#and this was humiliating and it was scary but more than anything it was exhausting bc by this point I was very accustomed

[variantoutcast]

Not sure how to insert a read more on mobile so this post about my personal experiences with transphobia and ableisn will be in the tags only 👍

[gabessquishytum]

Seeing saytr dreamling fics in AO3 made me nostalgic for the original saytr dream ask someone (yan anon, maybe?) and its immaculate vibes. Here’s hoping someone does a saytr dream fic too?? He deserves one too!

After his first…encounter with Dream, Hob knows he should move out of the forest but he’s tried to leave and there is something wrong with the road. It never takes him out of the forest but loops back to his own cabin. No matter what he does, he can’t seem to leave. Dream doesn’t want him to.

But food shows up on his doorstep anyway, fruits, vegetables and freshly killed animals from the forest. So hob knows the saytr knows where he is. He knows he is the reason hob can’t leave. In his feverish, hot dreams, he seems Dream’s wild animal grin, his glittering eyes and feels his massive c*ck ramming into hob’s arse again and again… and he wakes up hard and aching.

Hob waits, anxious, feeling watched all the time. He feels somewhat safe in his cabin…

Until one night he dreams that he’s back in the clearing with the saytr.

“Miss me?” Dream purrs and tears his pajamas off. Hob scrambles to get away but dream just pins him down and starts fucking him. Only this time dream isn’t fucking his arse. Dream’s pounding into a brand new pussy Hob never had before.

He cries and struggles but dream is so much stronger than he is, and faster too. Even if hob gets away, dream just treats it like a little game of tag, and pounces on him again, grinning like he’s having the time of his life. And dream feels so good that eventually hob just begs for more through his sobs.

Dream fucks his new pussy all night, against a tree, on his knees, on his back, even his mouth, for variety.

Hob wakes up in the morning, relieved it was just a dream. But he’s naked and all sticky. Somehow he’s covered in hickeys and bruises and cum…and he is deliciously sore, aching for something to fill a nonexistent hole…

OOOOH yes. You can tell how behind I am on answering these but YES we were indeed blessed with some excellent satyr Hob content a little while ago!!!

I also really love possessive, magical, low-key scary but extremely sexy satyr Dream. Especially with dream sex as well!!!!

Poor Hob, missing the pussy that he never actually had! He stumbles out of his cabin half dressed, sweating and aching, and goes on this half angry, half horny rampage through the forest to look for Dream. He keeps catching glimpses in the foliage, but every time he makes a grab for him he comes up empty handed, and all he can hear is laughter. Seems like he's much better at being prey than predator.

And thanks to Dream’s magic, he just ends up going in circles, ending up back at his cabin each time. Hob is exhausted and panting and he slumps down in the clearing outside his house, desperately rutting himself against the grass. He's so humiliated by his neediness, but he just can't stop!

And perhaps Dream lazily appears at the edge of the clearing, leaning against a tree and just watching his favourite pet human as he exposes himself for the world. Humans are so boring but this one is just delightful.

"Did you enjoy my gift, darling?" He purrs. Hob just whines and keeps rubbing himself against the ground. He aches inside. He wants his fucking pussy back! "I can give it back to you, my sweet. Would you like that?"

Hob has no clue what Dream even means, but even so he's spreading his legs and shuffling towards Dream through the grass. Dream’s flaming eyes glow, and his beautiful midnight black hair stands at an end with what looks like excitement. Hob’s heart hammers and he's deeply terrified, but more than that - he needs something inside him. Anything.

And Dream looks so willing to give him whatever he needs... perhaps a little magic to permanently make his cock into a pretty little cunt? He could fuck Hob until he's forever changed. It would be so worth the effort.

[polyklok]

Toki fluff, please! J, K, L, R, S, T, V, W! Thanks!!!

J- Jealousy

In front of you? Not at all! When you’re getting hit on, he simply laughs it off! If you’re visibly comfortable, he’ll insert himself into the situation and get you out of there with a friendly smile on his face and no rude remarks!

When you’re not in the room…Holy shit. This guy stalks over to the jerk, pulls them in by the collar, and hisses threats in their face until they’re shaking. Toki can be extremely scary when he wants to be. If the person decides to be an asshole to him, he’ll have the klokateers ‘remove’ them and then go right back to your side like nothing was wrong.

K- Kisses

Toki takes every opportunity he can to pepper you with kisses! Many of them are light, playful, and he loves doing the classic romance thing of trailing down your neck and arms before placing a big one on your lips. Anywhere and everywhere, he’ll kiss you a thousand times a day! You’re gonna have to peel him off.

When he’s a bit more desperate, his kissing can turn a bit sloppy. Sometimes his mustache gets wet with drool, it’s a bit gross.

He also likes being kissed anywhere and everywhere, but his favorite are the classic cheek and forehead kisses.

L- Little Ones

It’s..complicated.

All the time, he talks about wanting to have kids with you and starting a family. But anytime he’s actually around kids, it’s very awkward. He’s not mean, he’ll smile and talk with them a little, but it’s obvious he’s uncomfortable. They remind him too much of himself at that age, vulnerable and scared and hurt. He’s slightly jealous of them for having a better lifestyle than he did. If he somehow comes across any children in an abusive situation, he’ll take them in immediately and grow attached very quickly.

Would he actually be a good father to potential kids? He isn’t sure and he’s terrified to find out.

R- Remember

If you ask, Toki could go on a multi-hour long rant! But, in the long term, it’ll be proposing to you. He always longed to have a traditional, healthy marriage and as soon as you came along, he was sure he had found the one. He bought a ring very early, but didn’t even consider to act for months, possibly years. He thought about how it would happen, a lot. He wanted the moment to be grand, celebratory! He really wanted to do it in a very public way, but many people talked him out of it. So he came up with something else, to spare the both of you the potential humiliation.

After another successful concert, he comes off the stage sweating, muscles swore, breathing heavy. But all he can focus on is you, backstage, just out of the sight of the crowd. Before you can even say anything, he collapses to a knee and pulls out the ring box that had been in the back of his pocket the entire show. Even in his exhausted haze, he remembered how bright and happy your face was at the moment. He said something to you, half in Norwegian, something about love and commitment.

Once you said yes, he rose up and slipped the ring onto your finger. His heart was melting with joy. His corpse makeup smeared all over your face as he kissed you, over and over. He slipped an arm under your butt, placing your legs to sit in his shoulder as he carried you back out onto the stage. As he stood there triumphantly, holding you, you holding up your hand the show the ring, both of your faces hurting with smiles, it’s said that the entire world shook from the noise of the crowd. Cheers and screams flooded the air. It’s also said that several Toki fans killed themselves instantly.

S- Security

He’s very protective of you and he loves when you do the same for him.

He insists on being overly chivalrous, carrying anything remotely heavy for you and carrying you instead of doing something mildly inconvenient, like walking up some stairs. If you get into an argument, he won’t necessarily defend you, but he’ll stand behind you with his arms crossed like a tough lil guy. As soon as you actually get hurt, it’s a different story. A very different, bloody story.

If you stand up for him in anyway, he’ll become so soft and just watches with adoration as you do your thing. He thanks you extensively for it, too.

T- Try

He’s obsessed with the classic ‘wooing’ tactics. He watches a bunch of cheesy American romance movies and does research online whenever he decides to do something for you, which is often.

It’s mainly gifts, in the form of sweets, stuffed animals, and personalized memorabilia. Does a scrapbook at some point as well, probably for an anniversary.

For dates, it varies. At the beginning, it’s everything you can think of. Dinner, movies, arcades, walks, shopping, the whole package. Once he finds what you both enjoy the most, he’ll lean into that more.

And everyday? This man is infatuated with you, there will never be a doubt in either of your minds of his love, he’ll prove it every single second if he has to.

V- Vanity

Toki doesn’t care that much. Honestly, he should probably care a little bit more. He doesn’t clip his nails regularly, uses 2-in-1 shampoo, and occasionally forgets to brush his teeth. But he loves doing spa days with you, especially if it includes animal-print face masks!

W- Whole

Early on? Not so much. He’s a bit scatter-brained and he can adjust easily to not have his partner there, especially during the exciting tour months.

But as soon as his gets adjusted, he suddenly feels so depressed without your warmth right next to him. If he’s away, he wants to call and FaceTime you at every opportunity, texting you in between those! He makes sure to always have a shirt or something that smells like you on hand and will get even sadder if the smell fades away.

When he gets back, he does everything he can to make sure it doesn’t happen again.

Woof! That was a long one. If anyone else wants to send in a request, refer to back here.

[goblins-riddles-or-frocks]

BTS for "In This Darkness, I Have You"

Fic Specific Asks

BTS: I’ll write a DVD commentary about my personal favorite passage from [that fic]

OMG thinking about this fic for the first time since 2019. It’s been ages, so I’m just going to read through it and comment on anything that comes to mind!

So for context, the main premise of this is basically my take on the obligatory vampire period sex trope with alutegra lmfao. But specifically imagined as like a once a month no strings attached arrangement where integra REFUSES to ever acknowledge that there is like anything going on between them whatsoever. Mostly because she just can’t bear to actually unpack anything about their dynamic.

I tend to interpret Integra as just incredibly overworked and exhausted and also just. kind of emotionally stunted from having to bear the burden of acting like an adult from the age of twelve. She only knows how to compartmentalize and move on.

So this is obviously scene setting, leaning into the Tropes and horror angle. I always like making clear that Alucard is scary and gross lmao, and also that Integra’s super desensitized to it. This bit particularly though I also wanted to convey that he’s trying really hard!! It’s showmanship for her, he’s trying to put on a face that he thinks she expects and will be into.

So the fic takes place over the backdrop of a storm and the power going out. I think in context of the single one shot it feels a little jarring tbqh because of how things stop about twice to address it, but this fic fits into a continuity of a longer chapter fic I never actually wrote the entirety of. (Maybe one day?) And I think more mundane asides work better in that context. That being said it’s a (somewhat heavy handed?) metaphor. Integra just automatically blames him. He’s not correcting her, but it’s also like actually not his fault, and that comes up later. Idk tying into her perception of him as just more collected and in control of things than he actually is.

I’m generally very drawn to ship dynamics where one character just Can Not deal with being loved. But particularly in this case I think she just can’t like morally and ethically square it, because she feels immensely guilty for the whole… eternal servitude aspect but also doesn’t know what to do about any of it.

I think conversely Alucard truly just doesn’t care. He’s being honest when he asks if it matters. Sure, maybe their entire dynamic is fucked, so what?

This is condensed to see mostly the dialogue. I had a lot of fun with this back and forth! and like Alucard as a temperamental, mercurial type.

The return of the power outage subplot lmao! The Walter cameo was fun to me though. It’s really abrupt and it shakes up the mood a lot. I love writing a very over attentive Walter, perhaps because he’s perpetually feeling guilty…

I also just have a fun time writing him as a very intense mothering type. Kind of unsure how to care for Integra, especially now as an adult where she does not need caring for.

Anyway that last paragraph is a fairly crucial misunderstanding of Alucard I think. Again she doesn’t want to consider him being emotionally involved in anything! He does lash out and like deliberately fuck with her a lot but a) this would NOT be the time b) she views it as like this is just something he does as opposed to like letting herself see why.

And he plays into that perception! He’s like don’t mind me, I’m just silly!! Because admitting to genuine vulnerability is fucking humiliating and also when not in the heat of the moment, being bitter about the fact that she might like actually be grossed out by the prospect of him being in love with her, he absolutely knows that if they Have That Conversation she is going to fucking dump him entirely lmao. So he’s trying to shut the fuck up and not ruin things

And yeah this just further solidifies the points I was trying to make earlier. This fic is not subtle lmao. And if it wasn’t already clear, I just really like getting into Alucard being genuinely fragile.

Generally this fic doesn’t *resolve* anything between them. I don’t think anything I’ve ever written for these characters had a real resolution or solving of problems, just because there’s too much baggage to actually solve anything. But I think they end it with a slightly better understanding of each other. And Integra still has just as many issues with it rip.

Idk if this is potentially annoying to anyone who’s read it and liked the softer ending where she asks him to stay the night regardless of the dramatic conversations. But uh…. in the larger continuity that this fic falls into she’s absolutely going to start avoiding him after this lmao. Which Alucard, in turn, is not going to take well! They’re very dysfunctional.

Which isn’t the complete end of the romantic relationship either, because their boundaries are atrocious. But yeah this fic is def not the end/entire scope of that conflict.

[oh-katsuki]

.

okay i am now more prepared to mention what has happened but im doing it because i need to complain about something. anywa

so yesterday i got a phone call that my dad was in the hospital with a brain bleed and needed emergency brain surgery. naturally, i was scared to death (still) and rushed back home to go be with him and my family. he’s had his operation and now he’s in recovery, but things still feel incredibly surreal and scary and im not rly sure how to handle it. even now im like... idk whatever. anyway 

my housemates emailed my professors on my behalf yesterday to tell them i’d be going home and wouldn’t be in class (because i was physically incapable of doing anything yesterday), but they were brief bc they really don’t need to know my business. 

now that my dad’s in recovery though, the adrenaline is starting to subside and im exhausted and like... weirdly scared idk whatever. anyway... i now have to email all of my professors and explain to them that i need extensions and wont be in class on monday either and i know school is my responsibility bc higher education and all... but it is so humiliating to have to ask for an extension on an exam and say that i can provide proof of the fact that i thought i was gonna lose my dad this weekend. like i was travelling all day yesterday and in the ICU with my dad all day today and i feel like i am incapable of doing anything else. 

and like... the fact that i will probably have to beg to not have my grades take a hit for this is fucking infuriating and humiliating because there is nothing i can do. even right now there is nothing i can do. i can’t focus. i can’t study. i can’t help my dad. like i have to choose between my academics and being with my dad and family during one of the hardest and scariest experiences in our lives. like the fact that im going to have to go in on tuesday and wednesday and be like “pleaaasee professors, don’t knock my grade down because i had to go home bc i thought my dad was gonna die, pleaaassee” is making me so upset and anxious. and it’s embarrassing to have to email the professors who specifically ask NOT to be told anything personal because like “family emergency” and “dad having emergency brain surgery” are not on the same level to me, but i have to do it that way anyway... idk i get why they do it but at the same time like what is okay to say and not okay so that the gravity of the situation can be understood... (i said ‘incredibly emergent situation regarding my immediate family). 

i also feel so GUILTY about missing classes. i feel so GUILTY about it but i need to be here because i would rather be overreacting and have everything turn out okay than under react and regret it later. and i KNOW that it’s a valid reason and excuse... i KNOW that... but like im so wired to believe that it’s work/school < everything else.. that i feel so guilty and that ive somehow made this whole thing up as an excuse to slack off (even though i KNOW how emergent the situation is). whatever im just stressed and sad idk. 

whatever it’s just been a really awful past few days and im so tired and have only just now had a moment to sit with the feeling of my academics continuing on even while my family is dealing with this. whatever im just weird right now.

[shaaaaaaar]

hi it is 1 am and i am here to complain

i’m really fucking tired of people treating me like i’m soft or fragile or innocent/naive, that kinda stuff. it’s been a thing for most of my life no matter how much i try to prove its not really true, and its so frustrating. because i’m easily startled and i have anxiety, i’m some fragile boy meant to be protected and whose too soft for stuff.

most people don’t actually mean any harm with it. the concern is good willed and comes from a place of kindness, but ends up feeling condescending. i’ll be shielded from anything mildly scary and i won’t be told specifically why but it’s pretty easy to deduce that it’s because the tone is horror or it’s mildly violent or whatever. the sensitivity is appreciated, but it often is either over exaggerating things i’ve said i don’t like (for example i don’t particularly like gore but that’ll be overblown to like. someone avoiding telling me about shit like yandere sim. because people die. exclusively me.) or shit i’m fine with but there’s a darker tone so “he wouldn’t like it”. a lot of the time it doesn’t feel like there’s consideration for me specifically and instead an assumption of me not liking darker-toned stuff.

a lot of the time people treating me softly comes off as patronizing. something that really sticks out to me is i was asked recently to hold onto something while a person left for a moment and got told that the thing i was told to hold was there to protect ME. the legal adult. an inanimate object. another one is i’ll be told for HYPOTHETICALS i’m not allowed to have sharp objects because “i don’t trust you to not accidentally cut yourself”. i’ll be told i can have blunt objects, but nothing sharp. i’m always characterized by being weak-willed or the anxious one and… it gets very tiring. especially when none of this treatment is given to anyone else, only me. it gets noticeable.

another part of it is i tend to be less harsh on people. i try not to be too judgemental and harsh on people, maybe to a fault (i’ve got more shit to work on than that). so when i run into assholes, i’m treated like the innocent “too sweet for this world” guy because im… not a dickwad to people? i had a friend group once who all became friends bc they made a groupchat to complain about basically an entire community of people. i had nothing to add with complaints (even if i did wanna rant to the extent they did, i barely knew the people they talked about), i was just willing to listen and found it morbidly interesting. hindsight 20/20 i should’ve figured these guys were assholes (and christ they were assholes) but that isn’t the important part. in that friend group i was ALWAYS treated like the little innocent bean and if i knew something mildly fucked up it was a shocker. which got exhausting.

at the end of the day its because i have anxiety problems. that’s the smoking gun. anxiety has always been a part of my life and mine is considerably worse than a lot of people’s nervousness. with my friends i’m the guy who has “more anxiety problems” and i don’t like being boiled down to that sure but i agree that i have a lot. but frankly, being treated like i’m weak actually makes me feel more anxious. because it leaves me feeling pathetic and humiliated. being treated like i need to be protected only serves to make me feel either defenseless or disrespected. i’m well aware that i’m not a weak person. i’ve been aware of this for a long time.

yes, i am a more sensitive person. sometimes i’m pretty fragile. i get nervous very easily and treating me more gently isn’t exactly bad because the gentility is mindfulness of my sensitivity. there’s a line, though. because at some point it stops being sensitive and becomes being patronizing. it stops being mindful of my anxiety and becomes making me all about my anxiety. cradling someone with anxiety, or at least cradling me, isn’t the solution to anything. it makes things worse and only serves to solidify the notion that i’m weak. to be blunt, being sensitive, being anxious, hell, being fragile, doesn’t mean being weak. it doesn’t mean i need to be protected and my world needs to be baby-proofed. i mean hell, i spend a lot of my time trying to push myself outside of my comfort zone because what’s the point of baby-proofing? nothing will change.

ironically i have no clue how to go about actually telling people this (despite the fact i’ve had the intention to find some opportunity for months now) and somehow i’ve ended up on tumblr at 1 am rambling about it. which isn’t solving anything. i really do need to go about that because it’s important

ok it’s 2 am now so i’m leaving bye

[celestialking]

Crimson Shadows

NSFW 18+ only - Minors/Ageless blogs DNI

◇ Event Masterlist ◇ Event Rules ◇ Their Request ◇

Pairing: Foolish , Punz , afab!reader

Au: Imposter

Warnings: humiliation, overstim, dacryphilia, knife play, sir/master, afab, facesitting,

Phrase Purple: “Quiet, baby, don't want the others to hear do you?"

An: this ended up being so much longer than I meant- also I do believe you didn't mention the body type, I tried to go back and see but I didn't see anything so I apologize if you weren't wanting for a fem body. I kept the pronouns neutral tho. Also because it's so long not every kink was in super depth and was mostly just mentioned.

The silence in the halls wasn't scary. Neither was the darkness that crept from every corner. It wasn't the fact that any minute some life-threatening situation could decimate your crew. No, what was more terrifying was the fact that some of those people who were your friends weren't exactly people themselves. Imposters. Hiding amongst you to make your life more difficult. Luckily, you had two pretty best friends who had guard dog privileges to protect you. 

Punz and Foolish hovered over you as you did tasks, putting their bodies between you and harm's way. They had an alibi for anytime someone had mysteriously gone missing even though others found your trio suspicious. You trusted them with your life, but that wouldn't make them any less scary when they appeared from out of nowhere. 

"Oh," you gasped, stepping back. Foolish had appeared in front of you, where he had come from you weren't entirely sure. You had been too lost in thoughts, the sheepish smile showing he hadn't meant to startle you. 

2 short tasks, 1 long task. That's what you had been repeating to yourself. 

Finally off of the snowy surface of polis you were back on the ship headed back to HQ. 3 simple tasks are all you were in charge of, but honestly running from side to side of the ship was getting exhausting so watching cameras seemed like a better idea. Besides if those imposters had followed you back it would be great to catch one on camera. 

"I hate you," you grumbled, pushing lightly past him. 

He chuckled for a few moments before realizing you left him in the dust. "Hey wait up," Foolish was calling for you. 

Only for a moment, you looked back watching the taller raven-haired wave goodbye to Punz and trot after you. "Where are you headed?" 

"Cctv," you hummed, popping your head into the medical bay. 

Dream and Sapnap were hanging out by the vials. Hopefully, they won't break something this time. Fingers crossed. 

"No tasks left huh?" He asked. Foolish waved towards Sam who ran by. 

"I have a few," you corrected. "But I'd rather just take a break for right now, too many navigational errors and reactor numbers makes my head hurt," You replied remembering them hovering over and laughing at your misery when you would misclick. You sat in the chair in front of the cameras still aware of the raven towering over you. 

He just hummed and looked up at the cameras. "What about you? What about your tasks?" You asked, eyes flickering over to the camera in the reactor room. 

"I'm already done," Foolish behind you had somewhat of a proud smirk on his lips. If you asked yourself, a bit too proud just for doing simple electrical tasks. There hasn't been a time he wasn't by your side so you weren't sure when he would have done anything unless he miraculously had to do the same things as you. 

"Yeah okay, sure Foosh, and I'm an imposter," You rolled your eyes and moved back to face the screen. 

He giggled. Behind you he shuffled a bit, his body coming into view on your side. "Are you?" 

"What no, are you?" 

Foolish made a soft noise. "I'm glad you aren't," he finally grinned. 

"Well If you were the imposter I wouldn't tell," you joked laughing softly. 

There was a soft creak of metal but you brushed it off as the ship. With all of the faulty wiring, you wouldn't be surprised if this thing was barely holding itself together. Foolish glanced over to gaze at your reaction, while he attempted to hold back nefarious giggles himself. You hadn't seen it, however, Punz had just climbed out of the vent behind you both. How ironic that you were searching for the imposters that happened to be standing behind you. It was amusing really. 

"Really? Not even Sapnap" Foolish grinned. 

"Of course," you shifted to look at a different side of the cameras. 

Now seeing Punz in the back corner you flipped around. "Hey," he greeted simply. 

"Did you-" you trailed off looking towards the grated metal behind him. He followed your gaze, shrugging as he did. Now acutely aware of the danger you were possibly in, you began to shift in your seat. It was true no harm had come to you from them but given the circumstances of what you think you just witnessed maybe it was better to take no chances. 

"Hey look at the time," you nervously chuckled. Getting up from the desk chair you made your way to the door. Foolish slid into your seat with a sharp grin. "Gotta be doing some tasks. Just like a good crewmate, right guys?" 

Your back collided with a solid object making a shiver run down your spine. The CCTV door had shut behind you. Foolish left the chair, Punz snatching it within seconds. This seemed to be an unspoken game of musical chairs. "Punz? Foolish? The um- the door?" By the time you had muttered the last word, your voice was nothing but a whisper. 

"Well me and Foolish were just about to have a little fun," the raven made a noise in agreement. "Don't you wanna join us? If not, it's totally fine. That doors gonna open in about 45 seconds," Punz handed something to Foolish who pushed a small object into your hand and stepped back. It was an electronic device, one you assumed controlled the doors. And only 2 people aboard the ship owned that kind of technology. Imposters. A glint of silver caught your eye, a knife was being passed from Punz to Foolish. 

As promised the door opened after the given time. A cooler breeze hit your back as the metal slid open. They were giving you an out. You didn't have to stay and have fun. You could go do tasks and forget this happened. But. The whole reason you came in here was to take a break. That and even if you did leave there was no denying what you saw, and you were sure neither would want you to say anything to the others. On the second hand- you glanced Foolish and Punz from head to toe. A little fun never hurt anyone and as you said before, you trust them with your life. 

Shakily you pressed a button on the tablet. Nothing happened causing a few chuckles from the men. You watched Foolish pass back the sharp object to Punz before stepping over to you. "Let me help you there," He whispered lowly. A single finger tapped a button on the screen with a language you didn't understand. There was a soft beep and the doors in this area had slid shut with a lock. 

"Cmere," Punz cooed. 

You obeyed letting him tug you into his lap. You trembled lightly, making both of them laugh. 

Lips brushed against the back of your neck. "You're so jumpy angel," you leaned back slightly, letting Foolish's hands roam as he pleased. They traveled over every inch of skin, his touch electrifying you. A disappointed noise left your lips as he continued to avoid everywhere that ached for his touch. He knew what you needed and was purposely denying you. 

While Foolish had been busy with that Punz was fighting for your attention. His teeth nipped your collarbone, enjoying the startled whine you let out. It was almost overwhelming with the two different touches, you weren't sure who you wanted to lean into more. 

Finally, Foolish's hands landed on your hips dragging them forward to grind against Punz. The blonde choked on a moan at the sudden stimulation. "Gee we haven't even started Punz," Foolish teased from behind you. "You're already a mess," 

An annoyed huff left him but nothing more. Punz's hands grabbed at your hips landing on Foolish's hands. 

"We can't let you have all the fun," Foolish reprimanded. 

He shooed away the blonde's hands and dragged you off of Punz's lap. He already looked wrecked. His darkened blue eyes watched with hunger as Foolish slowly teased the band of your pants. It was almost as if Foolish was waiting for Punz to beg rather than you. No one had to say much until he was already slowly dragging off your clothes. Punz slowly stood from his seat moving towards you. You expected to feel the warmth of his hands grasp you in some way, but they didn't. 

Instead, you watched Punz lay down on the ground giving you a slight idea as to what was next. 

"Wait but-" 

"Don't worry so much angel," There was a look in Punz's eyes that made you shiver. "You're riding my tongue not my dick," 

Foolish bit down on your collarbone just as he muttered these words. You choked on a whimper already feeling royally fucked just being between these two. 

Now bare you shakily stood above Punz, "Are you sure?" You whispered. 

He didn't answer, instead yanking on your leg to pull you down. Foolish's hands landed on your shoulders lightly pushing down with whispers of assurance. Once you were settled over his face Punz wasted no time in getting started. His tongue lapped away roughly catching your clit with each movement. Hands smoothed over the back of your thighs, over your ass, and up your back before moving down the way they came and settled on your ass. Punz moaned beneath you as he finally got the taste of you he so desired. 

Your hand threaded through his blonde locks at the shock of feeling his moans. He seemed to be enjoying this as much as you were. Foolish had decided he was just going to watch for now, but that wasn't good enough for you. 

Catching his pants you tried to tug him back in front of you. "Please?" 

"Fuck," Foolish breathed harshly. "If that's what you want angel," with shaky hands he tugged down his pants and such with one movement. Your tongue darted out to flick over the tip. Watching his face closely for his reaction, you began taking him deeper. He couldn't break eye contact with you. It was hypnotic in a way, watching his dick go further into your throat while your doe eyes fluttered at him. 

Punz pushed against your ass making you rock against his face. Not wanting the attention off him for even a moment. Foolish's hand rested on the back of your head when the movement began.

With every moan you let out that reverberated through him he let out a groan in return. You could barely focus on pleasuring the male in front of you with Punz underneath you. The pleasure had been building rapidly, the blonde beneath desperate to make you scream. His tongue teased your clit, moving down to fuck you open with his tongue. The hand that was dug into his hair attempted to tug him closer, not that you could with how impossibly close he already was. Punz's arms were locked around your legs now, digging into your thighs. He had forced you closer to his face, not caring if he would suffocate. He'd die happy right now if he did. 

"Punz," you gasped pulling off of Foolish. "Punz wait," you trembled. You attempted to get off of him but he wouldn't let you. In fact, this just spurred him on. He didn't care if you wanted you to cum on Foolish's dick, you were going to cum on his tongue first. 

He could feel you clench around his tongue slightly. One of his fingers slipped between and pressed against your clit just right. "Punz- I-," he stopped thrusting just to pull out and suckle on your clit. You were gone. Your nails dug into his hair and Foolish's thigh quivering as you let go on his tongue. Punz eagerly lapped up the mess you created and continued long after you began whining. Punz rocked you against his face, not letting go until Foolish nudged his side. 

Foolish moved to sit in the chair watching as you lifted off of Punz. Legs trembling you made your way over to Foolish. 

"You gonna come ride me, baby?" He giggled as you attempted not to fall. 

You nodded clambering into his lap. Hands helped you hover above his dick, tip bumping against you, before sinking you down. He was huge, splitting you open so much you thought you might break. Foolish just let you sit there for a moment feeling as your walls fluttered around him. Already they were attempting to milk him for his worth. The combination of Foolish sitting deep within you and Punz's wrecked expression had you dizzy. 

Punz laid on the floor for a few moments catching the bit of air he was deprived of from being between your legs. His hair was messed up, cheeks tinted a dark red, not to mention your slick that covered his lips and chin. Punz sat up making eye contact with you. You followed as his finger dragged across the slick you left and watched as he brought it to his tongue to lick it off. 

You couldn't help but let out a whine at the vulgar display, squeezing around Foolish tighter. The raven moaned against your neck. Him having buried his face to keep himself from thrusting animalistic. It was his hot pants by your ear that was sending wave after wave of heat down your body. There was almost a bit of a power surge you were receiving from this sort of effect over the both of them. 

At least until you were reminded of how little power you really had. 

Your legs trembled as you attempted to ride Foolish making him laugh. Punz had done his damage and was still proud of it. "Still Jello? Here let me help," Foolish pinned your arms to your side leaving you unable to move. Not that you needed to. He was plenty strong enough, forcing your body to bounce on his dick. Each deep thrust had you drooling. 

"Look at them," Punz grabbed your face harshly making you watch the cameras at your fellow crewmates searching rooms. "They're looking for you, imagine they come in here and see the reason why you didn't answer their meeting is cause you're too busy getting dicked down," 

He leaned down pressing his lips against yours. His kiss swallowed the moans that Foolish pulled out of you. When he pulled away he muttered. "I think I have a better job for your mouth," he locked eyes with Foolish having a silent conversation. 

It seemed Punz got his way as suddenly Foolish was lifting you and moving to the ground. The raven was on his knees behind you, one hand on your lower back pushing down gently. You couldn't see him but you just knew he was watching the way his cock stretched you out and slowly dragged along your walls. Punz settled in front of you on his knees. Punz shuffled around in his pocket before removing his pants partially. 

"Here," he said, tossing something back to Foolish. 

Cold metal on your back made you jolt. "Careful angel, don't wanna hurt you," you shivered as it traced your back lightly. The knife from earlier now exploring your body. 

"Don't forget about me angel," Punz cooed, drawing your attention back to him. 

It seemed to be a game to them. Who could have your attention the longest? "That's it," he groaned as your hand wrapped around his cock. "Be good now," Too eager to tease you immediately wrapped your lips around him. Punz groaned, fingers digging into your hair. "Mouth like that's gonna take me to heaven," he mumbled. 

Your movements were slow in contrast to Foolishs accelerating hips. Punz hissed every time your tongue dragged along his cock teasingly. Part of him wanted to tightly grasp your hair and take more, but most of him were more than content with becoming putty on your tongue. 

The room was filled with breathy moans and hot pants, it was the only thing you could hear other than the slick sounds of them pushing into you. You barely even noticed the footsteps by the door. They noticed, however.

“Quiet, baby, don't want the others to hear do you?" 

You're not even sure who said it at this point. Your moans muffled by Punz's cock down your throat. You were more concerned with pleasing him than you were about your fellow crewmates hearing your ultimate demise. 

As soon as they had passed Punz scooted back stroking his cock just out of your reach. 

"Sir please," You whined. 

Punz laughed at your pitiful beg. You had fallen apart in their grasp. They held every ounce of your attention and you wouldn't have it any other way. 

"Crying just cause my dick isn't between your lips sweetheart? How pathetic, cmon louder for me," He demanded tapping the tip against your cheek. "You can cry louder. I know you can," 

You didn't get a chance to respond however as now someone else was jealous of your attention being elsewhere. 

Foolish pouted. "Now you're picking favorites?" 

The knife moved once again gently over your skin making you tremble. "I'd like a name too," he whined softly. The title you whined made the weapon clatter to the floor. 

"Master," 

Foolish had dropped it in surprise, now completely focused on pounding into you until you remembered only two words. Sir and Master. The only two you needed to know. 

Punz was back in your mouth, their thrusts immediately lining up. You grasped his thighs hoping to steady yourself as they fucked into you. Hot pleasure burned at your core but you didn't want to cum just yet. You internally pleaded with yourself to not cum. You never wanted this to end. Foolish whined feeling you clench around him repeatedly. His hands squeezed your hips comfortingly, watching your thighs quiver gently. You needed to cum but were holding it back. What a good toy for them. 

‘He leaned over your back and whispered huskily. "Cum," and you did just that, cumming around his cock. You unraveling beneath their eyes reminded them of how close they were. "Oh fuck," Punz gasped, his dick twitching against your tongue. That was all the warning you got before he came down your throat. He took a step back, slipping out of your mouth. A few stray spurts of cum splashed against your cheek. 

The raven behind you was especially close, it was clear in the intensity of his noises. His vocality was already stirring you up for a round two. 

Foolish gave a few more thrusts paired with low grunts before his hips stuttered. Cock buried deep he filled you as much as he could, panting as softly as he did. To your disappointment, he pulled out, hands sliding down your hips. 

Without Punz standing directly in front of you, you whined letting your chest touch the ground. 

Poor crewmate. You've forgotten. Imposters are superior in every way. That includes stamina.  

Foolish's hands never left your body, now sliding down your ass. They weren't done with you yet. His fingers dragged over your sensitive clit and then opened you more to his view. 

"I think you can take a few more baby, don't you?" Punz chuckled, moving around to the back of you.

"Of course they can," Foolish agreed watching some of his cum slip out. "They're making a mess," his whispers sent a shiver down your spine. 

"Maybe they'll clean that up later," 

A pair of different hands grabbed your hips pulling them back to bump against the tip of a cock. "I'm thinking maybe three? Three more sound good, Foolish?" Punz hummed thoughtfully. A low moan escaped him as he pushed in. The fact that Foolish had just fucked you thoroughly and you were still squeezing Punz this hard was godly. 

"Mhm, I just wanna see some pretty tears roll down their cheeks,"

Reminder: DNI = Do Not Interact

If you are a Minor/Ageless blog, Do not follow. Do not comment. Do not reblog. Do not like. DO NOT INTERACT.

Either add your age to your bio/pinned, message me in private, or DNI.

[prelovednikaidou]

his new wife; toji fushiguro [04]

Genre: angst

a/n: tell me what u think abt this chapter. Word count: 3.2k. THIS IS NOT THE ENDING. WE HAVE ONE MORE PART LEFT. 😭

part one ; part two ; part three

update: part five

It was bustling with women inside the packed waiting room. Sounds of cries and whines smell of talcum powder and milk, the waiting area for new mothers were full of people.

She sat far by the corner, holding her tiny ultrasound as she knew no tiredness. This baby was growing inside her. There was a life in her. A warm smile bloomed on her face but it soon faded bit by bit when a young couple took their seats in front of her.

The woman shouldn't be any older than her. Her stomach was already so big, it was scary how she was still able to walk around like that. But it wasn't a wonder when Toji's wife watched the man beside her.

"Slowly, slowly. Do you want to stretch your legs a bit?" He asked but it wasn't a question when he was already kneeling on the floor, took off his wife's flat shoes as he rubbed the sore spots between her joints.

Toji's wife watched the couple and the red bottom heels on her feet have never felt this painful. Somehow, she had the urge to hide her feet from people. She felt like she was missing something.

She knew what she was lacking but she couldn't say it. How could she when almost all new mothers in this waiting room were accompanied by their partners except her?

She didn't dare to look up from her phone when she could feel the stares she received from her sides. Her eyes were glued on her phone screen, she was trying so hard to appear busy but she had been scrolling on the same tab over and over again.

It was humiliating.

And she had never felt this lonely in her whole life as an adult. When being pregnant is a part of adulthood, it was as if she was given a bike to ride when she wasn't taught how. Her husband should be with her but how could she say anything?

"Excuse me, may I sit here?"

She faced her side and another mother with a bulging tummy was waiting for her response. Toji's wife felt incredibly unwell - sick to her stomach because he was supposed to sit there. He was supposed to be a reason she could deny her request.

But what had become that Toji's wife only nodded as her eyes stared at her high heels, "Sure, there isn't anyone to sit there, to begin with."

Perhaps it was due to hormones, it was funny how she shed a few tears just because the seat beside her was empty. Truly funny.

She had been hanging around the kids' department for a while. Looking at the rows of tiny cute clothes, the chubby small pair of shoes, the soft beddings, and bottles. The bright colors, the cute prints, she loved it. she loved it so much yet she couldn't buy it.

she didn't have the luxury like the other parents in this section. She didn't have the luxury to choose. When she touched the soft fabric under her fingertips, her breath became so shaky that she wanted the whole to swallow her whole.

Just swallow her out so she didn't have to crumble in front of anyone. Just do anything to her so she could rest.

The tiny shoes in her hands were a reminder that there wouldn't be any footsteps left because they would never be worn in the first place.

"Fushiguro-san, can you rub my feet?"

Toji was already exhausted, his temple hadn't stopped throbbing for the past few hours and his head was in a terrible headache that he wanted to break and see what was inside his skull.

And now he had to listen to this?

He stood tall on his imposing figure, nearing his bed where his wife was left looking at him. He finally sat by the foot of the bed, he cast his focus on her stretched legs and her feet did seem a little swollen.

But when he rested his hands on his lap, he continued to look at those tiny feet and a wave of nostalgia hit him.

This wasn't the first he encountered a scene like this. When mamaguro was pregnant with Megumi, he did most of the work. As if she was handicapped. But now?

"You said it yourself that you wanted to be a mother. This is one of them. Isn't it? So cherish this feeling while you still can."

"Just rub them a little, I feel uncomfortable because I walked so far today." She softened her voice, eyes blinked so adorably as she was asking a favor but her husband remained stoic.

"Why should I?"

"Because I'm in pain."

Toji let out a chuckle. He loosened his tie, maintaining eye contact with his wife. If it were to be any other husband, they would surely succumb and commit to this small favor after such a reaction but Toji didn't.

"You wouldn't be if you'd listen to me. It was you who brought this up and I didn't say anything about playing along with it."

She just wanted to re-create what she saw in the clinic. The scene where the husband would massage his wife's feet while he talked to her, hands casually rubbed her tummy - it felt funny how she said recreate.

Was carrying a child in her body is just acting?

Yet somehow, she didn't care. She stretched her legs to his way and Toji felt like lately, she had been so clingy to the point he almost mistook her for someone else.

It's only for 2 months, just give in.

So he did. He took her small foot into his hands, a rough palm ran over her sole before he used his middle knuckle to press between her big toe and index toe.

It was crazy but she knew he'd do it. And what was even crazier is she didn't feel like she was afraid of anything anymore. She had lost so much that mere anger of her neglectful husband didn't mean anything.

"I went to the store today. There's a big sale going on. Maybe because it's nearing December, most stores are doing their End Year Sale. We should go out at the weekend, how about that? Megumi told me earlier that his class will do a simple class gathering. I should prepare some food, right?"

Toji didn't reply, only continued to massage her feet. The quicker he did it, the sooner he would get this done. He wanted to soak in a warm bath and sleep right now. He didn't have time to do this little chatty.

He thought she would shut her mouth because that was the usual when she understood that he didn't want to engage in the conversation but she didn't.

She began to scroll down her phone, before she continued, "Don't you think lately Megumi has been gaining weight? Hahahha... he's already cute but now look at his cheeks. Someone might take a bite because it's so chubby. I think I know what I'm gonna cook for his class."

He didn’t reply, switching her foot, and placed it on his lap, the massage routine he was following actually had long ended. But he just couldn't let go of this thin ankle, rubbing the joints, and listened to her talk about her day.

This brought him back to the times where he first married her. She was very talkative, bubbly, and energetic. Like a baby bird. Yet after her youth faded along the passing years, the vibrancy she had became dim and he found it hard to hear her voice.

While dandelions may grow on the grass and withstand the harsh weather - it will inevitably wilt after being stepped over and over again.

Megumi thought that she would neglect him, now that she had another son she can dote to. How wrong was he, she became a lot more gentle - she was like how she first entered his family. It made the loneliness he felt when he was in the crib disappeared in a snap.

Kisses on his forehead, holding hands as she walked him to his school gate, lengthy notes on his lunch box - she was warm. So warm that he wanted to cry, pray to God that he was thankful that she was back.

It felt like he had the whole world in his palms when she hugged him before he went to bed, lips curled into a smile that he wanted to keep as a picture - she was actually alive, and content.

Mom is happy. Mom will stay in this house. Mom will continue to cook delicious snacks and Gumi can continue to watch her. Gumi hopes Mom will give Gumi a boy so Gumi can share toys and cars. Gumi likes Mom. Mom is good and pretty. (22/12/2010)

"Megumi?"

The small kid quickly closed his book, stuffing it under his bed with his face flushed after being flustered at his father's voice. Toji's wife peeped from the door, brows arched a little as she questioned,

"Why aren't you dressed? We're leaving. If you get any late I will leave you behind." She teased.

"Urgh... okay, okay. You're always like this..."

Today, they were going to the shopping mall together because she said that she wanted to buy him a few new clothes, now that he had grown taller... and a little bigger. Whenever someone mentioned his weight, he'd get very upset and defensive but he stopped feeling that way when she hugged him a lot now.

He didn't know what fluffy and squishy mean, but it definitely meant something good because whenever she said it, Megumi would be hugged warmly and it put him in a good mood. Obviously, it has a good meaning.

But that wasn't the only reason why he was excited. Today was his special day. Despite not celebrating with a huge birthday party as he did every year, he felt today was a little special.

"So where are we going?"

She held his hand, walking around the kid's section as she touched the tiny clothes and Megumi's face twisted into a scowl. He brushed her hand away - this was supposed to be his day.

Why was he here, looking around a place where he didn't belong to. He felt like she was showing off about her unborn child. Pouting a little, he thought to himself that he regretted writing down about wanting a brother.

"You bring me here to look things for your kid? I don't want to follow. I want to go home."

She felt like she was bonding with him but it seemed like she thought wrong, he still didn't like her. No matter how much she kept telling herself that she wasn't going to get hurt by his words, it still got away from how she felt.

She kneeled down to his height as she hold to his shoulders, "I'm sorry, it's just that I keep thinking how cute Megumi was as a baby." She touched his cheek, "Sadly I wasn't around when that happened. So I can only imagine you in this. Cute right?"

She attempted to gain his trust again but his eyes sharpened at her words. He scoffed as he replied,

"Why are you happy to see me in that shirt?"

She felt things were going south.

"Only my mom saw me when I wore that. Are you saying that you wanted to be in my house when my mom was around?"

My mom. Her eyes teared up a little as she tried to avoid this conflict.

"That's not what I mean-"

"So you don't want me to be with my mom? You want my dad even when mom was alive? You're so selfish." He pushed her hands away, watching how her face changed and the embarrassment clouded her face when his voice raised into a shout.

A few people began to look to their ways and she felt anxiety rising in her chest.

No, no, I don't mean it like that. Why do you hate me so much?

"You want my dad, me, and that baby in your stomach. Just choose one. Of course, you want that baby, right? You said you love me but look at you now. You're thinking of a way to replace me." He couldn't stop it. He couldn't stop it even when she was already crying in front of him.

Almost like the fear, the anger that was bubbling inside him burst - he couldn't stop his mouth from running off words that he didn't mean. He couldn't stop himself even when everyone began to watch them.

"No wonder you are so kind to me these days. Is this a parting gift before you steal dad from me? Like how you did to mom? I don't think you're this kind to treat me like this. If you want to kick me out then you shouldn't act as you think of me like I'm your son."

How did a simple stroll around a baby's clothing store turn into this? How did a simple boy who was hugging her last night spew daggers that aimed at her heart?

"But I'm not worried about anything because I'm sure that will not like your kid. I know I'm right because dad said he only has one kid and it's me."

And why couldn't she be angry at him? She should be disciplining him, telling him that he was disrespecting her. But why couldn't she step up for her own pride?

Because she wasn't his mother.

She wasn't his mother to scold him, to correct him. Even touching an inch of skin, she was merely a guest. She was loving him with her little experience as a mother but he didn't feel loved at all.

Because she wasn't his mother.

Her eyes were blinded by tears and her chest hurt so much, adrenaline was pumping her blood faster - it felt like her heart was skipping a beat as her step-son continued to degrade her existence in the public.

Honey, please stop and take pity on me. Don't do this to me, Gumi. I can't say anything when you look like it hurt you too.

She simply wanted to show him how he could have matching suits with her unborn son, how her child would have a big brother to look up to.

"Gumi, no... I don't mean it like that, I'm sorry. I'm sorry, let's go home." Her hand reached out but Megumi was already taking a step back, staggering on his feet before he turned around and dashed away from her.

Her parents kept saying that people would keep talking and everything was going to be alright. But why was it only the chatters of people around her became louder and nothing had become alright?

Why did it take her a couple of minutes to access that Megumi had disappeared before her when she felt like the world was turning black?

Her legs were shaky as her head was dizzy and the sharp thumping against her ribs was telling her that her body couldn't handle the stress.

"Gumi! Gumi!" She screamed, frantically searching around as everyone avoided her, parting a sea for her to break through - the public only knew to record but not a single person offered her guidance on where Megumi had wandered off.

Among the whispers, she could hear how people called her a 'homewrecker, a 'slut', a 'cheater', perhaps from the gist they got from Megumi's words.

But she wasn't a cheater. She wasn't a homewrecker. She wasn't a slut.

Because if she was all above that, she didn't have to work this hard. She didn't have to put her pride into a gamble.

How was she a cheater when her own husband didn't acknowledge her existence before and after marriage?

How was she a homewrecker when she never knew there was a home, to begin with?

How was she a slut when her husband slept with her only to call out to another woman's name?

Was this love? Was this really a love when it had been so long since she felt loved? Was this love when she began to doubt if she met the right person at the wrong time?

Was this love when she couldn't see herself as a person anymore?

Because if it was, then let this love ended here.

Somewhere out there, there was a street clown who began to twist the balloons in his hands into shapes, and she saw the familiar hairstyle among the crowd.

There were blue, yellow, pink, orange, purple, white balloons and in each passing minute, one by one - the balloons kept on getting bigger. Megumi watched the whole thing without a tint of amusement.

She should be here in a minute, right? He sighed. He knew that he was going over-board and he should apologize sooner but why was he feeling restless for no reason? He began to look around him again and thought,

'This isn't too far. What's taking her so long?'

As he watched the clown did his job, among the tied balloons, one of them - which was a white balloon, had its knot loosened and it began to slip away from the other balloons.

Megumi stood up, hesitant to grab the balloon as he watched it flew higher and higher - growing larger and larger, nearing the flaring heat of the Sun.

The clown saw that Megumi almost tripped on his foot. But Megumi was too busy looking at the white balloon so the clown shouted, "Look out!"

Almost like he was in a daze, the balloon popped when it had reached the highest point, and all he heard after that were the horrific screams, the boundless sounds of honking, and the flowing stream of vehicles stopped.

"Damn, this hurts so much-" He cursed a little and noticed that everyone began to surround the main road in front of the shopping complex.

He thought it was stupid for people to make a crowd like that so he stayed around the clown's stall a little longer and the soft lyrics echoed from the speaker made him think of her.

I just want you close, where you can stay forever.

He stood up and began his pace to where he left off. He shouldn't be like this. She had done her very best to become his mother. Though she was a replacement.

You can be sure, That it will only get better.

She never once raised her hands on him unless to pet his head or his cheeks. She never raised her voice at him unless when she was a little excited to tell him how proud she was.

You and me together, through the days and nights.

He wasn't angry at her. He was simply scared. He was scared of all the love she offered to him would vanish. He even wished for her to be the evil stepmother.

I don't worry cause, Everything's gonna be alright.

However, he had already got a taste of how warm her love was. How being loved by her made him believe that a mother was what completed a child. And if he were to lose her, that he would lose himself again.

So why did it feel like someone stabbed him in his chest, twisting the knife deeply and tore a hole as he saw the familiar curls sprawled on the ground?

Why did he feel like his blood ran cold and his heart stopped pumping when he saw a piece of the torn bracelet he worked all night working on wasn't tied around the wrist of its owner?

He said that he hated her. But he found himself looking forward to her sweet kisses, her soft voice in each time she called to him, her soft fragrance in her hugs.

Was this the hate he swore to keep when he couldn't stop crying to her name and there wasn't an answer?

Was this a hatred when he couldn't stop holding her cold hand and her fingers didn't curl to return his affection?

Was this a hatred when the thought of her leaving him forever made his whole body shook in fright?

Was this a hatred when he was screaming to all his might, for God to take him along so he accompanies her in the cold grave?

Was this a hatred when he couldn't stop his tears and regretted his whole life like a sinner?

Was this a hatred when he knew that he lost everything because of himself and this was a sin he had to redeem for his whole life?

"M-mom... please, I- I'm so sorry... please... Mom, don't do this to me. Mom," The paramedics tried their best to separate him from his mother but when they saw a slight movement from the victim, their arms fall to their sides.

It was too pitiful. A mother who was hanging by a thread and a child who just couldn't let go. Megumi's face was a mess, strings of snort and tears, his face got closer to her.

He saw his father's figure was entering the circle but he didn't care. He looked desperately for a point in her to keep her eyes awake but using her last strength, she closed his eyes with her palm.

She didn't want him to remember this sight of her. She didn't want him to grow up and blame himself. Because he was only a child. Even if he wasn't from her womb, she was the person who had fed him with her own hand.

She was the person who cleaned his bottom when he was unwell. She was the one who treated his fear on rainy days and now he could count the raindrops.

It was true that she didn't share an ounce of blood with him, but who could have blamed her? She couldn't help but love him because he was the only chance for her to fulfill this greed as a family.

Megumi really wanted to see her for the last time but this was her request and soon, Toji appeared by her side, his messy appearance wasn't his usual.

As her breath was shaky, the paramedics wanted to urge more but judging from the heavy bleeding, she knew that she couldn't be saved anymore.

So for her step-son, she whispered a simple wish, a wish that wasn't really appreciated every year because she was only a chess piece inside the huge board of the Fushiguro family.

"Mommy loves dearest Gumi the most."

And when her hearing was blocked - her head felt like cracking open as everything rushed there and her hazy eyes began to lose their sight. Only with the rough shadow of a tall man, she knew that was her husband.

Even during death, he didn't hold her close because everything was a reminder of her to him. So when he inched his head closer to her, he wanted her to close her eyes and rest, so she could delay whatever disaster that might come.

But in one breath, she only whispered, "At last, I chose my child over everything."

Taglist: @ladyalicevii @valoruzky @selenelle @sleepyamaya @missroro @jeankirschteinsbabymama @i-weiliz-i @alientee @iliveforjin @obsessivesoul @baji-keisukes-wife @the-amaranthine @rafzaha @pros-posts @kristinecharmm @luviewoo @redsparko​ @yumekos-gamble​

[nofoundboy]

Holding out for a hero

Jason Vorhees x Male reader

Tw: homophobic aggressions, a slur

Your calves burned with every step you took. You were completely exhausted but you couldn't stop, not when for sure, 5 guys would finish what they started.

And heavens no, you definitely hadn't planned a head trauma for dinner.

Somehow you had run all the way to the woods. You'd passed that dreary cabin and now all you could see were trees and bear traps.

"Shit shit shit shit" you whispered as you stumbled again. You knew that was that darned Crystal Lake but you couldn't be bothered to remember the history of that place. You just had to keep running.

God, you needed help, now you had to admit it. You never liked to admit when you couldn't do something alone, but now you needed someone to give you shelter or stop them.

But who could show up in that place at night? No one was stupid enough to wander around a place like that at the dead of night, so you had to keep running even if your chest burned and your legs felt like jelly.

The aftertaste of blood in your mouth didn't help and even less so the fact that you had no belongings left. With no money, what would you do if you were saved?

Then, thanks to your bad habit, your mind began to travel.

Oh, Bonnie Tyler were you so in need of a hero, one and big and strong? You doubted she was as needy as you were now.

And you had given them a fight. You were used to that and well knew what you were up against when you showed those girls how to voguing. That was implicitly forbidden in the straightest place you had ever seen.

At least they'd get some scratches and bruises from you but none of that would be worth it if you ended up a bloody mass.

Very grim, back to Miss Tyler.

Yes, a strong Hercules ready for battle. I mean, if anything you could occupy yourself while running was imagining that. Thinking about the possibility of dying wasn't your style.

You heard their voices in the distance and so you felt your bruises widen simply in fear. What would they do when they came before you?

No, damned brain, you had to go back to the hero.

You had never been too picky, but being protected at that moment by someone sweet, good-natured and extremely strong like Superman didn't sound bad at all.

"You're finished you fucking faggot" your calves wouldn't go any further, no matter how much you wanted them to. They had gotten to you and now...shit.

You didn't want to die being called that.

Your head did its best to isolate the insults, the humiliating words. The crescendo of Tyler's hero came on, your mind playing it at full volume, just in time to see the machete lopping off the head of one of them.

The same then plunged into the chest of the next one and although the other screamed and cried for help at the top of his lungs, it didn't stop him from being killed by an accurate slash from the machete.

And oh shit. There was your hero.

You couldn't see him completely thanks to your black eye and the tears you had thought were your last but hey, you wouldn't stop watching your savior.

You had never been good with statures but you could define him as a "perfect to take refuge in his arms". His face was hidden with an old hockey mask and his arms...oh, his arms. Big and powerful as trunks.

Bonnie Tyler's blessing right in front of your eyes.

You curled up in a ball on the floor. The giant looked at you with his head cocked to one side, curious. You were clearly not a threat, not like the others.

"Thank you" you mumbled with a trickle of your voice.

He didn't put down the machete, but offered you his hand,gently.

You looked at him once more. He was less scary with that confused dog stance.

You took his hand and with extreme care, more than you would have ever thought from someone so big, he lifted you off the ground.

You couldn't say for sure but you thought you saw his ears going red and that made you smile.

"I'm Y/N" you replied this time louder, following him through the forest even though every step hurt. "What's your name?"

He shook his head and pointed to his mask.

You understood then that he could not speak.

You kept walking until you reached the huts.

"They were going to kill me. Beat me to death" the sudden realization of what could have been your fate, hit you. You no longer had any stupid thoughts to replace it with. You could have died.

"And you saved me. You saved me from dying like so many others" your voice cracked but you didn't want to cry. Not anymore.

"Jason...you're Jason" and you remembered. A nasty drunk telling the story of the poor drowned boy. The tormented and ignored child. The neglect. The desperation and vengeance of his mother.

"Thank you, Jason. Thank you" slowly, not wanting to scare him, placing your head on his chest.

He dropped the machete with a jerk and looked at you in surprise behind the mask.

He had never experienced such gratitude with anyone other than his mother. No one had ever sought comfort from him and yet there you were, seeking his warmth.

When his hand gently patted your head, you knew there was your hero and he was so much better than Bonnie ever sang.

[theaudacitytowrite]

Softy

Loki x Fem!Reader

A/N: I apologize beforehand for this fic. This is a recycled fic I wrote in ~2016. It’s cheesy, it’s cliché and I love it... even though I cringed a bit while rewriting^^ And of course it’s way too long because I can’t controle myself.

Summary: Thanks to a mix up Loki and you have to share a hotel room.

word count: 3.434

"What do you mean there was a mix up?" you groaned as you stared at the front desk clerk. Your muscles ached and all you wanted to do was to take a hot shower and fall into bed. The mission Tony had sent you on had been more complicated and stressful than expected. Thankfully Tony had the kindness to book some rooms in a nearby hotel for you and your fellow avengers, instead of having the five of you drive for multiple hours in this exhausted state.

"We booked your room twice. I'm really sorry Ms. Y/L/N" he apologized vividly, distress clearly visible on his face.

"So now I don't have a room?" you tried to wrap your mind around this situation.

"I'm afraid so." the clerk mumbled, "Or you could discuss it with the gentleman for whom we accidentally booked it as well."

"And that is who?" you huffed exaggerated.

"A certain... Loki Laufeyson? His room was payed with the same card." the clerk told you.

"Yeah, yeah I know him." you nodded already absent in your thoughts, pondering who else you could ask to share a room with. There was no way you would ask Peter again. He tended to keep you awake the whole night because he loved sleep overs and would practically never shut up.  Nat probably shared a room with Wanda as per usual. Maybe they had a spare couch for you to sleep on. Even the floor would be less humiliating than asking Loki to share a room.

"Did I hear my name?" Loki suddenly chimed in from behind and placed his luggage right next to you.

"What did I miss?" he looked at you friendly.

"Well... this nice clerk just told me that they had a mix up with the rooms and accidentally booked both of us for the same room." you pressed through clenched teeth, trying to keep your cool.

"Oh." Loki frowned, "Aren't there any other rooms?"

"I'm afraid not, Sir. We're booked up." the clerk nervously scratched his neck.

"Then I suppose we have to share." Loki inspected, his face surprisingly cheery.

"Really?" you asked dumbfounded, "I could ask the girls if I can bunk with them or sleep on the floor or something. I don't want to invade your privacy."

"You're not invading anything, darling." Loki chuckled, "We had a tiring and strenuous day love, you're not going to sleep on the floor. And if someone would have to search for another room that would be me. So if it's ok with you we can share the room. After all, it's just one night."

"Eh.. yeah sure. I got no problem with that." you practically stuttered.

It wasn't that you didn't like Loki, you were just surprised that he seemed to be open for this idea. Not everybody would be that comfortable to share a bed with someone they only see at work. But maybe this would finally be the day the two of you got closer. Something you really longed for. You always had been intrigued by him. You could swear behind this facade of sarcasm and grumpiness, there had to be a softer core to him. You didn't want to lean out of the window too far but behind every scary and intimidating guy seemed to wait a soft and cuddly man. You just have to get to know them. And that was what you tried since Loki had joined the avengers.

You were already friends with Thor so you thought it couldn’t be that hard to befriend Loki as well. But it hadn't worked out quite like you had hoped.  By this point you were certain that Loki thought you were just another nuisance he had to tolerate when he lived in the Stark tower. That's why it surprised you even more that he was so willing to share a room and even a probably way too small bed.

~

You stood besides Loki in the elevator, your head hanging low while anxiously biting your lips. Loki noticed your uneasiness as he glanced at you out of the corner of his eye. He cleared his throat.

"Are you ok?" he murmured hoarsely. You must have flinched because suddenly his voice was soft and soothing. "We don't have to share rooms if it makes you uncomfortable."

"What? No, that's not what troubles me. I just don't wanna bother you or make you uncomfortable or even annoy you." you babbled hastily.

"Why would you make me uncomfortable?" Loki raised his eyebrow and looked skeptical at you, as if it was impossible for you to be annoying. Well he hadn't have to spend so many years with you like you had yourself. So you could forgive him his naivety.

"I just thought... well we're not the closest. So I thought it might be a bit weird if we shared a bed." you told him truthfully.

"You're cute." he chuckled deeply, "I think I'm the one who needs to worry more that I could make you uncomfortable."

"Why that?" you asked puzzled.

"Well I can be a bit cold some times and not everyone is a fan of sarcasm. At least that's what I get told a lot." he shrugged, his eyes gazing at the elevator display.

"Intimidating? Nah, you're way too kind to be intimidating. And coincidentally I'm able to handle sarcasm." you had found your confidence again. If he wasn't uncomfortable with this, why should you be?

"Oh thank you. I don't hear that very often." his eyes found yours. He gave you an unreadable look. The elevator made its "ping" sound to inform you that you had arrived on your floor. But you didn't react. You just... stared at eachother. As you became aware of what you were doing you cleared your throat and broke your little staring contest.

"Then let's go get our room sorted out." you exclaimed grabbing your duffle bag.

"Lead the way." Loki agreed and followed you behind closely.

~

To your relief you had a bed in which comfortably two people could fit in. At least you did not have to lay press against eachother... for the beginning. You knew that your sleeping position wasn't the best for sharing a bed with someone. Especially not someone who was your colleague. Because no matter how you would fall asleep, you always woke up sprawled over the whole bed. No matter who laid next to you, or how many barriers were put in between of you. That's why you had stopped sharing beds a long time ago. One time you had roomed together with Wanda and she had the grand idea to push the beds together. You had warned her of your habit but she just waved you off saying 'It can't be that bad.' She had changed her mind when she had woken up in you death grip the next day, desperately trying to wriggle out of it because she needed to go to the toilet. Luckily she was able to wake you up after a while when she intruded your dreams when shaking and kicks didn't do anything. It was close but thankfully she could prevent the worst from happening.

As you tried to think of a solution to not wake up on Loki or with tangled limbs, Loki had already made himself feel at home. He had already showered and left the bathroom to you. You gathered your pj's and your sponge bag and headed for a shower too.

~

Half an hour later you were ready for bed. As you opened the bathroom door you gulped hard. Loki rummaged around in his luggage in just his boxer shorts. An image you didn't want to forget any time soon. You forced yourself to look away, not to be caught while drooling over this sight. No, you would try to be casual about it... like an adult would.

"We're really doing this." you mumbled under your breath, still a bit light headed from the pleasant surprise. You walked over to your bag, putting away your dirty clothes.

"Sexy." Loki grinned at you as you turned around.

"Ah shut up!" you flipped him off. You knew that you didn't look the cutest in your stripped pj pants and your oversized shirt. But you hadn't anticipated that anybody than yourself would see you like that tonight.

"You did great today." Loki commented as he slipped under the covers.

"Thank you." you couldn't bite back the smile on your lips, "You weren't too bad yourself."

"What an honour to hear that out of your mouth." he grinned, "I didn't take you for someone who would be so smooth with daggers."

"Well, how did you expect me to fight?"

"I don't know. But definitely not as someone that graceful and quick. It almost looked like you were dancing." he mused.

"Is that supposed to be a compliment?" you sat on top of the covers, eyeing him suspicious.

"Am I that bad at it?" he laughed, "I like watching you fight."

"Why's that?" you asked intrigued by his statement. Lokis gaze wandered to the duvet as he straightened the crinkled fabric.

"Only because..." he cryptically answered, "Let's get some sleep!" he distracted promptly.

"Don't you wanna get under the covers? I bet that would be way more comfortable than shivering above them." he teased.

"Sure." you looked at him pensive but decided to let his comment slide. You shimmied under the covers and laid on your back for a while. You felt that Loki was glancing at you every now and then. He too laid on his back. Maybe he wasn't as comfortable and confident as he had proclaimed earlier.

"We have more in common than I thought." he blurted out after a while.

"How's that?" you glanced at him.

"Just fighting technique wise... and style."

"And that just came to your mind now?" you were curious what he would answer now.

"No... I mean I kind of was aware of it the whole time. I mean I noticed it a while ago when we hang out together with Thor and the others. I guess it just came to my mind now." he explained.

"Ahh..." you weren't able to think of anything else right then. Your mind went completely blank.

"Why are we never talking?" Loki thought out loud suddenly.

"I dunno." you shrugged. And you really didn't know because you always tried to strike up a conversation with him. But often times he would just stand there silent next to you, nodding or occasionally even giving you a monosyllabic answer.

Loki went silent again, back to starring at the ceiling. You felt bad for not being able to keep the conversation going. But you just didn't know about what. Rummaging through your brain your blurted out the first thing that came to your mind.

"You know what I will never understand?" you asked while starring at the ceiling.

"What?" he looked at you.

"Why do hotels only put one blanket on a double bed?" Loki snorted.

"Interesting thoughts..." he snickered.

"But for real though." you turned to your side so you could look at him, "These are the questions of importance!"

"Then enlighten me, Y/N." he chuckled, "What's so bad about those blankets?"

"Who in their right mind thinks that two full grown people can share a blanket without getting into a fight? I'd say that's the number one reason why relationships fail." Loki shook his head in disbelieve and pinched the bridge of his nose laughing. He thought about it for a while before he rolled over on his side too, facing you.

"The way I see it, they do that to bring people closer together. Because if both of us want enough blanket, we need to lay close, perhaps we even have to cuddle." his eyes never left yours.

"Us?" you stuttered quietly. Lokis eyebrows raised up and he broke your gaze, clearing his throat.

"I-I meant like people in general." he corrected himself embarrassed. You face palmed yourself mentally for ruining this moment.

"Let's get some sleep now, for real. The day was stressful and we have to get up early tomorrow." Loki reached to his bedside lamp and turned it of, his back facing you now. You could've kicked yourself in that moment. You watched him for a moment, pondering if you should say something. But you had ruined enough for tonight. You decided to turn around as well, turning your lamp off in the process.

You overthought the moment over and over again in your head. Trying to figure out if you could've said anything else. Something that wouldn't have left him feel embarrassed and probably humiliated. It didn't take long until sleep overcame you.

~

After what seemed like half an hour of sleep you slowly woke up. Something, or better, someone pulled softly on your hair. You stirred a bit and figured it must've gotten caught under Loki when he had stirred in his sleep. Only when it happened again you woke up from your sleep. You remained still for a moment to be sure that Loki didn't just accidentally strive you again. You were about to fall back to sleep when you felt his his fingers gently combing through your hair again.

"Still awake?" you whispered into the darkness When there wasn't an answer you decided to turn around. The moon light that fell through the windows was just bright enough that you could make out Lokis eyes. With big horrified eyes he starred back at you. Would've been a bit brighter you would have seen his face being flushed in a bright red color.

"Erm.. I-I..." he stuttered, probably ashamed of being caught while playing with your hair, "I'm sorry, did I wake you."

"Yeah you did. But that's not the problem. Did you play with my hair?" you chuckled. Loki visibly relaxed when he realized that you weren't angry or weirded out.

"....no?" he lied, even though he probably knew there was no point in denying, "I'm sorry it looked so soft and I couldn't resist." he finally confessed. You chuckled on how flustered he had become.

"I'm really sorry. I had a hard time falling asleep and your hair just looked so soft. And I see Wanda and Nat playing with your hair all the time... and I kinda was curious if it's really as soft as they always claim..." he blushed heavily, "I know it's weird and I'm really sorry."

"You don't need to be embarrassed! I'm used to people running their hands through my hair. It's not weird, don't worry. And, did it reach your expectations?" you asked him cheekily.

"It has outdone them actually." he grinned coyly.

"You know, you could've found out much earlier, if you just had asked." you nuzzled into my pillow.

"...really?" you nodded, "So you wouldn't mind if I'd do it again?"

"Not at all. I actually quite like it when someone plays with my hair. It's really soothing." you shrugged. Loki looked at you for a while, seemingly thinking about your words.

"So you're absolutely fine when I do it, too?" he wanted to clear it up a final time.

"Nope, not a problem at all." you grinned. Slowly and almost hesitant his left arm rose towards your hair again. He twisted a strand of your hair in between his fingers cautiously. His gaze slowly wandered from his fingertips to your eyes.

"It really is unbelievably soft." he gushed. You giggled and made yourself a bit more comfortable by scootching a little bit closer to him, snuggling into your shared blanket.

"Now that that's cleared you can go to sleep. Just close your eyes." you established and he followed your instructions. When his eyes were closed, you scanned his face shamelessly. The light of the moon made him look ethereal. His black locks fell tousled in his face, framing his beautiful face. His high cheekbones looked like they could cut glass, yet his sleepy expression contrasting softly. It surely was a picture for the gods. With a content smile you let your eyes fall shut as his hands continued to gently caress your scalp. A pleased sigh left your lips. After a few seconds you could feel his gaze burning on your face again. You slowly opened your eyes again to see him staring, his intensity making you blush a little.

"That's quite the opposite of closing your eyes. No wonder you have a hard time falling asleep." you mocked.

"I know... it's just that I'm not used to sleep next to such a beautiful women. You make me all nervous." You were glad that Loki couldn't see the bright red that flushed your face in the dim room, at least that's what you hoped.

"Since when are you so cheesy?" you playfully pushed his face away with your hand. He chuckled and returned to watch you closely.

"I'm not cheesy, just hopelessly romantic!" you felt his warm hand hovering above your ribs. When he lowered his icy fingertips on your exposed skin where your shirt had ridden up a bit, you yelped out.

"Stop tickling, Loki! That's not fair!" you squealed in between laughs. You tried to wiggle out of his grasp helplessly but it was pointless. Your limbs were thrown in various directions until you hit something and a muffled "oof" escaped into the darkness. Lokis hands were gone in an instant.

"Oh gosh, Loki, I'm sorry." you were still a giggling mess.

"I practically asked for it." he huffed in pain. Once you pulled yourself together, you reached out for his face and cupped it in between your warm hands.

I'm really sorry." you pouted, "Can I make it up to you?" You could see him pondering for a moment, his gaze never leaving yours.

"...actually I think you can." he stopped, thinking about his next words carefully, "How about... you know what, nevermind."

"What is it?" you smiled at him.

"Eh... I really don't want to push my luck." he bit his lip.

"Tell me." you insisted.

"Well you pushed me to say it." he feigned sheepishness, "And you did tell me to ask if I had something on my mind..."

"Just spill it Laufeyson." you laughed, hitting his chest playfully. Loki smiled at you before he began to speak again.

"Well I was wondering... if your hair is even softer than it looks... will it be the same for your lips?" he breathed. Loki took you by surprise and you looked at him in a daze. Had he really said what you had heard? Or were you still dreaming?

"I don't think I can answer that subjectively.. I guess you have to find out for yourself."

'Where did that came from?' you asked yourself. But you had no time to think about that sudden burst of confidence as Lokis lips dangerously hovered near yours. Suddenly you became super aware of the body heat that radiated off of him. And his scent that normally infatuated you, made you feel dizzy. You couldn't bare this feeling of anticipation anymore as you closed the space between your lips. Loki leaned over you as I wrapped my hands around his neck to get even closer to him. As he pulled away he was breathing heavily, a wide grin spread over his lips.

"Wow." he gasped, "Softer than I imagined." he said before he pecked your lips once again.

"Just had to be sure." he chuckled making you giggle in response. Loki laid besides you again, his hand softly grasping yours, entwining your fingers. He smiled at you content.

"Can I just say that this mix up is the best that could've happen to me?" his husky voice made you shiver, "Else I probably wouldn't have had the guts to talk to you."

"Really? But why?" you asked amazed, "I always thought you didn't like me. I assumed that's why we never talked. Am I that intimidating?" you teased.

"What can I say... I'm shy too sometimes." he shrugged.

"That makes you even more adorable." you smiled at him warmly.

"As if anybody couldn't like you!" he shook his head and pulled you close to him. His head resting against the crown of your head comfortably. You smiled against his chest content as you breathed in his scent.

"Oh and you were right." you mumbled into his chest.

"With what?" he mumbled sleepily, on the verge of falling asleep.

"Sharing a blanket ain't that bad if it's the right person you're sharing it with." Loki chuckled, pressing a soft kiss to the top of your head.

~

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Let me know if you want to be added:)

[muffindaddystyles]

Someone hurts Y/N at work; and Harry’s owner of the company.

Angry young man CEO!H very protective of his lovie :)))))))))))))

It was Tuesday. Tiring Tuesday is what Y/N calls them to be because they lurk in the middle of week and drags you after a Monday. Today, it’s the worst fucking Tuesday since the day she started working at this company.

Harry offered her. More to say tried to convince her with his sweet puppy tactics, tried to lure her in with his seductive begging and would mumble the same thing in her sweaty neck while balls deep in her, “Please sweet toots ... promise I wouldn’t be there to take ye' interview, please work in my company.” He squished her sides in desperation. Y/N whined, mind too occupied in the way he’s leaking into her, the head of his cock angled to rub at her spongy wall making her hug herself into him.

“I could be a very hard boss in my office, ‘s all ‘m saying.” He wiggled his brows at her playfully, hissing when his double joke earned him a tight fit around his prick and he was soon forgetting all of it when she canted her hips to let him slick deeper inside her.

It’s not that; Y/N doesn’t wants to work at his company. When her boyfriend asked her so sweetly and stout-heartedly. Call him a sap but he actually wants to be closer to her in every possible chance he gets – she gives him an unyielding amount of comfort and happiness when she’s with him.

There’s this silver of pride he wants to take (since he’s the biggest narcissists) in being a power couple, because in the end everything will be theirs.

But she doesn’t want to seem like she took advantage of him. She didn’t study and worked hard many years to be called dependent on her boyfriend. She wanted to find her first proper job herself – feel all the odds and jitters of her firsts after UNI.

Harry called the battles off knowing his little stubborn baby’s too much a wiggler and he believes in her and he’s very proud of her previous achievements, he just wants to see her happy working with him or not.

She indeed got it. She was finally a design editor at a grand magazine company, excited to meet her boss who’s one of her absolute favourite graphic designers in the industry.

Harry and her celebrated her baby step towards her success by going out at this cafe which had cats you can pet and love on.

He was blissed to see her this happy, considering it a win win situation. But she doesn’t need to know? Does she? And Harry didn’t do anything suspicious? Did he? Nobody even know who she's! And if Y/N wants that, he’ll have it that way.

Soon her enthusiasm deflated like a sorrowful balloon whirling in the air for seconds before falling on the ground and getting it’s existence neglected, because, her boss was the meanest bitch alive.

At the moment, Y/N forced the pertinacious lump of pathetic tears down her throat, not blinking to dry out the moisture threatening to fall from her waterline feeling humiliation creep up her skin and making her want to shrink into herself and never show her face.

She listens patiently and optimistically as her boss practically screams at her for not liking the designs Y/N worked to modify for damn 62 hours and the Karen still had an audacity to degrade, Y/N.

Y/N gasped, stumbling back in fright shock when the file that had her precious designs composed in it flew and hit Y/N, the ragged corner of it scratching Y/N’s delicate skin and her boss was spinning away from her to stare coldly at the bustling city outside through the window drowning into fumes and anger.

Y/N opened her mouth, guppy like. Wanting to say something back and call her out on her act but she felt like her voice got strangled into her chest.

ShitShitShitShit.

Hammering in her brain when she felt something warm oozing from her skin and she’s panicking, wiping a vicious streak of blood from her jaw with her trembly fingers and scuttled straight to the washroom before anyone was able to see her in such vulnerable condition.

She had enough of it and left out of there without a word to anyone, not even to her cubby mate. She bottled all the emotions that were rattling against her bones to flood out of her each pore, until she could reach her home and once she did she was having a humongous and ominously scary breakdown, glad that Harry was stuck in meetings and the house was all of hers to cry ugly.

Once she was all blue lips, puffy and swelled up cheeks and eyes, nest of a hairstyle and all burned up lungs she was calming herself down with deep breaths just Harry taught her.

Scrubbing and cleaning herself off then going to bed without waiting for Harry, something very rare and the right hit in the nail for him to know she isn’t feeling well.

He was welcomed by silence. No dinner, just leftovers in fridge and his insides became all crummy and not very pleasant when he tailed to the living room and wasn’t met by his lovebug; either cramming her head to sketch down designs with an ipad in her lap while a buzz of random Netflix show accompanies her, dossing off cutely with hundreds of her study journals and magazines messed around her on the floor, or her in sleeping pyjamas with food already set up on the coffee table and brightening the whole room with her squeals when Harry announces his presence.

None of that instead he finds her in their bedroom, drowned under layers of blankies and her stuffies with room lit dark.

He coos softly, mattress dipping down from his weight and his heart expands and melts all around his other organs at how adorable she looks sleeping in his hoodie. He chuckles shaking his head at the way she has the strings of the hoodie squeezed around her head, not sure how she’s able to breath at how tight it seems around her neck.

Doing his own routine he was slipping into the bed, sighing from the warmth and how toasty she has made the bed already.

He bunched her against his chest and kissed her head then spooned her up in his arms, lips fluttering into a smile when she hummed and sniffed basking into his scent.

“Oi sleepy.” He whispers down at her cupping her neck and giggles softly when she whines mushing her cheek against his chest only to grunt sleepily and muffle her yelps into his sweatshirt.

Harry’s brows shoots up into slight bafflement then dips down into a frown when he slipped his calloused palm under her hoodie to cradle her jaw and felt something graze against his thumb that was about to press into her soft skin to bring her for a night kiss.

“Hey...” He perches himself on elbows, switching on the lamps and ignores her groans grasping the blanket she was about to pull over herself, huffing at him to let her sleep but Harry’s more stubborn than her if it involves assuring himself she’s okay and right now she’s not and Harry was already feeling it in his bones.

“Lemme see.” He persists gently, peeling the blankets and the hoodie off her head while she’s still stirring into sleep not able to open her eyes how much she tries because of the exhaustion dumped on her from whole day.

He stares at the wound she did a shit effort to cover with a gauze messily over her jaw and tiny bit area of her neck, a long bandage reaching to her ear and Harry tries to think rationally and not freak out as he touches it with cautious fingertips.

“What ... the –- fuck, Y/N what is...is this?” His mouth falls slack. His ears buzzing for a moment and he wraps his arm around her shoulder to bring her up as he leans them against the bedhead.

He feels bad when she knuckles at her eyes warily and mumbles something that’s barely audible.

“What happened, baby? Talk t’me? How did y'hurt yourself so bad?” Worried and fearful. He bombs her with questions not waiting for her to be fully awake and his heart breaks miserly upon focusing his gaze on her face, her angelic face that’s now soaked with sadness –- she’s been crying.

His loves been crying and he wasn’t there for her.

“Who did this to you?” Y/N's eyes widens abruptly. The alertness in them vivid for Harry to see under the lamp glow and she gasps, nose twitching and lip wobbling as Harry grabbed her chin and ducked to her eyelevel to ask her tenderly with a layer of strictness under his tone, “’M asking, Who did this to you, Y/N?” Her fragile heart could already take so much and she strangled out a sob lowering her head down in embarrassment.

“’M.. I’m —-.. no –..not telli –-..telling you,” She hiccups breathlessly, shaky fingers fisting onto the blanket thrown over Harry’s lap and he holds her hands kissing them gently, “I’ll know it one way or another baby. Don’t force me to get outta my way to find —–“ His soul stabbing glare was enough for Y/N to ramble and at first he thought he didn’t heard her right, that she was mumbling too much but when the reality seeped in gradually Harry almost froze in his spot.

“I know it’s very shameful —..” Y/N stammers barely able to get in a breather and Harry’s head snapped at her words, removing his nails away from making little graves in his palms and his jaw which almost felt like breaking from the hinges from how painfully furious he had it set relaxes as he tries to calm himself down and not to grab his keys and drive to that bitch's house to trash her place.

Because how fucking dare she treat anyone like that in his own fucking company.

“Hey, hey. Now none of that toots. Look at me darling, oh my sweet moppet ... shh.” It slices his heart in pain to see Y/N like this -- so small and disheartened. How dare she hurt his such delicate, sweet, loving girl like that? How!?

“You shouldn’t be ashamed of yourself moppet. She should be, fo’ being such a heartless prick.” He spat, his guts full of bitter and hatred. His skin hot, his grip on her tightening protectively and his chin quivers trying to lock all his anger inside and not to burst out like a pressure cooker.

“I’ll deal with her tomorrow.” He nods curtly to himself, poking his tongue to wet his grimacing lips and Y/N was too woolly to get what’s he’s saying.

His gaze flitters back on her. His demeanour turned incredibly soft and gentle for her smooching a big generous kiss to her salty lips and then to both of her cheeks cared in both of his palms, “Are y'okay? D'you want me to take you to hospital?” She shakes her head mewling and melting and caressing herself into his wrist.

“Why didn’t you call me baby?” He asks her doing anything in his power to mask the hurt in his tone and sighs touching his forehead to her's when Y/N sniffled, “Didn’t wan’ you to worry.” He slid his forearm under her bum and scooched her atop of him, patching tiny careful pecks to her jaw.

“But, that’s love moppet. Worryin’ bout you, takin’ care of ye' and beating anyone raw who even dares to have evil intentions towards you,”

“Remember the time y'snubbed that one guy’s oh so expensive shoes who was very rude to me at one of your graduations party?” His simper turning into a proper ironic grin when she giggled hoarsely nodding along and the tension in his muscles released watching her getting better.

“Proper broke his big toe with your heel darling.” He giggles with her and then Y/N realised how sad and awful Harry’s feeling, how it’s hurting him the same way it hurt her an year ago.

“How about we have a glass of milk .... it’ll help us sleep less grumpy y'know.” He murmurs in the crook of her neck, elbow cocooned safely around her shoulder blade as he kisses the side of her head again and again nose buried in her hair to smell her treacly smell.

.

In the morning he was tragic to hear Y/N sound so heartbroken and dejected as she told him, “I’m going to resign and accept your offer.” Her smile small and sad, hugging him looping her limbs around his torso lazily.

“’kay baby, but first eat your brekkie.” He kissed her hair and squished her pout when he moved away to make some calls to his assistant.

Y/N had no-idea what he was upto. Glad that he was driving her to the company and that he was immensely supportive of her decision, her insides pooled with warmth and giddiness when he tried to cheer her up with his silly jokes and singing along the radio murmuring rubbish whenever he forgot the lyrics.

She was utterly confused when upon reaching he was giving the keys to valet boy to park his car and interviewing their fingers in a strong grip before leading her inside, even though she should be the one to do so.

She sputters a, “Huh?” when instead of telling her he’d wait for her in the lobby he’s rounding the corner towards the elevators and turns his wrist to push her infront of him to keep her closer to himself all the time.

When the doors are sliding apart the people scurrying outside halts for a moment, not looking Harry in eyes and keeping their heads low.

Phones were already rung in the building that Mr. Styles will be coming un-announced and everyone should be prepared to face the consequences if they stumble upon him – because well he isn’t in such a nice mood to start with.

“Harry.” She pokes him in ribs feebly, stepping away from him feeling timid due to few pair of eyes in elevator watching her awkwardly and maybe judgingly.

The tension in space could be cut through knife, as if everyone’s holding their breaths and she pouts taking a good look at Harry who’s smirking smugly confident in his element.

Do they all think her boyfriend’s way too intimidating and out of reach for them? They should know he’s such a sweetie!

Y/N huffs. Folding her arms over chest when Harry paws at her hips and pulls her back against his chest resting his chin atop of her head with a shit eating grin.

In all seriousness. Showing them that’s she’s his's and belongs under his wings, which will keep her safe and protected till his death.

“How did you know my boss's office’s on tenth floor?” She squints up at him suspiciously.

“Hmm. Dunno, moppet. Magical powers or summat?” He teases her, putting a hand at the small of her back to nudge her forward making her blush pink and ducks down to whisper in her ear, “You got this toots.” Biting her earlobe playfully to stroke down her anxiety upon sensing her hesitancy to step in the hallway that has cubicles lined up.

He already got this. He ordered his assistant to get the resign letter ready and showing her who’s the boss here’s not much of hurdle for him.

It’s weird. Bloody weird. Y/N wants to turn back and run away because the moment they step inside the whole damn hallway falls eerily pin drop silent and everyone’s peeking up from the short walls of their cubicles and then diverting their eyes immediately in embarrassment and apology seeing Harry behind her.

The ones who’re standing bows their heads lightly in respect for him and scurrying away to give him a way and that’s insanely surprising and weird.

Harry on the other hand was no stranger to those bogey looks. Of curiosity, uneasiness and dread when he passes through the crowd of his employs. Y/N is.

Slowly perhaps. It starts to sink in— jumbled and disoriented when she looks back at Harry. He’s keeping his head held high and shoulders tilted back with poise and conceitedness, hands stuffed into the pockets of his pants and because though it makes him look like a proper snob— he is their boss and the owner of this company, he should act like one.

“Mr. Styles.” Y/N’s boss assistant Marina who’s usually very chirpy (and undeserving of all the yelling she gets from her boss) turns pale at Harry’s presence. She’s the only person Y/N's very keen of, now she’s fretting towards them with her head lowered and tries to stammer something but Harry’s walking past her with his lips pursued as he goes inside without knocking.

“Harry...” Y/N tattles behind him, lunging to clutch onto the hem of his suits coat, to scold him to stop babying her and let her handle it herself, too late since she’s already meeting with the sight of her overly stressed and upset boss.

Her knees almost gives in when Harry snaps his fingers for the employees that were inside to give them privacy and takes in the most relaxing breath of oxygen, feeling a gag of bitterness in his mouth from even looking at her.

Y/N gasped. Her boss (which she’s not sure is her boss anymore) gasped. The sweet assistant Marina gasped. When Harry told her in the most composing way– though his blood’s boiling absolutely sheathing through his veins.

“You’re fired.” His demeanour cold and voice monotone not giving a fuck how much she shakes and cries for his forgiveness.

“Mr. Styles. I..I can explain–-" She stammers rushing from the back of her desk and stops obediently when Harry gestures her to not to take another step forward.

“There’s no excuse for abuse. I don’t want your lame explanations, I can’t have an abusive asshole running my company for me ... we might be strict on our employees but we aren’t monsters.” He grits, his eyes flaring piercingly with rage and showing no empathy towards her as she pleads him to forgive her mistake– those bricks of money makes you work baby.

“You hurt someone so dearly to me ‘n think I’ll forgive ye'?” The assistance eye’s blows away at newfound information, Harry Styles love of life’s none other than Y/N. The girl she used to have smoked sandwiches and milkshakes with in their lunch breaks.

“I didn’t know ...” He chuckles ironically at her hypocrisy and that’s the last straw for him before he’s threatening her to call the security and she’s getting out of there cursing him under her breath but Harry grabs her from elbow roughly, conceding his brow at her dauntingly.

"Apologise to her right fuckin' now."

"Sorry, Mrs Styles. I'm very ashamed of what I did." She says nervously and Y/N nods not able to speak from the butterflies that are flapping around her stomach, which sure didn't go unnoticed at Harry's side and he smirks at Y/N.

When they’re left alone. Jovial cackles are bouncing against the walls and he’s pressing his hip to the desk, securing his hands around his triceps as he folds his arms infront of his chest entertaining himself to the cute and fuzzy reactions of his girl at what just happened.

“See. Told ya, nobody could defy my bossiness at work.” He grins at her, jerking his hand towards his chest to usher her closer to him and boops her nose smacking an obnoxiously loud kiss to her mouth when she toddles in his arms.

“The offers still there,” He looks down at her cheekily and she shakes her head, a small smile kicking up her lips at his determination and devotion.

“Couldn’t say no to you, could I? What will you be owning secretly next time?” She nips at him, planting her palms firmly against his midriff feeling the crispiness of his shirt underneath his jacket.

“A bakery shop ....?” He muses in the most pondering voice and she scoffs at him through pattering of giggles, “Suck it up Mr. Styles.”

“Hey! I know my prick’s huge but not tha’ much for me to suck it myself.”

Y/N chokes onto her own spit. Shaking her head at him.

“Your innocent employees knows how vulgar you’re?”

“Uhmm. Infact, She gets very hot hearin’ me like tha'.” He bobs his head grinning at her wickedly and she smacks his shoulder, “Harry!”

“Yeahhh! Tell everyone how good I make you feel babbbyy—....” Y/N clamps her hand around his mouth to muffle his lewd fake moaning.

“You’re so embarrassing.” She grumbles wiping his spit sticking to her palm down her skirt and spins around to head for the door expecting him to follow her.

“You don’t talk to boss like that!” He trails behind her, “Boss my ass!” She quips out a squeal looking around to make sure that nobody saw it when Harry slapped her bum.

“Boss someone’s ‘bout to get a pink ass.”

[goddessofroyalty]

Prompt: Viktor being moody late in his pregnancy because he’s on bedrest since his leg/body can’t carry the baby’s weight (maybe it takes more after Jayce). Jayce maybe finds it amusing or endearing or scary?

So I do feel like I leaned more into the first prompt than the second (I might do the second one separately so won’t delete). And honestly it ended with Jayce’s reaction being ‘apologetic’.

Tags: mpreg

“I’m sorry I know it’s later than I said I would be,” Jayce says as he enters their apartment, research papers and notebooks under one arm. “I kept running into people who wanted to talk.”

People who wanted to congratulate him both on their latest achievement with the Hexgates and their impending arrival. The conversation always then being led into what was next from their work. Jayce had tried to excuse himself as soon as it was polite but it felt like everyone suddenly decided to run into him today.

“Its fine,” Viktor says, propped up in their bed, his hand resting on his stomach full with the impending arrival. “It is not like I was going anywhere.”

Jayce winces at it. Viktor likely didn’t mean it as a dig but it didn’t change the fact he was effectively trapped in the bed while Jayce got to see the progress of their work. The weight of their child too much for Viktor’s knee to handle and the doctor’s worried about him causing further damage to his spine if he tried to push through despite it.

“I brought the notes you wanted,” Jayce says in apology, handing over the papers and notebooks.

“Thank you,” Viktor says, shuffling the papers already surrounding him to make room for the new ones. “I hope they were not too difficult for you to find.”

“They weren’t. Sky knew where they were.” It seemed on top of ensuring anything Viktor had in progress continued, his assistant had also been going through his notes to memorize where things were. “She asked how you were doing.”

“And did you tell her how even just going to the bathroom is now a humiliating and exhausting experience for me?” Viktor asks, flicking through the notes and adding new scribbles into the margins.

“No. I told her that you had been driven to such a state of boredom you started keeping a tally of how many airships with my face on them went past the window each day,” Jayce says, sitting on the edge of the bed. They had had it moved over to the window to ensure Viktor still saw real sunlight despite being bedbound for the remainder of the pregnancy.

“It was 26 today in case you were wondering,” Viktor says, flicking through a notepad to a fresh page.

“Right.” Jayce hadn’t been and was now starting to find how many places his face was plastered around the city concerning. He supposes it is a good thing that Viktor didn’t just stare at his notes all day though.

A silence settles over them and Jayce reaches out to rest his hand on Viktor’s stomach, enjoying being able to be with Viktor and their child again after a busy day. He gently rubs his thumb along it when he feels a flutter of movement inside.

It’s still amazing to think about—the fact they had created another life together. Despite everything they had built together this feels like a bigger accomplishment than it all.

Viktor’s hand comes to rest over Jayce’s and when Jayce glances up he meets Viktor’s eyes.

“They are getting stronger and more active,” Viktor says, rubbing against his stomach as if to try and calm the child within. “It is becoming hard to concentrate when they are awake.”

“Sorry for waking them then.”

Viktor huffs.

“They were awake as soon as you arrived—they seem to like your voice.”

“They can hear me?”

“You know that,” Viktor says with a dry look. Because they had both spent a week reading every paper they could find on pregnancy after it was discovered—an attempt for some knowledge going in despite the complete lack of any prior planning for it.

“Yeah, but, they recognise my voice,” Jayce clarifies. It amazing to think their child already knows him and feels positively about him.

“You are their father of course they do.”

“What about your voice—do they respond to it as well?” Jayce asks.

“They do. It makes thinking out loud troublesome.”

“Maybe they just want to give their input.” Surely their child will be a problem solver like them. Jayce hopes they don’t have to also fight for their work to be acknowledged as well.

Viktor reaches for his notes again, apparently happy to let Jayce rub along his stomach while he works. He smiles as he feels a more definitive kick against his hand.

“They are getting so big.”

“I am aware,” Viktor says, his body the one that is paying the price for their child’s growth, even if only a temporary one. “And they will continue to get bigger for another month. Meanwhile my work gets to remain merely theoretical until I can return to my lab.”

“I’m sure you will catch up once they are born.” Viktor is amazing at what he does after all.

It won’t be long now either. The time until they are parents now only measured in weeks. Jayce will admit he feels equal parts terror and excitement at it.

“Of course, because it is well known that mothers of newborns have ample time for their own endeavors,” Viktor says, his tone frustrated and he scribbles out a line of equation.

“I’ll help.” It is more than fair considering what Viktor is already going through for their child compared to Jayce. Anyway, it wasn’t like Jayce was a stranger to sleepless nights as is.

“You had better,” Viktor says with a tone in his voice that seems to threaten that if Jayce doesn’t there will be retribution. Which, again, shouldn’t be a problem, Jayce already was well on board with the plan. And not just because he’s aware keeping Viktor from his work will quickly cause Jayce’s own to stall.

As stressful as the sudden reshuffle of their life and priorities had been Jayce knows it will all be worthwhile for their child.

[mypoisonedvine]

Consolation || Bucky Barnes x reader

summary: you know it’s probably not great that you always turn to your best friend Bucky whenever you’re especially hurt by your husband.  you know your husband should probably care that you spend so much time with him, but he doesn’t.  which is good, in the end, because you two really are just friends… until you’re not.

word count: 4k

warnings: smut!, infidelity (see summary, reader is married), descriptions of failing/sexless marriage, angst, fluff, ~feelings~

You were good at hiding it— the real reason why you showed up at Bucky's apartment unexpectedly, that is.  

It wasn’t entirely unexpected: you sent a text first, asking if he was down for a movie night, telling him you missed when you used to hang out more.  He did, too, but he had always been afraid your husband would be an issue.  Nice enough guy, but he didn’t seem to trust Bucky entirely… certainly didn’t seem to love that you two were so close.

And who could blame him?  A beautiful, sweet, smart girl like you… he understood why your husband didn’t want you hanging out with other guys when avoidable.  I’ve told him a thousand times, you’re just a friend— you’re just Bucky, you would tell him when you were recounting arguments, explaining why it had been a while since you two had had a chance to catch up.  But Bucky never told you that your husband was right to worry, that he had dreamed since he met you of being more than ‘just a friend,’ that he himself was the reason you two didn’t spend more time together: because he was afraid he wouldn’t be able to stop himself from confessing his feelings.

Because of course he would never make a move on his best friend— on a married woman.  It would be so overwhelmingly inappropriate, such a colossal waste of time; and it wasn’t like he couldn’t handle just being your friend.  Sure, it killed him a little bit sometimes, but it was worth it a million times over to be near you at all.  He would take what he could get… and if that meant platonic movie night because you’d had another argument with your husband, then so be it.

“I stopped by the store on my way; heard your ice cream reserve was depleted,” you explained as you brandished the Ben & Jerry’s before slipping past him to put them in his freezer.  

He watched you walk there, silently hating how comfortable you were in his apartment.  He loved it, but he hated it, too.  

“What are we watching?” you asked, snapping him back to reality.

“Uh, I dunno…”

“You were supposed to pick while I was driving over, genius,” you grumbled sarcastically.

“I narrowed it down to The Ring or You’ve Got Mail,” he decided suddenly.

You chuckled lightly and the sound lifted his spirits. “Okay, so, two drastically different evenings."

“I mean, if you think about it, they’re both about meeting new people through technology,” he corrected.

“Do VHS tapes count as technology?” you raised an eyebrow incredulously.

“They do to me,” he shrugged.

//

With the ice cream supply exhausted and Bucky’s largest plastic bowl now containing only the unpopped kernels and little broken pieces of popcorn that didn’t make the cut, the third act of The Ring was beginning and you were spending more time covering your eyes than not.

“Let me know when the scary part is over,” you requested weakly from between the hands on your face.

“It’s a horror movie; the whole thing is one long scary part!” he laughed.

You peeked out through your fingers only to see another terrifying moment, yelping and hiding yourself in his chest.

He froze, not sure at all what to do with your face pressed against him; he held his breath in case the inflation of his chest would disturb you.  

“I can’t look!” you whimpered, voice muffled by his shirt.

He lifted his hand in consideration of stroking your hair comfortingly, but ultimately decided against it and set it back down.

Thankfully, the movie was almost over and you wouldn’t stay cuddled up to him after it ended— meaning he’d finally be free from the glorious torture of your nearness.

But then the credits were rolling and you still didn’t budge, holding him tight.  At first he thought you were just still scared, but then you took a slow, shaky breath… and he realized something was wrong with you, way beyond just a spooky movie.

“Are you okay?” he asked quietly, preparing to hear you explain what really happened with you and your husband that made you come here.

You just shook your head a little against his chest, making him sigh.

“Do you wanna talk about it?” he continued, and you hesitated before pulling back and sitting up straight again.  As painful as it had been, he missed your touch already.

“Yes,” you answered, “but I shouldn’t.”

“Okay,” he nodded.

“But I need to.”

“Okay.”

“But I can’t.”

“...okay…”

You groaned and hid your face in your hands— not from fear this time, but exasperation.  “I told myself that if it ever got to this point, I’d tell someone.  But now I… I don’t know.”

“It’s okay,” he soothed.

"He doesn't… we don't…” you started and stopped a few times.  “God, Buck, I can't even say it…"

"You don't have to—" he began to tell you, but you said it anyway, tearing your hands away from your face and looking back at him sternly.

"He hasn't touched me in months.  And today marks an entire year since the last time I had sex."

He tried not to choke when he heard that.  He figured you were just going to say that he was texting a female coworker too much or flip-flopping about if he wanted kids or not.  This was something else entirely.  "Oh… um, wow."

“Yeah.”

He wasn’t sure where to start.  In spite of all his obliviousness, he was pretty sure he should say something, he just didn’t know what.  “And he… he knows that you… want that?  I mean, you’ve like… tried to, you know… initiate things, right?”  He cringed at his own voice, and stupid question.

You laughed a little, in a sad way.  "I've begged him for it, fuck, it's so humiliating.  It doesn't even work.  He's always too tired, not in the mood, busy with something.  And of course I want to respect him and not pressure him into anything but at the same time, I feel so fucking unlovable— so hideous."

"You're not hideous,” he said firmly, more sure of that than anything else he’d said so far.

“I try to believe that, really,” you mitigated, “I try not to take it personally— but fuck, it feels personal.  Do you know how often people talk about sex?  It’s like society has this idea that men just wanna bang twenty-four hours a day and the only thing stopping them is women being prudes.  Do you know what it’s like to hear people talk like that when your husband rejects you every night?  Do you know how it feels to hear your girlfriends complaining about how their boyfriends are pestering them for sex too often, and you’re just sitting there screaming inside your head ‘at least he wants you’?  Bucky, you can’t even imagine…”

“I can’t,” he agreed.  

"It's been so long…” you sighed shakily, collecting yourself before you started again.  “It's been so long since somebody touched me.  I wondered if I would forget what it felt like."

His hand shook a little as he reached out with his flesh hand and brushed it against your arm, staring into your watery eyes and finding less fear there than he expected, thankfully.

"Did you forget?" he asked softly.

"I must have," you mumbled, "it feels better than I remembered."

The heartbreak in your voice made anger bubble up in his chest, amazed at how your husband ever allowed this to happen; ever allowed you to become so touch-starved that even just a brush on your arm made you emotional.  "I can't imagine being with you every day and not wanting to touch you whenever I could get the chance,” he admitted.  “I can't imagine being your husband and not making love to you every day, every hour, whenever you wanted; whenever you'd let me.  I can't imagine having you beg me for something and not giving it to you— I'd give you everything."

He had to fight a gasp as you suddenly grabbed him and pulled him into a kiss, a bit sudden at first but melting into something gentle and patient and soft.  

“Then do it,” you whispered as you finally pulled back; he could barely think straight to even process what you were saying.  “Give me everything.”

He nodded a little before he kissed you again, rough but deep and slow.  His hands roamed your body like he'd wished to for so long; his tongue slid against yours and the taste of you drove him wild.

As hard as it was to break from your lips, he moved his kisses down your jaw to your neck, sucking at your pulse as you groaned and clutched at his shoulders through his shirt.

"Fuck," you whispered under your breath, and he must've heard you swear a million times but this time it sounded so different.  

His cock was straining against his jeans already, just from this— it was like he was a fucking teenager again, but to be fair, you'd always had that effect on him: sweaty palms, stammering, sudden boners.  It was like lifelong puberty with you around.

When his fingers toyed with the hem of your shirt, just barely brushing over the skin right above your sweats, you pulled back briefly to pull your shirt off over your head.  He thought it might be awkward if he just stood there gawking at your chest, so he only allowed himself a moment of it before he got back to work holding you tight and kissing your collarbones.

He pulled you closer and you must've felt his cock pressed against you because you gasped a little.  And you must've liked it, because your hand slipped down and rubbed him through the front of his jeans, making him choke on nothing.

“S’big,” you mumbled, and he grinned a little.  

“Feel what you do to me?” he asked softly, and you nodded a little before grabbing his wrist and pulling his hand down your body and into the waistband of your pants.  He shuddered when he felt how warm your skin was, the lacy fabric of your panties, the slick folds you guided his fingers through.

“Feel what you do to me?” you shot back, but your cockiness faded when he circled his middle finger over your swollen bud.  He loved the way your body reacted so easily, subtle little gasps and shivers, your hips jolting forward for more stimulation.  You both moaned when he pushed a finger into your channel, your walls already pulsing around him.

“Is this okay?” he asked.

You whispered your approval and he twisted the finger inside you.  Even just that made you let out a heavy breath, your hands reaching down to grip his wrist— they didn’t push him away, thankfully, just reminded him to be gentle with you as he added the second finger, pushing a bit deeper than before.

“More,” you whimpered your plea, “I want more.”

For a second he thought you meant more fingers, but then you opened your eyes and gave him a look… that look.  

It made it abundantly clear that fingers weren’t going to be enough.  After all, you had asked him to give you everything.  So he gladly obliged when you started to tug at his shirt, pulling it over his head and tossing it aside.  You lifted your hips to let him pull down your sweats, not giving him much time to drink in the sight of you before you started opening his fly for him.

Being undressed by you made his heart race; the way you rushed, like you couldn’t wait a moment longer to have him, was flattering yet relatable.

You sighed when you got his cock out, instantly wrapping your hand around his shaft and stroking.  He shuddered at the softness of your hands, at your gentle but persistent exploration.  Clearly it had been a while since you’d gotten the chance to interact with a dick, but it didn’t show in any lack of skill— if anything it just made you more eager, your grip firm but your touches gentle.  He kissed you again, holding your face in one hand and leaning you back with the other until you were laid on the couch and he was hovering over you.

He guided your hand away from his cock, replacing it with his own as he guided the weeping head over your slick folds, smiling at your gasp when he bumped against your clit.

“Do you want this?” he asked, fully prepared for you to back out now before you did something you really couldn’t take back.

“Yes.”  Your answer was more confident than he was expecting, but he still couldn’t really believe it.  It was just too good to be true.  So he had to check again.

“...are you sure?”

"Don't make me beg, Bucky," you whimpered, "I've done it enough, I can't do it again.  Just make love to me— I need you inside me, please…"

Your head fell back as he pushed into you, your nails digging into his shoulders until he stopped from fear of hurting you (even though it took more willpower than he knew he had).

"Don't stop," you whined, "need to feel all of you, Bucky, please please don't stop—"

He definitely didn't have enough willpower to resist that.  Slamming into you all at once, he hissed as you cried out, baring his teeth at the sight of you quivering and moaning beneath him.

"I— I need a second," you explained, voice tight with ill-concealed pain, "it's been a while.”

"I can wait," he nodded, "I won't move until you're ready."

He could tell you were struggling, because how could you not be when you felt so fucking tight around him?  He guided you to breathe slowly with him, feeling your body relax slightly and noticing the way your face untwisted as you became more comfortable.

You nodded a little, but he needed to hear you say it.  "Fuck me," you whispered.

And he did.  

He still kept his pace measured and relaxed, savoring every inch of you— savoring your reactions to every inch of him.

But watching your face was going to push him towards the edge too fast, and he wanted to make this last if possible, so he leaned down to suck on your neck, thoroughly tasting your skin as you moaned and writhed beneath him.  It felt incredible to surround your body with his, to cage you in and pin you down with his weight— it made him feel like he could protect you, keep you safe, even though he knew he couldn’t save you from heartache as much as he wanted to.

If you wanted someone to touch you, to give you affection, to make love to you and make you feel loved, then you’d come to the right place.  That came to him naturally; the hard part was going to be letting you go, letting this be the one-time favor for a friend that he already knew it was.

“You feel so good,” he found himself whispering against your skin, just beside your ear, “so good for me.”

The praise must have had a strong effect on you, because your walls tightened around him suddenly.

“So perfect,” he continued, wanting to feel it again, “my perfect girl.”  And you weren’t his girl, but maybe he could pretend you were; you certainly seemed to enjoy pretending, with the way your moans egged him on.  “God, baby, your pussy feels so fucking good around my cock.”

“Bucky,” you whined, arching your back, and he grinned because it was obvious that you responded even better to dirty talk than praise.

“You like that, huh?  You like makin’ me feel good?” he pressed, laughing a little when you nodded feverishly.  “Fuck, such a good girl… takin’ me so good, so fuckin’ deep…”

You grabbed him by his hair to make him kiss you again, hungry lips smashing against his.

Inspired by your passion but afraid of what he’d do with all of this control, he wrapped his arms around you and hoisted you up until he was sitting while you straddled him, looking up at you with a grin.  "Ride me, pretty girl, show me how bad you want it," he instructed lowly.  The way you rocked your hips and threw your head back was everything he'd dreamed it would be, increased exponentially.  Of course, he'd never told anyone that he dreamed about that, but he'd also never thought it could ever come true.  He ran his hands over every part of you he could reach, just to make sure it was real; just to make sure he memorized the feel of you while he could.

He leaned forward and wrapped his lips around a hardened nipple, sucking gently and smirking a little when you moaned loudly.  “You’re sensitive here,” he noted aloud, kissing his way to the other nipple but still teasing the first with his metal fingers.

Your moans came faster and louder, your fingers combing through his hair and pulling seemingly unintentionally.  He noticed that you let your eyes fall shut, your head crane back, and although he was glad that it was a sign of pleasure, he wanted to see you; he wanted you to see him, know that it was him making you feel this way.  so, he reached up and cupped your face in his hand, cradling your cheek, pulling you closer to look at him, staring into your eyes— and he knew it wasn't a subtle move, wasn't believable as a guy just helping out a friend, but he didn't care anymore.  When he kissed you again, it almost felt like you meant it, too; like you wanted him first, and not just as a consolation prize.

But you pulled back a little too soon, a reminder to both of you that this couldn’t be anything more than what it was.

Your hips gyrated faster and more vigorously, his hands gripping you tight and guiding your movements while you sighed and bit your lip.  You looked so indescribably good when you were immersed in pleasure like this, your hands gripping his shoulders tightly for balance, your chest swelling and deflating with quick breaths.

“So fucking beautiful,” he whispered below his breath as his hand softly trailed from your collarbone down to your thigh.  The sounds you made were constantly changing, a little more high-pitched and needy now as you rode him faster.  He was already picking up on the little signs that you were getting closer: your thighs flexing where they were straddled beside his own, how your body jolted and shivered in his grasp, your eyes wrenched shut and your skin breaking out into goosebumps.

Already he knew your body so well, but he knew there was so much more he would never get the chance to discover.  For now, he’d just have to settle for a preview of all the perfect little ways you fell apart.

And, in the interest of speeding that process up a bit, he reached down to where your bodies were joined and circled a thumb over your clit.

“Fuck!” you yelped, your inner muscles bearing down on him out of nowhere until he was forced to groan from your tightness.

“You close?” he stammered out, way less confident than he meant it to be.  He should’ve said something cool like ‘I know you’re close’ or ‘aw, baby, does that feel good?’ but no, he was too far gone and gave his own desperation away.

"Yes, baby, I'm so close," you sighed, "I'm gonna come— you're gonna make me come."

You said it with a hint of shock in your voice, like you could barely believe it.  He couldn't believe it, either, because it was surely too good to be true.

"Come for me," he instructed firmly, pulling you closer until his nose brushed against yours, "say my name when I make you come."

It was unfair, but he needed to pretend you were his for just a moment.  Only his.

"Bucky," you whimpered shakily.  Your walls tightened around him so perfectly, over and over, until it took everything in him not to bust right then.  "Bucky, I'm coming, fuck, I'm coming—"

"I know," he whispered, "I know, pretty girl, keep going."

Your nails dug into his skin, but he couldn’t even notice the pain when he was watching your face as you came— it was tight and twisted at first, before falling into a gasp and a moan that made his heart swell along with his cock that painted your walls the absolute second he knew you’d come.  It was intense, not just from holding back for so long, but from knowing he was coming inside you.

He sighed and started to catch his breath as you slumped forward and buried your face in the crook of his neck.  His arms wrapped around you and pulled you closer, the warmth of your body nearly overwhelming now as he felt little aftershocks ripple through your channel around where he was still within you.

"Thank you," you whispered, so quiet he could barely hear it.  But he did, and he nodded a little as he rested his face against yours, stroking your hair gently.  You held each other in silence for a long time, so long that when your breathing slowed down significantly and he could feel your body relax entirely, he realized you had fallen asleep.  

Carefully, he held you tighter so he could stand up and carry you to his bedroom, your body instinctively wrapping around him like a koala… like even in your sleep, you could act all adorable and break his heart just that much more.  

He did his best to tread quietly and gently, laying you down onto the bed and only then pulling his softened cock out of you, finding his discarded boxers to put back on before joining you between the sheets.  

He knew you would be gone in the morning but he indulged himself in holding you tonight, breathing your scent and pressing your back against his chest.  He didn't want to fall asleep because he didn't want to miss a second of your body wrapped in his, but it was impossible not to with the soft pace of your breathing almost rocking him to sleep like a beautiful lullaby.

Where there was warmth and peace before, he awoke to cold and emptiness— both between his sheets and in himself.

It’s not like he really expected you to stay, and even if you had it wouldn’t mean that you would leave your husband for your best friend, that this would have ever been anything more than a glimpse of what could’ve been in another life or another universe.

He could still smell you, barely, and he buried his face in the sheets to take it all in before it faded away.  When it was gone, he pulled back only to find a wet patch of his tears there instead.

[midgardianweasley]

Movie Night

Movie night

Natasha Romanoff x fem!reader

Summary: It’s friday night, or more commonly known as movie night for the Avengers. A horror movie was put on and Y/N isn’t feeling so brave, luckily she’s got a Romanoff nearby.

Warnings: coulrophobia (fear of clowns), mentions of the IT movie and pennywise.

Word Count: 2.5k

Идиоты. - ‘Idiots.’

Requests are open!

“I vote action movie”

“We watched an Action movie last week, Sam.” Steve pinched the bridge of his nose, briefly looking up and meeting my eyes, earning a small smile in return, attempting to provide some sanity for the man.

“Plus, do you not think we’ve had enough action for one week?” Bucky grumbled, this week having taken a toll on everyone. We were all exhausted from our missions, some more than others, the soldier being one of them.

“Okay okay, no action, damn” Sam put his hands up in defeat, accepting that he wasn’t going to win this one. A few more options had been suggested, Bruce suggested rom-com, Thor suggested comedy, Vision proposed a documentary, all of which were shut down with groans and sounds of protest.

I turned to my assassin girlfriend who had been sitting beside me watching the scene unfold with an amused smirk on her face, her green eyes darting around the room whenever someone else spoke and taking sips of the drink she had in her hand. I nudged her slightly to get her attention

“Hey.”

“Hi”

“If it was up to you, what would you choose for movie night?” I asked. She morphed her face into a thoughtful one, still with a slight smile on her face, taking time to make her decision.

“If it was completely up to me? I would-”

“Aha!” Tony interrupted with a loud snap of his fingers. “I know, we haven’t watched a horror movie in a while, and the new IT movie just came out, we can watch that” He smirked, proud of his contribution to the discussion at hand. I looked around the room, praying that they would pick anything else, literally anything, even Vision’s documentary.

Unfortunately, everyone seemed to be really into it as they all shared nod’s and “yeah” “sounds good” before splitting up to go and get their snacks and blankets to bring back to the large sofa.

Although I wouldn't admit it to the rest of the group, I was absolutely terrified of clowns and have been since I was a child. If there was a clown at a birthday party or an event, I’d pretend I was sick so that my mum wouldn’t make me go. She soon noticed a pattern in my behaviour, putting the pieces together and realising that I hadn't come down with the flu three times that month, I was avoiding the ‘entertainment’ of the parties.

She tried explaining that it was just a guy in makeup and a funny suit, showing off fun tricks and jokes. However, 9 year old me still refused to attend, faking a sneeze and hiding under the blanket.

“Woah, Y/L/N, you good over there?” Tony furrowed his brows, concern written all over his face. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

I wish it was a ghost.

I regained my composure, nodding and sending a firm smile his way, hoping that would be enough to prevent any further questioning. With a shrug, he made his way out of the room and caught up with Thor to explain what ‘IT’ was.

“You don’t look so good, sure you’re okay?” Nat placed her hand on my back, rubbing small, reassuring circles with her palm. I wanted to put on a brave face and tell her I was fine, that there wasn’t a problem and my heart wasn’t racing with fear, but the look on her face, while caring and concerned, was also warning me not to lie to her. Not that i’d manage anyway, she always had ways of finding out the truth eventually.

I shook my head, letting out a small sigh and turning in my seat to address her. My eyes met hers and I felt my heart settle slightly just by looking at her, she always made me feel safe.

“What’s wrong sweetheart?” She whispered, her hand coming up to rest on my cheek, her thumb stroking my cheekbone in small movements.

“It’s so silly, really.”

“Nothing is silly if it’s upsetting you Detka. Tell me.”

“It’s this movie.”

The confusion was obvious on her face, yet she stayed quiet, allowing me to elaborate.

“I just, I’ve never been the best with clowns. Ever since I was a child, I’ve had this fear of them. If I saw one, I’d run in the opposite direction, which was more often than one would think. I mean, seriously, who wants one of those things at a party? What happened to princess parties? Or tea parties!” I exclaimed, my tone becoming more intense as I spoke.

Natasha nodded, I could almost see the cogs turning in her head, figuring out how to approach the situation. After a minute or two, she focused her eyes back on me and her hands had trailed down to meet with mine, interlocking them in the process.

“Do you want to skip it tonight?” She suggested.

“No, no, I don’t want to cause a fuss. Plus, I kinda don’t want the others knowing.”

“Are you absolutely sure? I’m sure we can pull a sickie for one night.”

“I’m sure. Just, can you stay next to me? And let me hide if it gets really bad?”

“Of course you can. I’ll be next to you the whole time.”

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

___________________

We were at the haunted house scene in the movie. There had already been jumpscares that I'd managed to avoid for the most part, but I don’t think I've moved past Georgie’s death yet, let alone have time to process the psycho killer clown on the screen.

Eddie was in a room alone, he was staring at this dirty, old fridge and a white hand had appeared, curling itself around and tapping on the side so you could only see it’s fingers. I tugged the blanket that was laid across Natasha and i’s laps and pulled it up to my nose, eyes still on the screen, but prepared to take cover. It appears as though nothing has changed from all those years ago.

As the fridge door creaked open, my blanket had raised higher and higher, my grip tightening by the second while the hand reappeared, this time, you could see it’s entire body contorted into this small space.

“Nope. No, absolutely fucking not. No.” I mumbled, covering my eyes with my fluffy shield. Luckily, Nat had stolen the sofa at the back, meaning I could skip the scary parts without anyone taking much notice, them being too entranced by the movie. Weirdo’s.

In my safety bubble I'd created, I felt my girlfriend’s hand on my thigh, rubbing small circles to reassure me that I was okay, and that she was here. I shuffled a little so I was closer to her, if that was even possible, her then adjusting so that her hand was still on my thigh, but another arm was wrapped securely around me, pulling me into her side a little more.

I assumed we would stay like that for a bit, until she started to shift more noticeably and lifted the part of the blanket closest to her, and put it over her own head, taking me by surprise, a faint gasp leaving my lips when seeing that she’d joined me.

“You doing okay under here?” She spoke softly, a hint of amusement playing on her face as she looked at me folded up into a ball.

“I am. This blanket protects me from all.”

“Of course it does, the fluffier it is, the more protection, right?” She quoted words i’d spoken earlier on when bringing in the blanket for us.

“Are you sure you’re not going to boil under there?”

“Nope. And even if I do, the fluffier the blanket, the more protection from cannibal clowns.” I’d explained proudly. Yes, I'm an Avenger that fights extraterrestrials and demigods and still runs to a blanket for safety, leave me alone.

We stayed under there for a minute or two, holding hands and sharing small kisses while the movie continued and we hid in our little bubble.

“C’mon lovebirds, the movie isn’t over yet, you can continue that when we’ve gone to bed if you must.” Stark called out, causing Natasha to roll her eyes and retreat back to her previous position.

I don’t know what ran through my mind, I clearly didn’t think twice about the situation I was in, my default being to follow Natasha and pull the blanket down and off my head. Upon resurfacing from my cocoon, I looked towards the Television. Bad idea. With a shriek that I'm almost certain could be heard from Asgard, I flew under the blanket again after seeing Pennywise with all of his teeth on show, edging towards Eddie to eat him.

Natasha’s arms wound their way around me again, slightly shaking now from the fright. Even though the blanket tended to muffle sounds, I could hear the room fill with laughter and comments from the Avengers.

“I didn’t know your voice could go that high Y/L/N”

“Pennywise! You scared Y/N!”

“Y/N, it’s literally-”

“How about you guys shut up and watch the movie? Otherwise I swear to god Thor, I’ll bring snakes in here and Sam, I’ll cut the wings off of your suit.” I heard the redhead next to me threaten, alongside some more punishments to the others who laughed, immediately silencing them, all of them knowing that she wasn’t one for an empty threat.

Even though the laughter died down and no more words were spoken, tears still built up in my eyes and were daring to fall down my cheeks. I feel so embarrassed. A room full of superheroes and I was scared to death over a fictional clown in front of all of them.

I tried to keep my sniffles to a minimum and at a level where no one could hear me, however, they seemed to have caught Nat’s attention as she whispered to me, loud enough for me to hear, but quietly so that it was only me that could hear.

“Mind if I come in?”

I chose not to verbally respond, instead, I pulled the edge of the blanket up, allowing her to bend down and make her way underneath. After making herself comfortable, she turned to me and did, what felt like study, my face before tutting under her breath.

“Идиоты. Are you okay?” I smiled at her speaking Russian. She often switched between the two, interchanging within sentences. I’d been around her enough to pick up on some of the terms, funnily enough she’d said that word so often, my understanding was immediate.

“Feeling a bit humiliated” My voice came out weak and slightly gravelly from the crying, her thumb immediately wiped the tears off of my cheeks, lingering afterwards.

“Don’t be. Everyone has their fears, you shouldn’t be embarrassed by having them. Okay? It just means you're human.” She patiently explained, sparking a question to leave my lips before realising.

“Do you have a fear?”

She smiled “mhm”

“Can I know what it is?”

She leaned in closer to me, lips hovering beside my ear so I could feel and hear her breathing quietly.

“Идиоты” She whispered, resulting in me clamping my hand over my mouth to limit the noise my laughter was making.

“There’s that smile I love.” She took my chin in her index finger and her thumb, her face once again, coming closer towards mine before our lips met in the middle, sharing a soft, quick kiss, distracting me from any embarrassment i’d previously felt.

________________

The movie had just finished, everyone was getting up and starting to clear up any mess they’d made, mainly popcorn that had fallen everywhere, Wanda and Vision being the main culprit, jumping at the scary parts had caused a popcorn avalanche near their seats.

Nat and I gathered our blankets and snacks we’d brought in, trying to ignore the slight tension hanging in the air, and just as we were about to walk to our bedroom, I felt a tap on my shoulder. It was Peter.

Rocking back and forth on his heels and fidgeting with his hands, he smiled.

“Hey, uh- miss Y/L/N. Miss Romanoff, sorry, I just wanted to come and make sure you were okay.” He rushed, clearly anxious to approach us considering the telling off Natasha gave everyone earlier.

“I’m okay, thank you Peter. You can call me Y/N by the way, ‘miss’ makes me feel old.” I chuckled, visibly seeing his shoulders relax at my response, he was really sweet, never wanting to get on anyone’s bad side. He’s a good kid.

“Sorry mi-,Y/N, sorry, I’ll remember for next time. That movie was pretty freaky, if there’s anything I can do to help, let me know.”

“I will, thank you.”

Feeling more relaxed, I made a slow but steady beeline for the bedroom, wanting to have cuddles with Nat and go to sleep, hopefully forget the movie ever happened. Soon enough, we were both changed into a vest top, I wore a pair of shorts and Nat wore a pair of sweats and we were in bed, facing each other with our legs tangled together, our noses bumping every so often.

“I love you” I mumbled in between kisses, eyes opening briefly to be met by her green orbs looking back at me.

“I love you more, Detka.”

A silence then overtook the room, only being able to hear the breeze outside and a slight whistle from where it was flying through the trees. I’d usually adore this, finding peace in the wind and the darkness, tonight however, it felt unsettling. All I could hear in my head was the soundtrack to the movie, picturing the bloody teeth and that creepy smile from earlier in my head.

“Love?” I nudged my girlfriend’s nose gently, hoping she was still somewhat awake.

“Mhmm?”

“Can you, can you possibly sing to me?” Her eyes fluttered open, a sleepy smile on her face, wrapping her arms tightly around me before humming a quiet melody, sending me into a blissful sleep.

By noon the next day, I had received apologies from everyone in the compound, a couple of bone crushing hugs from Thor and some complementary pancakes that Wanda had made with some help from Bruce, aprons on and covered in flour. Everyone tucked into their individual stacks, enjoying some lighthearted conversation, Nat taking the opportunity to press a small kiss to the back of my hand, I quickly returned the gesture. It was lovely.

Movie night was a rollercoaster, but at the end of the day, I was surrounded by the best people, and nothing would change that, not even the fear of clowns.

Though they’re still really fucking scary.

taglist: @the-dumbass-that-throws-knives

[mssjynx]

Mic: ON

dreamnap oneshot 3687 words warnings: steamy!!  ao3 link

-

“Sapnap. Don’t send it.”

Dream’s warning voice held a lot more threat than usual coming through Nick’s headset, and he suspected it was because the two now shared a house. He was all too aware of his friend’s presence only two doors down, and had it just been the two of them, Nick probably would have already given in and saved himself an ass kicking. Dream was a noticeable few inches taller than him, and definitely stronger though Nick would never admit it outloud. 

Nick was good at picking his fights.

Or he was, usually. 

But with Dream in one ear, and Quackity, George and Karl in the other, he was tiptoeing the line of a very pissed off Dream. The three idiots had been egging him on for the past half hour, begging him to send the video since the moment he’d mentioned having it. And he wasn’t actually going to send it, he just really enjoyed stirring Dream up and he knew the other three found it just as funny. 

“Sapnap! Sapnap! Sapnap!” Karl’s chanting overlapped the other two voices, Alex making odd monkey sounds as George laughed himself into hysterics. 

“Send it, Sap! You have to show us, you have to.” George’s words were gasped out between wheezes in his comically high-pitched voice that appeared whenever he was losing his mind laughing at something. 

Nick knew that if any of them laid their eyes on the video, they would never ever get over it. 

He’d captured the valuable video the night prior when Dream had overslept an alarm that he’d set for a recording session with the Among Us crowd. When Nick had crept in there to wake him up, a task he dreaded after the first time he’d done it and successfully pissed Dream off for two full days, he had been met with a sight he never thought he’d see. It was too good to resist flicking out his phone and capturing the moment. 

Dream had been splayed out across the bed, three pillows tucked under his back and his head tipped back off the mattress entirely. A trail of dried drool stained his cheek and his slack mouth was releasing a mix of whistling snores and little snuffling sounds as he slept. His fourth pillow was clutched to his chest in a grip that made Nick feel bad for it, white knuckles making Nick gulp as he crept back out of the room and returned to his Discord call to pass on the disappointing news. 

He had intended to keep the video to himself, locked away in his phone for a later day of humiliation. He hadn’t intended that later day to be the day following but he made the mistake of mentioning the beautiful video and it had all gone downhill from there. 

Karl, George and Alex were relentless when they wanted something, and to say they wanted to see this video was a huge understatement. 

“We need to see it, Sapnap, it’s worth the risk! It’s worth it!” Alex pleaded. 

“The risk!?” Nick snorted, offended by the lack of care. “I’m gonna get my teeth kicked in, Quackity! The risk is my impending death.” 

“It’s worth it, it’s worth it!” 

“Vouch!” 

Karl and Alex were a terrible influence on each other. 

“Guys, Dream’s scawy,” Sapnap said, hoping his baby “uwu” voice would soften Dream’s heart. He knew that whether he sent it or not, Dream was going to kill him for taking it in the first place. 

“You haven’t seen ‘scary’,” Dream muttered and Nick shot a weary glance to the door of his office. There wasn’t even a lock. 

George whined, adding his own baby voice to the mix, and Sapnap could practically see the stupid pout he was wearing when he begged, “Please, Sap. He won’t actually kill you!” 

Dream’s scoff was dry and humourless, “Oh, I will,” and Nick could hear the exhaustion that layered his irritation. He’d been up for over twenty hours editing his upcoming video and keeping the guys company in their streams. He knew that Dream was ready to collapse into bed the second he could, but the risk of his pride held enough weight to keep him upright for the time being. 

Nick almost felt bad for him, except he remembered the horrific photo that Dream had shared with their chat less than a month earlier. 

This was only payback; well, it would be if Nick was actually going to send it. But he was better than that, he was the bigger man and he also valued having all of his teeth and an unbroken nose. 

With a sigh, he reached to click delete on the keyboard to remove the video from the textbox. The ominous ‘Sapnap is typing…’ that sat at the bottom of all of their screens had only added to the excitement (and anger), but he knew that they’d had their fun and it was over. When he tried to snatch up his water bottle at the same time, his device unbalanced in his fingers and the thunk of it hitting the carpet was accompanied by the little “shwoop” sound of a message sending. 

Every voice except Dream’s exploded in the call and Nick froze in his chair.

“Oh god,” he whispered, dropping his bottle and scrambling for his phone. “Oh, no, no, no- I didn’t- It was an accident, I dropped my-” His voice was drowned out by Karl and Alex’s cheering, hysterical laughter pouring from George’s end. Dream’s icon vanished from the call and the slam of a door opening reached Nick’s ears.

Dream’s footsteps were loud and angry.  

“Guys, guys, GUYS!” His bedroom door burst open and Nick threw off his headphones, ripping the cord from his PC as he stumbled out of his chair. The look on Dream’s face made Nick genuinely fear for his life as he backed up away from Dream. 

“Oh my God, he’s so cuuuute!” Karl cooed. George howled with laughter. 

Nick had messed up. He had royally screwed himself, and today was the day he was going to die. “Dream, Clay. It was an accident, I was going to delete it and I dropped my phone and- I wasn’t actually going to send it, I swear. I promise. Pinky promise? What if we hug and make up?” Words tumbled off his tongue with panicked desperation but Nick knew a losing fight when he saw it. “Dream?” he tried weakly when Dream stepped forward, but the stoic glare didn’t shift. 

He could hear Alex calling Dream’s name, futile attempts at rescuing Nick from certain death. But the laughter that drowned him out only sealed his fate.

He was completely and totally done. 

Dream lunged for him and an embarrassingly high-pitched scream ripped from Nick’s throat. He bolted to the bed, clambering over the mattress with his eyes on the open door. But his chances were shot when a rough hand grabbed his ankle, yanking him backwards and off balance. His face slammed into the mattress, cutting off his yelp, and he barely managed to squirm over onto his back before Dream pounced. 

“You’re done, Nick,” Dream snarled, and Nick knew that it was his turn to be mortified. He caught Dream by the upper arms, straining as he kept Dream’s hands just inches away from his own shoulders and face. “You’re such an asshole, I told you not to send it!” 

“I told you,” Nick gasped, his arms aching as he turned his face away from Dream’s clawing fingers, “I didn’t mean to!” 

Dream growled, glaring down at Nick for a second before spitting: “Liar.” and throwing his weight to the side. Nick lost his grip and within seconds Dream had hooked an arm around his back, pinning Nick’s head between his arm and his ribs. The wrestling training Sapnap did back in middle school leapt to the front of his mind as he got his arms around Dream’s middle and tried to push him back. They both grunted and yelped, jabbing fingers into sensitive spots and cursing as they wrestled and fought. 

From the computer, the other three were cheering them on, placing bets back and forth. Except they were all betting on Dream and Nick couldn’t even blame them as he scrambled on top of Dream’s back for half a second before he was thrown off.

A jab to his stomach knocked all the air out of him and in seconds he was flat on his back with his arms pinned either side of his head. He gasped for air, face hot and red from exertion as he blinked his dizzy eyes up at Dream. 

He made a weak attempt at getting one leg between him and Dream, hoping to plant a foot to his chest and shove him back, but Dream shoved his knee down into the muscle of Nick’s thigh and a shot of pain at the pressure cut his escape attempt off.

The grin on his face made Nick’s head spin faster, though he didn’t know whether it was fear or adrenaline that flipped his stomach like a pancake.  

“Dead,” Clay declared, proud and smug as if it was at all a fair fight. He was six foot two for Heaven’s sake. 

“Shut up, you’re such a dick,” Nick spat, craning his head off the mattress. The grip on his wrists tightened and Dream pressed them harder into the mattress, leaning his weight into his knee. Nick yelped in pain, wriggling in a weak attempt of dislodging his roommate. 

Dream scoffed. “Shouldn’t have sent the video, should you?” His sneer was twisted with a satisfied grin and Nick would have been relieved to see that he was more smug than angry if that smile didn’t trigger every fear sensor in Nick’s body. 

“Well, look- Ow- You got me now, so… you don’t have to, uh, kill me or anything! Wouldn’t want you to go to prison now,” he says, awkward chuckle leaving his lips. He hears Karl and George lose it from the computer speakers, quiet but distinct enough to heighten Nick’s irritation. They weren’t helping him at all.  

“No chance.” Dream narrowed his eyes. “I want some sort of compensation. You have to let me post whatever I want from your twitter,” and the crooked grin he wore told Nick that his revenge would be far worse than the five second video of Dream snoring. 

“No way,” he said, shaking his head and yanking on his arms. The taller man leaned his weight onto his wrists and Nick gave up on fighting. “Get off me, Dream.” 

They both ignored the three amigos cheering in the background, this time for Nick’s demise.

Two-faced assholes...

“What’s your password, Nick,” Dream asked, cocking his head to the side with his sly grin. He was, humiliatingly, completely at Dream’s mercy and his stomach twisted at the thought.

It was definitely the first time that they’d been so close to each other; Nick had never been able to see this much detail in Dream’s face. For a moment, he got distracted by the little scar that marred the right side of Clay’s top lip, wondering when and how he’d gotten it. When his lips twitched down into a confused frown, Nick snapped back into the moment with the realisation that he’d been staring at Dream’s mouth. 

He snapped his focus back up to Dream’s eyes, unable to miss the way his brows were creased with thought, and pushed a defensive snarl onto his own mouth as he glared up at Dream. “It’s not happening,” he said bluntly, hoping the embarrassed red of his cheeks could be passed off from their wrestling. 

Dream’s frown deepened with annoyance. “What’s your password, Nick?” he repeated, pressing his thumb hard into the inside of Nick’s wrist. He watched Nick’s face with an intensity that definitely hadn’t been there a moment ago, murky green eyes flickering over Nick’s features as searching for something specific. 

“Kill him! Kill him! Kill him!” 

“George, you dick!”

“He’s from Florida, man! He’ll do it!” 

The pressure on Nick’s inner wrist made him grimace and when Nick forced out a rough: “No, Clay,” he squeezed the other wrist harder, pinching the skin. The jolt of pain mixed with the tingle in his fingertips; Nick sucked in a deep breath and bit down hard on his bottom lip as he desperately tried to think of a way out of this situation. 

His train of thought was slammed to a stop when Dream’s eyes snapped down to Nick’s mouth like a magnet, time screeching to a neck-breaking halt. For a moment, neither of them moved. Dream’s grip loosened on Nick’s wrist but he didn’t even consider moving away, unable to focus on anything other than Dream’s gaze locked on his mouth and his own heartbeat slamming in his chest, in his throat, in his head. 

His lip slipped out from between his teeth, and out of reflex, he flicked his tongue to soothe the sting, and he could not ignore the way Dream sucked in a breath sharply through his teeth. Nick watched his pupils swell and he couldn’t say anything about Dream’s pink cheeks because he knew his own were just as warm. 

And then it was like a flip was switched. Dream clenched his jaw, eyes flicking back up to Nick’s with a clarity that caught him off guard. “Fine,” Dream said, voice low and even. He stuck his tongue in his cheek for a moment of thought, and Nick tried desperately to keep up with the hidden thoughts behind Dream’s eyes. “Have it your way.” 

Those words ran through Nick’s mind just once, before one wrist was released. Before he could even think to make his escape, rough fingers caught him by the jaw, tipping Nick’s head back as a grin flashed over Dream’s lips. 

Then those lips were on Nick’s. 

Dream kissed him and he kissed him hard, sinking his teeth into Nick’s bottom lip without waiting for a response. The jolt of pain dragged a grunt from Nick’s mouth, and he pressed it up against Dream’s, allowing the thumb on his chin to drag his lips apart. Clay kissed him hard and deep and hot and Nick gave it back just as rough and unforgiving. 

His free hand jumped to the back of Dream’s head, threading fingers through loose blonde hair as he tilted his head up into the kiss. He craned his head up off the mattress, nipping at Dream’s tongue when it flicked his top lip. With a fistful of hair in his hand, he smirked into the kiss and yanked hard, dragging Clay’s mouth off him so he could gasp in a breath of air. 

It was only a moment before Dream caught Nick by the wrist, shoving his hand back down into the mattress. Except this time, he slipped his fingers up, interlocking them with Nick’s as he kissed him. He pressed his tongue past Nick’s lips, growling at the sharp bites Nick delivered in return. 

He’d forgotten about Clay’s knee on his thigh until the pressure vanished, Dream instead using his knee to push Nick’s leg to the side. It only felt natural to drag his knee up, dragging his ankle along the backside of Dream’s legs and pulling on the back of his thigh.

Even when they were kissing, they were fighting. Nick tried to press up against Dream, squirming and yanking on his wrists all the while trying to chase Dream’s tongue back into his own mouth. “Dream,” he growled when the Clay once again blocked Nick’s tongue, shoving his head back down against the mattress.

“Shut up,” Dream snarled, shifting his knee up the mattress between Nick’s legs. It wasn’t close enough and Nick’s underwear was too tight and too hot for him to handle. He bit back an irritated whine, and blushed at the smirk on Dream’s face. 

“You’re such a dick,” Nick bit, squirming when Dream put both of his wrists together and with one hand, held them both down. His other hand caught Nick by the jaw as he scanned the Texan boy’s flushed face and kiss-worried lips, holding him still despite how Nick shifted and fought, wanting to get his hands on Dream’s shoulders, in his shirt, in his hair. 

He was frustratingly intoxicating and Nick could not get enough. Dream who smelt like heat, like sweat and aftershave. Dream who dug his fingertips into Nick’s jaw and chin, grinning while he tilted Nick’s head back so he could kiss him deeper. 

The tongue that pressed into Nick’s mouth was hot and greedy as it teased his own, and Nick could feel the smug glee that oozed from the man above him. “Takes one to know one,” he whispered against Nick’s cheek, before pushing Nick’s head all the way back and dropping his mouth to the curve of his throat. 

Somewhere in the back of Sapnap’s head, he registered that he could still hear the other boys. Their conversation, the video, the fight; it felt so much further away with Dream’s tongue abseiling down his neck, and numbly he wondered if the boys had forgotten they were there. 

The sweet trail of kisses that crept up the side of his neck were followed by a sharp bite to the skin just below Nick’s ear, and he couldn’t stop the cry from spilling from his mouth. Grinning lips and a cruel tongue smothered the stinging pain as Nick groaned; words of: “Fuck you, that hurt,” being followed by a moan he couldn’t bite back when Clay’s hand disappeared from his jaw and reappeared between his legs, pressing flat to Nick’s straining arousal. The flush of pleasure that wasn’t quite enough dragged a helpless whimper from his tongue as Nick tried to grind up into the touch only to have it vanish altogether. “Clay-” he moaned at the greedy sucking on his neck, loud and desperate and without a touch of shame. “Fuck, touch me- Please,” he gasped.

And that right there was his second screw up of the night. 

“Woah, WHAT!?” 

“FUCK, no, my ears!”

“Oh God, oh no, that’s- they’re not fighting anymore, that’s not fighting!” 

The clamour of voices exploded from Nick’s computer, their previous quiet conversation completely forgotten as all three men’s heads were undoubtedly flooded with scenes they didn’t want to imagine, ever. 

Dream vanished from on top of Nick within seconds, bolting to the computer as Nick scrambled to sit upright. His face was burning hot and he could barely catch his breath as he watched Dream smack a few buttons on the computer before rounding on him. 

His own cheeks were flushed bright red and the look of alarm would have made Nick laugh had their situation not been as embarrassing as it was for the both of them. “You didn’t mute your mic!?” Dream demanded and Nick stared back at him in disbelief. 

“What, was I supposed to anticipate that!?” he snapped back, squirming under Dream’s dirty look. He was still embarrassingly turned on from their… activities, and he had no idea what was even going to happen now. 

They were best friends who lived together, not horny teenagers who jumped each other when they got a little bit worked up! 

Dream rubbed his face with his hands, taking a deep breath and holding it. After a second of silence, he let it out with an exhausted laugh, shaking his head as he lifted it to look back over at Nick. “Well, that’s going to be an uncomfortable conversation,” he said simply, and Nick couldn’t help but laugh as well. What else was there to do?

“At least they weren’t streaming,” he offered and Dream snickered at the thought, tapping a few more buttons until the screen went black. Nick dropped back onto the mattress, hands on his face as he took a few breaths. His heart was still racing like crazy, and the pressure between his legs was starting to ache. 

When he pushed back up onto his forearms, dropping a hand to readjust himself as he lifted his gaze to Dream. Sharp, green eyes were locked on him, more specifically his hand, which paused in its movements under the intense stare. 

Nick watched with bated breath as a small smile twisted Dream’s lips, eyes dragging up over Nick as if considering all the things he could do to him. Wondering what was going through Clay’s head made Nick’s stomach drop and head spin. Dream slowly returned to the edge of the bed and Nick sat up further, unsure if he felt more scared of excited by the look in Clay’s eyes. He moved to drag his legs back towards him, but before he could get very far, Dream’s hands were locking onto his ankles, one hard pull dragging Nick to the edge of the mattress. 

He tipped his head back to look up at Dream, biting his tongue when Dream cupped his cheek, running his thumb along his bottom lip. 

“That’s an issue for another day,” Dream said, wetting his lip with his tongue as he tipped Nick’s head back further. He shifted back, arms barely holding him up as he tilted his head away from Dream’s hand. 

“Oh yeah?” he asked, a nervous laugh dropping from his mouth as he scooted back further. 

Dream nodded, grin unfazed as he crawled onto the mattress. A hand to Nick’s chest pushed him back onto the mattress, another hand sliding up the inside of Nick’s leg. “Yeah,” Dream said, ghosting his fingers over the front of his sweats and watching Nick bite back a whimper. “Kinda busy right now.” He dipped down, capturing Nick’s mouth in another kiss; this one sweeter and softer than any of their others. He coaxed a soft sound from Nick’s throat, sucking his bottom lip and drawing his tongue out to flick against his own. 

“Busy?” Nick gasped when Dream pulled back for a breath, both hands falling to the waistband on Nick’s sweatpants. 

“Yeah,” he said with a sly grin, “Really busy.” 

[killing-all-joy]

Sometimes Having Terrible Aim Is Worth It

Pairing: Analogince Word count: 4,492 Logan uses he/they pronouns cw: swearing, snowball fights, mentions of murder, implied bad parents, i might have made lore for this at 1am while bored whoops

Overall, Roman and Logan were happy with their neighborhood. The location was convenient for both of their works (the theatre and the high school) and the environment was very lax. It was a low-crime, middle-class neighborhood with people who seemed very nice.

Roman, the sociable one, had made friends with many of the people on their block, only leaving a couple of houses alone. He had told Logan that all the people he had talked with were amiable people worthy of their friendship. So, Logan had accompanied his boyfriend during conversations with their neighbors on occasion, despite being an introvert with a general disappointment in the human race.

It wasn’t with ease that Roman was able to leave the house on their right alone. He had been warned not to bother the man who lived there as soon as he had moved in and started to make friends with his new neighbors. A blonde woman who Roman guessed to be about twenty years older than him had knocked on the door the evening after the two had moved in and given them the gist of the neighborhood. Her name was Janet, and she had told them about which houses had kids (as well as which kids were the best or quietest), how many people lived at each house, what each resident was like, and finally, about the man who lived next door.

Apparently, he was introverted and creepy, didn’t have friends, had the scariest Halloween decorations, worked at an age-old psychiatric hospital, and was rude and disagreeable. Janet had sufficiently discouraged Roman and Logan from interacting with him, but even if she hadn’t, the reports from their other neighbors would have done the job.

One kid said she had knocked on his door on Halloween, and he had opened the door and snarled at her with a realistic vampire outfit on, laughing evilly as she ran away. One mother said she had gone to his house to ask for a cup of sugar, and he had given her a cup of salt instead. Three kids all said they had seen him near the haunted house on Fridays. There was a rumor going around that he had killed the previous owners of the house Roman and Logan now resided in because their cat had made a small scratch on his car (Logan and Roman were less inclined to believe that last rumor; it was evidence-less, unlike the others).

But, other than the next-door neighbor they were both terrified of, Roman and Logan liked their living situation very much.

It was January, right in the middle of winter. The weather refused to let their area forget this fact; the week had started out with a snowstorm and after one day of pause, it had snowed every day for the next four days. It was now Friday, the fourth consecutive day of having snow, and the neighborhood kids had calmed about the state of the weather. Earlier in the week, Roman and Logan would often look out their window to find kids playing in the snow. Now, the excitement had dialed down and the kids were exhausted. The couple figured that sometime in the middle of the next week, the kids would be back to causing snowy chaos, but there was still almost a week until that hypothesis would be put to the test. At the current time, the block was quiet.

Roman appeared next to Logan, who was reading. He perched himself on the armrest of Logan's armchair and put an arm around his boyfriend.

"Hey, Logan?" Roman asked, taking a lock of Logan's hair and twirling it between his fingers.

"What is it you want, darling?" Logan replied, not looking up from his book.

Roman frowned. "I never said I wanted something."

"You called me Logan," he explained like it were obvious, "so, you want something."

Roman rolled his eyes, wishing his boyfriend wasn't so observant. "I want to have a snowball fight outside."

Logan raised an eyebrow, keeping his eyes on the novel in his hands. "I assume that you want me to join?"

Roman nodded. "Who else would I fight?"

"I also imagine you will annoy me about this subject until I acquiesce, or the snow melts?"

Roman nodded again.

"What's in it for me?"

Roman furrowed his eyebrows in thought. "Well...maybe, after the fight, we can curl up next to each other on the couch in our blankets, hot chocolate in hand, and we can watch Doctor Who or whatever while we snuggle."

Logan bit his lip.

"You know you want to."

Logan rolled their eyes. "I most certainly do not."

Roman grinned at him cheekily. "Bullshit," he said sweetly, "now come with me."

He took the book from Logan's hands and set it on the table. He grabbed a receipt from nearby and put it on the open pages, before slamming the novel shut and pulling his boyfriend to his feet.

Logan made a noise of surprise as he was dragged to the door by his boyfriend.

"Roman, wait!" Logan exclaimed, putting a hand on Roman's arm. "Let me get my gloves and hat on first."

Logan, who was already in a blue patterned sweater and dark purple scarf, dashed to his and Roman's room. He opened his closet and picked out his navy blue beanie and red gloves. He put them on quickly, not wanting to have to deal with Roman's manhandling once again.

He raced back to Roman who was waiting for him at the door impatiently. When he saw Logan, his expression brightened to one of adoration.

"Oh my gosh, mi querido, you look adorable!"

Logan huffed. "I am not adorable."

Roman laughed. "Yes, you are."

Logan knew that arguing was hopeless.

They took the accusation to heart for a moment. "What if the neighbors see our fight and it ruins my reputation and they never take me seriously again?"

"One, they will be too far away from us to recognize you. Two, they won't care. Three, I'm going to be annoying you for the next two months about a snowball fight so if you refuse, they'll judge you for choosing someone as loud and annoying as myself as your boyfriend."

Logan nodded. "Fair enough."

The two exited their house. Logan put his arms around his torso and shivered, the sudden change in temperature shocking his body, but Roman ran ahead. He immediately crouched down to the ground and formed a snowball, aiming directly for Logan’s stomach, and missing by a couple of feet. Logan gave him a disappointed look.

Roman huffed and returned to building a snowball. Logan shivered again, watching the small flecks of white flutter down from the clouds above and land on their suburban neighborhood. Logan was removed from their thoughts when a snowball collided with his stomach.

He stumbled back half a step, but steadied his stance and glared at his boyfriend. Another snowball was thrown his way, but Logan dodged and watched it disperse against the door.

“You might want to join me in the yard, Specs, if you don’t want me to break a window.”

Logan followed his suggestion, running to the front yard and immediately forming a snowball. They threw it at their unsuspecting boyfriend who was in the process of making another snowball. It hit him square in the chest, making him fall backwards.

“Oh, you’re in for it, mi luz.”

Logan rolled his eyes. “You’ve hit me twice, I’ve hit you once. I’m hardly the-”

A snowball to the lungs effectively shut them up.

---

Roman and Logan were hiding behind their respective walls of snow. Throughout the fight, they had been creating their own walls to hide behind to avoid getting hit. The fight would continue until either surrender or unconsciousness occurred, and both knew the former would be the hardest to achieve.

Since the two were both overachievers and never half-assed anything, their respective snow walls were two and a half feet high, roughly four inches in thickness, and approximately two feet wide. Roman had drawn an ‘R’ into his for dramatic effect, and Logan had hit the ‘R’ purposely with a snowball twice.

Neither knew how much time had passed, nor could they sense just how cold they were. All they could think about was demolishing their beloved in a violent war of snow, where only one could be crowned victor.

They were so unfocused that they didn’t notice a door opening and closing. Their eyes were so zeroed in on each other that Logan couldn’t see anything but his weapon and his target.

Logan knew the second the snowball left his hands that he would not land the shot. They were off by at least a couple of feet. They paid it no mind, however, and focused on evading Roman’s next attack.

The snowball landed with an audible smack.

That was unusual; dodged snowballs normally landed soundlessly on the ground.

What was also unusual was the yelp accompanying the sound.

Two shocked heads turned and watched as an unfamiliar man was thrown off his balance from Logan’s ruthlessly packed snowball. He didn’t fall to the ground, no, he was too scary and intimidating for that kind of humiliation to ever befall him. But, he was inconvenienced just enough so that Roman and Logan were terrified for their lives.

Logan hadn’t hit any old neighbor that lived on their block. He had hit the man who lived to their right.

The man who was evil, scary, probably a serial killer; the person that even the adults were scared of. He overdid Halloween, had no friends, and worked at a psychiatric hospital. He could probably kill them if he wanted to. According to the rumors, he had killed for lesser motives.

His eyes locked with both of the men at once, and Logan and Roman had never been more scared in their time together. He was terrifying.

With a black shirt, black jeans, black and purple hair, and a black hoodie, the man next door with tattoos creeping up his neck and black eyeshadow under his eyes looked very much the part the rest of the street had cast him as.

Logan and Roman were truly and undeniably fucked.

When the neighbor stopped glaring at them and walked to his car, Logan and Roman simultaneously craned their necks back to face each other, a terrified look in both of their eyes. Suddenly, all their competitive fire was extinguished and they looked at the snow on the ground with fear and regret instead of devious fun.

Their neighbor got something from his car and returned inside, casting sideways glances at Roman and Logan as he passed them. He slammed his door shut, causing both men to flinch.

From day one, the couple had been warned by kindergarteners and middle-aged women alike that they were unfortunate to be neighbors with the man next door. It was today that this was proven. All they could do was wait for their demise.

Roman threw a snowball at Logan’s face in anger at his actions and bad aim. For the first time in this fight, he wished he had been hit by that snowball.

There was a four minute period where the two were internally debating their options of either going back inside or apologizing to their fearsome neighbor. Occasionally, they would make eye contact with each other, but no words were actually spoken. Roman, the extrovert, considered knocking on his door to make a quick and hasty apology while Logan, the introvert, thought about writing an apology letter and sliding it under his door.

Neither of their ideas needed to be put to action, however, since the neighbor exited his house once again.

The two resisted the overwhelming urge to cower in fear. They had never seen him before, and now they had seen him twice in less than ten minutes? Clearly, they had ticked him off.

In an effort to not make it look as though they were staring, Logan and Roman stuck their gazes on each other. Each could tell that their partner was resisting their instincts telling them to run as far away as they could as fast as possible. But they couldn’t be rude—not when that man lived right next to them and could approach their house at any time. The serial killer rumors suddenly seemed more plausible.

What greeted them (or rather, Logan) instead, was a snowball to the back.

Logan, who was tenser than a taut rope, stumbled from the harsh impact. When he was able to regain his stance, his head whipped around to look at his attacker.

The neighbor had on, of all things, a smile.

He had discarded his hoodie for a fluffy black sweater with purple bats on it. He was now in a black beanie and had on midnight blue gloves. While his winter attire was surprising considering he already had a hoodie and didn’t seem to leave his house much, the mischievous smile was the most perplexing of all new things about their neighbor. Neither Logan nor Roman could make sense of it, except that it let them see the infamously creepy stranger in a new light.

Logan huffed out a bemused laugh, staring at the neighbor (who looked to be similar in age to them) like he was a gripping plot twist in a novel that unexpectedly ended happily. He shook his head a bit, but crouched down and formed another snowball. He made sure not to throw it as hard as the first one he had thrown at the stranger.

The man dodged it with ease, running closer to the snow-covered couple’s house. He swiped some snow off the porch rail and quickly packed it before throwing it at Roman, who was too busy being bewildered to do anything to dodge. He gasped in offense and coughed when the snowball collided with his sternum, and directed a playful glare at his attacker. He threw a snowball at him in return.

The neighbor easily dodged that one, but wasn’t able to dodge the snowball Logan had thrown his way. His attention switched over to the bespectacled assailant, looking at them just in time to see him throw another snowball at his boyfriend.

“How the hell did you make a snowball that quickly, cariño?”

“I have a snow wall, Ro. What do you think I put behind it? Action figures?” Logan retorted sarcastically.

Roman rolled his eyes and formed another snowball, sending it through the air and smack into Logan’s wall. “Every man for himself!”

The neighbor laughed at that, and the snowball fight continued.

---

As it turned out, Logan and Roman were at a disadvantage from already being out in the snow before their neighbor joined in. He was able to make them both surrender eventually, but not before Roman had aimed a snowball at a precise place on the back of his neck where the snow fell down the back of his shirt.

Logan was the wiser out of the couple and had surrendered first (not without a fight, though). He figured he deserved it; he had been the one to disturb the stranger, after all. This made him able to watch as both Roman and the stranger started to shiver more and more as the fight had continued.

When Roman finally did surrender, Logan laughed in his face and then put an arm around him. Logan took one hand in his and was able to tell his fingers were numb.

“You just never know when to quit, do you?” they sighed fondly.

“I did eventually!” protested Roman indignantly.

The stranger chuckled from beside him. “Would’ve been easier for your poor body if you’d surrendered when you knew you were gonna lose.”

It was the first time they’d heard him speak; snowball fights weren’t exactly the best place to start a conversation. His voice was low, about as deep as expected from a scary man in all black. However, it didn’t hold any fearful qualities or scratchiness like the kids had described. The couple thought it sounded like coffee on a cool winter’s morning (which didn’t make sense since coffee wasn’t a sound, but it was all that they could use to describe it, nonetheless).

“And when would that have been?”

“The second I joined in.”

Logan hid a laugh behind their hand. Roman glared at him for encouraging their neighbor.

“No idiot surrenders the second another person joins,” Roman muttered.

“Exactly,” the man said with a wink. Logan was able to spot him curling his arms around himself, probably from being cold.

Roman gasped loudly when he finally realized what the stranger was saying. “How dare you!”

He stumbled out of Logan’s arms and collected more snow off the porch railing, making it into a large, messy ball and chucking it at the stranger.

It hit his face. Not hard in any shape or form; no harm would be done, but it was still a bunch of cold water shoved in his face and falling into the front of his sweater.

The stranger furiously batted at the snow on his face.

“Serves you right,” Roman mumbled.

Logan rolled his eyes. “Sorry, that must’ve been freezing.”

The man nodded.

“Come on in,” Logan invited, opening the door. “We can make you some hot chocolate.”

Roman rushed inside, running to the storage closet that had extra blankets.

“A-are you s-su-re?” the stranger said, syllables separate and repetitive from his shivering. The snow in his face caused his teeth to chatter.

“Of course,” Logan said, “it’s our—well, mostly my fault, that you got cold anyway. I’m Logan. He/they pronouns.”

Virgil chuckled. “L-log-an, h-uh? Was st-st-starting to thi-nk y-you were j-just gi-v-ven a b-bunch of p-pet names at b-birth.”

Logan blushed furiously, but laughed. Roman referred to him with Spanish terms of endearment more than he did his legal name.

“At this point, I might as well have been. I tend to respond to any unfamiliar word that vaguely sounds like Spanish now.”

They ushered the freezing stranger inside. Roman had returned from the storage closet with a blanket wrapped around his shoulders and another under his arm. Logan took the blanket that wasn’t shrouding his shivering boyfriend and wrapped it around the stranger’s shoulders, who tugged it tighter around himself eagerly.

Logan went to the kitchen, putting three mugs of milk into the microwave and setting it for two minutes. They then returned to Roman and their neighbor who were shivering in silence.

“Thanks for joining us,” Roman said, “that was fun.”

“It was,” he agreed, shivering starting to calm down. “T-thank you for letting me p-participate.” Not fully, however.

“Of course,” said Logan, putting an arm on Roman’s shoulders. “I totally meant that snowball as an invitation. Fully intentional.”

The other two laughed, knowing that was a lie. The microwave beeped, and Logan left them to take the mugs from the microwave. He put the hot cocoa powder in and stirred the mugs, before picking them up.

He entered the living room to see that Roman had sat on the left of the couch and the stranger in the middle. Logan put their mugs in front of them and put down a mug for themself. He sat down next to the stranger.

“Might I ask your name, oh Master of the Snowball?” Roman asked.

The stranger snorted. “That’s much better than my name. My name’s Virgil. He/him.”

Logan smiled to himself. “Not at all, that’s a very nice name.”

Virgil choked on the hot chocolate he was sipping. “Thank you,” he said quietly.

“Fits your aesthetic,” Roman remarked.

Virgil opened his mouth, looking offended. “And what’s that supposed to mean?”

It was obviously a joke, but Logan and Roman knew they had to tell Virgil of the rumors and his reputation. Especially now that they saw him as a good guy.

“Halloween,” Roman started to list, “everyday-is-spooky-season aesthetic, seems like the type of guy to work at a haunted house.”

Virgil scoffed. “Those places are stupid; not scary at all. If you want to go to a haunted house, make your house the haunted house.”

Well, now they had the Virgil-goes-to-a-haunted-house-weekly theory debunked.

“You do have ghosts on your sweater,” Logan supplied, taking a sip of the hot chocolate.

“They’re cute ghosts, though,” Roman said as soon as Virgil opened his mouth to argue. He pointed at one on his sweater. “See? Look at the lil’ faces.”

“My sister got it for me for Christmas.”

“If I knew your sister, that would probably explain the cute faces.”

“Oh, believe me, it would.”

Logan chuckled as he watched the two exchange conversation. He took another sip of his hot chocolate.

“So, um, I heard moving trucks outside your house about a month ago. Was that y’all? You new here?” asked Virgil.

“Affirmative,” Logan confirmed.

“Yeah, it’s our very first house together!” Roman said happily.

Virgil smiled. “That’s sickeningly adorable.”

“I am sickeningly adorable,” Roman said like it was a badge of honor.

“I agree,” Logan said.

A comfortable silence befell the group.

Virgil fidgeted, looking at Roman nervously. “Bit awkward question this far into the conversation, but I never caught your name-”

“Roman~” sang the man in question. He would have held the note out for an impressively long time if he didn’t take a sip of hot cocoa.

“Cool,” said Virgil awkwardly. “And I suppose, Roman and Logan, oh wow y’all’s names rhyme that is so romantic, anyway-”

Roman gasped, covering his mouth. His eyes lit up. “They do!”

“Are you just noticing this, Roman?” asked Logan.

“Of course!” Roman exclaimed in reply. “If I knew our names rhymed, I would have already written many a rhyming poem about our love.”

“That’s very nice, Love.”

“Don’t be snippy, mi cielo, you know you’d love it,” Roman huffed. “Virgil, don’t you think he’d love it?”

Virgil just rolled his eyes fondly, not wanting to get caught up in the middle of a lover’s spat.

“Don’t bring Virgil into this, Roman. You should put the subject aside, considering he was in the middle of saying something before you interrupted.”

“Yeah, I’ve been meaning to ask. Did our neighbors happen to...um...tell you what they thought of me? Ruin first impressions? It would explain your terrified expressions when we first saw each other.”

Roman and Logan looked at each other worriedly.

“...Maybe?” Roman asked quietly.

“There’s a small possibility...” Logan whispered.

“Y’all, I’m not mad if it happened, I just wanna know.”

Logan sighed. “Yes, yes they did.”

“What’d they say?”

“Multiple people said different things,” Logan began. “Janet talked to us first. She’s the blonde, short-haired, blue-eyed-”

“-Used to be a soccer mom, baby blue house?” Virgil asked. Logan nodded. “Met her when I first moved in, and once after that.”

“Her, yes. She told us, quite frankly, to not come near you.”

Virgil started to close in on himself. “Like how?”

“Said you were creepy, rude, introverted, no friends, freaky-as-all-hell Halloween decorations, apparently knew where you worked,” Roman told him, then noticed Virgil’s shrinking and stopped with the accusations. “I doubt almost all of that now, since you’re obviously not creepy and definitely have friends with that personality, but she may have been accurate with Halloween decor.”

“She was,” Virgil confirmed. “Go big or go home.”

“I believe you are normally home during Halloween, are you not?” asked Logan, confused.

Roman laughed. “Of course, mi amor.”

“Where do I work, in Janet terms?” asked Virgil, a smile tugging at his lips.

“Some old psychiatric hospital out of town.”

Virgil doubled over in laughter. He put his mug on the coffee table so it wouldn’t spill and held his head in his hands.

When he regained himself, still giggling, he replied.

“That’s inaccurate,” Virgil said plainly. “I don’t have a degree for that. See, there’s an old abandoned psychiatric hospital two miles away from the airport that is on the same road as the airport. It’s out of use, so that’s a stupid assumption to make. I guess I could maybe see why she made it though; I work at the airport.”

“Oh?” asked Logan, intrigued.

“Yeah, I’m an air traffic controller,” said Virgil with a shrug. “It ain’t that interesting. I recently got fully certified, though, which is cool. It pays well, I’m good at paying constant attention to things that could potentially end badly, and the high-stress comes from having to give my unwavering and full attention, which is something I can do well.”

“Less stressful than home and college, I guess, huh?” Roman guessed.

“Exactly, it's a spa compared to my parents,” Virgil said with a laugh. “But yeah, that’s hysterical. I definitely do not work at a psychiatric hospital.”

“I suppose what the kids said is untrue if what the adults said is false,” Logan mused.

“Oh dear lord, what did they say,” Virgil groaned.

“One girl told us about the rumor that you killed the people who used to live here,” Roman said, and Virgil immediately laughed. “Her mother said she asked for a cup of sugar and you gave her a cup of salt instead.”

“I hadn’t slept in five days and realized my mistake two hours later,” Virgil explained immediately. “I remember that one.”

Logan snorted. “One boy said you go to the haunted house on Fridays, which is obviously untrue.”

“Yeah. One, they’re stupid, two, that one’s only open in October and November, three, that one ain’t even scary. It has a good and free parking lot, though, and I volunteer at an at-risk youth center every Friday a couple blocks down that has really shitty parking.”

Roman shook his head. “Wow, we really got you wrong.”

“You were misled,” Virgil corrected. “It’s not your fault.”

“You know what, you’re right!” Roman agreed. “We were robbed.”

Virgil raised an eyebrow. “Of what?”

“Of friendship,” Logan said, taking a sip from his drink. “Roman would have been banging on your door two days after moving, wanting to get to know you. But, after a momentous amount of ‘rude’ and ‘disagreeable’—” Virgil frowned, “—he was persuaded not to. Our loss, especially considering you are neither of those two adjectives.”

Virgil smiled. “Thank you.”

Logan looked into Virgil’s chestnut brown eyes, and was able to spot the specks of gray in them. They gave Virgil a warm smile. “For what? It is our pleasure to be given the chance to know you.”

Roman groaned. “I try 24/7 to be dramatic and you do it without trying.”

Virgil, blushing, giggled. “You’re both good at it.”

Roman beamed at him. “I’m thrilled you think so, Nico di Angel-o.”

“Nico’s surname can be interpreted to mean ‘of the angels’ already, Roman, I don’t think you need to emphas-”

“Shhhh, Specs, let me shower our guest with compliments.”

Virgil’s face was on fire. “Do y’all have any movies?”

~

Taglist: @somehow-i-got-an-account @justanotherhumanstuff @fander-fic-recs @neo-neo-neo

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I wrote most of that when I went into a blur for three hours and looked at the time after I finished the draft to see that I had wasted all the time I had to do homework. It was worth it. I don’t know why but I’m really attached to this AU? If you want to see more of it please tell me. I hope you liked it!