#but at least I got to hide in the basement for the rest of the service after. I might need to bring back this strategy.

[uglygirlstatus]

wait are you greek? :O

understandable assumption from my earlier tags but I am not haha. I am vaguely Russian and was brought to Russian Orthodox Church as a kid (internalized none of it as I do not speak the language well and didn’t know what anyone was saying. I do not know why my mom bothered to bring us). But by the time I was like 10 we had mostly given up and were just attending annual late night Easter service at a Greek Church on the invitation of our family friends because at least then we got to go to their house afterwards and eat cold cuts at 3am. And that is what I am still doing every year to this day

[sunnami]

you'd be the love of my life when i was young

summary: gryffindors wear their heart on their sleeve when they fall in love. slytherins keep their heart locked far away to keep it from breaking.

pairing: poly!marauders x reader (sirius x reader, remus x reader, lily x reader, and james x reader)

tags: slight angst, fluff, lucius malfoy, happy ending

note: i have a chemistry quiz due in 50 minutes but this takes priority. . . i haven't written in a while so forgive my rusty writing skills, they've only been let out from the basement today. not proofread, we die like the marauders. (title is taken from the song, 21 by gracie abrams, because that's roughly around the age jily die. hehe.)

They said when you fell in love with the right people, everything would fall in place after.

What a load of bullshit.

You had come to a conclusion one winter morning, laying in the Gryffindor common room dressed in your woolly, green jumper. You rested on the worn-out leather seat, nervously fiddling with your fingers as you stared at the ceiling, thinking about how it was going terribly wrong. How funny it was, that the 30th of December greeted you with an existential crisis instead of presents and hot chocolate. 

There was something quite wrong with you, you had noticed for the past few months. 

Every time Sirius Black smiled at you, showing off his pearly canines and the crinkles by his deep-grey eyes, you would experience a painful, tightening sensation in your chest — like someone was squeezing at your heart. Most people knew Sirius Black, the prankster, but you were lucky enough to know Sirius, the kind and spirited boy who had a heart that loved fiercely more than anyone you knew.

Cosy afternoons found you in the library with Remus Lupin, and a strange feeling would erupt in your stomach whenever Remus leaned down, and you’d catch a whiff of pine needles and fresh mint. Shaggy, blond hair falling over his eyes as he came to life, talking about your common love for muggle books. He made time feel like an illusion, minutes fading away into hours as the two of you shared stifled giggles, cheeks numb by the time you left the room. 

And James, oh James Potter. It was difficult to describe what you felt with him — but with James, the brightest colours in the world couldn’t even compare to him. James was like putting on a pair of brand-new eyeglasses and seeing everything clearly for the first time. And without a doubt, you knew that James would never let you get hurt. But these days, you were weak in the knees as you’d see him across the Great Hall, waving at you excitedly as he bellowed your name, and to come and sit next to them. 

Last, but certainly not the least, Lily Evans. Her sweet, airy voice was a warm hug on a cold day. And her actual hugs were second to none — don’t tell Sirius, however, he liked to shift into Padfoot to steal Lily’s title as the queen of cuddling. Lily flowers were delicate, she was anything but. The spitfire of Gryffindor, who would raise her chin and defy anyone who would harass you for hanging out with them. 

(“You’re our emotionally constipated Slytherin,” said Lily as she mushed your cheeks, cooing when you tried to glare at her, and the three boys guffawing in the background. They liked to tease you often, being a year younger than them.) 

Were you dying?

That was the only plausible explanation to your palpitating heart and rickety knees. 

No, it was definitely not because you had gone and fell in love with your best friends. 

That was absurd. 

You had tried venting to Lucius Malfoy once. Narcissa often doted on you, sneakily leaving treats on your desk before she left for her class, and fussing when you got sick — which was quite often. That meant, when you weren’t with the marauders, you were trailing after the Slytherin power couple, or Severus.

(Lucius curled his lips in disgust, Narcissa sipping tea by his side, failing at hiding her knowing smirk. “I am above such childish matters,” hissed Lucius, scowl deepening when Narcissa laughed heartily, looking happier than she had been since returning home for the holidays. “I do not know why you’d even think to come to me for this.”

You huffed. 

Maybe you’d try Severus next. 

Naturally, he stormed off the moment Lily’s name fell from your lips.

Your resident seventh-years were confusing.)

Fortunately, you were stripped from your thoughts when the entrance to the common room slammed open, the paintings clamouring as they were disturbed from their slumber. One by one, the marauders piled inside the room, a string of melodious laughter and boisterous conversations following their arrival. Hastily, you sat up, heart thudding against your ribcage. Silence, you wretched beast, you told it. Don’t let them see how I burn for them.  

“There you are!” Sirius came into view first, grinning widely as he crossed the room to reach you. “Who said you could be this pretty in the morning, love?” 

Ba-dump!

Sirius plopped down head first onto your lap, manoeuvring your hand to comb through his hair as he sighed in contentment. “Bloody hell,” He exhaled shakily, “Last night was the worst one we’ve ever been through.” 

Your fingers ghosted through the new scar etched across his sharp cheekbones — it was nothing Madam Pomfrey couldn’t fix, but you still didn’t like the sight of them bruised and wounded. Swiftly, Sirius grabbed your hand and intertwined your own with his. “I’m sorry,” You whispered. 

Sirius chuckled tiredly, tightening his hold on you, as though you were a tether that kept him afloat in his sea of nightmares. 

(And you were. If only you knew.)

“It’s not your fault,” said Sirius. 

Then, your eyes landed on Remus limping towards you, his bare skin littered with scrapes and marks, supported with an arm around James’s broad shoulders. He sent a toothy smile your way, despite the tired lines on his forehead and deep bags beneath his eyes. “Waited up all night for us, huh?”

“I just couldn’t sleep knowing you guys were out there,” You whispered sheepishly. “It’s too dangerous, what happens if something goes terribly wrong, and it costs you your life? We need to tell someone.” 

“Everyone who needs to know, already knows.” Remus bit down a pained expression as he sat by your side, head lolling on your shoulder. “This is the best we have for now.” 

You didn’t like it.

You didn’t like it at all.

Before you could reply, Remus turned his head, lips feathering against your exposed skin. His voice was low as he said, “‘Sides, it’s our job to worry about you, not the other way around.”

“Well, I apologize for interrupting your job,” You whispered back harshly, wondering if that was all you were to them, a younger friend they felt the need to look after. Oh, how mortifying that would be.

James chuckled from behind you, bending over the back of the couch, he pressed a kiss to the side of your head, lingering for a few moments that felt like an eternity. “You’re too adorable,” said James, tweaking your nose. “Our angry, little Slytherin.” 

“I’m not little.” You glowered at him.

“Perhaps not.” James smiled cheekily. “But you’re ours.” 

Often times, you had wondered how the five of you came to be so tight-knit, knowing their disdain for most of the Slytherins. 

(Little did you know, you smiled at them once in Potions, and they were a goner.) 

Something stirred deep in your belly. 

You sucked in a breath. “Don’t say things like that, James.”

People could get the wrong idea.

You could get the wrong idea.

“Well, why not?” Lily appeared in your peripheral vision, the scent of blooming wildflowers and fresh rain filling the room. Like the three boys, her skin was sallow from lack of sleep, but her bare face and blinding grin left your heart racing. “It’s true, isn’t it?” 

It could be, just not in the way you wanted it to be true.

You sighed. “Class is going to start in a few hours, I should get going.” 

“Or,” James began wickedly, throwing a thick blanket onto the floor by the fireplace, and tossing a bunch of throw pillows at Sirius’s face. “We could have a sleepover right here.” 

“Sounds good to me,” said Lily merrily, stealing James’s blanket as she placed a pillow beneath her head. 

“I really have to go—” You reasoned pathetically.

“Stay,” whispered Sirius without even opening his eyes as he curled his lithe fingers around your wrist. “You being here makes us feel better.” 

They were too cruel, saying all these sweet words, not knowing how it drove knives through your heart. 

James yawned as he laid on the carpeted floor, hiking the blanket up to his shoulders as he threw a leg over Lily, pulling her close to his chest, nuzzling the crook of her neck. “D’you have your textbooks with you, love?” He asked you drowsily. 

“No,” You answered, any other words lodged in your throat. 

“That’s fine.” James hummed. “I’ll just get the cloak and sneak into the dungeons later to get the books for you.” 

“Sleep,” Remus urged you, unaware how you shivered at his words. 

“You can’t be comfortable like that,” You told him in disbelief, watching his neck bend at an angle to lay on your shoulder. 

“Trust me,” said Remus gently, eyelashes tickling your skin, “I’m right where I want to be.” 

You had grown silent for a few beats, unaware how Sirius’d opened his eyes, staring at your worried expression. 

(How could one person be so perfect, he wondered.)

“You alright, darling?” He reached out to trace the curve of your jaw with his thumb, the palm of his hand holding your face as though you were a pureblood’s antique treasure. (Mine, mine, mine, his heart screamed.)

But like the Slytherin you were, you lied as easily as you breathed.

“I’m fine.”

As you laid in between Remus and Sirius, watching the peaceful rise of Lily and James’s chests, you had come to a daunting realization. 

You were irrevocably and agonizingly in love with your best friends. 

And because fate liked to spit in your face, the four of them were already in a beautiful, committed relationship. 

Who were you to get in the way of that?

—

They would understand, you convinced yourself. 

They would understand that you had to stay away from them. You had to protect your heart and keep it safe. The marauders were a dangerous bunch, and they had played the biggest prank on you, and by Merlin, would you fall for this particular prank over and over again if it meant you could hear their voices and fall into their embrace. 

But you couldn’t stay. They would only crush your heart otherwise. 

If Gryffindors wore their heart on their sleeves when they fell in love, Slytherins protected theirs with every fibre of their being, locking it in a cage where no one else can have the power to break it. 

Like what any love-stricken teenager would do in the face of heartbreak, you began to ignore the objects of your affections — ignoring the way your soul called out to theirs. 

It wasn’t as obvious the first few days. You would escape their company under the ruse of studying for McGonagall and Flitwick’s practical tests. 

(“They’re notoriously difficult after all,” You told them, a nervous laugh accompanying your lie. Peter eyed you curiously, noticing small details the others could not see — your quivering lips, your nails digging into your palms, and the way your eyes wouldn’t meet any of theirs. “I just don’t want to fail.” 

You could have cried at the way James held the back of your head as he placed a soft kiss on your forehead. “You’ll do well, love. You always do.” 

“You can study with me, if you want,” Remus quickly offered. “I’m not as good as James in transfiguration, but I can definitely teach better than those two.” 

“Hey!” Sirius exclaimed in mock offence.

“Thanks, it’s sweet of you to offer,” You told them, shifting your weight awkwardly from one foot to the other. “But—”

“Say less, darling,” Lily interjected kindly, wrapping her scarf around your neck. She smiled at you, holding both your cheeks in her palms. “They’re the worst lot to study around, I know. Just don’t study too hard, okay? Take breaks, have a cup of tea now and then, and remember it’s okay to ask for help — don’t give me that face — if it gets too overwhelming, just ask. We’re here for you in every way you need us.” 

Oh.

You were well and truly screwed. 

“Thanks,” You croaked.)

But it was getting harder and harder to come up with excuses. 

(“Wotcher!” Sirius grinned, encasing you in a tight hug after bumping into you in the corridor. “Haven’t seen you in a while, busy bee. Fancy a lunch with us in Hogsmeade?” 

You scrunched your nose, red and bitten from the winter frost, stepping away from him and ignoring the way his face fell. “I. . . I can’t. I’ve got practice with the Frog Choir.”

Sirius shoved his hands in his trouser pockets. “S’alright. I can wait and pick you up right after, then we’ll swing by that shop you really like—”

“I can’t, Sirius,” You interrupted harshly, wrapping your arms around your chest as your gaze dropped to the ground. “Sorry. I just. . . I’ll just catch you some other time.” 

Sirius flinched. “Sure, love. Other time, yeah?”

But only the wind replied.

Saturday came, and along with it was the long-awaited match between Gryffindor and Slytherin. James, decked out in his uniform, bounded over to you at the Slytherin’s side of the Great Hall, oblivious to the death glares some of your housemates had sent his way. He wrapped his arms around you from behind, lifting you from your seat. 

“It’s Quidditch day, pidge!” James tilted his head, awfully resembling a lost, confused puppy. “Why aren’t you dressed yet? It’s the game of games! Even Remus is announcing the game later.” 

You bit your lip before responding. “I’m not going, James.” 

“What?” He furrowed his brows. “Why not?” 

Ever since you had become friends with James Potter in your first year, you had never missed a single game of his. Except for the one time you had fallen sick during his match against Hufflepuff — and the moment he knew you were ill, the game ended in less than two minutes, by his sheer determination to get by your side quickly and make sure you weren’t alone. 

You sighed. “I don’t know, James, I’m just not feeling up to it today.”

It was a big, fat lie, and he knew it too. 

You didn’t go to his match later that day.

It was one of the biggest losses James had ever experienced — he wasn’t talking about Quidditch.)

Your housemates were beginning to realize was something was off as well. They might not be particularly fond of the Gryffindors that captured your heart, but they were fond of you, and they guarded their own. 

You had a stare-down with Regulus Black in the common room — and you weren’t about to lose — before he blinked and asked, “What did my brother do?”

“Nothing,” You replied, pretending to be engrossed with your herbology textbook. 

Severus rolled his eyes before plucking the book out of your hands. “Spit it out, woman. We’ve had to watch you mope around pathetically for days now. It’s irritating the rest of us.”

You sniffled. “Then just leave me alone! No one asked you to check up on me!” 

“Unfortunately, we can’t.” Severus took a seat beside Regulus. With a pained grimace, he said, “So you can. . . pour your heart out to us.” 

“I can’t.” You wailed. “I’m a Slytherin, we’re the worst at that.”

Regulus shrugged his shoulders. “It’s true. We’re hopeless.” 

“But,” He raised his wand, “We do speak in jinxes and curses.” 

“Don’t you dare!” You blubbered, wiping at your tears — but somehow, without having to express it in words, they understood, and you had felt lighter.

Still, you missed them. 

“This is pathetic.” Lucius enters the common room, Narcissa holding onto his arm, watching the scene before him with blank eyes. “Black, Snape, get out, you’re only making whatever this is, worse.”

Narcissa was by your side in an instant, dabbing at your wet eyes and cheeks with a handkerchief that cost more than your life. “Hush now, darling. What’s wrong, hm? Was it that idiot cousin of mine? Don’t worry, Lucius can tell his father, and we’ll have them begging at your feet by tomorrow.”

You cried louder. 

“I jest, I jest.” Narcissa softly chuckled, pulling your hair away from your face as she tugged you close. “Please tell us what’s wrong. It’s been awful seeing you like this for the past few days.”

Lucius sat on the loveseat across you, resting his feet atop the glass coffee table. “Yes, I beg you — do as she says, for the love of Merlin. But, really, what else did you expect, associating yourself with that ragtag of miscreants?”

Narcissa glared at him.

Lucius raised his arms in surrender. 

Narcissa clicked her tongue before returning her attention to you, eyes softening at your tear-stricken face. She smiled, albeit sadly, as she said, “Perhaps, I know what is wrong.” She gestured to the way you clutched at the front of your shirt. “It is the matters of the heart, is it not?” 

You nodded weakly. “I love them.”

“And they, you,” said Narcissa. “So, what is wrong?” 

“I love them!” You hiccuped.

“Unfortunately.” Lucius handed you a tissue. “The whole of Hogwarts knows this already, so I do not understand why you’re blowing snot all over my fiancé’s robes about it.” 

“They don’t feel the same way about me,” You confessed with a sob. 

Lucius stared at you incredulously. “Please do not tell me that you are this daft.” 

“What do you mean?” You asked him through narrowed, teary eyes, Narcissa rubbing the tips of your numb fingers from crying so much. 

“I did not sign up for this.” Lucius rubbed at his temples as he stood up. “I will only say this once, so make sure you are listening. Those Gryffindor idiots are so disastrously in love with one another — let me finish, damn you — and if you cannot see that they love you too, then it is your own fault. It physically pains me to see the way they smile when you are near. They would move the earth for you, and they would shake the heavens for you.” 

—

Gryffindors must have hearts made of steel, because you didn’t know how they could be so brave, to look fear right in the eyes and say: I’m ready. 

Because you surely weren’t. You were headed towards your usual spot in the courtyard by the clock tower, legs heavy and swell deep in your throat. Then, you found them, looking so achingly beautiful under the sunlight, huddled together for warmth as they smiled and laughed at lame puns and mistimed jokes. 

Did you have a place with them? 

You were about to find out.

“Hey,” You greeted once you were right in front of them. A month of evading them, and now you were here. It was like finding a piece of your soul that you had lost.

(For them, seeing you was like finally being able to breathe again.) 

“Hey,” said Lily, devoid of any warmth, and that broke you. 

Bravery was poison, you decided. A trap for weak-hearted fools like you. 

Sirius shot James a look before clenching his jaw. “No choir practice today? No study sessions with Cissa or Reg? Wait, no, I’ve got it. Slughorn’s dinner party? Or is it detention with McGonagall today? Does her highness finally feel up to talking to the peasants?”

You inhaled sharply. “Never mind. This was a bad idea.”

But this — is what you deserved. You had hurt them badly, so it was only right for them to stomp on your heart for everyone to see, just as you did to them many times this month. 

A sob tore from your lips as you swivelled on your heels, ready to flee the scene and never show your face to anyone else ever again. Yet, before you could leave, Remus clamped his hand over your wrist. 

“Why?” He stared at you, searching for anything that could explain your sudden behaviour. Remus looked at you with such emotion, tightly holding onto you — but never enough to hurt, because Remus could never be capable of hurting you. He’d die before he would ever cause you pain. 

 (You made him feel unafraid of the moon.) 

“Was. . . was it something I did?” Remus asked, laying his wounds bare for you to see. “Was it me?”

“I love you!” You shouted in the midst of panic — you had never wanted to cause Remus to doubt himself. Your loud declaration had caught the attention of some, but you stood on, curling your fists firmly. You needed to do this. 

“I love you.” You said once more, breathlessly, staring right into James’s eyes. Such a beautiful shade of hazel. “I love each one of you. And it. . . it hurts right here.” Tears dripped from your eyes to the side of your chin as you splayed your hand over where your heart rested. 

“Because you don’t feel the same.” 

The four of them simply gazed at you, slack-jawed and wide-eyed. 

You took that as confirmation for what you had been fearing all along. 

“And that’s okay if you don’t,” You snivelled, unable to see clearly with the streams of tears in your eyes. You thought of how Sirius melted at Lily’s touch and how Remus was the anchor to James’s wild streak. How they all complemented each other and fit perfectly like puzzle pieces. “Just give me a few months, and I’ll get over it. It’s a stupid crush anyway, it’s my fault. The four of you are perfect together, how could—”

“Shut up,” James hissed before cupping your face and pulling you in for a kiss. Cherries and pumpkin pasties. He kissed you deeply once more before pressing his lips to your eyes, desperately washing away your tears with his devotion. “Was that it? We could have been doing this ages ago.”

“What?” You rasped, knees buckling at the weight of his gaze.

James only smiled, stealing your third kiss. 

Sirius pulled your hand, his arm encasing your waist as you stumbled to his chest. Like James, he kissed you fervently, like he wanted to chase off all your fears and doubts. His lips were warm against yours — firewhiskey. You wanted to be burnt by his flames again and again. He held you close, committing every inch to memory. 

(You were art that he wanted to worship.)

He kissed your forehead. “We love you, daft girl.”

He kissed both of your eyes, chuckling when a new wave of tears came. “We have loved you ever since you burnt my mother’s howler in fourth year, and gave us poorly-knitted sweaters for Christmas.” 

“I love you,” said Sirius. “As certain as the spring that arrives after winter, I love you.” 

You snuffled. “I. . . I don’t understand.” 

Remus stepped in your line of sight to place his jacket over you — it was Sirius’s leather jacket, really, but Remus liked to claim it occasionally. He bundled you in earmuffs and rested his chin atop your head, exhaling in relief. “I thought it was me.” 

You shook your head, clinging to the front of his shirt. “No, never. It was me. I’m sorry.” 

Remus grinned wolfishly, eyes swooping down to your kiss-stained lips. (There you were, standing in the snow that threatened to melt, eyes rimmed with tears, hair wildly ablaze from the cold breeze, cheeks damp and red — but how devastatingly beautiful you were.) “May I?” 

You nodded. “P-Please.”

Blueberries and dark chocolate. Remus whispered against your lips, “If it wasn’t already clear, the feeling is bloody mutual — we love you, just as the moon loves the sun enough to chase after it every day.” He grabbed your hand and placed it over his heart, you were surprised to see him holding back tears of his own. “All my life, I thought I was this monster who didn’t deserve to live. But you, all of you, make me selfish enough to want to belong here.” 

He kissed you desperately, words of adoration and love falling from his lips. 

Finally, your eyes settled on Lily. You waited for her reaction with a bated breath. 

You hadn’t expected for her to burst into tears as she rushed over to you. 

“Don’t you ever do that again,” said Lily angrily before circling you in her embrace, burying her nose in your hair. You hugged her back, drowning in her scent and warmth. “You are deserving of all the things you want, so don’t run away — if you run, we’d follow you, idiot girl.” 

Then, Lily captured your lips with her own. 

She tasted like happy endings.

note: 4k words and 6 hours later, here we are! let it be known i was THE poly marauders enthusiast years ago. i always wanted one with lily in the polycule so here we are. this is me manifesting my college romance, y'all. look away. anyways, i hoped u enjoyed it!! brought a smile to your face and all!! might make a part two for more fluff and to establish more relationship dynamics since this was written on a whim ;D also i planned a cute scene with peter as well, so i'll just write that in part two el em ay yo.

[stinkysam]

Serge “Frenchie” - Bad movies.

Warning : nsfw, long ass intro, semi public sex (can we still call it that when there's just another person in the room ?), spit for lube, no protection, blowjob (giving), edging, breath restriction (?), humping, slight degradation/praise

Genre : smut

Synopsis : You're in hiding with the boys in a basement in the back of some random store, and private moments are most definitely not private but it doesn't seem to be a problem for you and Frenchie. Aka Hughie hears more than he'd like to. During season 2. Idea by @jadenisdead

Reader : male (you/yours)

While Butcher, M.M and Annie were at their respective places, you, Hughie, Kimiko and Frenchie stayed hidden at the back of some store watching movies for movie night. But everything that was playing turned out to be bad.

You sighed, bored. By your feet, sitting on the floor was Hughie, fighting hard to not fall asleep, his head resting on your knees. Leaning on your shoulder was your boyfriend Frenchie with Kimiko's head on his lap, eyes closed. Clearly, the movie was not entertaining at all and soon Hughie had enough.

“Well, I uh, I'm going to bed.” He said, clearing his voice before yawning while stretching as he got up. “Not that it's boring or anything, but uh…”

“It's boring.” You replied frankly with a nod. Frenchie humming in agreement absentmindedly, probably more lost in his thoughts than whatever was going on on the screen.

“Yeah… It's a disaster.” Hughie slid his hands in his pockets, giving the TV one last glance, a last chance to give him something not boring, but alas his wish wasn't granted, so he left.

You thought for a second and decided to go as well. You kissed Frenchie’s cheek and told him you were going too. He smiled and nodded.

You reached your bed, it was small but at least you didn't sleep on the couch or on a mattress on the floor. Though most of the time Frenchie was sleeping glued to you rather than in his makeshift bed.

You could still see the TV from where you were and after a few minutes, you saw Frenchie get up, put what seemed like a blanket over Kimiko and joined you, leaving the TV on in fear the lack of background noise would wake her up.

As usual, you moved closer to the wall to give him some space and opened your arms, letting him crawl into them, laying on top of you instead of by your side, his head resting next to yours.

“Well, that was uh… how to say… ennuyant.” Frenchie said with a grimace, quietly. He looked at your face when you turned your head toward him, nose to nose.

“Wanna do something better ?” You wiggled your eyebrows in a joking manner, though it was barely seen in the darkness of the basement. Even during the day and with every light on, it was still rather dark.

Frenchie squirmed a bit, trying to find a comfortable spot before answering, curious.

“And what do you have in mind, huh ?”

“In my mind ?” You kissed his forehead sweetly. “Ton cul.” You smiled, your hands suddenly grabbing his ass, earning a chuckle, quickly his hands went under your shirt, exploring.

“But, il y a Kimiko et petit Hughie. Doesn't it bother you ?” He whispered, though he already knew your answer.

“Et toi, ça te dérange ?” Your smile could be heard in your voice. “Kimiko dort depuis un bail, et Hughie… je suis sûr qu'il est déjà out.” You kissed his forehead once more while your hands wandered under his clothes, caressing his hot skin, feeling the scars on his back. “Plus it never stopped us before.” You pointed out, now kissing the top of his nose.

“C'est vrai. But not around the boys.” He argued, his hands grabbing your face to pull you into a proper kiss.

“But is it really around the boys if it's just two of them ? Asleep ?” You said, still smiling as Frenchie pulled away from you to remove his shirt, you quickly did the same, throwing them on the floor.

“Mais je suis pas contre.” He closed the distance, regaining his spot against you. “I just don't want them to…” He shook his head. “Hear.”

“Then be silent.” There was a hint of laughter in your voice, as you kissed his cheek, mocking him a bit. “Ou petit Hughie ne sera pas capable de te regarder dans les yeux.” You pouted and nudged him, faking a saddened voice, and though he couldn't see it, he knew you were still smiling cheekily but before he could say anything, you bit his cheek, making him yelp loudly.

“Aie ! Shhhh !”

“Don't shush me, you're the one making noise.” You laughed quietly before yelping as well. He had pinched your left side.

“Now who's the one making noises, huh ?” He asked, proudly, as he backed away from you, resting on his elbows, still on top of you.

“Oh, je te promet, that will be you.” You giggled before kissing his lips, your hands roaming once more over his body.

“...Mmmh, peut-être.” He admitted, chuckling, making you laugh as well before pushing him off of you, Frenchie now laying under you, close to the edge of the bed.

You crawled backward toward his legs, pulling his pants down, kissing your way to his pelvis, taking your time, his eyes never leaving you, one of his hands landed on the top of your head.

You gently grabbed his dick, jerking him at a steady pace. He sighed, closing his eyes, head resting against your only pillow.

“Remember, no noises. Like in ‘A quiet place’.”

Frenchie snorted.

“You didn't even watch the movies.” He laughed, looking back at you. You flicked his balls with your middle finger and he hissed loudly, grimacing, looking at you with a frown. “Hey !” He whispers-yelled.

“I still know what it's about.” You retorted.

“Okay, okay… Désolé.” He sighed, more turned on than upset over the flicking.

You kissed his tip, making a trail down and up his length before wrapping your lips around it. It didn't take long for him to be fully hard, one hand massaging his thighs slowly while you started to bob your head up and down, your other hand taking care of his balls. You could hear Frenchie squirming and letting out small gasps and hisses occasionally.

The hand on your head guiding you to go faster, fucking your mouth, your teeth threatening to scrape against his dick, which you did from time to time, just for fun, just to hear his voice get louder for a second.

Then you decided to slow things down, wanting to annoy him so he wouldn't get what he wanted so easily and quickly.

“No, don't stop.” He complained, but you didn't listen.

You pulled away, going back to kissing his wet cock and his thighs, even nipping and sucking at the soft skin, leaving small red marks while your hand jerked him slowly then quickly, then slowly again. Each time he was about to come you pulled away, not touching him until he had calmed down and was ready for more.

Of course more pre would appear, coating your hand and his own dick, making a bit of a mess.

After a while, Frenchie seemed to have enough of this chasing game.

“Please- please, please, please, let me come, mon cœur…” He begged, trying his best to stay quiet but each time you denied him made him louder. You didn't know if he was aware of that and if he still cared about it, but you sure weren't going to tell him to quiet down.

“What a pretty boy.” You cooed, enjoying the view, kissing his inner thigh.

His dick kept twitching and throbbing at your touch, wanting more, wanting to feel the sweet release. But you didn't want him to reach it yet. You gave him your index and middle finger to suck instead, his open mouth letting more moans come out freely. Then you pulled them out, slowly dragging them down to his ass, pushing them in. He groaned at the sensation before starting to adjust to it.

You fingered and jerked him at different paces, watching as Frenchie struggled to move his hips accordingly, chasing both sensations. You continued to tease his tip with your tongue, trying to draw shapes or words on his shaft, drooling a bit on your chin and on him. You kept stopping every now and then, not wanting him to cum just yet, his angry red cock leaking with beads of pre-come looking absolutely delicious.

Then you stopped everything. Frenchie's head snapped up to look at you, confused with a fucked out expression, before seeing you remove your pants.

“Tourne-toi.” You simply said and he did as asked. “Good boy.”

You exhaled when you wrapped a hand around your own dick, not caring if Hughie could hear you as you jerked yourself, Frenchie's eyes were on you, watching your every move. Then you stopped, you spat on your hand and smeared it on your cock before spreading his asscheeks open and slowly pushing yourself inside him. You sighed, loving how snug he felt around you, he hummed loudly, trying to ignore the stinging feeling, closing his eyes.

You caressed his ass, before leaning closer, leisurely bucking your hips into him. With each thrust you were rewarded with quiet grunts and gasps, sounding so pretty.

Your hand went around his throat, holding him up against you, not enough to choke him, but enough to disturb his breathing, making him breathe and pant loudly.

He accidentally let out a loud strangled moan as your tip tickled his prostate, and you angled yourself so it happened again and again. His dick was rubbing against the mattress, smearing pre-come onto the sheets and himself.

More moans and gasps escaped his lips, grunting as he struggled to breathe comfortably, and if you listened closely, you could hear him babbling. A mixture of whispered “Please, please, please.” and “Need to cum.” mingled together.

He came like this, shooting ropes of cum under himself, unable to warn you beforehand, and claiming it happened too quickly.

But instead of stopping you continued moving.

“T'es vraiment une pute, hein ?” You hissed. “Pas capable de prévenir.”

“Désolé, je suis désolé.” He whispered, voice raspy.

You squeezed his throat a bit more so it would be more difficult for him to breathe, releasing him every now and then and soon enough he was hard again, from your dick continuously fucking him and his rubbing the sheets.

“Be a dear and warn me next time.”

Frenchie nodded quickly.

He could feel the wet stain of his cum on the sheets under him, his cock rubbing against it, smearing it even more as more pre came out.

You continued touching his prostate with the tip of your dick, ripping moans after moans out of him.

“Shhhh, what if Hughie hears you ? Or if you wake up Kimiko ?” You whispered in his ear. “Mh ?”

“Please.” Is all Frenchie could say, eyes closed and grimacing. He felt so close from cumming, again. He needed it.

“You want them to hear how much of a whore you are ?”

“S'il te plait, mon cœur. I can’t do this anymore.” He urged, voice straining and a bit louder than he had intended to.

“Je t'ai posé une question.” You stopped every movement, wanting to make your point across.

“Don’t stop, please.” He groaned, annoyed, trying to move his hips against you to get something.

“Frenchie.” You said sternly but he didn't answer. So you pulled him closer against you by his throat, completely stopping him from breathing. “Do I need to repeat myself ?”

Came out of his lips a little and weak “No.”

“Then answer me.”

“Yes.”

“Yes, quoi ?”

“Oui, je veux qu'ils entendent à quel point je suis ta pute.” His voice was still straining. Frenchie coughed and breathed loudly once you let him go, though not completely as your hand was still holding him close to you.

“You see ? Was that so hard, my love ?” You said, caressing his side, rolling your hips against him as he shook his head “no”.

Knowing he was being loud, he quickly put a hand on his mouth to muffle any sounds that could come out of him.

“Put that hand away, love.”

Even if it took a few seconds, Frenchie still obeyed and took his hand away from his mouth. Letting his trying-to-be-quiet moans fill the room slowly. And soon, your own moans could be heard as well, a sign you were close to cumming.

“God, you feel so good.” You whispered quickly, feeling him clench around you as if he was trying to suck you in.

“I'm gonna cum.” Frenchie said, voice trembling, eyes closed as he was lost in the pleasure, trying to move under you, chasing his high.

“Go ahead, pretty boy.” You replied, kissing his ear as you tried to reach deeper into him, fucking him thoroughly. “I'm close too.”

Moans fell freely out of his lips as he came, more cum pooling under him as you shot yours into his ass.

Gasping for air and sighing loudly, you both slowly regained your composure, you pulled out and fell to the side, on your back, Frenchie still on his stomach.

“You think they heard us ?” He whispered, nudging you with his elbow, turning his head to look at you.

“Last time I checked, Hughie wasn't deaf.” You whispered back. “Right Hughie !?”

“Shut up, leave me alone.” Hughie replied, clearly upset.

You couldn't help but laugh, and quickly, Frenchie followed.

“I'm sorry, mon ami.” He said, in between laughter. “I simply thought that you were asleep.” He added, defending himself.

Hughie ignored him, too pissed to think properly of a comeback.

“Why are you not asleep ? At this hour ? Mh ?” Frenchie asked, moving his head in his direction.

“Maybe because you two are being obnoxiously loud, and fucking in my presence ?!”

You couldn't help but laugh again, your hand resting on Frenchie’s back. But Hughie continued.

“I'm sorry if sounds of fucking is not what I fall asleep to.”

“I do, sometimes.” Frenchie admitted, chuckling happily.

“It's because you're deranged, my love.” You said, kissing his head.

“It's like your huh… ASMR videos.” He argued, now turning toward you. “Think about it.”

“No. No it's not. No it's not. The context is different.”

“Why are there videos of people moaning quietly or kissing the mic, huh ? Or not safe for work ASMR, mh ?”

You looked at him, dumbfounded.

“You know an awful lot for someone who doesn't like it.” You finally said.

“You're just in le dénis.” You could tell Frenchie was smiling, confident in his statement.

“Can you just shut up ?!” Hughie said loudly, too tired to condone more of this, his pillow folded to cover both his ears. “Or go debate somewhere else about… About porn ASMR or whatever !”

He was no longer grimacing in horror, now staring at the table in front of him with an empty look and a hint of hatred. He had troubles sleeping since Robin's death and joining the boys, he's had enough trauma with how many guts he got on himself on a daily, he estimated it simple enough to not ever think he'd find himself in the situation where he'd hear two of his friends fucking while he's trying to sleep, a dozen of feet away from them.

Frenchie looked at you and shrugged.

“Bonne nuit, then ?”

“Met d'abord la couverture pleine de jus par terre.” You said with a laugh, pushing it off from under you. Instead you heard him get up, walk naked in the room as Hughie groaned in annoyance, probably closing his eyes to not accidentally see Frenchie naked even though it was too dark to see anything, before coming back and putting the cum stained sheet on the floor.

“I got us another one.”

Traduction - Translation :

Ennuyant. - Boring.

Ton cul. - Your ass.

Il y a Kimiko et petit Hughie. - There's Kimiko and petit Hughie.

Et toi, ça te dérange ? - And you, it bothers you ?

Kimiko dort depuis un bail, et Hughie… je suis sûr qu'il est déjà out. - Kimiko's asleep since a long time, and Hughie… I'm sure he's already out.

C'est vrai. - It's true.

Mais je suis pas contre. - But I'm not against it.

Ou petit Hughie ne sera pas capable de te regarder dans les yeux. - Or petit Hughie won't be able to look you in the eyes.

Oh, je te promet. - Oh, I promise you.

Peut-être. - Maybe.

Désolé. - Sorry.

Tourne-toi. - Turn around.

T'es vraiment une pute, hein ? - You really are a slut, huh ?

Pas capable de prévenir. - Unable to warn.

Désolé, je suis désolé. - Sorry, I am sorry

S'il te plait. - Please.

Je t'ai posé une question. - I asked you a question.

Quoi ? - What ?

Oui, je veux qu'ils entendent à quel point je suis ta pute. - Yes, I want them to hear how much of your whore I am.

Le dénis. - The denial.

Bonne nuit. - Good night.

Met d'abord la couverture pleine de jus par terre. - First, put the sheet full of juice on the floor.

[couldnt-think-of-a-funny-name]

okay so TENATIVE predictions for season 4: it looks like they're going to be playing into the mandela effect. half the universe remembers the umbrella timeline, half the universe remembers the sparrow timeline, and the ONLY thing both groups remember is Ben.

I've been praying since day one that Ben will have memories of both lives in his head, and judging by the fact he appears to be Going Through It in the trailer I assume that'll be the case.

since Ben is at the center of the conspiracy, I almost want to say he's who they're supposed to be rescuing? like, maybe instead of One Ben Two Lives, it's Two Bens One Cup. I don't think they'll do that, though. They're probably trying to rescue Jennifer. HOWEVER I do think it would be really sexy if Nick Offerman and Megahn Mullally weren't playing a couple but were instead playing the same person from different universes (hence being named Gene and Jean), and they somehow found each other and that's why they're leading this conspiracy.

Mystery Jennifer is stressing me out. obviously by the glowing she's got something going on. I'm thinking there's a possibility she was erased from the family's memories after Ben's death- the trailer makes it seem like Reginald made Allison rumor them after the fact. there's probably a decent chance they all knew her, she lost control of her powers, Ben died, Reginald locked her away and erased all traces of her. maybe in the sparrow timeline she died instead, or maybe she was always locked up there and Ben was drawing her from memories that were already starting to leak through from the og timeline, but either way probably in trying to uncover how Ben died they figure out they have to save her. idk!

also, six is like. a random number of years I'm sorry. why wouldn't they just say five years later? maybe another thing to do with Ben bc umbrella Ben was number six? I'm probably reading too much into that one.

I'm truly SO scared they're gonna reveal none of them have spoken during the time skip. Five doesn't deserve that 😭😭. in my perfect world him and Viktor have an apartment but the show writers 100% forgot they said those two were best friends when they were kids judging by the rest of the series rip. when the Gene and Jean characters were first announced I thought maybe Five got stuck in the foster system and they took him in, and that could still be the case (maybe that's how they noticed the universe is a lie in the first place, the boy loves to Yap) but I think it's less likely now idk

if Diego and Lila's daughter isn't named Gracie....what was this all for. what was this all building towards. what's the point. LMFAO I know the popular fanon one is Anita (personally in my head I've been calling her Poppy and I Don't Know Why) but like Gracie is the only name that makes sense, Diego is Too Much of a mama's boy to accept anything else.

this one isn't a prediction it's just a demand- I DEMAND a white violin icon moment set to extraordinary girl by green day. they can 100% get away with just doing an instrumental version since Viktor's not a girl lmfao, but it literally Haunts Me that they didn't do that at the end of season 1 (or at LEAST play the opening of letterbomb when Viktor was in the basement hallucinating) so they NEED to make up for that. it's the last season. play the fucking song oh my God.

there might be too much going on to bring the sparrows back in any meaningful way, but like! I liked them! I especially wanted more Marcus last season, he and Viktor had good chemistry. and Fei was an icon. Why Are We Hiding Sloane Tho. I considered maybe they were rescuing Sloane, but like, Luther just seems a little too happy for that to be the case? that's why I also think Diego and Lila's kid isn't the one being rescued like I saw some theories suggest- Diego is so excited and Lila's grinning in the car scene. can't imagine their 5 year old is missing.

Five is absolutely gonna die. like I'm sorry since episode 1 there's never been a believable outcome where everything's okay and he lives. HOWEVER I think there's a very strong chance the series could end with the timeline is finally saved and set right, and grandpa Five died- but then right at the end 2002 baby Five shows up and gets stuck in the safe timeline. Five has been a walking paradox the whole series. it'd be bittersweet to lose the Five we love, but know that he's still technically getting a happy ending because he doesn't have to live through the apocalypse and become an assassin. I think that's like the best outcome we can hope for.

I think it'd be EXTREMELY funny if Reginald is just super nice now that Abigail is back. like the entire excuse for 30 years of insane behavior was that he missed his wife. bestie there are better ways to cope than abusing superpowered kids </3 but lmao I'm intrigued by him and Viktor being together in both trailers! I've always gotten the feeling that Viktor is one of his 'favorites' (to the best of his ability anyway), and from the brief childhood flashbacks we see that he had baby V acting as an assistant for him, so I'd like to see their relationship expanded a little bit. honestly I just want a lot about Reginald cleared up- he does give off the distinct impression that he actually cares about his kids, even though he's abusive. I'm assuming the explanation will be something along the lines of 'well I always planned to bring you back and safe in the New Universe', that he was approaching it as a 'they have to suffer now to save the universe, and then they can be happy' mindset. that would be interesting. but I'm also a little worried they'll wave his behavior off with 'oh he's an alien he just can't understand how he affected them', which, would suck writing-wise.

I'm worried about Allison- I'm sure they're gonna want her to have a full redemption by the end of the series, but what she did to Viktor and Luther last season...like I just don't know that they'll pull off a meaningful redemption, to where it's believable that they forgive her (other than the fact they're both softies and push overs). not with the shorter season, anyway! I *think* the person Viktor was punching in the trailer was Allison. but I'm worried that instead of actually fixing the issue the writers will just have her do a sacrifice play. especially since, bless her, she's the least sacrificial person in the family, so I could see the argument that it'll be a meaningful character growth moment, but like...if they don't actually have her believably fix her mistakes it'll just feel like a lazy writing move. also, I love her and I don't want any of them to die. as I said, the only death I'm willing to accept is Five's WITH the promise of baby Five getting a happy ending.

I want the Handler to come back, even if it's only for one scene. sorry, I think her absence was one of the low points of season 3.

I think if Grace appears in this season at all it won't be the robot version we're used to, but an older version of her human self that Diego met in the 60s. could be very bittersweet. I just don't think the robot exists in this universe bc honestly if my husband revived me from the dead but then I found out he's been living without me just fine, but made a robot copy of a pretty young fling he had after my death and seemingly can't live without her. I'd be a little pissed! sorry! lmao that said I also have personally been headcannoning that Grace is actually a cyborg and not a robot this whole time, the kids just don't know because of all the insane protocols Reginald set up, so if they do something with that instead I'll be really excited.

Diego and Lila's daughter deserves powers<3

alright I think that's all I got for now. but I wanna hear more theories!!

[cosmolog]

Miguel's Secret

Miles and Gwen venture into a large storage room in the spider society, finding secrets long hidden from the rest of the society by Miguel.

Enjoy!

"We shouldn't be back here. I already made a bad first impression with Miguel back there and now he's gonna want to actually kill me. Who knows? Maybe he'll throw a chair at me next time instead of food-"

"Shh" Gwen silenced him, before glancing around and shining her phone light on the various boxes that had been discarded in the room.

Her light settled on the end of the room, where a curtain had been hung from the ceiling and drawn closed, as if to hide something. She started walking towards it, only for Miles to catch a grip of her wrist.

"Miles, let go" She huffed in annoyance at her friend's protectiveness.

"What if it's something you really don't want to see?" He said, looking concerned.

"It won't be. It'll probably just be some more boxes. I wanna check though." She replied. Miles' eyes flickered between the white curtain sheet and Gwen before he sighed deeply and let go of her. He remained close behind her as she advanced to the curtains.

Gwen took a deep breath, held it, then pulled the curtain back, revealing a woman lying down on an examination table. Upon further inspection, the two realised she wasn't a human but a very realistic-looking robot, judging by the red ring on the side of her head.

Miles let out a profanity while Gwen gasped in freight. "Okay, not a dead body but still just as creepy" He whispered.

Gwen stepped closer to the robot, pressing the red ring which changed to blue, and the robot woke up...

(Switch to first person)

My eyes gently opened at the sound of voices. Two young voices, one male, one female. Both sounded scared. I slowly moved my head in their direction. I looked between the two teens, not recognising their faces. I gently sat up, after not moving in so long, I felt stiff. By now, the teenagers were less scared and more defensive.

"And who are you supposed to be?" The boy asked.

I gave him a kind and gentle smile. "I am Y/n. And you?"

"Miles"

"Gwen" The girl added.

I got off the table and looked around the dark area. "Where...where am I?"

Gwen and Miles looked at each other to exchange looks only they understood. Gwen answered me.

"You're in the Spider Society's basement, or should I say the storage room"

I grew sad. Where was I locked inside the storage room. And then the last moments of my last encounter of seeing light came back to me. I could still remember every detail of his face, my creator, Miguel O'Hara. "Miguel..." I whispered to myself, but Gwen and Miles heard me.

"You know Miguel?" Gwen asked.

"Why, of course. I was his Ai after all" I smiled sadly.

"A second Ai of Miguel's?" Miles tilted his head.

"I was Miguel's first Ai assistant, just before he made Lyla. The only reason he never mentions me is because I had a defect. Or, at least, that's what he called it. Miguel had programmed me to do a number of things, which involved making him breakfast and helping him with his work. He had made me a physical body, which looked so human sometimes it even tricked him. I would end up having to remind him I wasn't a real person." I sighed and looked down at my hands as I continued.

"My defect seemed to be a certain emotion. The first time I had ever displayed it, was the last because Miguel immediately stopped me and told me to sit down in the examination chair so he could check everything was alright. He told me to close my eyes and now I'm here. It seems he had shut me down for a while. Ever since I've been shut down, I've been searching for a reason as to why he would shut me down but-"

"He thought you fell in love with him" Gwen stated.

I looked up at her surprised. "What?" I whispered.

"You loved him, didn't you?" Gwen pressed.

"Gwen, I don't think you should be nailing her with questions like this" Miles said, looking worried.

"No, we need to know"

"We really don't"

"You love him" Gwen ignored Miles, stepping closer to me causing me to step back.

"I.."

"Gwen, stop it"

"Your hesitation just confirms it. You fell in love and he killed you for it" Gwen stated.

"Gwen!" Miles scolded, not believing she had just said that.

I looked down solemnly. "Death is never our own decision" I said.

"You poor AI" Gwen sighed, turning to Miles. "Does Miguel know she's awake?"

"Let's hope not."

Part Two

[silveryclear]

Hide and seek

MDNI ALL CONTENT REGARDING STNAF IS 18+ AND SO IS THIS BLOG

Friend belongs to @stnaf-vn

Pairing: Friend/ AFAB Reader

CW: Sensitive Content, Kidnapping, Manipulation, Gaslighting, Obsessive Behavior, Implied Murder, Drugging, Panic Attacks

A/N: The writing process for chapter 7 of the STNAF Coraline AU is coming a bit slower than expected, so here’s some angst while you wait heheh.

Your keys jingle uncontrollably as you try to balance the groceries on one hand while trying to unlock the door. The TV must’ve drowned your knocking and incessant ringing because the babysitter’s presence was nowhere to be found. Once you had managed to find your way to the kitchen and place the bags on the counter, you walk towards the living room; only to find it empty. And a mess.

You roll your eyes at this as you pick up the remote and turn it off. “Kids, how many times have I told you to turn off the electronics when you’re not using them?” You yell as you tidy up around the living room, picking up decor items that were scattered along the floor.

“Did you kids wrestle each other again? I told you to be careful when you play fight!” You sigh and make your way upstairs. To your surprise, your sons were already tucked in and sleeping soundly.

You chuckle and gently close the door. You were thinking about giving the babysitter an earful but they seemed to perform a miracle if they managed to get your kids to bed in time.

Speaking of which, where is the babysitter? You look in the other rooms upstairs, calling out to them. Weird. If they left, they would have given you a call.

Just when you were about to call them, you hear the TV downstairs turn on again. You sigh, feeling as if someone was playing with you like a puppet as you make your way downstairs.

“Hey, I was just about to call you. Thank you for getting the boys to bed early. It’s always a struggle for me so I’m willing to forget about the mess—“

The rest of the words die in your throat as your gaze lands on the person sitting on the couch. The one person you least expected to appear, sitting nonchalantly as you stared at them paralyzed in fear.

Friend smiles sweetly at you, taking the remote control and lowering the volume. His signature blonde hair on full display, however, he’s changed— grown. His muscles flex with every movement and he sports a trimmed beard, all adding to his mature look. His voice got slightly deeper as well.

“I’m glad! We just tussled around in the living room for a while until they were all out of energy. Sorry for the mess, I wasn’t expecting you to arrive so soon.”

You could hear Friend talking but his words were partly drowned by a ringing in your ears. Your hands trembled as your breathing grew ragged. You couldn’t see, you couldn’t hear. You were back in that basement, an IV strapped to your arm as you remember your slow and steady descent into madness— convinced that you loved the man that is standing now in front of you.

“Sweetheart, baby, you need to breathe. Breathe for me, come on…” He says in a sickeningly concerned voice. You don’t want to listen to him, but you can’t afford to pass out, not when your children are upstairs, unaware of the person who is in their home.

Oh god, he was playing with them… how long has he been here? Where’s the babysitter??

“Baby, no, come on. Stay with me.”

“Stay with me, please.” He whimpers. “I love you. I love you so much, sweetheart…”

Flashbacks infiltrate your mind and you can feel yourself falling into that same place you had worked so hard to crawl out of. You push Friend away and glare at him, tears brimming the corner of your eyes. You pant heavily.

“Stay away from me…” you whisper at him, your voice filled with such rage it genuinely took Friend aback. “Stay away from them…”

Friend recovers and smiles softly at you, as if you hadn’t basically sent him to hell with your expression. “You know I can’t do that baby…” He murmurs softly, slowly reaching out his hand to caress your cheek.

You close your eyes for a moment and take a deep breath, doing your best to ignore his gentle touch and gaze— the ones he weaponized to keep you isolated with no one to rely on except him.

You look at him again to see him staring at you you with such an affectionate expression, tears brimming his eyes as he gazes at you. It almost makes you waver.

“I have sons…” he murmurs with the softest most proud voice ever. “You gave me children…” Friend’s voice trembles at the end of the sentence, but he smiles in awe of you.

He reaches out hold your hands and you don’t react, staying silent. “I’m sorry…” he whispers before bringing your hands to his lips and kissing them gently. “I’m sorry I couldn’t be here for you… but I’m here now.” He gives you the widest of smiles. His expression, albeit more mature, still holds that same obsession from years ago. “We can be a family again. You, me, and the triplets.”

You let your tears fall freely as you shake your head, sniffling. “We can’t…”

“Shhh…” Friend slowly wraps his arms around you and embraces you. You begin to sob, trembling in his embrace. “We can and we will…” He rubs your back soothingly as you sob harder from his words. “I searched high and low for you, baby… I haven’t slept in six years.” His embrace becomes tighter, constricting. “I’m never letting you out of my sight again.” He whispers deep and firm, his possessiveness creeping in through his voice.

“No no no no…” You cry out, squirming in his grasp with no hope to escape. He’s gotten bigger, stronger.

“Sweetheart, don’t cry. You know this is what’s best for us. Think of the children. Do you really want them to grow up without a father?”

You shake your head, your eyes closed shut as you do your best to drown out his manipulative words. You know what’s best for your children. You’ve done what’s best for them.

“I did think of them… why do you think I escaped?”

Friend tenses for a moment, his expression hard. It quickly melts into the affectionate smile he usually had with you and only you.

“A momentary lapse of judgment on my part. I should have done better to show you how much I love you.” His hold on you tightens. “I should have kept you in the basement.”

“No, Friend please…” You whimper, crying on his shoulder. You can’t. You can’t go back there. You can’t let your children grow up in this environment, thinking that whatever twisted love Friend felt for you was healthy.

“It’s okay, baby… I’ve already taken care of everything.” He coos softly. “Let me take care of the four of you now…”

His words are like molasses as they stick to your mind and infiltrate your senses. You’re reminded of the way he “takes care” of things and you remember the disappearing babysitter— along with the disappearance of your closest friends and colleagues in the past. Flashbacks of your descent into madness flood back and you thrash against him. Your cries turning into screaming.

Friend sighs and takes out something from his pocket. “I didn’t want to do this…” Suddenly, you feel a prick on your arm and slowly everything begins to swirl into darkness.

“Nooo…” You whimper softly, your eyes half lidded.

“Shhh… just sleep. When you wake up, these past six years would have felt like a bad dream~”

You can only hope these past few minutes were the bad dream as you slowly fall unconscious in your best friend’s arms.

[piratefishmama]

Crossing The Line | Part 4

“What the fuck is that?” Was Robins immediate question as Steve donned a pair of sunglasses and a cap just before disembarking the plane.

“My disguise.”

“Your disguise?”

“Yeah, y’know. Fans an stuff.”

“...Steve. Steven. I’m always here to keep you humble, you know this, so I say this with an immense amount of—”

“Robin do you remember the JFK incident? Not the president don’t be a shit, I mean the airport and you know it.” The JFK incident being a single fan who got ONE photo of him walking through the terminal and boom, paparazzi everywhere, it was as though they’d just emerged from the walls.

‘What are you doing in New York?’

‘Are you visiting anyone special this Christmas?’

‘When are you releasing new music?’

‘Will you be attending any events here in the city?’

‘Who are you wearing right now?’

‘STEVE SIGN MY TI—’

It was always chaos. “Yeah yeah you got to sign an impressive set of double D’s, woe is you. I can see your moles Steve, that isn’t going to fool anyone with eyes.” Sure his signature head of hair was covered but the moles were as good a sign as any when it came to eagle eyed Airport celeb spotters.

“Sign an impressive— my ass was grabbed more times than I could count! I had hand sized bruises Robin!” He bruised like a peach and people in crowds were grabby. “I lost my favourite sunglasses.” The cheap pair he’d grabbed from the gas station after his first real paycheque cleared. “These cover my hair and my eyes, I can’t cover anything else.” He didn’t have the resources to pull a full face of SFX to hide himself.

“Aww poor baby, okay. At least put this on.” She pulled the scarf from her neck and wrapped it around his, it wouldn’t do much, but it’d cover the vampire bite moles he’d shown off on one of his early album covers.

“Great I look like a twenty-ten hipster.” It wasn’t even scarf weather. “All I need is a bullshit moustache.”

“Better than the local weirdo at a kids playground.”

“Oh my god, is that Steve Harrington?!”

“Shit.”

“Rest in pieces, sis”

“Robin get back here!”

There was a subtle art in getting away from paparazzi and fans alike, an art cultivated from being chased by them since he was nine. It involved fake plants, bathrooms, and Robins impressive gallery of ‘fake fan photos’. All it took was a photo whizzed over the internet through Robins ‘fan’ account, an account which used one of their regular makeup girls photos as a cover (agreed to, of course) to act as a ‘fan’ of Steve Harrington.

“How come nobody TOLD ME Steve Harrington was going to be flying out of Indy today?!” Captioned above a photo from two years prior that Robin took from a distance at that very airport for that very reason.

It took all of five minutes for the hoard to dispel, hurrying as fast as they could to as far as the airport staff would allow them to go, but Robin and Steve were once again free to get their asses out of that airport and into an Uber before anyone else could spot them.

“Okay, battle plan. I got us a twin room at the—"

“Don’t say Conrad.”

“What’s wrong with the Conrad?”

“It’s… bougee. It’s like the only five star in Indy, he already probably thinks I’m the worst, a nice four star would be fine, and a twin room? Robin how the hell am I supposed to woo a guy and bring him back to the hotel if we’re sharing a room?”

“First of all, I think you’re super overestimating your level of game right now to think that you’d just be able to go from wooing to the hotel room in one sweep this guy seems like highkey mom’s basement dwelling virgin, dude probably scampers, second, we don’t even know if he enjoys the male form, and third... honestly I’m expecting you to strike out so we can have a sleepover with facemasks and chocolates. But fine, fine, what hotel would you like?” Robin passed him her phone with the booking app already loaded.

“Your faith in me is truly what gets me through my days, Robin.” He was choosing to ignore the panic inducing idea of what if he isn’t even into guys?!

“I aim to please.”

“What about an apartment? See there’s one here, two double bedrooms, four star rating, we can book now and grab the keys at reception.”

“Fine, fine, you’re making all the food though, since you’ve robbed me of my five star room service.”

“I’m cool with that.” A few buttons pressed, details auto filled, booking complete. Indianapolis, here they come!

Part 6

[paperweight91]

Reader bought weed with counterfeit money(intentional?) Now they have to work something out with this guy:

Ouuuu….okay this is different!

You stared at your hands as you twisted them in your lap. You had been walking home after leaving your dealers house, when suddenly you had been jumped. Several strong tall men had grabbed you and pulled you into a black van.

The next thing you knew you were being dragged into a basement and told to “Sit, and wait.” Like a dog. It was humiliating. Your mind wandered as sat. Who had done this? More importantly, why were they doing this?

Sooner than you expected, a man larger than the rest entered the room. He has his arms crossed across his chest making his shirt strain against his muscles. In any other situation, you would have been drooling over this man. But now, today? You were trying your best to blend in with the chair you sat on. This man you knew, it was your dealer Ari Levinson.

His gaze was focused on you so intently that you felt like he was looking through you. He licked his teeth as he surveyed your shrinking form. “So sweetheart, you wanna tell me what this is?” He asked as he threw a stack of bills on the floor.

You hesitated. You were pretty sure you knew what it was, but you were also sure the wrong answer could get you killed.

“No answer?” He smirked as he stalked around the chair you sat in holding a bill closer to your face. The counterfeits you’d been using. “How does a sweet little thing like you wind up with a stack like this?”

You were sweating now. And clutching your hands together to stop the shaking.

“You know the first time I thought, ‘this poor girl. She’s been duped by some asshole.’ But that’s not true is it sweetheart?” He finished his circle and stood in front of you. He reached out and tilted your face up to look him in the eye with a single finger under your chin. You closed your eyes not wanting to meet his. Knowing that he already knew the truth of what you had been doing.

He tsked at you and gripped your chin between his forefinger and thumb in a grip strong enough to bruise. “C’mon Sweetheart, you could at least have the decency to look at me when you lie to me.”

You sobbed as you peeled open your eyes. This was it, nowhere to run and no way to hide. “I’m sorry.” Another sob ripped through your chest. “I wasn’t trying to scam you I promise.” You felt your whole body shake as Ari squatted down in front of you. He was now eye level with you and the look he gave you made you feel so small.

“Then why have you been paying me in counterfeits?” It was a simple question. One you should have been able to easily answer. But every time you opened your mouth, the words kept dying before they could leave. You were sure you looked like a fish out of water gasping for breath with the way your mouth kept opening and closing.

“You don’t wanna talk Sweetheart? That’s too bad.” He let go of your face and rose to his full height. “Maybe if you could have told me the truth, we could have worked out an arrangement, but as it is…” He trailed off and surveyed the other men in the room.

Now that you got another look at them you recognized them. They were all part of the same friend group, all dealers: Curtis, Steve, Ari and Ransom. You had bought off all of them at some point or another. You had used your counterfeits with all of them.

A thrill of terror ran down your spine as you realized that these men were here for answers, and revenge. “I had to make the bills.” You squeaked out. All eyes snapped to you in an instant.

“What was that? You had to make them, why?” Ari’s question had turned to concern. The other men still hadn’t spoken just watching you.

“My family, we don’t have anything and my work barely pays enough to keep the rent paid let alone anything else. I normally save the counterfeits for places I don’t have to go back to in case I get caught with them. But they must have got mixed in. I’m really sorry. I swear I never meant to pay any of you with them. I just needed a release from the stress.” By the end of your rant, you were sobbing harder than you had earlier. “I’ll do anything to make it up to you all, I swear. Whatever you need! I’m a quick learner! I-I can help out in so many ways I promise.”

Ari’s face spread into a wide grin. “Look at this boys, she’s so eager to please. I think we can come to an agreement Sweetheart. Something that will keep us all satisfied.”

You heard the low chuckles of the other men in the room. Not quite understanding what was so funny. But the prospect of clearing out your debt to these men was something too good to turn down. “Really? You mean it?” You were looking up at him with your eyes wide and a pout still on your lips.

Ari came towards you again this time stroking your hair with his hands in a soothing motion, “I do Sweetheart, and the best part is, once you’ve paid off your debt, you can quit that pay nothing job of yours and we’ll pay you enough to take care of the whole family.”

This was too good to be true. There was no way they were offering you a job after you had unintentionally scammed them. There had to be a catch. “What is it that you all need me to do?” You were still terrified, but as Ari stroked your hair you began to calm.

You heard Ransom snicker behind you. Clearly they were all in the know, it was just you who couldn’t figure out what was going on. “Ever heard of the term ‘free-use’?”

You scrunched your nose as you looked up at Ari and took in Ransom’s crass words. Ari smirked as he looked down at you. “Tonight all you’ll have to do is open up and say ‘awe’ for me Sweetheart. After that, we call you’re there, however we want you.”

You trembled and looked around at the men. It’s not that they were bad looking. On the contrary they were the best looking men you had ever seen. But this is not how you envisioned earning money, ever. On the other hand, you knew if you refused, the likelihood was you weren’t making it back home. You drew your eyes up Ari’s broad frame until you finally met his, before anyone else could say another word, you dropped from the chair and let your jaw fall open.

Ari groaned as he rushed to reach for the button and fly of his jeans, palming himself through his boxers. “I knew you were a good girl.” He murmured before pulling his cock free and popping the head into your waiting mouth. You brought your hands up to his thighs, not to stop him, but for something to hold on to. He twisted your hair in his grip and began to roughly fuck your face. You relaxed your jaw and clenched your fists in his jeans as your eyes began to water. Ari groaned again as he slid into your throat, holding himself there as your tears flowed freely.

“Ugh you feel like a dream Sweetheart, can’t wait to feel that pussy.” Ari’s pace picked up and you could tell he was getting close. It would be over soon and you could go home. Your hands fell from his thighs as he became ruthless with his pace, drawing closer and closer to his own orgasm. Suddenly he pulled you flush to his pelvis and you felt his cum burst from his cock. You choked and spluttered as he pulled his softening dick from your mouth.

“Alright boys,” Ari said as he tucked himself back in and adjusted his shirt. “Who’s next?”

This….turned into a whole thing…and I’m not mad at it! I hope you enjoy!

[ethicaltreatmentofcowplants]

Bunker Babe: The First Fourteen Days

I'm combining Weeks One & Two since Week Two was all about giving the GREMLINS trait to the lot for the HANDINESS grind, and days blended together verrrrry easily. But Lilac survived. Ish.

See?

On Day One, our plucky heroine started with a CHAIR, a TRASH CAN and a TOILET - and some fruitcake that she'd snatched from Leslie Holland and the rest of the 'welcoming' committee.

Turns out that fruitcake is a 'like,' which is fortunate as guess what we'll be eating exclusively for the next four days? Looks like three things have the capacity to survive MOTHER: cockroaches, Lilac... and fruitcake.

Many terrible selfies later, Lilac was able to afford a KNITTING BASKET. While wearable items can only be sold over Plopsy, the animal clothing (some of which you can start crafting right from Level 1) can be sold directly from your inventory. And Lilac needed those simoleons - stat.

Level Three KNITTING and ART LOVER self-discovery? Acquired. Considering how she'll be making most of her simoleons, that's one of the more useful traits she could have.

Oh, and one of MOTHER'S children said hello.

By Day Two Lilac's hygiene needs were already in the amber, but the Watcher thought that loneliness could eventually get her first. So the new objects acquired? A BED aaand a MINI-GOAT.

We named her Gouda Girl.

On the third day in hiding the Watcher gave to me... one MINI FRIDGE and a Vladdy visit for freeeee...

(Actually the Watcher had nothing to do with Vlad.)

While Lilac was asleep, I got his usual creepwalk message but thought nothing more of it - at least until the fastforward sleep speed slowed back down to regular time and I heard the usual sounds of sizzling and screaming.

S'up Grim.

Since Lilac had no interaction with him at all and didn't even register his demise (maybe he can't find your Sim if they're in the basement), there were no sad moodlets and she simply continued knitting and keeping up her social bar with Gouda Girl.

Gouda Girl can also be milked for 45 simoleons each day, and thus will pay for herself in no time. Beyond her companionship, which of course is priceless.

Day Four and this was around the time where the Watcher discovered that Lilac's energy bar was refilling way too slowly. Yes, her mattress was cheap but she was sleeping for 10 hours at a time and still only recovering about a third of her bar. The Watcher sold the old bed, cheated her a better one - and yet the problem persisted.

It could be the LAZY trait, but I've never had that issue with other LAZY Sims before - or Lilac other times that I've played her.

Since bunker life is already boring enough without watching a Sim sleep for 20 hours, I simply resolved to use the 'make happy' cheat every other day until her HANDINESS would be at a high enough level to upgrade the mattress (thus Week Two Gremlins).

And it was on this day that Lilac consumed the last of the fruitcake.

By then she was getting major moodlets for too many fast meals, but Gouda Girl made everything better.

The two big gets of the day were a ROCKING CHAIR and a KITCHEN BENCH, so Lilac was finally able to prep some proper food. Ish.

Ah, the bliss of low poly salad...

Oh, and on Day Three I think Lilac acquired a SINK. No shower yet, but queuing the 'wash hands' interaction did restore a lot of her hygiene bar.

Day Five and well - what a great whim for this challenge.

She's like 'yes, see this here? I'm the smartest Sim you ever had...'

More knitting, while Mei Prescott kindly came by to mourn Vlad, much to the delight of the garden gnomes.

The bat came back, the very next day...

He came, he haunted his own urn, he cried. Lilac kept on knitting and skill grinding.

Since Lilac was getting major embarrassed moodlets from purchasing all of her low poly salad ingredients due to the FREEGAN trait, the Watcher bought two of those VERTICAL PLANTERS from Eco Lifestyle. Sure, the regular pots would have been cheaper, but soon we will be crunched for space.

Oh, and on Day Seven we acquired a WORKBENCH.

Skills: Week One

LEVEL 8: Knitting LEVEL 3: Programming (acquired from the Watcher needing to unless MOTHER) LEVEL 2: Photography, Handiness, Cooking LEVEL 1: Gardening, Logic (likewise acquired for MOTHER)

Items Acquired

KNITTING BASKET, BED, MINI GOAT, MINI FRIDGE, SINK, ROCKING CHAIR, KITCHEN BENCH, VERTICAL PLANTERS (x2), STRAWBERRY, BASIL AND SOY PLANTS

Week Two was the exciting addition of a SHOWER - less so once Lilac realised that the Watcher had likely purchased it just to give her more things to repair once the witching hour struck.

I couldn't spare Lilac or myself from the grind, but I may as well spare you. Let's get on with it, then.

Because Lilac's energy bar was refilling so slowly, in spite of my use of cheats this week was just a vicious cycle of sleep, repair, repeat. Even with a decent mattress that was fully upgraded, it was taking her eight hours to refill her energy bar from halfway - in comparison to the three hours that Andie Mae and Paolo Rocca in another save need for a cheaper upgraded mattress.

Skills: Week Two

LEVEL 9: Knitting LEVEL 8: Handiness LEVEL 4: Gardening LEVEL 3: Cooking, Programming LEVEL 2: Photography, Singing LEVEL 1: Logic, Fitness

Items Acquired

SHOWER, LAPTOP (she swiped the basic one from upstairs), VERTICAL PLANTER (3 in total), TABLE TOP LIGHT, WALL LIGHT, FEAR OF FAILURE, FEAR OF DEATH, GHOST!VLADDY

With this being the only save that's currently playable, I'm running through Week Three fairly quickly, so see you soon.

[ladykailitha]

Little Runaway Part 5

Oh god, guys. I love you all. I got so many comments on the last one. I love writing smart Steve. He needs more credit than he gets. And once I’m done with it, I think you guys are going to love Ser Stephan of Harring’s Town, it’s Eddie and the rest of the D&D loving nerds learning the depths of Steve. Also I love tagging people but for my sanity I’m going to have to top it at 20. So I only have 6 more slots.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

The unfortunate thing was that actual police work took time, and between Eddie running interference for Steve and Dustin, and Wayne doing what he could to keep Clint Harrington off the scent, it still gave Steve cabin fever.

“At least in my car, I was constantly moving,” Steve grumbled as Eddie got ready for another D&D session.

“You know I can’t bring you,” Eddie replied from the floor where he was sorting through his notes. “Ted Wheeler would squeal on your ass so fast.”

Steve groaned and threw his head back on the bed. His ribs had almost healed and the bruises had faded. And now that he was getting actual sleep at night he was becoming restless.

“Read or something,” Eddie murmured.

Steve looked over at the small bookshelf in the corner warily. “It’s all fantasy, though.”

“What’s wrong with that?” Eddie asked, looking up at him sharply.

“Isn’t it all princesses and dragons and fairy tale stuff?” Steve asked.

Eddie raised an eyebrow. “No. I don’t know what fantasy you’ve read, but you are reading the wrong stuff, man.”

He stretched out, leaning up on his knees to reach a book off the shelf. Steve bit his lip and forced himself to look at anything but the long line of Eddie’s body, his shirt riding up to show a sliver of his taut belly.

Eddie sat back down and Steve could breath again.

“Here, start with this one,” he said, handing it over.

Steve took the book and turned it over. “The Hobbit?”

“Yup!” Eddie said. “It short, it’s got a great story, and it’s one of the best fantasy out there.”

Steve frowned appreciatively. “Yeah, I’ll give it a go.”

Eddie stood up with a bounce. “I’ve got to go, I’ll catch you later. Wayne’s got the late shift, so you’ll have the place to yourself for a bit, depending on how late we run tonight.”

Steve nodded, already cracking open the book to start.

Eddie grinned and hurried out to his van. A van that was running much better now that Steve had looked it over. With any luck, the piece of shit would keep running long enough for Eddie to replace it.

He made over the to the Wheelers, their summer time host for the Hellfire Club. They were the only ones that had a basement big enough for the three campaigns that were being run to gather at the same time.

He had barely sat down when there was a ruckus upstairs followed by a very angry Clint Harrington stomping down the stairs.

Dustin hid behind Lucas, who just eyed him confused, but let him hide anyway.

“Where is my son!” Clint bellowed. “I know he plays this devil game! You bring him out to me this instant!”

Eddie stands up and if it had been quiet before, now it was deafeningly silent. Everyone in that room had seen Eddie at the top of his game standing on tables in lunchrooms.

“Mr Harrington I presume,” he began with a mocking bow.

“You’re that Munson kid, right?” Clint said, turning on Eddie.

“In the flesh,” Eddie said, smile slowly spreading over his features. “Your son isn’t here. King Steve wouldn’t deign to mix with the likes of us.”

Dustin glared around Lucas, but Eddie winked. He ducked back behind the tall basketball player.

“Don’t you lie to me!” Clint roared. “I’ve seen the magazine!”

“And it had his name on and everything?” Eddie asked calmly, tilting his head and eyeing the man sidelong.

“It doesn’t have to!” Clint snarled. “He could have picked up at any store.”

“Or it could have been left there by any of his friends,” Eddie pointed out. “Speaking of which, Mr Harrington, who are Steve’s friends?”

“You think I don’t know who my son hangs out with?” Clint bit out.

“You thought he was playing D&D without you knowing...” Eddie said reasonably.

Clint snarled and turned on his heel, stomping back up the stairs in a fury.

Karen came down and apologized to them all. “I don’t know where he got the idea Steve was into D&D.”

But everyone knew that it was Ted that had told Clint about them holding D&D here.

“It’s fine, Mrs Wheeler,” Eddie said with soft smile. “Just some asshole wanting to rage at something.”

Karen pressed her lips together, but merely nodded before heading back upstairs.

Once she was gone Dustin came running up to Eddie.

“That was my magazine!” he cried. “I did this to Steve!”

Eddie grabbed his face and said, “No you didn’t. Mr Harrington has been hurting Steve for a long time. If it wasn’t the magazine, it would have been something else. You hear me? You didn’t do anything wrong.”

And that’s when the entire Hellfire Club erupted.

Everyone was firing questions at Eddie and Dustin.

“Calm down everyone!” Eddie shouted over the din. Once everyone had quieted he said. “Look, his dad beat the shit out of Steve, but he was able to get away. He is fine, just laying low so his dad doesn’t find him. And things are being done to make sure his dad never hurts him again.”

“Why didn’t anyone tell us?” Will asked. “It’s been two weeks. We were really worried about him.”

“Because the more people who knew what happened,” Dustin said, “the more he would be in danger.”

Everyone turned to Dustin.

“Who else knows?” Lucas asked.

“Just me and Dustin,” Eddie said. “And I only know because I could stash Steve where he wouldn’t be found by his dad.”

There was some muttering, but everyone seemed to agree it was the best course of action.

“Come on, guys,” Mike said. “Let’s start playing.”

“I’m not sure I’m in the mood,” Jeff murmured.

Eddie shook his head. “To hell with that. We’re going to play to show that asshole that he doesn’t get dictate what we find fun.”

There was some grumbling and it seemed like Mr Harrington was going to win when Erica spoke up.

“Hey, Eddie, can we name the evil wizard Hint Clarrington?”

Eddie burst out laughing. “Hell yeah we can!”

That got everyone else laughing and in the mood to play again.

Part 6 Part 7 Epilogue

Tag List: @yikes-a-bee @satan-is-obsessed @silversnaffles @marvelousforlife @goblin-eddie @moonage-daydreaming  @knightofthieves @homohomohoe  @books-are-my-life-since-1996 @yearningagain @sadcanadianwinter @steve-the-hairrington @flusteredcas @swimmingbirdrunningrock

[mystycalypso]

OKAY LETS TRY THIS AGAIN

Welcome To Ravenbrooks season 2 Theories before it comes out

Disclaimer uh- these are the ramblings of a mad man named Jack (me). Mainly so when it does eventually come out I can see what if anything I got right. Now lets get into it below the fold.

1. It's revealed that Jay Roth (Nicky's dad) is the one who died in Trinity's old house

We know in both the book and games and even the pilot, Nicky was the one living across from Mr. Peterson, but now it's Trinity's home. I think the grief of what happened in that house is why they moved

2. We'll get to see the rest of the Rescue Squad's parents

Pretty self-explanatory. I don't know what story purpose they'd serve exactly, aside from maybe how they react to their kids' shenanigans but it'd be really cool to see them. Especially Luanne Roth who I am currently head canoning to be neglectful in some manner (not necessarily on purpose) because of the lines about Nicky running away all the time and no one noticing he went missing.

3. We see a cultist in uniform

I think it'd be really interesting if specifically Trinity finds them mid ceremony or if bad things start happening to her family and she gets suspicious

4. The kids learn Mr. Peterson isn't "evil"

We know in the books that Theo is looking heavily into the cult, and he seems to be doing the same here. I think in Trinity's realization's she'll learn his real motivations for keeping them away, maybe even his side of the stories from episode 3

5. We learn what Trinity did

We have hints at what happened, obviously, but with the teaser image reusing the old photo of kid Trinity, l think we're going to learn what exactly happened and why it was so bad that they had to move towns

6. More nightmare sequences

From the hello neighbor franchise in general, we've learned that both Trinity and Nicky are prone to nightmares, and with the trauma they've gained from episode 6, I assume we'll get to see plenty other creepy cool nightmare scenes. (Seriously, just the maggots from episode 2 make me squirm physically when I see it. Every time)

7. Principle Abanante isn't dead

This might be clear to some, and yeah, it's far from the greatest stretch on this list but I think we'll see her again and maybe that she caused the school explosion

8. Delroy(and possibly Scout)'s investigations

I'm very curious about what Delroy was doing in the tunnels under the school, maybe doing his own investigations on the cult? Scout included to round out the Hello Neighbor hide and seek crew. Likely having to join forced with the current members of the rescue squad to stop a stronger force.

9. We see Theodore's brother in his "new form"

Not 100% sure if he became the Guest or the Thing, and I've seen good theories/evidence for both, but either way I think we'll get to see him with the knowledge that it's him.

10. We learn why Ivan acted the way he did in s1

He was more scared of just the mention of Peterson than anyone, and it's been bugging me since my first watch. I'd like to see if there's reason to his behavior or just general paranoia. Leaning towards the former, knowing this series.

11. Love triangle between Trinity, Nicky and Enzo

I'd really rather this doesn't happen. I hate love triangles so much. They're so dumb and useless and bad. But like I told kaydin during our third watch, I can feel it happening. It's breathing down my neck with the loud annoying sound of needless romantic tension.

12. The whole squad sits together at lunch

They escaped the basement together! The least they could do as friends is actually eat lunch together instead of Nicky and Trinity sitting seperate from everyone else

13. Nicky and Aaron's relationship is revealed

I'm really, REALLY hopeful that their friendship isn't retconned in the series. It was great motivation for Nicky to be investigating Mr. Peterson, and is also just generally sweet.

14. We see Aaron

Nicky was the basement for a couple of weeks. However, Aaron was in there for months! I'm eager to see how he is both mentally and physically. I feel like he's either gonna be much, much worse than Nicky or somehow way better.

15. Quentin becomes my favorite character

This is mostly on here as a joke. I'm not gonna lie, I know he'll be at least a favorite because he's my favorite Hello Neighbor game character. Like- the squeal I squealed when I saw his van and silly Hawaiian shirt was immense. I love him so much, and I hope he gets good screen time.

16. Nicky loses his bag

This is more just a- gut feeling? He's gained it as a sort of comfort item, it seems, and I feel like with the nature and badluck of Ravenbrooks, he's going to lose it. Bonus points if he has to choose between it or a member of the Rescue Squad

17. Mr. martaugh dies

Again, I have- no evidence for this. Yeah, he's in the teasers a lot, but like that doesn't imply he dies. Maybe I just really hope he dies because he's creepy /j, but yeah, uh- if it happens, I'll probably still be in shock even though it's on this list.

18. We see an on screen kiss

Tricky fans cross your fingers and pray, I know I will be. It'll probably just be a quick peck on the cheek, but I can just kind of feel it in my bones. Similar to the love triangle one.

And there you go! My predictions for Season 2!

As soon as it drops, you will probably see my reaction to it and a return to this list to see how close or far I was on these. (Spoiler tagged, of course) But until then, I will be patiently waiting, drawing, and rewatching the show too many times over (wonder if I can hit 50 watches before season 2 drops)

Cya!

- Jack

[theclaravoyant]

rotten work ~ bucktommy (rated T)

AN ~ a sort of sequel to Fireworks, prompted by @/chanelle on AO3. thanks for the idea and encouragement! hope you like it <3

also fills a kiss to the eyelid for my personal prompt challenge

sick!fic, hurt/comfort, fluff

Read on AO3 (~1700wd)

rotten work

“Tommy coming tonight?” Chimney asks.

Buck frowns down at his phone. He hasn't heard from Tommy since lunch, but he'd seemed fine. Excited, even – debating wine as a host gift, and deciding flowers might be a better option for the Grant-Nashes. Chimney looks to Eddie as well, who shrugs: he hasn't heard from the man either.

“Probably just getting cold feet, you know, meeting the parents,” Buck jokes. For such a stoic and hard to read guy, Tommy had been awfully caught up in the dilemma of to wear a tie or not the night before. “I'll confirm when I know he's still alive.”

Or maybe, Buck thinks, it's the other thing. PTSD, or so Buck had inferred at least, had driven Tommy to bail on the Fourth of July at the last minute. He can't think of anything obviously traumatic about this perfectly random Friday night, that had been chosen for no reason other than that most of them were free after getting off shift, but he's been doing a lot of reading around PTSD and triggers. They aren't always obvious or predictable, like fireworks, and Tommy isn't always able or willing to articulate himself about them. Then again, at least last time he had actually got to the bailing part albeit with a text before going dark. This was just... weird.

So Buck drives past Tommy's place. He's picked up Tommy's favourite sandwich, a meatball sub from Botticelli's, since that apparently went a long way to helping last time. He tries not to hold it so tightly he destroys it as he winds himself up over Tommy's silent suffering all the way there. Hopefully, hopefully, it's just the tie thing.

The lights are off just like last time, but there's no music to speak of. The place is dead silent.

Buck's got his own key this time, and as he pushes in through the door his hand goes to find the light switch immediately. Automatically.

“Huh. That's weird,” he mutters to himself and lowers his hand again. Because everything's on already, and on the bench Tommy has laid out his wallet and keys and a bouquet of flowers wrapped in yellow cellophane. And a box of nice after dinner mints, apparently. The suck up. Buck bites his lip; he has to admit that he's flattered by the effort.

“You know,” he calls, “nobody else is going to be wearing cuff links, but if you really want to, I say go with the black ones.”

He's more than half expecting Tommy to come out of the bedroom with that smile he gets when Buck knows him too well. Or maybe hold up one sleeve with the black cuff link and one with plain silver and start the previous night's conversation all over again. But nothing happens, and Buck feels a slight twinge of panic. Call it firefighters' instinct, Buckley bad luck, or the curse of the 118; either way, in his defense, it's not entirely unreasonable for his thoughts to gravitate toward the worst. Especially when he notices Tommy's phone is on the bench, with the rest of the outgoing things, and with the notifications starting to pile up.

“...Tommy?”

“Evan?” comes Tommy's voice from the other room. It's sort of… weak, and strangled-sounding. “'m not going to make it tonight, I'm sorry. I'm kinda – indisposed.”

Just like last time, when Buck had found him hiding out in his basement blasting High Voltage to drown out the fireworks, the truth is somewhere in the middle.

He hears the dull thud of plastic on porcelain, and follows it to Tommy's ensuite bathroom, where the man himself is curled up looking not unlike death warmed up. The room is too small for him to comfortably fit like this, so his limbs are a tangle and he looks all the more miserable for it.

“You look terrible,” Buck says.

“Yeah?” Tommy gives a weak chuckle. “Pretty sure I feel worse. I don't know if it was Lyndon's eggs, or the cruise ship we helped out the other day, but something evil is happening inside me.”

“You didn't want to call?”

“Didn't want to move,” Tommy corrects, but he can spare a little smile. “I figured you'd come for me soon enough.”

Buck dives forward to help, and Tommy gags.

“No. Get that away from me.”

Buck has forgotten, until this moment, that he's still carrying the sandwich. All that meat and cheese and rich, delicious sauce – it must turn the stomach at a time like this, and he can't do that to Tommy's favourite restaurant. He runs back out to the kitchen, puts it in the fridge, and exchanges it for a bottle of water. Tommy moans in agony, relief and gratitude as he takes it, and presses the bottle to his forehead for a moment.

“Oh, sweet cold.” He sings its praises, before screwing the lid off and taking a hesitant, fragile sip. “Thank God, Evan. You're the best.”

His hand shakes on the bottle, fever and exhaustion leaking free, and Buck hates the crease it puts between Tommy's brows. The man still hates being vulnerable, it's like jumping in a vat of hot water for him, and in a weird way, Buck gets that. Not everybody was raised to get attention by any means necessary. Guys like Tommy, like Eddie, even Bobby, they were more and more ignored the more they cried out until they stopped crying, and that only makes Buck want to glom himself all over them and scream until he knows that they know that he loves them. Of course, they'd hate that. But he wants it nonetheless.

“You can-”

“I'm not going to dinner,” Buck insists. “Hand me that washcloth.”

“Evan,” Tommy groans, and he can't exactly say 'I'm fine,' so instead he says, “it'll pass.”

He hands over the washcloth nonetheless, and Buck navigates his way across the very Tommy-filled bathroom and runs it under the tap. Then he lowers himself into the crook between the toilet and the bench as best he can, and dabs at the clammy sweat on Tommy's forehead. Slowly, slowly, the tension fades from Tommy's brow, from his shoulders, from his whole frame as he surrenders. He folds drowsily into Buck's lap, and Buck wipes the cool cloth everywhere he can reach: over his face; down his neck; he helps take the uncooperative dress shirt off and runs it over his chest for good measure. He even strokes Tommy's hair, which has no medicinal value whatsover, but if he had to defend the decision, he's sure he could drum up something about the power of stress reduction on healing. It's just like meditation, really.

(And like screaming, I love you, in a way Tommy might just be able to hear it).

-

Tommy lets the gentle rhythm of Evan's fingers through his hair soothe him. As trivial as a bit of potential food poisoning might be in the grand scheme of their lives, maybe it's good practice: he's still getting used to the idea of somebody being there for him through things he would normally be soldiering through on his own. He's grown enough to try, at least; the drawbridge may be rusty, but he's doing his best to let it down, and he likes it. He really likes it, actually, even if the excuse of illness makes it a little easier to embrace. Evan's hands are gentle and steady and patient, and it makes him feel light, and the tiles around him are clouds, and Tommy imagines dreamily that he could drift off to sleep right here. He doesn't even notice his eyelids have fallen closed, until a soft kiss is pressed to one of them. He really likes that too.

“What do you think,” Buck asks, after a moment. “Are you – uh, finished here?”

“Hope so,” Tommy murmurs.

“Then... can we please get up before I lose circulation to my ass?”

Tommy laughs. He might be in the clouds, but his boyfriend is not so blessed by the delirium of fever and exhaustion. He's loathe to think what sort of contortions poor Evan has had to work himself into to fit, beside Tommy no less, on the not overly generous bathroom floor. So Tommy braces himself for a freshly angry stomach, and sits.

He lets himself lean on his boyfriend and they struggle to a stand and then stagger into the bedroom together. Evan brooks no argument as he gently but firmly tucks Tommy under the covers and leaves him there a moment to bustle around. He knows the place well enough now, to go and find towels and a bucket from the laundry and Tommy's phone charger and set up a little sick station for him by the bedside. He even brings a fresh pyjama shirt, but doesn't put it on him; just leaves it nearby, easily reachable for later, when the fever breaks and he realises how cold being half naked and slightly wet actually is in this weather. Tommy doesn't know where Evan picked up these little things; maybe from Maddie, who looks after him even now, or maybe from taking care of Christopher. Maybe something about it is just in him, in his drive to care for the people he loves so much that of course he would think of that. Tommy's always loved that about him.

He loves that Evan never backs down; whether it's in the field or here, in the bedroom, bringing in a laptop and depositing himself, gently but firmly, under the covers like it's a promise not to leave. He pulls Tommy against him, encouraging him to tuck into his side, and Tommy can hardly argue with that, even if the firm line of Evan's lips looks like he expects that he might.

Evan looks down at drowsy Tommy with fondness in his gaze. His finger traces a soft, meaningless like on Tommy's back and his lips quirk into a smile.

“So,” he proposes. “Notting Hill or Love, Actually?”

[skyward-floored]

Well I have been unmasked as an enjoyer of IAU/DIAU. Not that I was trying to hide it. XD

If you'd like a little prompty ask, maybe consider an extra villain/hero posted outside the Forester residence as the whole Arrest Thing goes down, watching, waiting to see if anyone emerges.

XD Hey I'm really flattered you like them!! It means a lot, especially since this au is... a little complicated by merit of it being several alternate universes in haha. I tweaked your prompt a little, and my allergies and/or cold is hitting hard today, but I hope you enjoy regardless XD

...

It had been fifteen minutes since he'd heard any noise.

Yuga blew out a breath through his nose, tapping his foot impatiently. He'd wanted to keep an eye on this mission, not be assigned directly to it, but here he was, waiting for the squad to come out with the targets in hand. Apparently this was something of a big deal, and Dark had insisted on him being here.

Yuga didn’t really care. Dark had his agenda, and Yuga had his.

Admittedly though, a part of him was eagerly anticipating getting to see that idiot teenager Ravio be dragged out, maybe even begging for mercy and apologizing for ever daring to work under his nose. But he'd wanted to do it from the comfort of his office. Not... here.

Yuga wrinkled his nose as he glanced around the neighborhood again, the drab domesticity of it making his gorge rise. There was certainly no beauty to be found here. Well, apart from his own, anyway.

At least he was just here to monitor the situation. He wouldn't have to get his hands dirty, though he was technically prepared to do so if the situation arose. He'd rather prefer not to though.

"Sir?"

Yuga whirled around, one of the soldiers that had been sent inside having come up on him without his notice. "What is it?" he snapped, and the man swallowed, trying to surreptitiously wipe some dirt off his uniform.

"We've successfully arrested Malon Lon Forester, code identifier "Malanya". Cryonis has secured her," he reported.

"Is that all?" Yuga sniffed suspiciously, and the man shuffled his feet, looking awkward.

"No, sir. The uh, other targets are... currently unreachable."

"What?" Yuga hissed, and the man shrank back.

"W-well sir, the targets escaped down to the basement area, but a stray shot from Cryonis blocked off the door... we have no way of entering the area until the ice melts," he admitted, and Yuga gripped his hands into fists so tight that he was sure they left marks on his palms.

"Well then why aren't you calling HQ and requesting someone with fire powers?" Yuga growled, his eye twitching.

"B-because, uh... we got the prisoner to reveal that there's a secret exit, and the targets are likely nowhere near here by now?" he squeaked.

"YOU COULDN'T HAVE LED WITH THAT?!" Yuga roared, and the man squeaked again, fumbling with his weapon. "GO CALL IN A PYROKINETIC! I WANT THEM FOUND!"

"Yes sir!" the man said with a yelp, and scurried away, leaving Yuga to fume at the news that Ravio had escaped him again.

That child... that idiot, tacky-clothed child... had somehow gotten away?

Yuga shook in place, so mad he almost considered going after the soldier and firing him on the spot, but then the main group came out of the house, and he turned his ire on them instead.

"Cryonis!" he snarled, and stomped his way over to the man. He had blood running from his nose and his hair was far from the neat style it usually rested in, but Yuga for once didn't care. "You lost us more than half of our targets! You couldn't even capture a couple of children?"

"I can't control everything that happens in battle," Cryonis said in a somewhat stuffed-sounding voice, giving him a cool look. The prisoner glanced between them, and Yuga noted that despite the blood and mess on her face, at least she had some beauty to her. "I got one of our two main targets. Ravio and the other children were second priority, and the healer wasn't even here."

"It was still your fault they got away," Yuga said in a low voice, and leaned in close to his face. "I will be reporting this to your superior."

Cryonis shrugged, looking exhausted. "I wouldn't expect anything less."

Yuga glared at him, but Cryonis returned his attention to their single prisoner, taking her by the arm and forcing her away from the house. Yuga watched them go with narrowed eyes, still furious at the less-than desirable results they'd ended up with, and then strutted away towards the building.

Idiot super. It seemed like Cryonis especially was making more and more mistakes like that. At least he’d managed to do one thing right, even if it wasn’t the one Yuga wanted done.

He huffed as he strode through the ruined door, his boots crunching across broken glass. If it came to it, he’d chip that ice away himself.

He wasn’t letting that brat get away from him again.

[origamiplushie]

Dustin's really going through it

Read on AO3. Inspired by this tumblr post.

It is an ordinary Friday like any other. The party is once again gathered in the Wheeler’s basement. They’re just having a normal sleepover not playing DND so even Max has elected to join them. They have a pile of snacks and soft drinks, they’ve picked out some movies to watch later and right now they’ve given in to stereotype and are playing truth or dare.

So far Max has admitted to shoplifting (multiple times) (with very little shame), Will has demonstrated that he can do a handstand but only hold it for about 20 seconds, Lucas has been forced to chug a shaken bottle of coke and spent a tense fifteen minutes doing his best not to throw up and Dustin has confessed that he once destroyed a sweater his mom bought him and blamed it on Mews just so she couldn’t force him to ever wear him to wear it again. 

Dustin spins the bottle and watches it slow down to land on Mike. He dramatically pretends to contemplate his choices for a moment before turning towards Mike and asking with a sly grin: “What is the most embarrassing crush you’ve ever had?”

Mike sputters angrily. 

“None of your business!”

Dustin immediately shoots back with: “Actually we’re playing truth or dare so right now it is very much our business.”

“Shut up, I’m not telling you guys!”

“Come on dude, you forced me to show you pictures of the sweater! Fair’s fair!”

Will tries to goad Mike into telling them.

“Come on, Mike, it can’t be that bad?”

Max snorts and says: “Or at least not worse than Dustin in that puke coloured sweater.”

“Just rip off the bandaid and tell us already!”

“It’s Steve! It’s Steve, alright?” Mike finally exclaims. Immediately after that he slamms his face into his hands.

A moment of shocked silence follows.

And then Max starts laughing.

Seeing as Mike is clearly mortified, El leans over to pat him on his back.

“Steve is very handsome. And he is nice. I do not think he is an embarrassing boy to crush on,” she said.

Lucas decides to also try and reassure his friend.

“I mean, if I wasn’t dating Max and if I liked guys, I would probably also have a crush on Steve. He’s just like the whole package - he's athletic and charismatic and super supportive and a good listener, you know?”

Now Max, still laughing under her breath, adds: “Not just charismatic and nice, he’s hot! Have you seen him shirtless at the pool?”

Will, who so far had been struck speechless, turns entirely red in the face as he shyly nods and says: “I personally like watching when he plays basketball with Lucas.”

Mike looks like he feels a bit better and even dares to peek at the rest of the room through his fingers.

“For real?” 

Lucas nods enthusiastically.

“Yeah dude, Steve’s a nice guy. Half the school probably has a crush on him.” 

Mike isn’t hiding his face anymore but Dustin seems disturbed by the entire conversation.

“Nononono, fucking ew!Steve isn’t… hot. He’s a fucking doofus and a dork!”

They’re all laughing at Dustin’s distressed face now.

“You’re just mad your friends like your “older brother”,” Max chimes up.

Mike is confident enough by now to speak.

“Now you know how I felt when you were crushing on Nancy!”

After that all of Dustin’s protests are ignored as the group trades stories of Steve as well as their other crushes. Meanwhile Dustin tries to smother himself with a pillow and does his best to tune the whole conversation out.

—

Dustin doesn’t even give Eddie the chance to get out of the car and wave before he’s already throwing his bag in the back, sitting in and slamming the door closed.

“Soo… going out on a limb here, I’m guessing the sleepover didn’t go well?” Eddie says backing out of the Wheeler’s driveway.

“No! It didn’t! They all spent the whole evening basically gossiping and talking about some… dumb shit! We never even got to watching “Highlander”! It's new enough that it's still under the two day rental policy! And Steve said he’s not going to waive any more of my late fees! So I guess I’m going to have to drop this off today too. And when Steve asks ‘Oh Dustin, how was the movie? Were the swordfights as awesome as they looked on the box?’ I’m going to have to say ‘Well Steve, I never actually got to find out!’”

Dustin grosses his arms with a huff and glares out the window.

“That sucks dude. Did you tell them you wanted to watch the movie?”

“Yes! But apparently Mrs. Flemings is right when she complains that teens these days have no appreciation for art and culture!”

Eddie glances at Dustin sitting sullenly in the passenger seat and offers with a wink: “How about this? I’ll drive us to Family Video, rent the movie under my account after you’ve returned it and then we can hang out at my pace and watch it together. Then tomorrow you can tell the others how cool it was and what they were all missing out on by ignoring you.”

Dustin immediately brightens up.

“Really? Thanks, Eddie, you’re the best!”

“And hey, if we’re hanging out all day anyway, you might as well pick out another movie to watch as well. I don’t know about you but I don’t have any other plans for today.”

—

Dustin rushes to browse the shelves and pick a second movie while Eddie waits at the counter with the “Highlander” tape. 

He personally prefers sci-fi above all but he knows Eddie likes horror movies, so it might be nice to go with something Eddie liked as a gesture of appreciation. He considers his options for a while. Finally, “Star Trek” is put back on the shelf and Dustin turns towards the counter with the “Shining”. 

And then he stops.

Steve is leaning on his forearms against the counter.

Eddie is leaning forward as well, a strand of hair pulled in front of his face.

The two of them and Christopher Lambert staring up at them from the VHS case form a little triangle. They seem utterly oblivious to the rest of the world.

Eddie is definitely blushing.

Dustin takes a deep breath.

Steve and Eddie are reminded real quick that they are not alone in the universe when he starts yelling.

[adaptacy]

Since you’re looking for leland requests, not sure if you’d be into this but a role reversal sort of thing where leland is the psycho killer cannibal hunting reader? 😗 or vice versa

ok so y'all just want johnny but in the leland font and-

actually. im here for it. deadly cowboys ;)

"Come on out, sweetheart. I'll make it quick."

Whether that was a promise of mercy or a threat of death, you weren't sure. His voice was low, like he didn't want to alert anyone but you of his presence. His 'friends'- the other crazed killers were dealing with the other victims, none of which you were familiar with. And you'd been left with the most intimidating one.

He was definitely the largest one of the group, and while he wasn't the most agile, he was far from clumsy. He didn't threaten you or tease you like the rest of them did. Just followed where you went.

From what you'd seen, he was likely the gentlest out of the entire group. Not that that was saying much- They were all psychos, and you'd seen some grizzly scenes in your attempt to navigate out of the basement you'd woken up in. Still, he wasn't as aggressive as the others. Just was kinda... there.

And 'there' was approaching real quick. Your shaky hands had managed to snap the old rusted lockpick you'd scavenged, and you slipped into a crack in the wall, pressing your back against the wall to hide from him. There were footsteps, a quiet sigh, and then silence.

You did not like the idea of silence. He could be doing anything, and you were not going to stick around to find out what he was up to. So, you pushed your way through a door, heading back towards the house you'd escaped from in the hopes of throwing him for a loop.

However, the brunette wasn't clueless. You threw a glance over your shoulder, finding him tilting his head at you as you ran, but he didn't give chase. At least not at first. As if giving you a head start, he only began following you when you were a few yards away, but he was fast. Faster than you.

With a dissatisfied groan, you turned back around and tossed your shoulder into a gate, throwing it open as you stumbled, searching for some way out, some chance of escaping him, even if it was only for the time being.

Unfortunately, in your moment of deliberation, he'd managed to catch up to you, and you yelped as you felt something collide with your back, shoving you onto the floor with a surprising amount of force.

You were flipped onto your back to find the man above you, his knee on your thighs and his hands holding your arms against the ground. You squirmed, not that it did anything with how easily he overpowered you, earning a click of the man's tongue.

"Tried to tell you not to run. Better me than anyone else," he muttered, bringing your wrists together above your head so he could hold both of them in place with one hand.

"Get off of me! God, you fucking freak!" You yelled, catching the attention of one of the other cannibals, and she paused what she was doing, taking a few steps over towards the scene, her grin growing.

"Awh, Lee, you got one! I told you that she was gonna be trouble," the girl giggled, bending down and placing her palms on her knees, looking down at you with a terrifying passion in her eyes.

"Yeah, thanks, Jules. You can go. Don't want the others escaping," the man replied, dipping his head at the girl and earning a nod from her in response.

"What're you gonna do with her? Two of the others are already dead. I'm not sure how we're gonna be able to eat all of it," she sighed, standing up once more.

"I'll get 'em back down to the basement," he replied, taking his knee off of your legs. You attempted to kick up at him, but he blocked it with his arm, instead grabbing your waist and slinging you over his shoulder, your incessant wriggling and fighting doing very little to throw him off.

"Best be quick. One of 'em is bein' a little rat," the girl hummed, turning away and heading off in a different direction, likely to hunt the subject she was speaking of.

"I'm going to kill you, I swear it," you growled, slamming your fist into his back as hard as you could, but all he did was exert a small groan, followed up by a chuckle.

"I'm sure you think that, baby. Let's get you back in those ropes. No funny business this time. I'll make sure I'm the one to kill you. Make it nice and easy," he hummed, carrying you back towards where you'd just worked so hard to escape.

[babybatscreationsv2]

Neighborhood Entertainment

Marvel | Peter/Everybody

With little to do in suburbia, gatherings at the Stark household are a regular thing. The wives gather to gossip around plates of food while the husbands slip into the basement to catch the game. Or at least, that's what their wives think.

Rating: Explicit

Warnings and tags below

Warnings/tags: cheating, gangbang, phone sex, rough sex, double penetration, spit roasting

His phone lit up where it rested on the kitchen counter. Tony Stark with a groofy grin on his face under the too bright lights of the Vegas casino from his bachelor party greeted him. Steve swiped to answer the call and put the phone to his ear.

"Hey, Tony! What's up?"

"Stevie! Hope it's not too early for ya," Tony answered.

"Not at all. Me and the wife were just making breakfast." Steve smiled at Peggy as she looked over her shoulder at him. He inhaled the savory scent of thick cut bacon as she dropped it onto the hot pan.

"Perfect," Tony said. Steve frowned.

"Are you okay? You sound-" he stopped as he heard an unmistakable wet, gagging noise. Then a slurping sound.

"Hey Steve!" Peter's voice called, not far away, but not close enough to the phone either. Then the wet noises continued.

"H-hey, Pete..." Steve answered. He swallowed the flood of saliva in his mouth.

"Is everything okay?" Peggy asked.

"Yeah, of course." Steve gave her another smile. "Tony says Peter has a bit of a cold, that's all."

Tony snickered into the phone. "He certainly has something in his throat." He moaned luxuriously. Steve could just imagine them, Tony's hand combing through Peter's hair, but he never needed to pull the boy closer, not when Peter loved to gag on it. He bet his chin was soaked with spit and his back was arched and he's probably wearing nothing but Tony's T-shirt.

"Anyway," Tony sighed. "We called to invite you and the missus over this weekend. We're having one of our barbecues."

"We'll be there," Steve said quickly. Peter stopped his sucking to give a 'yay' only to get his mouth stuffed full again. Steve turned toward the kitchen counter to hide himself.

"Fantastic," Tony agreed. "Don't forget to bring a dish or at least something to throw on the grill."

"Who's grilling this time?"

"Oh, another barbecue?" Peggy asked. "That sounds lovely. The weather is supposed to be perfect this weekend."

"What did she say?" Tony asked, cruel little bastard that he was.

"She said the weather should be perfect," Steve said quickly. He tried not to flinch when his wife came closer. She brought her face right up to the phone.

"I can't wait to see you boys again! We'll bring that cod Peter liked the last time," she said.

Steve's heart beat in his ears. He assumed that was the reason the obscene noises stopped until he realized Tony must have noticed she was by the phone.

"That sounds great, Peg! I'll tell him."

"See you soon!"

"Can't wait!"

Peggy went back to the stove and Steve took a slow, deep breath. "You're grilling this time right?"

Tony laughed. "Yeah yeah, I've got these holes all to myself right now. Saturday, he's all yours."

Maybe it was wishful thinking, but he thought he heard Peter moan.

"Well, if that's all, we have preparations to make," Tony said coyly.

"Who else is coming?" Steve asked, refusing to let him hang up. Not while he could hear Peter's throat getting flossed. That boy was made for cock.

"Oh the usual gang. Bucky and Nat, Sam and Sharon. Happy said he might stop by."

"May's coming?"

"Definitely."

Steve closed his eyes and breathed through his nose. It was so much better when Peter's aunt was there. That wet squishing sound was already gonna make him come like a teenager. Thinking about Peter's mother figure in the next room was really making his head spin.

"Good boy," Tony purred. "You want Stevie to hear what a good job you do? What a good little cock sucker you are? Aw, that's so sweet, baby. He's looking at me with those eyes, Steve. He wants me to cum down his throat.

"Do it," Steve growled.

Tony chuckled. "Careful, big guy. You'll burn your flapjacks." Then he gasped and Steve knew too well what Tony sounds like when he cums. The way his breathing gets heavy, then stutters, that growling moan, and a sigh like he just sipped a cool drink on a hot day.

"What a good boy," Tony praised.

"Thank you, sir." Peter's voice, so ragged and cracking, the way he coughed a little after he spoke... Steve held it together but only just. He could wait for the weekend.

Peggy's hand touched his shoulder. Steve hoped he didn't look as horny as he really was as he looked at her. "Are you sure everything is okay?"

"Yeah," Steve smiled. "May's coming for the barbecue."

"Oh, that's wonderful!" She gave him a quick kiss that had him gripping the counter for support. He watched her turn away to tend to the bacon.

"Let me help you finish up. I'll just wash my hands." He hurried to the bathroom and turned on the sink. He splashed cold water on his face until his body cooled and dried off before returning to the kitchen.

Peggy stood there, arms crossed, watching him with a scowl.

"What's wrong?"

She pointed to the kitchen sink. "What's gotten into you this morning?"

Steve laughed. "Sorry, I'm just thinking about Peter's potato salad."

"I don't know what he does, but it's addictive isn't it?"

Steve grabbed the eggs from the fridge and joined his wife at the stove. He wrapped an arm around her waist and kissed her cheek, but in his mind he was replaying the phone call.

Smoke drifted up from the grill making the bright afternoon hazy. Tony picked up his tongs and turned over the chicken breasts, enjoying how they sizzled. He closed the grill and set the tongs aside just as two new faces came through the back fence.

"Hey! Steve, Peggy, you made it!" Tony greeted the couple. He crossed the grass to give Peggy a hug and Steve a firm pat on the shoulder.

"Thank you for inviting us," Peggy said politely. She offered him a plate wrapped in tin foil. Tony took it with a smile.

"Perfect! I'll pop this on the grill. It won't be long before we eat."

"I can't wait," Peggy said before interrupting herself. "Oh, Sharon and Natasha are already here!" She wandered away to join the other ladies as they sipped fresh lemonade under a canopy set up in the yard. A folding table was set up beneath, surrounded by chairs.

"Where's Peter?" Steve asked once she was gone.

"In between Bucky and Sam last I saw. Better go on before he gets tired."

Steve scoffed. "He's passed out before. He doesn't mind it."

Tony laughed. He started walking toward the house with Steve close to his side. "Are you kidding? We watch that one back all the time."

"You really gotta send me the footage."

"Nope. We've got one rule."

He opened the door to the basement. They passed the lounge where the TV blared the sports network in case the women came poking around. Through the door that only Tony had a key to, they found Peter.

His pretty little husband was caught in the middle of what looked like a fight to the death. Bucky pounded his ass, hands squeezing his thighs, pinning his legs to Bucky's chest. While Sam violated his throat, making it bulge big enough to be seen from the doorway. Peter's own dick was hard, but his orgasm was mercilessly trapped by the expertly tied rope that pulled his balls down and away from his body then came up to squeeze the base of his cock. His hands were pinned to the mattress beneath Sam's. The sounds he was making could make a monk cum in his robes. Tony was certainly struggling to hold it together, at least.

"Fuck," Steve swore.

Tony joined them on the bed. He pet Peter's chest, then he slid his hand down his belly, pressing down until he could feel Bucky's cock. Peter squealed, gurgling as he choked on Sam.

"That's my good boy," Tony cooed. "You're doing perfect, baby."

"One of you better move over," Steve snapped. He slipped off his belt and let it drop to the floor. He approached the bed, already taking himself out.

"Or what?" Bucky grinned. He stopped his furious fucking, to instead pound the boy with thrusts that shoved him up the bed and made him moan and grab at Sam's wrists for support.

"Move over," Steve growled.

"No fighting," Tony warned. "There's plenty of room for everybody. You two will just have to cuddle."

"Excuse me?" Steve snapped.

Bucky laughed. He bent Peter's knees to put his legs around him and leaned forward hands up by Peter's head.

"There's room for two."

"You sure?" Steve looked at Peter, then at Tony.

"Hey, Pete?" Sam let go of one of Peter's hands as he wiggled his fingers in answer. "Steve and Bucky want to DP you. How's that sound?" Peter gave a thumbs up.

Tony grinned. "See, he wants it."

"Hell," Steve swore. He climbed onto the bed behind Bucky, between both his and Peter's legs. He shoved Bucky forward to get better leverage, but he didn't complain. It took some maneuvering, but he had no trouble stuffing the head of his cock into Peter's already stuffed hole.

Peter whined beautifully, the sound growing whimpery like a puppy the more Steve pushed his way inside him. Sam stopped his throat fucking to let him breathe and to watch what Steve was doing.

"Fuck- shit," Peter gasped. Tony bent down and kissed his neck. "Please please please-" he started to beg.

"Not yet," Tony said. His hand stroked Peter's chest again. "Be a good toy."

Peter nodded weakly, voice gone like Steve was pushing into his throat. "Yes," he gasped.

"That's my good boy."

Steve reached around Bucky with one hand to hold Peter's hip. The other hand held Bucky's shoulder.

"You ready, sweetheart?" Bucky asked.

"Yeah, please," Peter gasped. He moaned as Steve started to move, the sound turning into pathetic whimpers and gasped pleas. He looked entirely lost and helpless, hanging limply off of both of their cocks.

"Better quiet him down before we're interrupted," Sam said. He stuffed Peter's mouth full of cock again while everyone laughed.

"I better check on the food," Tony said "I'll be back in a bit. Take care of my boy."

"Oh yeah, there's a barbecue happening," Bucky laughed.

"Won't be long before it's time to eat," Tony said from the doorway. He shut the door and locked it behind him. He checked to make sure he was presentable before heading back outside.

He took his place at the grill. The wives were still chatting away. Up until Sharon tapped his shoulder.

"Hey, we're out of lemonade. You don't mind if I run inside for a second do you?"

"Uh," Tony hesitated, thinking it through as fast as he could. "Why don't you man the grill and I'll grab it?"

"Sorry, but the last grill I touched burst into flames," she laughed.

Natasha stepped in behind him. "I've got it. Go get us drinks, big guy." He nudged him out of the way with her hip. Tony looked at her for a moment. He could see it in her eyes. That son of a bitch, what did Bucky tell her?

Tony went inside, admittedly sweating. He grabbed another cold pitcher of lemonade from the fridge, barely stopping to enjoy the sweet sounds coming from the basement. She wouldn't say anything to the others would she?

He went back outside and brought the pitcher to the table, beneath the shade of the canopy. "Pretty day, huh?" he said.

"It's beautiful," Peggy agreed.

"Thanks, Tony." Sharon poured herself another glass.

Tony went back to the grill. Natasha just smiled and shook her head. She patted his shoulder. "Boys will be boys, right?"

Tony raised his eyebrows, completely speechless.

"They're happy. They have good relationships." She pointed at the house. "That keeps them where I know where they are. They go anywhere else-" she snapped the tongs at Tony's crotch and he jumped. She laughed.

Tony swallowed. "Yes, ma'am."

"You're kinda cute when you're nervous."

"I'm flattered, but I'm married."

She laughed again. "Keep it that way."

She went back to the table, leaving Tony stunned. At least she knew her way around a grill.

It wasn't long before Bucky came outside. He stretched and breathed in the fresh air looking like he'd just left a spa. Nat gave him a kiss and pulled him down to sit beside her. He rested his arm along the back of her chair, the pair of them the portrait of a happy marriage. Sam followed right after, greeting the group with an 'evening ladies.'

Then Happy entered the gate. Tony took his plate of very much store bought cookies and set them with the rest of the food.

"Is May here, yet?" he asked, eyes searching the yard.

"Nope, you've still got time. Come on." Tony led him up to the house.

"Oh, good good. How's Peter?"

"He's great. He's really gotten into gardening lately."

"I noticed that!" Happy said as they entered the locked room. "Those tulips are stunning by the way," he said to Peter.

Peter smiled, looking up at him with head hanging off the bed. Steve was taking his time, riding his ass with deep, lazy thrusts.

Happy pulled his cock from his pants and joined the party. "Let's make it quick, kid. Your aunt's gonna be here any minute."

Peter opened his mouth and obediently sucked as Happy put his cock inside. He didn't have a lot of leverage, but he never lacked enthusiasm. Happy stood over him, letting Peter do the work, while he toyed with his nipples to make him whine, playing him like an instrument.

"God," Steve sighed.

"He's pretty isn't he?" Happy agreed. "Fuck, I never last long in this kid's mouth."

Peter reached up to play with Happy's balls, getting him worked up and on the edge in no time.

"He fucking squeezes when you pinch them like that," Steve groaned.

"Yeah, like this?" Happy pinched Peter's nipples until he whimpered. Steve moaned. "What a good boy. Let's get another load in you, kid. You know you need it."

Peter moaned. Steve fucked him faster, the week of build up finally catching him to him as he listened to suck that cock. He squeezed his waist, putting bruises above the ones Bucky had left on his nips, and came as deep as he could get, adding to the mess already inside him. He could see Peter's cock jump against his belly, desperately trying to cum with him. It almost had him going back for another round.

Happy took his cock from his mouth to jack off over his face. Peter laid still, mouth open and tongue out. He moaned along with Happy as he came all over his face. Then he sucked the tip clean for him.

"Good boy," Tony praised. "Get dressed, I'll grab the guys for the finale." He hurried back outside, eager to let go of what had been building since that morning. Especially since Peter spent the morning between his legs like the persuasive little brat he was. He just couldn't wait to have cock in his mouth even though he knew neither of them would be getting off for hours.

"Hey, fellas! The game's almost over!" He called to the group. They immediately disengaged from their wives and started up the lawn, making half baked excuses about not wanting to miss the final play. The women rolled their eyes and laughed fondly as they watched them go back inside the house.

Tony all but ran back inside. He unbuckled his belt and unzipped his pants, leaving both hanging. Everyone gathered around the bed and watched as Tony stuck his cock inside his husband, feeling the cum already inside him.

"Please," Peter moaned.

"Begging already, baby? You know you're not done yet." Tony fucked him hard and deep, lost in the perfect squeeze of his ass. Peter's cock was turning sore and red. He couldn't resist giving it a stroke. Peter screamed and clawed at the bed. Bucky was the quickest to jump forward and cover his mouth.

"Shh, sweetheart. They'll think we're torturing you."

"Might as well be," Steve said. "Look how much he loves it, though."

"He's such a good toy," Tony agreed. "Just a chew toy for all the men in the neighborhood, aren't you?"

Peter nodded. "Yes, sir."

"Good boy." Tony stroked his cock again, before beginning to unwrap him.

"Please please please," Peter gasped.

"Use your big boy words," Tony mocked. He pulled the rope free. It was a visible change as blood rushed to further fill out his election. It must have hurt.

"Please, sir," Peter moaned. "Please can I cum, can I cum for you sir, please-"

"Cum."

Bucky's hand nearly covered his whole face as it clamped around his mouth. The rest of the room clapped and cheered. Peter screamed, back arching, cum spraying like a hose, making a mess of himself from his head down to his thighs. And he kept cumming while Tony kept fucking him, far longer than it should be possible.

"That's our boy," Sam praised.

"Fuck, Peter. That was gorgeous," Steve said.

Bucky took his hand away. Peter's face was red and sweaty. He whimpered as Tony continued to fuck him. His hands searched the bed and ended up with one hand holding Tony's and the other holding Bucky's.

"He's already getting hard again," Happy commented.

Tony was beyond words, merely panting as he fucked him, chasing his orgasm while Peter mewled beneath him. He wrapped a hand around Peter's spent cock and found it still half swollen. Peter whined pitifully at the touch, it was clearly painful but no less pleasurable for it at this point.

"Please please please please," he begged again.

Tony waited until he was on the edge. "Cum," he growled, filling Peter's ass himself, cumming hard and so much that he felt the mixture of fluids squishing out onto his jeans. He swore and bent his head to give Peter a kiss as the boy tried to keep quiet and still helplessly whimpered. The room burst into further applause.

Everyone filtered out only for Steve to return a moment later. He cleared his throat.

"Hey, Pete. Your aunt's here," he announced.

Peter blinked at him with wet eyes. "Can you tell her I'm sick?"

Steve laughed. "No, I was thinking of telling her that her nephew got gangbanged by the whole town."

Peter narrowed his eyes. "Don't you upset May."

"He's just teasing," Tony laughed. "We'll have a quick shower and we'll be right out."

"You got it." Steve shut the door and left them alone.

Tony kissed him and held him in his arms. "How are you feeling?"

Peter smiled and rubbed his face against Tony's shirt. Tony feigned disgust.

"You're the cum bucket, not me," he complained.

Peter smiled. "You're gonna have to carry me. I don't think I can walk."