lastly, I grabbed my laptop and went online shopping for female strap ons, letting Harry pick the girth and size he wanted. Yes I was a little nervous to actually fuck him, but he assured me he would help me out every step of the way. As for anal on me, I mentioned how I would be nervous but how I also trusted him. Trusted him enough to penetrate me anally. That I knew he would be extra careful with me.

Needless to say, I made Harry more confident. Confident in his sexuality. I got him to come out as bisexual to the public. I let him explore his bisexuality in the bedroom. Though of course he still worshiped my pussy. We had weekly appointments to get our nails painted. Harry even wore a dress out to a date night one night. He was super scared and on edge the whole night but I kept whispering in his ear how I couldn't wait to rip that dress off of him and fuck him in the ass until he cried out of pleasure.

I honestly loved that Harry was bisexual. It was almost like a turn on for me. He was both a gym buff and my little princess. He had thick arm muscles and toned abs, as well as pink nails and pearl necklaces. Anytime he mentioned how hot a guy on tv was, we could gush over him together. Or how sensitive and vulnerable he was at times. A lot of guys hold in their emotions, thinking men can't express their feelings, but not Harry. If he felt the need to cry, he would. Right in front of me. It could be triggered by a sad movie or a animal abuse commercial. Also, on the rare occasions he asks for it, I would fuck him with the strap on in his mouth. Though a rubber penis didn't quite taste like the real thing, salty mixed with sweat, he loved to deepthroat it anyways. Watching him choke and gag around the fake penis made my pussy drip. We even bought a strap on dildo that had a vibrator on the back side of it. That way every time the fake cock would enter his mouth, the vibrator would stimulate me clit, giving me pleasure as well.

No matter how much the media tried to convince Harry he was in fact gay and didn't actually like women, he would ignore the rude comments and prove to me everyday that he in fact loved me. Me as a women. Loved my smile. Loved me eyes. Loved the way my boobs bounced while having sex. Often grabbing them in his hands and stimulating my nipples. Loved the way my tight pussy felt around his dick. Or the way my sweet juices tasted on his tongue when he ate me out. Yes he loved dick. Yes he loved balls. Yes he loved being railed to death from behind. But he also liked vagina and he loved boobs. Harry wanted to make love to me and get me pregnant. Watch my stomach grow. Be there to hold my hand when I deliver the baby. Help change diapers at 3 am when I'm to tired to do so. Teach our kids to love and respect everyone and be themselves. Be open to our kids about his sexuality. Give them knowledge on bisexuality and educate them on the matter. Instead of assuming they are straight by asking his future son if he has a girlfriend yet or asking his daughter if she has a boyfriend, Harry will ask if the have a partner or fancy anyone in particular. Love his children for who they are or who they want to become. Be a role model for them. And live happily ever after with me, his supportive wife, by his side.

MASTERLIST

[secretobsessionstuff]

I was just thinking about how sweet madix & riley, and alexi & micahs friendship. and it had me thinking....maybe would you write something where madix & riley are both laid up in bed with the stomach flu, riley being worse off. madix tries his best to comfort an emotional and sick riley, but it’s hard when he feels so bad himself. cue a quick phone call to alexi & micah to ask if they would mind bringing them a few supplies and perhaps some help. absolutely no pressure of course! <3

Ahh thank you so much for the lovely request! I’m really happy with this one :) 

-----------------------------

Madix does not consider himself a sympathetic puker. That’s why when Riley threw up into the bucket for the third time that night, Madix knew it wasn’t empathy that made his own stomach turn.

Riley shivered and spat into the bucket, feeling horrendous and entirely sick of this stomach bug. No pun intended because he was in no mood to be making jokes. All day, his head had been either buried in a bucket or hovering over the toilet. Currently, he preferred the bucket because it allowed him to sit on the couch. It was nice to be able to lean against Madix and have his shoulders rubbed.

Swallowing a sudden wave of nausea, Madix handed Riley a cloth to wipe his mouth. Riley reached for it, but stopped mid-way. His throat bobbed as his face got even paler. The boy still had one more retch in him. Madix, seeing this, brought the bucket back to his lap. He turned his head to the side so as to not trigger his own belly anymore.

With nothing left in his stomach to throw up, Riley dry heaved. His whole body quivered against Madix from the force of it. He might also have been shaking from the sobs that racked his frame. “Madix…make it stop,” he begged, with snot and tears running down his face.

“Oh love, I’m sorry.” Under normal circumstances, Madix might have said that he would gladly take the pain for himself, but he guessed it would be redundant at this point.

Along with the sadness, Madix also guessed that Riley was getting frustrated with this virus. He hadn’t been able to eat anything all day without it coming back up. Then again, they didn’t have much food in the house that wouldn’t unsettle his stomach. They were running low on supplies, and Madix was running low on energy.

He started to suspect that perhaps Riley wasn’t the only victim of this illness when the same nausea hit his system. This was earlier that day when he was trying to get Riley to eat something, meanwhile the food that he put in his own stomach was sitting uneasily. The nausea kicked in then, and he stupidly decided not to upset his stomach anymore by drinking water. No one had been nagging at him to stay hydrated, but now he wished there could be. Riley was much too upset and sick to tell – not that Madix could blame him. Still, he had to tell Riley something, before he threw up right then and there. That would absolutely not make the situation better.

Riley groaned and took the cloth to wipe his mouth. He was indeed frustrated. “I still feel nauseous…” he mumbled while hugging his stomach. “I hate this.”

“Believe me,” Madix said without making eye contact, “I know how you feel.”

“What do you mean?”

Madix rubbed the back of his neck. “I uh…don’t feel so hot either.”

Riley’s eyes grew wide. This wasn’t happening. This wasn’t happening. Normally he could deal with Madix being sick if he was already sick himself. But the human brain is a clusterfuck of an organ, and sometimes it cannot be expected to act predictably. Sometimes your brain tells you that everything sucks, and that crying is the only solution, and that Madix being sick is the worst possible thing to happen right now. Who was going to take care of us?? How would we deal with a sick Madix while we��re sick?? Because apparently Riley’s brain thought of itself and Riley as two separate entities.

“Are you going to throw up?” Riley asked with an unsteady voice.

Madix immediately regretted telling Riley how he felt. He watched his boyfriend’s eyes grow ten sizes, and watched his chest heave frantically. He guessed the combination of having a fever and feeling terrible made the perfect recipe for panic.

Before Madix could lie about needing to throw up, Riley gagged into his hand. The emotions and nausea became too much, and his stomach was back at it again. Luckily Madix shoved the bucket under his chin just in time to catch the bitter yellow bile that spilled past his lips.

Without thinking about it, Madix stood up from the couch after handing over the bucket. Seeing the thick bile come from his boyfriend’s mouth was too much for his own stomach to handle. Saliva was quickly coating his tongue. “Ry, I have to…” he mumbled with a hand over his mouth. “…I’ll be right back.”

Madix felt bad for leaving Riley in the middle of vomiting, but he desperately needed to do the same. His legs led him to the bathroom where he fell to his knees in front of the toilet. The remnants of his lunch rushed up his throat and splattered into the bowl. A wet belch interrupted the stream, but was soon followed by another wave of vomit. Madix squeezed his eyes shut involuntarily, wetting his eyelashes with tears. His knuckles turned white as he gripped the rim.

His stomach gurgled loudly. He felt like the organ was getting revenge for being forced to wait so long. He wrapped his arms around his aching belly and moaned. It was hell, and now he knew how Riley truly felt. Madix couldn’t help but despair at the thought of going through the same things Riley had all morning. And he would need to do it alone.

In his hazy feverish state, Madix had a thought. The fact that his fried mind was able to come up with a thought was shocking, but there it was.

His phone! Where was his phone? He needed to make a call.

But first he needed to gag over the toilet bowl for another few minutes. For now, it seemed like his stomach just wanted to be an asshole and make him think that he was going to puke. The threat of puking never disappeared, but soon Madix got tired of waiting. And fuck, he could hear Riley calling to him from the living room. Riley’s voice sounded thick from having just brought up another sludge of bile.

Madix wanted to go to him, to rub his back and tell him that everything was going to be okay. But if Riley felt anything like how Madix was feeling, he didn’t think that anything would ever be okay. And guess what? What if Madix wanted someone to rub his back? He wanted someone to tell him that everything would be okay.  

That’s when he remembered the call that he was going to make. The phone was in his pocket, but even that felt too far for him to reach. Slowly, Madix propped his back up against the tub and called Micah. He put it on speaker so that he didn’t have to hold the phone to his ear.

Micah answered on the first ring, but could only hear heavy breathing on the other end. “Madix? Are you there?

Madix finally got the energy to respond. He was weak. “Can you…come over?”

“Madix? I can’t hear you very well. You sound all echo-ish.” Micah’s voice was so loud as it reverberated in the bathroom. “Are you okay?”

“No ‘m really sick. Riley too.” Madix felt sweat dripping down his forehead. “Please come over.” He hoped that Micah could understand his messy speech.

There was ruffling on Micah’s end before, “oh okay, okay. Just hang tight. We’ll be right there.”

“Wait…Bring stuff.”

“Bring stuff?”

“We’re…dehy…” he was going to say ‘dehydrated’ but there were some technical difficulties in his brain. The hardware was overheating. He found a solution. “…thirsty.”

                                                      …

With some deductive skills, Micah had a pretty good guess for what was ailing his friends. The echo of the phone call easily told him that Madix was in a bathroom. Dehydration plus camping out in a bathroom were not hard puzzle pieces to fit together.

He and Alexi stopped by the store for Gatorade, soup, and anything else needed to fight a stomach virus. While Alexi debated over which flavour of sport drink to get, Micah rushed him along. “Just pick one! Madix sounded horrible on the phone.”

“What if they don’t like the yellow kind?”

“Oh my god, let’s just go!”

“Fine…” Alexi muttered under his breath, “but if they hate it, it’s your fault.”

Micah accepted full responsibility if they didn’t like the drink, and raced for the checkout. They threw the bags into the car and off they went to help their friends once again.

Upon entering, they immediately found Riley sleeping on the couch with the bucket on the floor. It was still full of bile because clearly neither of the sick boys had the energy to clean it.

While Alexi placed the groceries in the kitchen and began to open the drinks, Micah crouched by Riley’s head. His skin was deathly pale. Micah woke him up with a light shake.

Riley jumped a little as he awoke from his restless sleep. He rubbed his eyes, not understanding what he was seeing. He could swear that Micah was in his house for some reason. And he was right. “Micah?”

“Hey Ry. How are you feeling?”

Riley looked around and spotted Alexi as well. His brow furrowed in confusion. “What are you doing here?”

“Madix called us,” Alexi answered while carrying over a bottle of Gatorade. “Can you sit up and take a sip of this for me?”

Riley did sit up and accepted the bottle. His mouth was insanely dry, but that’s not what he cared about in that moment. “Oh my god Madix. Go help him!” He looked worriedly between the two boys who just showed up. “I know he’s been throwing up in the bathroom, but I just – I couldn’t… I –”

“Shh, slow down,” Micah said softly. “It’s not your fault. I’ll go check on him right now.” As he left, Micah heard Riley ask if they brought any other colour of Gatorade. Yellow wasn’t his favourite.

Micah was scared that he was going to find Madix passed out in a puddle of his own vomit. That was not the case. He found Madix drenched in sweat, not passed out but barely lucid. Madix didn’t even react when Micah came into the bathroom. His head was resting on the toilet seat and it looked like he was fighting another wave of nausea. The bowl was full of half-digested stomach contents. Madix whimpered quietly to himself.

Micah slowly sat down, and immediately put his hand on Madix’s damp back. “Oh Maddy, look at you.” The heat from his back was astounding.

Madix did not open his eyes, but his shoulders lost a bit of their tension. “Micah?”

“Yeah, I’m here.” Micah’s chest ached when the boy reached out his hand to hold onto him. He was usually only very touchy with Alexi, but Madix looked like he needed it to survive. Micah scooted closer and brushed a hand over Madix’s cheek. Of course, he found it burning. Normally, Micah would feel very awkward touching a friend’s face but there was something about Madix’s desperation that made it okay. The way Madix leaned entirely into the touch made Micah forget about any apprehensions.

Madix squinted from the bright light. He hadn’t realized how long his eyes had been closed for. He also hadn’t realized how much he needed the presence of someone else. It was like drowning in dark water. No one around to pull him from the waves that kept pushing him under. No one to pierce the thick darkness where he found himself.

Then suddenly a lifeline.

A choked sob came from Madix. “I feel horrible, Micah. I can’t stop throwing up.”

“I know, I know.” Micah rubbed his back harder. He tried to hold back his own emotions. He had never seen Madix this vulnerable.

“I – I couldn’t…. st-stay with Riley.” Tears streaked down Madix’s face as he cried and struggled to catch his breath. “It hurts…my belly.”

Micah didn’t say anything. He just continued to let Madix know he was there. He wanted to let Madix be completely selfish for once in his life, God knows he deserves it.

If Madix were lucid enough to hear what he was saying, he would have told himself to stop making such a big deal about a little stomach-ache. The good news was that he wasn’t lucid enough, and this provided him with the outlet he needed. Somehow, his head found Micah’s shoulder and he rested it there while he feverishly rambled.

Micah let this go one for as long as he could, but he had to stop it eventually. Madix was hiccupping and crying, and generally working himself up to the point of making himself sick all over again. When the hiccupping turned into empty heaves, Micah spoke. “Okay, hon, you have to let yourself breathe. Can you breathe with me?”

And Micah took a long inhale, making sure that Madix did the same. Through sniffles and hiccups, he copied the rise and fall of Micah’s chest. “That’s it, Mads. Again.”

The two of them took another deep breath in, and Madix’s breathing slowly became less shaky. Micah smiled at the progress. “That’s it, Madix. Everything is going to be okay.”

[junnibook]

Stockholm Syndrome

Oh sangwoo multi write.

A/n: for the love of gods read the warnings. Minors do not enter. This is just the first ine I hope it gets better over time and while I fix it up.

Also I’m back.

Part 1/?

Warnings: kidnap, noncon , dubcon, drugging, abuse (mostly to bum), sangwoo, bullying, Stockholm syndrome, murder, killing stalking, NSFW NSFW NSFW, knife play, rope play.

There is this guy, to everyone else he’s hot and cool, but to you he’s big and scary. 

Your first encounter happened when you started college, originally you planned on asking someone for help but your nerves told you otherwise. He was there, watching you, you were like a snow bunny, in a forest of wolves. You came in looking so innocent.

How could he not want to be near you. 

You had a white dress that showed absolutely no curves, it hung off your body as if you didn’t have one at all. 

He adored you, from afar, he didn’t want to ruin the look of confusion on your face just yet, but he knew if he didn’t go up to you than someone else would and he didn’t want that.  He made sure to place his best smile on just for you, you should be lucky no one has gotten this pasific smile before. 

“Hey, lost there huh” he made sure to be careful and lean over your small body just a little. He didn’t want to scare his little bunny just yet. He thought you would look up at him, blush than look away. He was wrong, the minute you looked up at him, your stomach dropped, he looked like a normal guy to everyone else but to you he looked like a monster ready to attack you at any given second. 

You didn’t blush, far from that. You were scared and although he liked the look of absolute fear on your face, the look wouldn’t help his reputation here, so he backed away.

“Didn’t mean to scare you, im sangwoo. Did you need help finding your way”  you thought that maybe you shouldn’t judge people. So you returned his smile, even if your lip quivered and your palms get sweaty.  

“ it’s okay, im f/n,  l/n” your voice is like angels singing to him, your first mistake was one, telling him your name rather than two, showing him your schedule because not only did he get your classes but he also got your address. 

Anyways , he told you where to go glad that you actually have a class with him. He’d let you find out on your own. 

He watched you, even if his friends saw him. He couldn’t help but picture you in his basement, nice and pretty for him, the look of fear he craves from you, your mouth gagged showing off how pretty your lips are, he even wants to see your face stained with tears, beg for him he’ll love it if you be geg for him to let you go. With such a sweet voice you have, he loves to listen to you cry out for hours. 

Fuck- 

He needs to calm down before he gets TO excited. You just didn’t know what he wanted to do with and your littel innocent fucking body. You haven’t been with anyone on campus or off HE MADE SURE.  just wait until he has you. 

He promised to take good care of you. 

~a month later~ 

He didn’t like your new friends, in fact he hated them. They Are so touchy and they make you go out at night to drink. Making you wear a skimpy little dress, then leaving you alone by yourself, letting some guy get his fill of you. 

Your hopeless, if he wasn’t there who knows what some guy would’ve done to you, they could’ve kidnapped you before he got the chance too and he refuses that. He would have taken you while you were drunk and barely standing in his grip. But your friend picked you up. 

A guy. 

Who was that guy? Did you have something going on with him? He seemed worried about you. But why would he need to worry if sangwoo was there to help you. You don’t think he’s a bad guy do you. He just wants to make sure you're safe, the world is too dangerous for you. That’s why he has to keep you from the world. 

-- 

He’s tried everything to get you over his home willingly, but you're a stubborn little pain in the ass aren’t you. Lucky for you he had a little issue at home the same day he planned to take you home with him.  

He was pissed, even broke ankles and killed the girl he already had in his basement. He wanted you to get to know her, maybe the two of you could bond. But no, some stalker had to come and ruin everything, you can wait for him can’t you. 

He just needs a little time to think about how he’s going to get you to him. It’s harder since you're being a little bit of a bitch, did your new friends make you think that you're better than everyone, make you feel like you are so above everyone that you can’t talk to  anyone. He doesn’t like that, you're starting to piss him off, he didn’t want to have to force his way in but now he has no choice. 

He followed you today, all he wants to know is who the hell is that guy you're walking with. Your smiling at him, who the fuck did you think you were. You really did it, you brought the real him out way too early. 

He waited for you to go to a bathroom before he walked over to the guy, “you must really like the risk huh” sangwoo slid over to him by the bar, taking note of how many empty shot glasses you had in complaining about what the guy you were with had. “What do you mean.?” the guy asked, a simple lie is all he needed to do, wasn’t his first time. “I walk by her highschool everyday, i didn’t know she had such a boyfriend, ya know fifteen and dating a what 25, 26? '' the guy had a look on his face that held so much guilt. 

It didn’t take long for the guy to leave, blocking all numbers of whatnots.

You came out the bathroom wobbling back to the crowds, you're so hopeless, barely standing on your own. You poor little thing, don’t worry he’s here to make sure nothing happens to you. 

He walked up to you, catching you as you tripped, “ mm im sorry haha” you couldn’t see the face of the person who helped you, the lights were turned off but the smell of this person was so familiar, you couldn’t put your finger on it. Your head pounding and your heart racing, everything around you made you feel happy, even if it was fuzzy. You felt free, so no you didn’t question the man who walked you out the club. 

This was freedom, free to do what you pleased, you liked it. 

The cool air from outside made your body feel good but in a bad way, your stomach felt tight. “ C'mon let's get you home” you froze, finally looking up, seeing a head of dyed blonde hair than familiar eyes, the eyes of you wished to never see again this close. “Sangwoo?” you questioned, maybe it was the alcohol that made you see him, you wanted to believe that he wasn’t there, but he was, his stupid smirk made it real just like how his hands placing themselves on your lower back. 

Your throat burned and you gagged lightly before releasing everything in your stomach on him and his shoes. “Fucking gross” you leaned back trying to get away from him, but he wasn’t going to let you leave, he’s already holding back from hurting you so openly, you couldn’t fight back your body would let you. You tried to reach out but your body failed you terribly. 

He of course loved your struggles , everything about it made him happy. To have you so close to him being so close to having you in his basement, if he wasn’t covered in your puke he would’ve been even more happy. 

Bringing you home wasn’t an issue, you didn’t even know your name right. When he got there he took his stained clothes off and dragged your body down to the basement. “ hey, bum. I brought you a little friend” he dropped you on the floor to look at yoonbum, who scanned over you in shock, you sat next to him in class. 

He gasped, does that mean that sangwoo was going to get rid of yoonbum. No but he didn’t need to know that. 

Sangwoo didn’t waste any time before taking off your clothes seeing you in your matching set. “ hm i could never tell what her body was like when she wore her clothes all lose” he was impressed running his hands on your sides before taking your bra off and chaining you to the pole with bum.  He stood up watching you before disappearing stairs. 

---- 

You woke up to groaning, your head pounding and your throat dry. Your body hurt from laying on a hard surface, did you sleep outside? This is what it felt like, you're cold and damped.  You tried to move but you couldn't because your ankle felt heavier than normal. It took you awhile but you finally realized that you're on the floor, naked- well you had panties. 

Your breathing picked up as you tried to look around. It’s too dark to actually see anything. You felt around screaming when you felt a body part move next to your hand. You started panting when you hear heavy footsteps above your head. You trembled hearing the door open, whincing as the light from upstairs hit your eyes. 

“ hm your awake” you felt your breathing pick up seeing the man walk down the stairs. “sangwoo?”

[hecksee]

Stained Flowers

Hi this is angsty af but im struggling right now so imma project onto fictional characters

Sorry @lumosinlove I like making Leo suffer

this is my entry for the @hpbrokenhearts ​ contest, i started out writing this when i was struggling, and tbh i still am, but it’s gotten a lot better. 

Much thanks to the wonderful @iswearimnotanaestheticgirl for editing this monstrosity. You wrecked carnage on it, but it helped so much and I love this end result so much. 

Thank you so much to @peggyrose19 and @marauderss-hp for looking this over and giving me suggestions! 

This is probably inaccurate but I don’t know anything about hockey, and this is fanfic so who cares about the accuracy. 

THIS COULD DEFINITELY BE TRIGGERING, PLEASE TAKE CARE OF YOURSELF

TW suicidal thoughts, suicide attempt, its got a TINY bit of spice sprinkled in (i would rate this teen probably, mature if i was being extra safe), major character death, stress, homophobia, one sided pining, hanakhai, vomiting, something thats sort of like a suicide note, and a shit load of angst

Read on A03 here

Leo knew he was screwed the moment he saw Finn O'Hara on the screen for the first time. He knew he was gonna fall hard. It didn't matter that they had never met or that Leo’s attraction was purely physical. He knew that he would want everything with Finn.

But then Leo started to fall deeper and deeper over time, time that was spent mostly spent obsessing over Finn. Only a few weeks after Leo saw Finn for the first time, it started.

Everybody knew about hanahaki. When someone felt unrequited love, a seed sprouted in their lungs. Nobody knew how or why the seed appeared but it was inevitable. 

The victim would start coughing up flower petals, and if their feelings grew, the flowers would grow larger until the victim couldn’t breath because their lungs were filled with nothing but blossoms.

There were only three things someone with hanahaki could do. The main solution was to surgically remove the flowers but have all feelings of love vanish. And some said it was impossible to ever love another person.

So Leo knew exactly what was going on when he started coughing up small yellow petals a few weeks after he first saw Finn on screen. 

But, over the next few months he learned to recognize the signs. The tingling in the back of his throat before he started coughing up the silky yellow petals. The itch in his left lung when people mentioned Finn O'Hara. The stabbing pain toward the left of his chest when his teammates threw around homophobic slurs and comments like beads at Marti Gras is nothing new, but now it's accompanied with a burning sensation in his lungs and bloody daffodils.

The daffodils. The fucking daffodils. He decided to look the meaning of the cheery flowers up one day. Unrequited love. After that Leo laughed humorlessly, and decided that hanahaki had a fucked up sense of humor.

Somehow, Leo made it through a full year while coughing up a mixture of blood and petals. He learned how to hide it, how to excuse himself from a situation, and how to choke the petals back down while playing. He made sure that nothing would impact his career, no matter how much longer he had left.

Leo feared that his time was almost up some days. On those days, he wondered Why was he alive? Why did only the left lung sting? Wouldn't it just be better to end it than to live through the constant pain?

He almost made it through a year keeping his hanahaki a secret. 

Well, almost. His mom walked in on him cleaning the daffodils smeared with red off the floor, and he had promptly broken down in tears.

He had ended up telling her everything, how he was gay, how he hated himself for it, how he sometimes thought it would be better to just end it all instead, who he loved and why.

His mom had made him tell his coach, insisting it was for the best. There had been a major fight between the coach and him. Leo was yelling and crying but standing his ground about how he needed to play. How playing was the only thing he was living for, damn it. Leo had ended up winning, so he kept playing. And just like before, he kept the hanahaki a secret from everyone, especially his team.

But then, he found out why only his left lung stung. Logan Tremblay. The latest player that was drafted to the Lions. He was newly minted, fresh from Harvard university. Short, broad, brunet, green eyed rookie Tremz. 

As soon as Logan stepped out onto the ice for the first time Leo felt that telltale sting. But it was on the right side of his chest for the first time. Fuck, I'm not having unrequited love from one person, but from two?! 

His right lung had irises. Royalty, the Fleur-De-Lis, France. Leo didn’t know how those things related to Logan but he could take a guess. Logan was French Canadian born and raised, that had to mean something. 

Leo’s life went on. Now he had double the work of fighting the flowers down. Two names instead of one. Leo could tell there was something between Fish and Logan. The intense stares they gave each other across the rink meant something. The tension between them one day had just disappeared. Leo saw something as Logan's hot temper reared up whenever Harzy got into a fight or got hurt. 

The signs grew. Rainbow tape on their sticks, posting LGBTQ+ supporting messages on the team Instagram; small things you’d need to look out for, or know exactly what they meant to know the significance. 

The real confirmation was when the official Lions Instagram posted the picture of Logan and Finn kissing at a pride parade, smudged bi flags painted on both of their cheeks. 

The caption read “We are aware of the homophobia in the league, however, two of our players aren’t willing to hide their relationship from the public anymore. Both Tremz and Harzy have our full support.” 

The moment he saw it, the feeling of petals started to itch in the back of Leo’s throat, but he gagged them back as he scrolled through the comments. They were filled with the expected bigotry and homophobia with the occasional biphobic comment. Yet scattered in were the kind comments, full of support, rays of sunshine on a raining day.

Leo started typing out a comment of his own, telling the happy couple how happy he was for them. But the lie was rancid in his head. The flowers Leo had been choking back came up in a wave of blood. 

Before Leo got hanahaki, the few dreams he had were filled with a faceless man. One that would kiss him and fuck him, but now, now there were two men. And they had faces. 

Finn O'Hara and Logan Tremblay haunted Leo's dreams in the best way possible, more nights than not. Sweet soft kisses, hands tangled in auburn or brown hair, gently worshiping the hard planes and angles that came from a lifelong dedication to hockey were commonplace in Leo's dreams. 

In stark contrast, some nights were filled with sloppy, urgent kisses, nails scratching on backs, and a pure need for release. But the dreams would always end, and Leo was left with the burning pain of self loathing building up in his throat before the flowers would make themselves known.

During this dream, Leo had been on fire all night, and it was thanks to him that the team had been led to victory. So here he was with his boyfriends, celebrating. 

Leo leaned up to give Finn a soft kiss before turning onto his side and beginning to kiss Logan's neck. Finn had started to ruin Leo and didn't stop until Leo had hit the peak of his pleasure.

However, the aftermath of Leo's pleasure was slowly but surely turning into pain. Suddenly the metallic tang of blood was clogging his throat and the familiar smooth petals were filling his mouth. 

The flowers and blood were dripping out of his mouth, and seeping into the white bed sheets. Even worse was that Finn and Logan seemed unsurprised.  no, they were almost happy. Their gentle murmurings of praise turned into cold raucous laughter. In between the harsh laughter they told him how stupid he was, how he was a nobody, how they would never love him.

As the flowers only got worse, coming up in waves and mingled with the tears that were rolling down his face, Finn and Logan vanished. Then he was falling, falling, falling. 

He woke with a start, his heart pounding in his chest, lungs gasping for air in between choking sobs; lying in a combination of petals and blood. His face was sticky with tears and warm, wet blood, and a few stray yellow and white-ish purple petals stuck to his skin. The only indicator that Leo's dream wasn't all bad was the stickiness in his underwear. But the worst part was that he was alone, stuck with only fantasies, once again.

The next day, Leo knew that practice would be bad. Even though yesterday his team was idolizing the Lions, they sure as hell wouldn’t be idolizing them right now. Practice was full of his teammates throwing around a myriad of slurs. The locker-room was even worse, where the coach wasn’t there to monitor their comments. 

Leo fidgeted with his bracelet, uncomfortable with the comments that were flying around, with the flowers edging up his throat. He didn’t remember what happened next. 

One minute Leo’s fidgeting with his bracelet, the next he’s yelling. Yelling about how people aren’t judged by their sexuality, how hell, maybe there even was a gay person in the room! To that he was obviously asked if he was the gay one, to which, he responded yes. Leo stormed out of the room to a soundtrack, suppressing the flowers fighting their way up his throat as soundtrack of cruel laughter and biting words rang around the room, just like the ones in his dream. 

The next day he dreaded going to practice. He knows he won’t be welcome on the team anymore, so what’s the point of going?

Leo ended up just texting his old coach that he was resigning. His team broadcasted the fact that he’s gay on their Instagram. Now Leo’s the target of the myriad of hate that Finn and Leo faced. It made him sick to his stomach. Seconds later, he was puking into the toilet. No flowers this time, but still unpleasant. 

He still walked with dragging steps to the rink and practiced, of course. He didn’t want to lose his skills when he attempts to go pro. Trying to ignore the fact that he knows no one will take him now. 

Out of the blue, three days after Leo outed himself, his phone rings shrilly. Marlene McKinnon. The Lions announcer. Why was she calling him?

Marlene asked him to play for the Lions because he had great potential. Leo hesitated. Did she not know that he was gay? He pensively inquired about his sexuality, how would that impact his place on the team? 

To his surprise, Marlene told him it wouldn’t influence anything. Leo was shocked, but in the happy way. Then she asked if he had any health conditions. Just like the thing about his sexuality, Leo hesitated. Eventually he nodded and said yes. 

It’s hanahaki, he told her in a slow voice, but it doesn’t impact my playing.

Fucking lie. 

Marlene was silent for a moment but then put him on hold with some shaky words. 5 minutes later, she agrees to let him play, on the condition that his hanahaki doesn’t get worse, and if it does, he needs to have them removed. Leo agreed, and suddenly, Leo was going professional. 

Sure, Leo was worried about becoming a Lion; his subjects of affection were there and they were in a happy relationship. But over time, and many, many practices filled with words thrown at O’Hara and Tremblay, he had learned to choke back the petals. 

After a few months, the day came where Leo was leaving. With many tears, and a lot of goodbyes, Leo left for Gryffindor. After a couple long flights, and a short taxi ride, Leo stepped out of the car to Hogwarts. 

Inside the rink, he was greeted with the signature smell of a hockey arena, he couldn’t quite describe it, but it was pleasant, and reminded Leo of home. 

In a blink, he was bombarded with maroon and gold, hugs and welcoming words. When he turned his head from the excitement, he saw them. Finn and Logan, standing back with Pascal Dumais, who he was going to move in with. 

After meeting everyone and flipping out while Finn and Logan give him a hug while swallowing down the familiar liquid and petals that up, Leo was informed that he won’t be living with the Dumais’ after all. 

“You’ll be living with Finn and Logan, I hope that’s alright?”

Leo quickly excuses himself to the bathroom to let the mixture of flowers, blood, and bile out. 

But Leo ended up moving in with Fish and Tremz. However over the weeks, he formed a close bond with both Finn and Logan. Of course, he became closer with the rest of the team, Loops especially. Hell, Leo has a feeling that Loops knows what it feels like to love someone who will never love him back. 

But after Sirius and Loops get together, Leo knew that he’s the only one who will never get the privilege of having requited love. 

Leo was glad that he had managed to keep it a secret from the team. Well, there were some people he had to tell. After all, Remus was the team medic. Remus was keeping it a secret from the team and the public. But Remus didn’t know who was triggering Leo’s love. The only people who knew were Leo and his mother. 

Each practice where the two of them do anything lovey dovey, Leo needs to be excused while he chokes back the flowers that are bringing themselves up his throat. But his goalie face hadn't been developed over happy things, so he shoved his feelings back and forced himself to remain calm, pretending to support their relationship; which he did, of course he did, but Leo wished more than anything that he was there with them. Leo wishes he was there in between them, wishes he was the one holding hands with them, and sharing sweet soft kisses with them. 

Hell, more than once in the time when Leo was with the Lions he considered ending it all. The thoughts weren’t new, no, he’d been struggling with them since he had realized he was gay. But now, with the objects of Leo’s affection so close yet so far, he didn’t know if it would be worth living.

But then one day, about three years after the hanahaki had started, Leo woke up with agonizing pain in his chest, like someone was squeezing a palm around his heart. He thought back. The aching had worsened every time he interacted Finn and Logan. Now the flowers were coming up almost every hour of every day. The tingling feeling is now always at the back of his mind. As soon as Leo thought about Finn and Logan he felt flowers coming up. 

The flowers are accompanied with a burning pain instead of a small stab. All of the flowers are full blossoms, a few with stems and leaves. They’d be perfect and prim, beautiful, if they weren’t coated in enough blood to look like a murder scene. 

This was it; this was one of his last days, if not his last. 

With slow robotic steps, Leo stands up, taking some deep breaths. He fished a pen and a notebook from his cabinet, and started to write four letters.

The words to his family tell them how sorry he was at how bad he was at hiding his worsening hanahaki, how much he loves them, and how he wishes he could have said goodbye in person. 

“I’m sorry for causing you pain.”

In the letter towards the team he apologized for hiding his disease and explained how thankful he was to be a part of his dream team. He told them how different the Lions were to his old teams, how they were a family and how they loved each other no matter what, regardless of their differences.

“Thank you for being like a family to me.” 

In the one addressed to Logan and Finn, Leo explained how they were the subjects of his attraction, how much they influenced his life coming out by choice, consequences be damned. Through blood, sweat, tears and flowers, he found himself rattling on and on about how much he loved them, how he fell in love with them, and how much he valued the friendship they had; even if it was just friendship. Leo’s hand lingered as he thought about it. Would this letter cause the two of them to blame themselves? Should he really write it? 

No. He had to. Leo added a note telling them not to. It wasn’t their fault, it was his choice. 

He brushed away the crimson mess. With droplets of blood staining his fingers, Leo starts on the final and most formal letter. 

Leo wrote vaguely in this letter. He told that he did have hanahaki, and how he had dealt with it for years before he joined the Lions. He publicly commends the Lions for being so accepting of him, even though he had hanahaki and he was gay. Finally, he thanked his fans for staying with him through it all. 

Then, with all the letters finished, Leo sealed them in envelopes and wrote to whom they are addressed to. Gingerly, Leo placed them on his nightstand and prepared for his final practice. 

During practice Leo told everyone how much he appreciates them, which wasn’t too unusual, so nobody took much notice. Otherwise, practice was uneventful. Leo blocked some passes as they prepped for their game with Hufflepuff next week. 

Leo was coughing almost nonstop during practice but he chokes back the blood, bile, and flowers. He allowed himself to think that this is the last time he’d have to push it down. The aching pain in his chest doesn’t subside, if anything it only grew worse the longer practice goes on. 

Leo walked into the locker-room, preparing to take a shower and stretch before heading home when the aching in his chest grew. He could hear the blood pumping in his ears and the world around him blurred. He swayed, unsteady on his feet, trying not to cry or scream. His breaths were labored, he was becoming lightheaded and his heart was pounding in his chest. The pain became too much to bear and Leo’s legs failed on him.

The team rushes over with concerned expressions on their faces. On his knees, the flowers, stems, and leaves start to come up, splattering all over the cold ground, no matter what Leo does to try and keep them back. The team became frenzied, calling for Remus. 

It was too late. Leo knew that this was his end. 

Once, when Leo was little, he asked his grandmother why people didn't just get the flowers removed. She smiled at him sadly and told him that, there might be a person you loved so much you couldn't bear the idea of not loving them. Even if you died for it. 

At the time, he brushed it off as stupid but now, now as tears sqeezed through his blurry vision and the feeling of the cold tile floor disappears, he understands exactly what she meant. 

The last thought that went through his mind, before the petals, flowers, and blood came up for the last time, was of his two loves. In an instant, all of his fantasies of Finn and Logan melted into the reality of their friendship and flew past his eyes. With one last satisfied smile, Leo closed his eyes. His grandma was right. 

Some love really was worth dying for.

Just a quick reminder, this is my entry for @hpbrokenhearts so if you liked this fic or it made you cry/broke your heart, please put a broken heart in the comments, either in emoji form or not! Thank you so much for reading!!!

[babybatscreationsv2]

Not sure if you're accepting prompts since you're busy with King On A Leash. But if you ever find the time, may I please request spiderstrange with Stephen mind breaking Peter?

I'm sorry this took me so long, I've been super busy with work.

Warnings below the cut

Warnings: noncon, kidnapping, vomit, painful sex, mind break, drugged s*x

Peter's face was soaked with drool. It had fully soaked into the ball gag before running down his chin. There was a puddle of it on the floor. The bondage bench kept him held with his chin parallel to the floor and he couldn't turn it all which left him either squeezing his eyes shut or forced to watch the video that played in front of his face. The headphones didn't let him hear anything else, but at least he didn't have to see it. Of course, closing his eyes made everything feel so much more intensely and some times he had to open them just to remember how to breathe.

The machine behind him kept a dildo pumping in and out of his ass. Its hollow tip meant that the thing sometimes spewed out what felt like warm cum, but it kept him from ever going dry. He could feel it running down his thighs and pooling under his knees. He couldn't move his arms or legs at all. Every part of him was strapped down tightly. At least nothing was going numb after what seemed like hours if not longer.

It was truly unfair how painfully, miserably hard he was, but between the cock ring and the thin rope that Stephen had twisted around his cock and balls pulling them back and away from his body, there was no way for him to cum. He went through a cycle of moaning desperately, whimpering pathetically, and sobbing in pain. All the while through the headphones he heard himself whimpering and moaning in endless pleasure. It still made him nauseous, but it wasn't so noticeable after so long of this torture.

"That's a good boy," Stephen purred in his ears. He watched the screen as the Stephen of the past held him gently pinned against the wall.

"You're so handsome," a heavily drugged Peter cooed. "I want you to fuck me, fuck my boy cunt," he giggled, out of his mind. Peter had never really thought about Stephen sexually before that moment. He'd always assumed he was straight. 

"Oh, I'm going to, sweetheart. Look at me."

Peter couldn't see from the camera angle, but he still had the blurry memory of Stephen's hand holding his chin, his other hand stuffing two fingers into his mouth. He heard it when he gagged and when Stephen only pushed in deeper until he retched. Nothing had come up as far he remembered, but that sadistic little chuckle made him shiver every time.

"Fortunately for me I don't give a damn if you puke on my dick. You'll learn soon enough that it doesn't stop me. And you'll learn to control yourself won't you?"

Stupid, drugged, Peter licked Stephen's fingers like they were candy.

"You want my cock already?"

He nodded. Stephen smirked. He pulled the boy into the middle of the room where he knew the camera was waiting. The angle changed and Peter could see himself on his knees. His eyes were glassy, his cheeks pink, his mouth hung open like a panting dog. Stephen slapped his cheek with his cock smearing precum on his skin.

"Go on. Let's see what you can do."

Peter couldn't watch, but he heard. He heard himself licking and moaning, sucking and slurping. Then he heard the way he whined with Stephen grabbed him by his hair, the way he choked when his cock was shoved down his throat. He didn't fuck his face, no he jerked the poor boy back and forth by his hair and he didn't have the stength in him to pull away.

He looked again and saw himself limp as a rag doll. Stephen yanked him back and forth, sighing happily as Peter made the most wretched gagging sounds. Blurry memories reminded of the burn when bile finally came up and no, Stephen didn't stop, but it didn't happen again either. The worst part was Stephen didn't even cum. He just kept going until Peter was fully limp. Exaughsted from the lack of proper air and from the pain of having his throat forced open.

Stephen cleaned up the mess. Then he picked him up and tossed the tired boy into the bed. The camera changed again, angled at the bed.

"Do you want me, Peter?" he asked, but his tone was mocking and cruel. The drugged boy didn't seem to notice. 

"Yes, please," he rasped and then coughed. Then he was crying out as two lube slick fingers were shoved inside him.

"Feels good doesn't it, fucking whore. You needed to be filled didn't you?"

"Yes, sir," he panted.

"That's right. That's a good boy." He didn't take long before he replaced his fingers with his cock. Peter screamed, his head tossed on the pillow.

"Such a tight hole, fuck," Stephen groaned. "I'm going to use this hole all the time."

Peter whimpered, crying. His hands clung weakly to Stephen's arms. "This is what you're made for. You're only worth something when you're full of cock. Isn't that right?" He slapped him when he didn't answer right away.

Peter sobbed before croaking out a "yes".

Stephen held him by the waist and pounded into his ass. He fucked him like he hated him, wanted to break him, wanted it to hurt. And it did. Despite having been drugged out his mind, he remembered how badly it hurt.

"That's my toy. Cry for me, Peter. Fuck you're pretty when you cry." He wrapped a hand around his cock, slowly his pace enough to angle his thrusts to having him crying out in pleasure.

"That's right, feels good doesn't it? You're gonna cum for me. Let it out. Come on, slut, give it out."

Peter cried out as he came in mess across his stomach. Then he was screaming as Stephen went back to mercilessly using his ass.

"Did you think it was over becausr you came? It's only over when I'm done using you. You're my little rape toy. I fucking love it when you cry."

Peter tried pushing him away, but he was just so tired that it was no use. He gave up and lay limp, crying and sniffling. "It hurts," he whimpered.

Stephen laughed. "Good."

He fucked him for so long Peter started to get hard again. Stephen laughed at him. "What a horny cock hole you are. Too bad I don't care. If you cum without my permission I will fucking castrate you."

Peter closed his eyes, but he couldn't block out the sound, the wet pounding, moaning, whining, fucking, sounds.

"Good boy. Good little slave slut. You're going to be the best brain dead fuck toy when I'm done with you."

He didn't watch and he tried not to remember when Stephen pulled out of his ass and fed him his cock. He filled his mouth with his cum, laughing when Peter choked on it. He smeared what he coughed up all over his face.

"Hope you like the taste. That's your dinner from now on. It'll keep you pretty and weak won't it?"

The camera zoomed on on Peter's face. He was half conscious, sobbing weakly, and filthy with spit and cum. Then the video started over again. And with each play through it grew less terrible, less nauseating, and his cock began to throb in time with Stephen's wicked thrusts.

It went on and on, endless fucking, endless aching, the video burning into his mind. And then finally Stephen was there, the real Stephen. He took off the headphones and paused the video on Peter's fucked out face. He pet his sweaty head.

"How are you holding up, huh? Good sex toy enjoying being used? I bet you'd like it more if you could cum, huh?"

"Please," Peter begged.

Stephen bent and handled his balls. They were sore and painful and he whimpered as they were squeezed. "What a pretty purple you're turning."

Stephen turned off the machine. Peter sighed as the toy was pulled out, but he felt admittedly empty. "Look at this cock hole. It's not right for you to be empty is it? It's so uncomfortable. Good thing I'm here to help."

Peter moaned as Stephen stuffed three fingers inside him. He spread them out, stretching him open. Then he fucked them in and out. Peter moaned, his head foggy with pleasure. Then Stephen's finger found his prostate and he forgot how to breathe. The rope around his balls released, then the cock ring slipped off. All too quickly he was cumming... and then he wasn't. Just a soon as his balls drew up, Stephen stopped the pressure on his prostate. Peter sobbed. He could feel the cum draining from his swollen balls, the pressure fading, but the need did not leave him.

"Poor thing, did you think I was going to make you feel good? Do you think you deserve that? A toy like you? No. Maybe someday when you learn to please me before being so damn selfish."

Stephen walked around him. He took the ball gag from his mouth and replaced it with hard metal that kept his mouth forced open. His cock slid over his tongue and down the back of his throat. Stephen held himself there, sighing happily while he choked, throat cunvulsing around him. Then he started to fuck his face as if Peter weren't even there, as if he were just a hole to put his dick in.

He couldn't move, couldn't pull away in the slightest. He choked and coughed, but it didn't do him any good. Stephen cleared loved it by the cruel smile on his face. He made sure to cum just at the back of his throat, leaving him choking on it, gasping for air as he pulled out.

Then Stephen walked around him, slapping his ass as he passed. He put the toy back in, buried as deep as it would go and turned the machine back on. Peter screamed as the machine forced the toy way too deep. His abdomen ached at the intrusion. Yet his body still craved orgasm and under the pain was more building pressure. He sobbed when Stephen tied up his cock again.

The headphones went back on and video restarted. Then Stephen left Peter alone to his torture.

He came back every so often. He paused the video, told him he was a good cock hole, fed him his cum and drained his aching balls without allowing him relief. It wasn't long before Peter was crying, begging Stephen to come back. At night Stephen bathed him and left him to sleep on the bathroom floor. When morning came, he hooked him back up to the bench with the toy abusing his hole and the video of him and Stephen playing.

After four days, Peter was thoroughly broken, near brain dead. All he cared about was having cock inside him and eating Stephen's cum. Stephen said that was good, that he would keep using him and giving him his cum as long as Peter could be an obedient sex doll. Peter wanted nothing else.

[ben-barnes-is-my-husband]

Here’s a Jonsa WIP

I’ve even got a picset made by the lovely and talented @mynameisnoneya1991

So, this is a rough draft. And I’m still fiddling with it (in my mind). I can’t decide if I want Jonsa to be living apart at the start of this to make things easier, and if that would work if they did. That would mean more editing, but I’ll let you guys decide. 

Sansa Stark groans at the heavy pounding at the front door. God, she hopes it isn’t Jon. She isn’t ready to deal with him right now. Not after she had drunk herself into oblivion the night before. 

“What the fuck?!” 

Sansa jumps at the sound of Arya’s shout. Okay, yep, it was coming back to her; she had gotten drunk with her sister last night. 

With her head pounding, she manages to sit up and get out of the bed. The room spins as she stands and she gags and runs to the bathroom to retch in the toilet. She just makes it. 

When she’s done, she wants to cry. She hates throwing up. Any time she had been sick in the past Jon had always held her hair back and then tucked her into bed. 

Now she wants to throw up for a whole different reason. 

She hears her brother’s voice from the living room, and after splashing water on her face and brushing her teeth, she heads out of the bathroom. 

Robb is standing in the middle of the living room and Arya is laying on the couch with the comforter Sansa didn’t recall getting her the night before. 

“Robb,” she croaks and goes to the loveseat to curl up on it. “What are you doing here at…” She doesn’t even know what time it is. 

“Noon,” Robb finishes for her. 

“Yeah, that’s what I said. Noon,” she mumbles. 

“I came to see how you were doing,” he said. He looks sad and lowers his voice as he says, “Jon called me.”

Sansa buries her face in the plump pillow under her head and tries to hold back the tears that sting her eyes. She isn’t ready to cry so soon after waking and definitely not after puking. 

“What the fucker want?” Arya asks crossly. 

“He’s been trying to call Sansa and was worried,” Robb replies. “He told me what happened.”

“Did he tell you he cheated on her?” Arya demands. 

“He said that they had decided to take a break and that he was all fucked up about it and went drinking and…”

“Fucked someone else?” Sansa says. She squeezes her eyes shut. 

“Yeah,” Robb says softly. “Fuck, Sansa, I’m sorry.”

Sansa waves a hand at him. She just wants him to shut up about Jon, she wants her mind not to think about Jon, she wants to feel nothing about Jon, and she wants the room to stop spinning. 

“Did you tell him to fuck off?” Arya asks. 

Sansa smiles into the pillow. She loves her little sister so damn much. No one else would get this angry on her behalf. Well, Jon would have. The time she was sexually harassed by a client at the advertising firm she worked for, he had been out for blood. 

“I told him he was a fucking asshole and that when I saw him next I was going to kick his ass,” Robb says. 

Sansa smiles again. That’s her big brother; her hero. 

“Does he expect a phone call?” Arya asks. 

“Yes,” Robb sighs. 

“Don’t call him,” Sansa says, turning to look at her brother. “Let him suffer.”

Robb frowns again. “San, he was really worried.”

“Ask me if I care.”

Robb nods. “I won’t call him. But just for s and g’s, where is your phone?”

Sansa waves a hand again. “Somewhere.”

“You don’t know.”

“No, I don’t. And I don’t care. I don’t want to see his stupid name on it or hear his stupid messages or read his stupid texts. I just want to not think about him, okay? I’m hungover and I feel like death. I want to just focus on not throwing up again.”

She squeezes her eyes shut again and then the tears come. She buries her face back in the pillow. 

“Now look what you did,” Arya scolds Robb. 

“I didn’t just come for him; I came to see if she was okay, too. I didn’t know about any of it until he called,” Robb says defensively. 

“Can someone get me some water and something for my head?” Sansa asks. 

“I’m on it,” Robb says and hurries off. 

Arya kneels beside the loveseat and Sansa looks at her. “You look like shit.”

Sansa wipes at her tears. “So do you.”

Arya shoves some of Sansa’s red hair from her face. “What do you want to do?” 

“Sleep. When I sleep I don’t have to think.”

“Then let’s get you back to bed and you can sleep.”

Sansa nods and sits up just as Robb returns with water and ibuprofen. She has a feeling the water might make her throw up, but she has to try. It’s ice cold, which helps. She hadn’t realized how thirsty she had been until the water is sliding down her throat. She hopes the ibuprofen works quickly. She also wonders if popping a sleeping pill would have been better. She’d be knocked out for a good chunk of the day. She is all about avoiding this altogether. 

After she’s done, Robb and Arya follow her to the bedroom and help her settle into bed. They’re treating her like porcelain, but she’s okay with that honestly. She feels shaky and weak, and not just from drinking. 

“Do you want me to pack up Jon’s shit and put it on the lawn while you’re resting?” Arya asks. 

“I can help,” Robb offers.

Sansa grabs Jon’s pillow on the bed and hands it to them. “Burn it.”

Arya takes it. “I’m on it.”

The sheets are cool and they feel good against her skin. Robb and Arya cover her up and she rolls over and curls into fetal position and closes her eyes. She chants don’t throw up in her head until she dozes off again. 

                                                 **********

Jon Snow checks his phone again and expels a frustrated sigh when he sees no notification from Robb or Sansa. 

He drags a hand through his curly black locks and then rubs at his beard as he paces, phone in hand, in his kitchen. 

His friend, Sam Tarly, is sitting at the table watching him. “Maybe I should call her?” he asks. 

“You never just randomly call her,” Jon says. “She’ll know you’re with me.”

“She’ll know you sent Robb,” Sam points out. 

“Robb’s also her brother. She won’t turn him away.”

Sam concedes the point. “I’m sure she’s fine, Jon.”

“Fine?” Jon demands, turning on his friend. “I slept with another woman, Sam. She is not fine. You didn’t see the look on her face when I told her.”

He can’t get the image out of his head. The devastation in her eyes along with the tears. The way she’d paled and then the trembling of her bottom lip and the sob - he can’t get the sound of her sob out of his head either. 

He has never felt like such a piece of shit. He hurt the only woman he has ever loved and he is terrified that he won’t be able to fix this. 

Sam holds up a hand. “I just meant I’m sure she’s physically fine.”

Jon rubs at his forehead in frustration. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to snap at you.’

“You’re worried. It’s understandable.”

“I’m more than just worried,” Jons says. He feels the tears come. “I hurt her, Sam. I did something I can’t take back and you have no idea how much I want to. I don’t even remember most of it…” What little he can remember he wishes he could scour from his brain. 

“Why exactly did you guys decide to take a break?” Sam asks. 

“It was over something stupid, something about going out to dinner… We’d been having these stupid little fights for a while now.”

“Why?” 

Jon finally sits. He leans forward and picks at his nails as he speaks. “We just haven’t been on the same page lately. I figured it was because she was dealing with a difficult client at work and I just changed firms. We’ve just been off.”

Sam nods slowly. “That can happen.”

“She said she felt like I wasn’t ‘present’ in the relationship anymore, that I was taking her for granted.”

“Were you?”

Jon purses his lips together, thinking about the week before when he told her she had to come with him to a dinner his new boss was having and she told him she had to work late. A fight had ensued. 

“I’m going to take your silence as a yes,” Sam says. 

“She hasn’t been easy to live with lately,” Jon retorts and automatically wishes he hadn’t said it, never mind thought it. 

“How so?” 

“She’s been so touchy about everything. I feel like I’m walking on eggshells with her.” He sighs. “How the fuck did we get here, Sam? Sansa is...she’s my world. How can she not know that?”

“She can’t read your mind, Jon,” Sam says gently. “Relationships take work--”

“Yeah, I know. I fucking know,” Jon snaps. He holds up a hand. “Sorry. Again.”

“So, this woman…”

Jon groans and drops his head to the table. He bangs it there twice and Sam tells him to stop. 

“I was hurt, I was angry, she was laughing at my jokes and I was drunk off my ass. You know, I’ve only been with one other woman besides Sansa?”

“Was that part of it?” Sam asks. 

Jon frowns. “I don’t know. I don’t think so? I just wanted to feel anything but how I felt. It was a mistake. A drunken mistake.” He pinches the bridge of his nose. “What am I going to do, Sam? How am I going to fix this?”

Sam just looks at him sadly and Jon feels the urge to punch him. He doesn’t want Sam to look at him like that, like he knows already that it’s pointless. That the mistake he made just cost him the love of his life.

[seasonsofeverlark]

Pumpkin Pie and Cheese Buns

Author: @evestedic​

Prompt: Hard working coming home for thanksgiving. Stops at the store on the way to pick up the dessert she didn’t bother to make no one will notice anyway and runs into their ex lover. Tries to leave fast but has to take the walk of shame back to grab the cranberries too. Arrives home not just with the cranberries and pie…  [submitted by anonymous]

Rating: T

____________

“God damn it!” Katniss was not happy. 

It was Thanksgiving, which meant she was being forced to spend time with people she didn’t even know.

Why?

Because they’re family, Katniss.

She could hear her Aunt Martha’s voice. 

Why should she care that her cousin was getting married?

Or that her nephew had gotten into college? 

Or that her godfather was slipping her a 20 buck bill while winking an eye at her? 

She wasn’t a total bitch, so she bore with it, but this was people she saw one fucking time per year! 

If it wasn’t for Thanksgiving, she was sure she wouldn’t see them again as they never even called. Nor did she.

But, be that as it may, Prim loved big gatherings and the attention; she was, after all, quite cheerful. Her father also bore with it, although better than her. 

However, who knew? This year her mother was coming with her new boyfriend. 

Ugh, puke… 

And that was why she was there, November the 26th, coming back from work and on her way to Aunt’s Martha’s house. 

Katniss was not happy. 

She had already left the store not five minutes ago, but something kept nagging at the back of her head while she accommodated the bags in the back of her car. 

Of course, being who she was, she had forgotten dessert. The pumpkin pie with maple whipped cream. Sighing and fuming, she went back to the absolute chaos of the aisles. If she arrived at her aunt’s without dessert…well, she would rather face a biblical plague. 

After perusing the dessert stand and seeing everything was completely wiped out‒not even crumbs were left‒she gave up and thought about getting some canned peaches and cherries.  That’s when she heard it…   

“Is that you, Katniss?” 

That voice. 

She had loved it at one point. Now, it was just nails on a chalkboard. 

Turning around, she set her eyes on a huge blonde guy; he had a perfect gym advertisement body, a smirk on his face, and his arm around a blonde girl with the same perfect gym advertisement body. 

“Cato.” 

“Buying for Thanksgiving?”

“No, just came because I was craving some peaches.” 

“Oh.”

Seriously? It was the most direct sarcastic answer ever, and he had actually believed her? 

Katniss rolled her eyes and was about to turn around when the Barbie clone spoke. 

“Is this the one, babe?”

“Yes, baby, that’s her.”

“Oh, I thought she’d be…I don’t know, prettier?”

“She never wanted to put in the effort, baby.”

“She is standing right here. And if working out turns you dumb, I’m glad I didn’t do it.” 

Katniss had gone out with Cato for two years when they were nineteen. Back then, he had been a kind guy, funny and perhaps a bit silly, but very nice, normal. He had asked her out after a college party, and she accepted; the rest was history. 

However, after one year of being together, he began frequenting the campus gym and suddenly started to change. All he could talk about were diets, exercise, and protein. Katniss was all in for a healthier life; hell, she knew if she kept on eating Greasy Sae’s food every other night, she was going to clog her arteries by the time she was 35, but Cato was relentless. He got rid of all of her comfort food and she had been forbidden to eat chicken and meat ever again. Only turkey and fish were allowed, vegetables, no dairy or eggs, no sugar! She was going crazy; Katniss had reached the obscene point of hiding in the bathroom to eat a Snickers bar, only to quickly brush her teeth and rinse with Listerine at least thrice so that her boyfriend wouldn’t taste any trace of chocolate when he kissed her. It was that night when she knew she couldn’t do it anymore. She no longer recognized the guy she had agreed to date or herself, for that matter. So, Katniss decided to end it right then and there. She skipped her next class and went to their dorm only to find him banging the very same Barbie girl who was in front of her in the canned aisle right now. 

Quickest breakup ever. 

He had said it was her fault for not ‘putting in the effort,’ and she hated him for it. 

“Jealousy doesn’t fit you, Katniss. Well,” Cato gave her a once-over, “I doubt anything does. Have you gained weight?” 

“If I have, that wouldn’t be any of your fucking business. What are you doing here? Came to buy something for dinner? I think there’s a celery and mineral water pack on sale.” 

“Still salty because I chose someone better?” Cato shamelessly licked the girl’s ear, making her giggle in an obnoxious way that made Katniss want to gag. 

She didn’t have to stand here and watch this; she-

Was that a hand on her waist?

“Hey, sorry I took so long. I literally had to wrestle this from an old lady.” 

That voice. 

Peeta Mellark was holding onto her waist and smiling that charming smile that could probably tame a wild animal, while proudly presenting a ham to her.

“Um…” Eloquent as always. 

“Oh, sorry. I didn’t know you were with friends.” 

“Yeah, no…Not my friends.” 

“Aren’t you the baker guy? You’re slumming it with the bakery employee?” Cato laughed while Barbie‒Katniss really couldn’t care less about her actual name‒looked at Peeta appreciatively. 

“I haven’t introduced myself,” Peeta said, extending his right hand but not letting Katniss’ waist go. Cato immediately took it, flexing his bicep as he did so, but his expression faltered when he shook Peeta’s hand. “Peeta Mellark, owner of ‘The Cake Lair’. Have you guys ever been?” 

Katniss was confused. 

It wasn’t as if she and Peeta were actually friends. They had talked, yes. She simply loved the pastries he sold, and because of how she had raved about his cheese buns, well…the double entendre put her in an uncomfortable position, but he had only laughed and thanked her for the compliment, as he had, in fact, baked those himself. 

Peeta always made sure to set aside at least two cheese buns for her prior to the end of the day. 

And okay, yeah, they had exchanged numbers and texted from time to time, but nothing deep. It was always things about the weather, the cheese buns, or how Prim was. Did that qualify as being friends? 

Katniss was awful at being a good friend, hence why she only had two: Gale and Madge. Her sister and father didn’t count; they were family. 

Shaking her head, she returned to the present to find that arm still around her and Cato’s face getting red. 

“Just let go, dude.  You’re about to pop a vein.” Peeta chuckled. 

Katniss directed her gaze at their hands; she could see they were both squeezing the hell out of each other. Cato probably thought he could scare Peeta off with his muscles, but he clearly hadn’t seen Peeta shirtless on a hot day, hauling 100-pound flour sacks onto his back as if they were light cargo. Peeta was strong, like ‘I could iron clothes on your stomach’ fit; he just didn’t flaunt it, and Katniss appreciated that.

Cato huffed and let go, and Peeta smiled once more and winked at Barbie, who was giggling like an idiot. 

“So, we should be going soon if we want to make it, Katniss. You know how Aunt Martha gets if we don’t get the groceries in time for her.” 

So yeah, she had told him about her hellish weekend to come last week, but Katniss didn’t think he would remember. 

With his hand still on her waist and her still not shrugging it off, they made to pass Cato and his doll, but, of course, the bodybuilder felt the need to use the sole neuron in his brain. 

“You know you’re just a replacement, right? I mean, she went and looked for the next guy that kinda looked like me because she clearly can’t forget me.” 

Tuck your thumb over your middle finger to make a proper fist. If you wrap your fingers around your thumb, you’re likely going to break it. 

Her father’s words and the boxing lessons came back in a flash, and before Peeta could hold her back, Katniss pivoted on her left foot, momentum aiding her, and connected her first with Cato’s jaw. She wasn’t an expert boxer or anything of the sort; she just liked the exercise, and she was strong. But Katniss must have been lucky enough to hit the sweet spot because Cato dropped to the aisle floor, unconscious. 

“Babe!” Barbie girl screeched, and suddenly, two more gorilla-looking guys were coming to her aid. 

Friends of his, no doubt. 

“Tell your boy toy, next time he wants to bully me to think twice, lest he finds himself beaten up again by a woman,” Katniss spat at the blonde girl. 

“You did this?” A broad and tall black guy asked. He was actually pretty scary, but Katniss held her ground and managed to nod. To her surprise, he chuckled and sort of bowed to her. “He’s an ass. I bet he had it coming. We’ll take care of him.” 

“Thresh! He’s your friend…” Barbie girl actually had tears in her eyes. 

“He’s not. We’re just in the same weightlifting class. And don’t cry; he’ll come to soon. Finnick, help me bring this idiot back.” 

“You must have a mean right hook, hon,” the guy with reddish hair and perfect teeth told Katniss. 

“I do.” She jutted out her chin proudly; her dad had taught her well. 

“Nice to know you have it all sorted out. Katniss, should we go?” Peeta was pulling her a bit, and she let him, both soon finding themselves out in the parking lot, having decided to leave behind the cans and the ham. 

Once they were in front of her car, Katniss did something she rarely did. 

“I’m sorry I cost you your ham.” 

Peeta seemed surprised, but he simply smiled. “That’s okay. There are a lot of hams left, actually; I just needed an excuse to walk up to you.” 

“Why did you do that?” 

“That guy was an ass, and I know you could’ve handled it on your own, but…,” he leaned in a bit and whispered, “doesn’t it feel good to let him know you’re with someone much better now?” 

Katniss couldn’t help it, she laughed. “You’re full of yourself, Mellark!” 

“Hey! I’m a catch, I tell you. Owner of his own bakery, hard-working; I know how to cook and bake, and I’m easy on the eyes, too.” 

“Not to mention, tons and tons of humility.” 

“That, too.” He smiled, and Katniss rolled her eyes, but she really didn’t feel angry with him. She hadn’t needed his help, but he had offered it freely without expecting anything in return. “So, I guess this is where we part ways.” 

“What are your plans for tonight, Peeta?” Katniss suddenly asked, and he was surprised as well. 

“Uhhhh, not much. Bake something? Eat it while watching TV, nothing exciting.” 

“You can come to my Aunt Martha’s, if you want. Prim would love to see you, and this way I can repay your ‘act of kindness’.” 

“Really? You sure it wouldn’t bother you?” 

“If it did, I wouldn’t have asked.” 

“Sure, I’d love to.” 

“Okay, but before that, there’s something I need you to do for me.” 

“What is it?” 

“Can you drive? My right hand is killing me.” 

                                                °•. ✿ .•°

“Why couldn’t you just buy it?” Katniss whined.

“Because I actually enjoy baking. You should know this already.” Peeta chuckled as he handled the mixer. After a few more turns, it seemed everything was ready. “I just need to flour the containers now.” Peeta patted his hands on his apron and went back to the pantry. 

Katniss took her chance. 

She slowly inched her hand forward, her eyes not leaving Peeta’s back, just in case. 

Two more inches and-

“I swear, Katniss, if you’re reaching for that dough I won’t make any cheese buns for a week.”

“You wouldn’t dare!” she exclaimed, shocked. That wasn’t fair! Peeta hadn’t even turned around, but he knew what she had been about to do. 

“Try me, love.” He then approached the table again, watching a grumbling Katniss cross her arms. “You know you can’t have raw dough while pregnant.”

“That’s a stupid rule. I bet it’s invented. How did women manage centuries ago, then?” 

“Oh, I don’t know. They sometimes died intoxicated, so no biggie.” Peeta was serious now. 

“I wouldn’t die over a bit of dough…” She said it under her breath, but he heard.

Peeta sighed, and Katniss felt a pang of regret. Damn him. “Katniss, do we really have to discuss this again? It’s Thanksgiving, and I’d bet my bank account Aunt Martha would come down here and force you to go to the party if you weren’t so-” 

“Go on, finish what you were going to say.” Katniss knew she was so big she might be in need of her own postal code. 

“-tired. You’re carrying twins, and that’s not an easy feat. The only thing she asked for was the pumpkin pie with maple whipped cream.”

“Every fucking year.” 

“She indulges during the holiday.”

“Why not just get one from the bakery?”

“She wants it fresh.” 

“Why doesn’t she come down here and get it herself?”

“You really want your Aunt Martha here? Right now? Today?”

“…No.” Why did Peeta have to be so logical? 

“I know you’re crabby and your feet are probably swelling. Let me put this in the oven, and then I’ll massage them with some of that lavender cream your mother gave you.” 

“And a bath.”

“A massage and a bath, you got it.” 

Peeta, of course, fulfilled his promise and left Katniss so relaxed she fell asleep and didn’t even notice her husband had gone and come back from the Everdeen’s annual Thanksgiving gathering. 

By the time she opened her eyes, he was sitting next to her, reading a book. 

“Hey…did you all get a proper rest?” Peeta put a hand on her belly, smiling. 

“I think so, yeah; they just started moving.” 

“I can feel. Here, let me help you up.” Peeta’s strength was no joke. He could single-handedly lift her up, yes, even when she felt like a whale, and prop her on the bed so she could sit comfortably. “That okay?” 

“Yes, perfect.” 

“Happy anniversary, love.” He presented her with a huge cheese bun, making her laugh.

“Peeta, just because we fucked for the first time four years ago today, doesn’t mean it’s an anniversary.”

“For me it is! Come on, I bet you didn’t think we’d end up doing it in the bathroom that night.” 

“I seriously didn’t.”

“But here we are, and that’s all that matters.” 

Her husband really was the cheesiest person alive, but she secretly adored that part of him. 

“Shut up and let me enjoy my cheese bun.”

“Your wish is my command.” 

[nastybuckybarnes]

Bad Dream  -  Ten

Pairing: Dark!Steve X Reader

Summary: A year after wiping your memory and keeping you for himself, Steve Rogers is happy. Happier than he’s ever been. With you and your daughter, life couldn’t be any better. The only problem? You’re starting to remember things.

Warnings: Angst, Language, MAJOR TRIGGER WARNING FOR THIS CHAPTER

Word Count: 2.1K

A/n: Boom boom hit ‘em with a plot twist. Ahaha

!!!THIS IS A DARK FIC WITH SEXUAL AND TRIGGERING CONTENT!!!!

MADNESS MASTERLIST ~ BAD DREAM MASTERLIST

~*~

He’s kept his word.

It’s been eight days and he’s kept his word. He hasn’t hurt you or raised his voice at you. He’s been kind, sweet. If you didn’t know any better, you’d think that he actually cares about you.

Do you know any better? There are times where you find yourself staring at him, a smile on your face while he plays with Sarah, before you remember exactly who he is and what he’s done to you.

But the scary part is, that those moments are happening more and more frequently.

~*~ 

“You hungry, darling?” Your stomach flips and you try to convince yourself it’s morning sickness, not the nickname he’s been calling you.

“Not really,” you reply automatically, voice soft and timid. Steve sighs and gently rests his hand on your knee, setting a plate of food down on the bedside table while looking into your eyes with something that resembles desperation.

“Sweetheart, you’ve gotta eat, regain your strength. Doctor’s orders.” You watch as he picks the plate back up and sets it on the bed in front of you. There’s an omelette, a bunch of fruits, some toast, and a small yogurt cup. It looks delicious, but the thought of eating anything makes you wanna puke. And the thought of your mouth watering for something he’s providing you makes it that much worse.

Oblivious to your internal battle, he sets a fork down on the plate with a soft smile. “I’ve got all the food groups in here. I read somewhere that if your plate isn’t colourful then it isn’t healthy but I don’t know how true it is.” He looks up at you, those baby blues so entrancing that you find yourself momentarily forgetting everything he’s done to you and instead, allow yourself to enjoy the breakfast in bed.

You stare at him for a moment before caving with a sigh, popping a strawberry into your mouth and trying desperately to figure out his intentions.

He sees the questions burning behind your eyes and sets down the glass of water he was sipping.

“What is it?” He asks, blue eyes fixed on your face.

You find yourself torn between asking your questions and staying silent, the former a test of his boundaries and the latter a form of protecting yourself from any potential harm that may arise from unwanted questions.

“You can ask me. I won’t get mad, I swear. At least, not at you,” he adds the last part carefully and you take note of that before asking your questions.

“You said you picked me because you saw potential in me. For a family, a life,” you begin carefully, not wanting to push his buttons. He simply waits for you to continue, eyes still soft and curious.

“Why did you get so angry at me? Why were you so rough?” He exhales deeply and closes his eyes, knowing that this conversation was bound to happen if he truly wanted to make things better with you.

“I... I’m angry. I’m so fucking angry all the time and I took it out on you. I used you as an outlet in the worst possible way. I realize what I did was wrong but... I did it anyway. I guess because you’d been... programmed,” he hesitates on the word, gauging your reaction before continuing, “to obey me. To take every hit I sent your way and stay by my side through it all. I knew that I could do what I wanted and I’d get away with it.” You find yourself shocked by the humanity in his answer, the admission of guilt, of being wrong.

“Before you found out you were pregnant with Sarah, you and I were good together. We were perfect. I didn’t even need to... influence you. You were just so perfect for me. I want us to be like that again,” he murmurs.

“How are we supposed to get like that?” You ask quietly, not entirely hating the idea of being happy with a man who treats you right. He sighs heavily and rubs his eyes, suddenly looking exhausted and weary.

“I don’t know. But I know that I’m not going to hurt you. You’re carrying my baby, and I won’t hurt you. Even if you weren’t pregnant, I wouldn’t hurt you again.” His words hang heavy in the air as the two of you absorb them, him with his face in his hands and you with a strawberry stem in yours.

You’re quiet for a long time, thinking about everything he’s told you, everything you remember that you wish you could forget. An idea suddenly hits you full force, and your heart jumps in your chest at what it would mean.

“Could you... make me forget it? All the bad stuff? I... I’ll never be able to live a normal life while I have these memories. Can you get rid of them? Then we’ll live a normal life.” His eyes flash up to yours, hope igniting a flame in them as he nods slowly.

“If you’re sure that’s what you want,” he whispers, wanting more than anything for you to forget and be his obedient little wife again.

“I’m sure,” you say quickly, almost too quickly. Almost.

“I’ll talk to Bucky about it. He’s the one with the book. But I don’t wanna do it until you’ve had time to properly think it over and really consider what you’re asking. I know that... you know you’re it for me. And I’m going to have you no matter what, but making our relationship work is a priority for me, especially now that we’ve got another baby on the way. But you’re mine, and you’ll always be mine. But if that’s what you really want, I’ll do it for you.”

You let out a shuddering breath as he stands up and heads to the door, Sarah’s cries grabbing his attention. With him gone, you take a few deep breaths, trying to come to terms with what you’ve requested of him.

~*~

“Are you sure that you want to forget?” Natasha asks, sitting across from you on the bed. You nod, eyes cast downwards. “I’m forced to stay with him anyway, I might as well be happy while doing it. I just... I want to know what it is, how it affects my brain. I don’t want to be forced into it, I want to learn about it.” She nods, unsure of how she feels about your request.

“Bucky has a book about it, it’s the one they used to control him. He’s had the words wiped from his mind but it explains how it works. I’m sure the two of them would understand if you read it, especially because of how... obedient you’re being.” She eyes you up and down for a moment before sighing.

“I wish it wasn’t like this for you,” she whispers, eyes on the baby in your arms. “Me too,” you agree. “But I know that there’s nothing I can do about it. This is my life, and nothing can change that. So I’d better make the best of it. If this is what leaves everyone feeling at least slightly happy, then I’ll do it.”

Her heart aches at the confession but she understands.

You lean down and plant a gentle kiss to Sarah’s head, smiling when she giggles.

“Steve loves her,” Nat says softly. You nod, looking at the beautiful baby in your arms. “I know. And she loves him. It’ll work. Maybe not in my favour, but it’ll work.” Unable to bear the way that you’re sacrificing your individuality, Natasha gets up and seeks out her friend, wanting to do whatever she can to make you happy. “Steve!” She calls. The blond looks up from his phone, eyebrows raised.

“I want the book. I want to teach her what’s happening to her.” He nods, setting his phone down on the couch beside himself.

“Bucky’s getting it. He should be back within an hour. I want her to be happy before we wipe her again. Buck says it makes it last longer when she’s compliant.” Nat feels sick to her stomach.

“Steve you can’t-” But Steve’s on his feet and rushing past her to the master bedroom, hearing your distressed cries before they reach Natasha’s ears.

He finds you struggling to get out of the bed, Sarah held in one arm.

“Bathroom,” you whisper weakly, one hand held tightly to your mouth. Natasha comes in and takes Sarah from your arms while Steve scoops you up in his and brings you to the bathroom, placing you in front of the toilet and holding your hair back while you gag.

When you finally stop heaving you fall back against steve's chest, bringing your hand up to wipe your face.

Steve's sharp inhale gets your attention and you open your eyes, horror filling you as you see the blood in the toilet and on the back of your hand.

You slowly turn to look up at him, fear in your eyes, and his own face mirrors your expression.

A sharp pain in your stomach makes you cry out, eyes shutting again as agony fills your lower abdomen.

"What's happening in there?!" Natasha demands, peaking her head in through the doorway. Her eyes land on you, hand against your stomach and face screwed up in pain, and she instantly knows what's happening.

"It's okay, darling. You're gonna be okay," Steve says softly, rubbing your back and trying to comfort you.

You squirm on the ground as pain overwhelms you, crying out again and reaching for the closest thing, which happens to be Steve's hand. You squeeze hard, sobbing as the pain sends bolts of fire up your spine and down through your pelvis.

"The doctor's on his way," Nat says, although she knows nothing can be done.

When you open your eyes everything is spinning, the world a blur, and you can hardly hear anything over the ringing in your ears.

"What do I do, Nat?" You don't hear her reply, too busy fighting the darkness that threatens to overtake you. Eventually, fighting becomes too hard, and you fall into the peaceful nothingness that takes the pain away.

~*~

"This is why you can't keep her the way you have been, Steve," Natasha scolds for the millionth time, standing by her friend who sits at the foot of the bed, redrimmed eyes trained on your unconscious face.

"I know," he whispers, trying to get the image of you on the ground, bleeding, out of his mind.

"And neither one of you knew she was pregnant?" She asks. He sighs and nods. "We didn't know how far along. I think both of us assumed she was only a month or two." You had been just over four months.

You scrunch your nose up in discomfort and slowly open your eyes, confused and slightly dazed.

"Hi sweetheart," Steve whispers, moving up on the bed to sit next to you so you can see him.

"What happened?" You ask, voice scratchy and hoarse.

"The doctor couldn't pinpoint one cause... but we... we lost the baby." You furrow your brows and shake your head, wincing slightly at the throb it causes.

"N-no." He nods, tears falling down his cheeks.

"I'm so sorry." You look at Natasha desperately, hoping he's lying, but when she shakes her head solemnly you know it's true.

A strangled gasp leaves you and you squeeze your eyes shut.

"No," you repeat, softer this time.

"I'm sorry," Steve whispers again, holding your hand close to his face.

You tear your hand away from him and bring it to your stomach, fat tears rolling down your face as you realize how empty you feel.

"No!" You cry, curling in on yourself despite the pain. "No!" You hate him. You hate him with every fibre of your being. And you hate yourself for thinking that even for one moment you could be happy with him. He's taken one of the few shreds of light in your life and destroyed it.

Steve and Natasha leave you alone after a while, Steve to get Sarah and Nat to find Bucky.

The isolation gives you time to calm down and to think, and you quickly find yourself hatching a plan.

[allthebooksandcrannies]

things i did as a kid that really ought to have been a clue i was neurodivergent:

asking for the same exact story to be read to me every night (to the point that when my parents tried to skip pages i’d be like “no mom, you forgot x” and proceed to quote the skipped pages from memory) (it was Summertime in the Big Woods or Fox in Socks if you’re curious)

getting super distracted every three minutes when my mom made me clean my room

Freaking Out everytime i had to touch dirty dishes or wet food that had been sitting in the sink because It Was On My Hands

being able to recite the plot, subplots, and every characters distinguishing traits and history in the series about any book i had read and then being confused that not everyone had such an in-depth knowledge of the character dynamics of Nancy Drew and Magic Treehouse novels

willingly spending hours on the baseboards and cabinets when we did spring cleaning because i couldn’t move on until they glowed

having an extensive list of foods whose textures were EVIL and that would literally make me gag and cry if i was forced to eat them even though i was generally an overly accommodating child (i gotten where i can make myself eat corn and peas as long as mixed with other things that hide their textures, but i still cannot make myself eat mushrooms or fat/gristle on my meat without genuinely wanting to puke)

getting inordinately upset if we changed our holiday traditions/routines

came up with super elaborate play-pretend games specific to each group of friends/relatives

hating eye-contact with a fiery passion

losing everything the minute i set it down and not being able to find it for the life of me once that happened 

getting super upset/offended by unfairness or by people breaking the rules because i liked rules and just couldn’t comprehend why others didn’t

constantly accidentally hurting other kids feelings or annoying people because i was totally oblivious to all those unspoken social rules and cues

being unable to wear my socks if the seems weren’t perfectly lined up

being unable to stand certain clothing fabrics if they smelled or felt weird

There were so many things lol. How the fuck was i a senior in high school before anyone even suggested the possibility that i was autistic? Figuring that out about yourself after you’re old enough to drink is a trip lemme tell you.