#there was a massive snowstorm

[shannoneichorn]

Ooh, now make other train routes cost less than airline tickets!

With the new structure, customers traveling from Philadelphia to New York can buy tickets starting at $19 if they choose the low-cost Value option or $21 if they want more flexibility. Previously a flexible ticket for the same trip would cost at least $128.A ticket to Boston from Philadelphia in coach could cost customers as low as $35 with thenew flexible option, whereas it used to cost $223.

FUCK YEAH TRAINS

TRAINS

TRAINS

[heckblade]

just know that spiritually, i am sending each and every one of you a massive, steaming bowl of this red curry noodle soup i just made

[himblebo]

Ooh a hands-going-numb anxiety attack we haven’t done one of those in a minute

[spineless-lobster]

Snowflakes on eyelashes snowflakes on eyelashes snowflakes on eyelashes snowflakes on eyelashes snowflakes on eyelashes snowflakes on eyelashes snowflakes on eyelashes snow-

[varjopeura]

.

[painfulgoodbye]

Hello again :)

What is something great that has happened to you this past week?

I know it’s only Thursday but I’ve had A week and thought it would be nice hearing some positive things :) 🧡

- 🌵

hello :) i hope you will have a great weekend ✨

one great thing that happened this week was that we had a first aid course at work today and it lasted for almost 5 hours so the day went by super fast and i didn't need to do much and now i can enjoy the weekend 💚

[blackmoldmp3]

scream???

[knittingriffin]

January 2023 - birthday gifts for my sister of her three pets. They are all in their "signature poses" and came out very cute

[eudaimaniacs]

Imagining Hugh fucking you in front of the fireplace after having an intense snowball fight earlier.

The only clothing item left on you is your socks. Both of you fucking each other on top of the massive fur rug. The material tickles you, but the sensual touch of Hugh's fingers exploring your body makes you shiver more. You hear the crackling of the fireplace as he enters you deeper. You moan at the feeling of Hugh's dick painting your walls.

"God, Hugh! Y-you're-you feel too, fuck, good!" You whined as you scratched his back. Hugh grunted and grabbed your hips to fuck you deeper. You screamed as you felt him hit that spot. Your vision went white as the immense pleasure kept building up.

You hugged your legs behind his back as Hugh leaned in to kiss your neck. Wanting to make out further, you grabbed his head and pressed your lips against his. Hugh moaned in agreement as he kept fucking while kissing you.

Out of breath, you broke the kiss and whimpered, "H-Hugh, I'm close! Oh god, I'm c-cumming!" He smirked, then threw your legs over his shoulders to penetrate you deeper. You held on to the rug as your orgasm came.

Hugh's thrusts falter as he fucks his warm cum inside you. Your stomach felt full, and as he pulled out, the white substance oozed out of your pussy. You two were gasping for air, tired yet satisfied with having sex.

Hugh grabbed the blanket near the couch and covered the both of you. You snuggled and rested your head on his chest. Hugh kissed your forehead and massaged your back. The sounds of the fireplace, as well as the heavy snowstorm outside, filled the cabin as the two of you hugged.

"Looks like we won't be having another snowball fight, huh?" You remarked and looked at the man next to you. Hugh gave you a quick kiss and squeezed your ass.

"That's sad to hear. I want to fuck you again after I defeat you," Hugh smirked as he got on top of again. You giggled as you felt his dick getting hard again.

The snowstorm made the two of you want warmth from each other, like the fireplace crackling. You smirk and ready yourself for the second round.

notes: a bit too early for a christmas imagine (my country celebrates it too early). anyways, i'm thinking of making a pedro pascal imagine anytime soon. i'm open to questions not requests so i can interact a bit here.

eudaimaniacs - 2024

[granonine]

Saturday Soliloquy: Waning Winter

This week, I have been very thankful to NOT be living in the Midwest as a huge winter storm dumped tons of snow all across the fruited plain. This is a photo from the Brainerd Daily Dispatch, Brainerd, Minnesota, where we lived for 11 years: And now that the snow has stopped falling, they’re having severe wind chill. Brrrrr. I do NOT miss that! We got wind and a spattering of rain here in my…

[hotreadingwitch]

Bucky x Reader - Cabin Fever

Content Warnings/Kinks: age gap (dbf!bucky), daddy kink, praise kink, light degradation, nipple play, light spanking, masturbation, fingering, cum swallowing, oral sex, unprotected vaginal sex

Cabin Fever

The weekend getaway ahead loomed before Y/n like a giant shadow as she drove on the snowy backroads. Was she glad to be spending the holidays at her father’s winter cabin, of course, but was she happy to see his mysterious (and massively sexy) best friend, Bucky Barnes, not so much. The pair had been colleagues for a little while now, since Bucky had transferred to her father’s firm, and Y/n had only met him once before at her Dad’s Fourth of July barbecue earlier in the year. Fireworks had immediately flown between them when they had, causing Y/n to lock down the blooming feeling of romance quickly before it could ruin everything from her father’s perspective of his “little girl” to her own sanity. If she thought for even one second about how much she liked Bucky Barnes and truly wanted Bucky Barnes, she feared she might just crash her car. 

A call came through the speaker of her vehicle then, her father Steve’s familiar voice crackling through, “Y/n?” 

“Dad?” She answered with a light laugh, “Where are you right now a dungeon? Your service is awful” 

“Sweetheart the snowstorm is blocking the highway, I won’t make it up to the cabin until morning, I’m gonna stay at a motel tonight…” he said, his voice sad like he hated to miss out, “It’ll just be you and Bucky for the first night, hopefully, that won't be too much trouble”

“Why would that be any trouble Dad?” Y/n’s voice sounded strained, even to her. 

Her father paused, “I know you don’t like him Y/n—no don’t interrupt me—it’s okay, you don’t have to, I just hope you two can get through the night together peacefully…it is the Holidays after all”

Y/n swallowed the lump in her throat, “Alright Dad, yeah, I’ll see you in the morning”

When she finally pulled up to the snow-trimmed cabin, she wasn’t surprised to see Bucky’s luxury car parked in one of the available driveway spots. 

“Hi,” she greeted once she stepped inside, her cheeks flushed from the crisp December cold and her arms full of wrapped gifts. 

“Let me help you with those” Bucky instantly offered, rushing over to her, their fingers brushing as he took some of the tissue-stuffed bags from her cramped hands and took them over to the tree. 

His eyes flicked to hers and she could’ve sworn she saw his own cheeks tint slightly red above his scruffy beard. 

“How was your drive?” He questioned after they’d arranged them, making easy conversation. 

“Not too bad, well better than Dad’s anyway” she winced slightly before breaking the news, “He’s blocked by the storm, won’t be here until tomorrow morning…it’s just us tonight” 

“You don’t seem so happy about that” Bucky cocked his head. 

“Bucky…” she hesitated. 

“I knew it” he breathed, almost to himself, “I knew you lik—“ 

“I need to take a work call” she blurted, interrupting whatever he was about to say. 

Y/n practically skidded out of the living room and down the hall to the room she’d be staying in for the weekend, that she’d been staying in all her life. Her Dad had luckily switched out her old twin bed for a queen a couple of years ago but that didn’t erase the memories she had here. The colourful quilt laid over the sheets, the rocking chair in the corner. Each element of the space was a comfort to her, especially now as her heart threatened to beat right out of her chest. 

“Fuck” she groaned to herself. 

~ an hour or two later ~ 

Snow was piling up outside as Y/n stewed in her bedroom, mulling over the situation she’d somehow found herself in. She liked Bucky and was stuck with him for the night but almost worse than that was the fact that he knew she liked him. Her groaning into her pillow was cut off by a small knock on her door. 

“Yes?” She croaked. 

“I’m making hot chocolate…” Bucky’s hesitant voice sounded through the wooden door, “I won’t bother you tonight if you don’t want but I just thought I’d ask” 

With a sigh, she walked over the door, opening it to find Bucky in a slightly distressed t-shirt and light grey sweatpants that hugged him perfectly in all the right places. She gulped, startled as she realized she was literally eye-fucking him instead of answering his innocent question. 

“Sure, I’d like some. Thank you” 

Following him into the kitchen, she found her gaze trailed from his toned figure to the wintery scene outside. The snow was packed almost halfway up the window, no doubt blocking the front door too. 

“Guess we’re stuck inside whether we like it or not” Y/n sighed with a small smile that she simply couldn’t help, causing Bucky to chuckle and shoot her a quizzical look. 

“Yeah” he replied easily, after pouring the hot liquid into two cups, “Here”

“Thank you, Bucky”

“Oh, no problem” he replied and Y/n swore she saw him blush again. 

They sipped on their hot chocolate, slowly draining the mugs in companionable silence. After a while, she attempted to break it. 

“How’s work?” she tried, grimacing at how awkward the question sounded. 

“You don’t really want to ask me about work Y/n” he stated plainly with a small sigh, the heated look in his eye deceivingly telling her exactly what he meant. 

“Bucky…” she strained, setting her mug down. 

“You keep saying my name but never in the way I’d like you to” he came toward her, his large frame instantly consuming the small space of the cabin’s kitchen, “I know you want me Y/n and I’m sure you can see I want you…” 

Her eyes flicked down to his crotch, a small moan slipping out of her mouth at the sight of his hard cock in his cozy sweatpants. 

“Stop worrying about what your Dad might do and kiss me” he challenged, putting it all out there. Her surprise must have been evident on her face because Bucky backed off immediately, “Unless that’s not what you want” 

His sweet hesitance was all it took for Y/n to practically throw herself at him, cutting his words off with a passionate kiss that melted instantly from incredibly heated to perfectly warm like their mugs of steaming hot chocolate. As they kissed, with Y/n’s small groans and whines puncturing each break, Bucky’s hands felt up and down her sides making her skin tingle with need.

“Can I touch you?” He asked before gripping her hips harder and backing her toward the counter’s edge, “And please say I can taste you…”

“Yes, please Bucky, yes” 

He lifted her easily onto the flat surface, shoving boxes of cereal and bags of marshmallows out of the way, until her ass was fully seated on the counter. She pushed herself up slightly so that he could slip off her pants and her panties, moaning as his cold hands slid down her thighs. He sunk to his knees before her, gazing up at her like she was a golden star on top of the Christmas Tree. His beard tickled her legs as he worked his way up, kissing her calf, the inside of her knee, and her inner thighs.

“Be good and spread your legs for me, yeah, let me see that pretty pussy” he hummed at the sight of her as she obeyed. 

He came forward and kissed her clit gently before rubbing the sensitive area with a single finger. He paused, looking up at her from his spot between her thighs, admiring her flushed cheeks and wide eyes. She whined at the loss of contact. 

“You know what I want Y/n?” he cocked his head, pulling away and sitting back on his tucked legs below her before saying in an encouraging yet dark tone, “I want to see you rub yourself for me…Go on”

She spit onto her fingers and began to rub her clit, using them to please herself. Her eyes met his as she caressed around and around her sensitivity, a quiet whimper slipping out of her lips at the sight of his darkening gaze focused all on her. The building feeling made her sigh and throw her head back, a dull thud sounding as it hit the upper cabinet behind her. 

“What if I help you out a little bit huh?” Bucky groaned as if he couldn’t resist touching her. 

“Yes” she moaned, “Bucky pleas—“ 

Her words were cut off by the feeling of his two longest fingers pressing at her wet hole. Her pussy practically gushed around him as he entered her, only pushing halfway. His teasing fingers grazed her insides, curling up inside of her. 

“Keep rubbing your clit baby” he guided her hand back down. 

She obeyed, quickly becoming overwhelmed with the pleasure they were creating for her together. His curling fingers, her fierce rubbing at her clit…she was overcome with intense sensation. Using her other hand she trailed up her chest, acutely aware of Bucky’s eyes following her motion, pinching her nipples in turn until they hardened into two stiff peaks. 

“Good girl” he praised before asking, “You want my mouth?” 

Her small nod was all he needed to push her hand off of her clit and lap harshly at it, never once removing his fingers from her hole. His attack on her pussy was intense and erotic to watch, the sight of him eating her out turning her on almost as much as the actual feelings. Y/n’s thighs caged his head between her legs, her knees moving to sit behind his head, feet resting on his back as he pleased her with his rough, wet tongue.

“Oh fuck” she whispered, her hands gripping his curls tightly as he found the perfect spot. 

“There?” he questioned, his words muffled as he sucked her clit, lapping at it. 

“Yes, fucking yes” 

He chuckled, cool air making her shiver before continuing, licking at the same spot, not right on her clit but slightly to the side, a spot that was nearly as sensitive and pleasurable, until her body gave out and she burst all over his tongue. His large hands supported her thighs from below, hooking his arms over them, pulling her pussy to his mouth as she rode out the waves of her release. 

“Good girl, good fucking girl” he grumbled. 

Moving quicker than a flash, he lifted her up and took her out of the kitchen, leading them all the way to her bedroom. As they moved through the house, Y/n attacked his neck, wet sloppy kisses peppering his tanned skin. He pushed the door to her room open with his side, being careful not to hurt her, before throwing her down on the bed. He stood at the edge, towering over her. Bending over her, his beard tickled her cheek as he continued his trail of kisses on her neck. With gentle pecks he made his way to her jaw, down her to her chest, satisfying the need of her nipples. 

“Flip around for me doll” he commanded then, praising her when she complied, “Yeah that’s it, good girl” 

SMACK. A small spank on her ass cheek made her whimper, the feeling hurting slightly but in the best way. 

“You want it?” Bucky asked, confirming her consent as he pumped himself behind her. 

“Yes,” she whimpered, her voice breathy and full of need. 

“Yes, who?” His tone instantly darkened. 

“Yes Daddy” she whispered like a secret. 

SMACK. 

“Say it like you mean it Y/n” he chuckled roughly, “Like the good little slut I know you are” 

“Yes Dadd—“ 

Her words were cut off by the loud moan that escaped her lips as Bucky pushed into her, pressing the first few inches of him into her wet pussy. She gripped him tightly as her body adjusted to the sensation. He pressed and pressed and pressed until finally, he bottomed out within her. 

“Fuck you fit me so well” 

Bucky’s cock hit a spot deep within her that felt like nothing she’d ever felt before. Her back arched, shoving her ass back into him, making him hit even further inside. His grin was feral as she bounced onto him, her instant rocking movements pleasuring them both. 

“So good Y/n,” he praised, grunting, “Yeah, push back on me baby…Fuck this ass is perfect”

SMACK. 

The pain heated her skin as did the feeling of his eyes on her. She wasn’t even looking at him but she could physically feel the weight of his dark gaze. Grinding back onto him she whimpered and whined, her pussy tightening around him more and more by the second. 

Y/n yelped as she was flipped easily over onto her back. Before she could even get her bearings, Bucky’s thumb was instantly on her clit, rubbing that spot that made her see stars. If she thought she was clenching around him before she surely was now. Between Bucky thrusting in and out of her and his fingers on her sensitive clit, her senses were going into overdrive. 

“Fuck” she whined, overwhelmed by the feeling, “You’re fucking me so good”

Burying his head in the crook of her neck, Bucky moaned roughly, his gruff noises making her wetter and wetter. She writhed beneath him, her body responding to every way he was pleasing her. As she approached her orgasm though, he switched his pace, thrusting slowly, powerfully, and deeply, causing her to tense up around his hard cock. She gripped him so tightly she thought she might just push him out of her by accident. 

“So tight for me—yes, taking every fucking inch like a good little slut” 

“Yes, Daddy, yes” she moaned as he sucked at her skin. 

“You’ve been driving me crazy for so long” he confessed, whispering in her ear, “Ever since—fuck— that fucking Fourth of July party, I’ve wanted to feel you, to be in you just like this…” 

Her eyes widened at his reveal but she was so overwhelmed by the feeling that she could barely speak, she simply whined in response, meeting his assessing gaze as she arched beneath him. The feeling struck her body then, causing her to jerk forward. Bucky held her hips, continuing to thrust in and out of her with long strokes, fucking her completely through her orgasm.

“Yeah that’s it baby, cum for me” 

Y/n gripped his broad shoulders, holding him to her chest as he thrust through her orgasm, bringing on his own. He ground into her as he chased his own release, her hot pussy finally sending him over the edge.

“Fuck” she swore, catching her breath as Bucky rolled off of her. 

“Fuck is right” he chuckled. 

She could swear she saw a tint of red on his scruffy cheeks.

“You really liked me since then? Since the Fourth of July?” 

“Yes,” he admitted, bowing his head. 

She rolled back onto him, planting a sweet kiss on his jaw, then his cheek, then finally on his perfect pout. 

“Talk about fireworks huh?” She joked, making them both shake with laughter. 

[ghost-in-the-hall]

Fall For Me (Poly! Sleep Token x Fem! Reader) - Pt. IX

Part 9 has finally arrived!!! This chapter we begin to move into winter as the first big snow storm of the year hits (really funny that I'm getting around to publishing this in the dead of the July heat lol). Everyone's finally starting to settle into the dynamic which will lead to some... Interesting interactions while the five of them are stuck in close quarters. I am still having issues with getting everyone tagged because Tumblr hates me, but if you would like to be added to the tag list please let me know! Thank you so much for reading!

WARNINGS: Some suggestive behavior

My Masterlist! ~ AO3 Link! ~ Tip Jar!

Part VIII - Part X

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Do you think the storm is going to be that bad?” Vessel asks. “It’s all we’ve been hearing about on the radio for the past few days.”

“It’s probably going to get pretty nasty. They’re expecting most of the town to lose power.” You bounce your leg nervously, watching him pause to go over his mental checklist in his head. “Would you, um… would you like to stay with me?”

He chuckles as he approaches the counter, “Scared of the big, bad snowstorm, lovey?” He teases with a smile.

“I’m not scared.” You snap back instantly, rolling your eyes. “It’s just,” Vessel didn’t miss the way the concern immediately crept back into your tone, “you’re so far out in the woods; what if something happens and no one can get out there to help.” His expression softens, reaching up to caress your cheek. You can't help but lean into his touch, his palm warm against your skin.

“If you’re more comfortable with us here, we’ll stay. Besides, do you really think I’m going to turn down a chance to spend more time with my girl?” Your cheeks grow warm as a flustered smile spreads across your lips. You still hadn't gotten used to Vessel so adamantly declaring you as his.

“Good,” you respond, trying your best to appear confident, “I need someone to keep me warm.” You smile coyly at him, making Vessel chuckle.

“Well, feeling bold today, are we beautiful?” His expression darkens slightly as a devious glint appears in his eyes. Your pulse immediately quickens as he offers you a sharp smile, his massive form towering over you, “You want to be in my arms, pretty girl?” He coos, making your face burn. He leans down, bringing his face in front of yours. “I'll hold you all night if that's what you want.” He whispers. He can't help but laugh slightly at your flustered expression, calling you cute as he straightens back up. “I'll be back in about an hour with the others. Let us take care of dinner tonight; you deserve to be spoiled for once.”

“Just be safe, okay? Everything always gets a little crazy around here on storm days.” He takes your hand, slowly bringing your knuckles to his lips.

“I'll be back before you know it.” He smiles sweetly. “Promise.”

While Vessel went to get the others, you took the time to make preparations. You were lucky enough to have the store beneath you; if you lost power, the fridges and your supply of ice would be sufficient to keep things cold for a while. You gathered all the candles and extra blankets from around your apartment, piling them up in one area with your other emergency supplies. You can’t help but smile when there’s a knock at your door. You squeal as III’s large hands wrap around your waist, lifting you effortlessly from the floor. “There she is!” He exclaims excitedly, spinning you around in a hug. You’re suddenly sandwiched between him and IV; you let out a pleased hum as III slots his lips against yours, IV peppering your face with kisses simultaneously.

IV nuzzles his face against yours as III pulls back. “We missed you, doll.” You spin around, slipping into IV’s arms, letting him hug you close as III starts bringing things into the kitchen. He sways you gently in his arms, taking a moment to memorize the feeling of you being pressed against him before pulling back. “I'm going to help the others set up.” He smiles, leaning down to kiss your forehead.

II pushes through the door, arms full of what appeared to be pillows, as he struggles to keep his grip on all of them. “Want some help with that?” You offer with a giggle.

“That'd be great, thanks.” He responds with a chuckle of his own. You smile coyly at him, your arms sliding over his shoulders as he saunters up to you. “And how are you doing today, beautiful?”

“Much better now that you're all here.” You respond softly.

He hums approvingly, “That’s what I like to hear.” He trails a finger along your jaw, carefully tilting your chin until he can easily kiss you. Even the gentlest kisses from II always managed to take your breath away, and now was no different. “You just hang back and relax, love. Let us handle everything.”

Your heart always felt so full whenever all five of you were together. You would never get sick of how lively the group of them made you and your home feel. “Here you go.” You smile as IV slips a glass of wine into your hand, collapsing onto the couch at your side. Vessel, II, and III were currently bickering over something in the kitchen, leaving the two of you alone for what felt like the first time in forever. “I have something for you.” He states softly. He takes your hand, rummaging around in his bag with the other until he produces a small, brown leather notebook. “Here.” He offers it to you; you can't help but smile at the gift.

“What's this?” You ask curiously. You open to the first page, and IV’s messy script is the first thing you see. ‘For my favorite girl, hopefully, this makes up for all the times I should have bought you flowers.’ You flip to the second page to find a perfectly preserved pressed flower. A bright orange bloom sat atop a stem of tiny green leaves; the date IV must have picked it, and the flower's name should have been written in the upper right corner. The rest of the book followed a similar pattern. A collection of vibrant reds, purples, and golds filled the rest of the pages. You could tell how carefully every flower was handled just by how it was presented to you on the page.

“Whenever I find a flower I think you'd like, I press it in a book. That way, you can keep them forever without them wilting.” The gesture was so sweet you blinked rapidly to clear the tears from your eyes.

“Thank you, IV, this is incredible.” You set the book carefully down on the table, reaching out and pulling him into your arms. He wasted no time melting into you, his arms circling your waist as he returned your embrace.

“You make me really happy, you know that?” You smile, burying your face into the crook of his neck.

“So do you.” You both reluctantly separate from each other. You rest a hand on IV’s cheek, smiling softly at him as you study how his features curve under the fabric of his mask. You carefully take his face in your hands, guiding him forward to kiss his forehead. He smiles, letting out a deep breath he hadn't realized he was holding.

“Dinner’s ready!” You both jump as you hear Vessel call from the kitchen. He stands, helping you from the couch. IV pulls you into his side, pressing a kiss to the top of your head.

“Let's go before it's all gone.” He chuckles

You stood at III’s side, helping him clean up after dinner. “That food was amazing.” You remark, making him chuckle.

“I try my best.” He responds humbly. “Working with whatever we can grow or hunt, I want to ensure it, at least, tastes good.” You finish drying off the wine glass you had been using earlier, pushing yourself up on your toes to struggle to reach the top shelf. III chuckles; you freeze as you feel the warmth of his body creep up your back, nearly making you drop the glass in the process. “Need some help, love?” He whispers, making you shiver. His long arms can easily reach up to set the glass back in its spot. His hands find their way to your waist, lifting you from the floor to put you on the counter easily. “I can finish up here; you can just relax.” He chuckles as you pout in response.

“You cooked dinner; the least I could do is help with the dishes,” you protest. He places his hands on either side of your waist as he leans closer.

“I think the least you could do is let someone take care of you for a change.” He whispers, making your cheeks grow warm. He studies you, a playful expression growing on his face as he realizes your flustered state. His hands leave the counter, massaging your plush thighs before they slide to your back, pulling you closer to him. You felt so small in his hands, but he still easily towered over you from your position on the counter. He ran his hands soothingly up and down your sides. You forced yourself to stifle the soft whine that threatened to leave you at the feeling of his strong hands against your body. “You're always so worried about taking care of everyone else. When was the last time someone did the same for you?”

Your heart slammed against your ribcage, your thoughts growing fuzzy as you began to feel like putty under III’s touch. “But–” he hushes you softly as you start to argue.

“You deserve to be spoiled.” He says softly, lifting his mask enough to kiss you. “I want to make sure that you are.” You let out a pleased sound as he pushes into you. Your hands roam over his chest; you groan at the feeling of his muscles tensing under your palm. This kiss with III felt different than the others you had shared. This one was noticeably more intense and needy than when you kissed him. His fingers massaged into your muscles as he desperately sought to have you any closer to him than you already were. His breathing was heavy when the two of you finally separated; you could feel the way his hands trembled slightly against your skin.

“What's wrong?” Worry is immediately prominent in your tone.

“Nothing, doll.” He responds gruffly. “It's just if I keep kissing you like that–” he trails off with a chuckle.

“Too bad it's not just the two of us.” You respond under your breath. III’s gaze snaps to you, unsure if he had heard you correctly or not at first. You glance up at him through your lashes, and III could have sworn in that moment his heart stopped. You lean up, placing a gentle kiss on his clothed lips. “Hopefully, that’s not the last time you kiss me like that.”

“Trust me, you don't have to worry about that.” He smiles in response.

“Are you two done in there or what?” You hear II call, “Did we really have that many dishes?”

You giggle, “We should get back to the others.” He chuckles, nodding his agreement.

You found yourself seated in Vessel’s lap; your legs stretched over IV’s legs as he held your hand, your feet resting comfortably in III’s lap as he made easy work of massaging away all the tension in your muscles. II sat on the floor in front of the couch, holding your free hand in his own and bringing your knuckles to his lips every so often. You had thrown on a movie, some mindless holiday comedy that everyone seemed content with. You leaned into Vessel’s chest, letting your head fall against his shoulder. He smiles at you, carefully reaching up to tuck some hair behind your ear. “You less nervous now, love?” He asks softly.

“How could I be nervous? I have all of you within arms reach.” You giggle. He hugs you close, the two of you enjoying the chance to be so close to each other. Just as your eyes grew heavy, your apartment was plunged into complete darkness. “Shit.” You curse, attempting to hurry out of Vessel’s lap; you pause when he gently squeezes your hip.

“II.” He states simply.

“On it.” Before you could ask what was happening, a match was struck to life. But all the candles were on the other side of the apartment; there was no way he could have gotten over there–

“I'll get the stove started.” III stands, placing your feet in IV’s lap. “These two better do a good job of keeping you warm.” He chuckles, quickly pressing a kiss to the top of your head as he passes by.

You didn't have to lift a finger. Before you knew it, the wood stove was warming the living room, candles casting a soft orange glow over the entire space, and a mug of tea warming your hands as you sat sandwiched between IV and II on the couch. The night sped by as you found yourself playing card games, laughing to the point your sides hurt as you witnessed them bicker and repeatedly get caught trying to cheat. “I'm not counting cards!” II protests.

“You absolutely are!” III argues, “Don't think I can't see you counting on your hands!” II opens his mouth to respond, only for III to cut him off, “Disqualified! You are disqualified!” II groans, admitting defeat as he throws his cards on the table.

Vessel wraps an arm around your shoulders, pulling you into his side. “You're looking a little tired, love.” You couldn't even attempt to argue as a yawn forces its way past your lips. “Let's call it a night.” He announced, helping you from the floor. “Goodnight.” Vessel leans down, pressing a kiss to your cheek.

“Goodnight, Ves.” You smile, slipping into his arms for one final hug. You exchange your good nights with the others, reluctant to leave them even though you would only be in the next room. You could hear them all get settled as you lay in bed, your apartment eventually becoming deathly quiet once again. You lay there for what felt like hours, and it had only been about 20 minutes when you checked the time. You sigh, sitting up in bed. You stare at the door, debating whether any of them were still up. You toss back your covers and leave your bed, wincing slightly as the floorboards creak beneath your feet. You carefully crack open your bedroom door, glancing into the living room only to find Vessel still awake, reading a book under the low candlelight. “Everything alright, love?” He asks quietly. It took you a moment to respond, surprised that he realized you were there.

“I just can’t sleep.” You admit sheepishly, opening the door just wide enough to reveal yourself. He closes the book he was reading, setting it on the end table behind him.

“Come here, sweetheart.” He beckons you closer with a nod of his head. You carefully maneuver around the others, who had found a comfortable spot on the floor for the night. Vessel opens his arms for you, allowing you to crawl into his warm embrace. You cuddled into his chest, the heavy weight of his arms around your waist immediately lulling you into a new state of comfort as you melted into him. He tilts his head back; you swallow thickly as you realize just how nice it would feel to have your lips trail along the skin of his neck. You quickly shook the thought from your mind as he blew out the candle. “What’s troubling that pretty little head of yours, hm?” He purrs. You were finding it hard to concentrate. Vessel’s body was so warm every ache in your muscles simply seemed to vanish as you allowed your fingers to trail over his bare skin. He smelled of damp earth, musky incense, and the subtle sweetness of freshly cut flowers.

“Can I ask you something?” You whisper, looking up at him despite the fact you could barely make out the outline of his face.

“Of course.” He responds in the same quiet tone. He adjusts his position, hoisting you up higher on his chest to bring your face closer to his. “You can ask me anything you like, love.”

You could feel his lips brush against yours as he spoke; the feeling was enough to send a shiver up your spine. “Do you think about me?”

“Love, the image of you never leaves my mind.” You can’t help but smile at his response. “I can’t even begin to describe how special you are to me.” He carefully cups your cheek in his hand, his thumb trailing across your jaw. “I must not be doing a very good job as your boyfriend.” He jokes with a chuckle. “There’s got to be some way for me to prove how crazy I am about you.” The edge of his mask bumps against your cheek as he pushes it off his face. His hand carefully cradled your head, guiding your lips down to meet his. You could feel his heartbeat racing under your palm. He kissed you hesitantly at first, his whole body rigid as he waited to see how you would respond to such a bold gesture from him. He had kept you at arm’s length since he met you, not because he didn’t care about you. It was the exact opposite. If he wasn’t careful, Vessel felt he could easily find himself becoming infatuated with you, something that could cost him dearly if you ended up stabbing him in the back like so many others had in the past. Yet, over the time he had known you and the short time you had been together as partners, your affection for him never wavered. Goosebumps erupted across your skin as Vessel slid a hand under your shirt, his tough, calloused hands rough against your back. “There isn’t a second that passes by where I’m not thinking of you; the sound of your laugh, the way you smile, the way you seem to fit so perfectly in my arms; I am always thinking about you.” He confesses breathlessly against your lips. You let out a soft hum of approval as he crushes his lips against yours again, struggling to stay quiet but not wanting to risk waking the others. You felt like you would die if Vessel stopped kissing you. He groans at the feeling of your hands timidly wandering his body, shaky fingers tracing along the outlines of his muscles as your lips melded perfectly to his. He kissed you until there was physically no air left in his lungs. You struggle to steady your rapidly pounding heart. You rest your hand on the side of his face, gently trailing along the peak of his cheekbone. He caught your hand in his, startling you slightly at the abruptness. He brings your knuckles to his lips. “No matter how much I would like to keep kissing you, you should probably get some rest, love.” He says with a chuckle.

“Now, how is that fair?” You ask coyly, “You make me wait all this time to kiss you, and I only get to do it once?” He tilts your chin up with his thumb. You could feel him smile against your lips. “I’ll make it up to you, I promise.” Your eyes flutter shut as you’re met with another euphoric kiss, “but you have to get some sleep.” You grumble out your reluctant agreement, placing one final chaste kiss on his lips before settling against his chest, your eyes feeling heavy as your adrenaline wears off.

You’re woken up the following morning by a knock at the door. You sit up, wiping away the sleep in your eyes as you try to make sense of your situation. You had fallen asleep in the living room last night after coming to see Vessel; you remembered that much. All four of them were already awake and much more alert than you were at the sudden disturbance. “Relax, I’m sure it’s just the plow guy or something.” You reassure them. You stand, shivering as all the warmth is rapidly stolen from your body. You unlocked your door, opening it just enough to peer outside. Your stomach dropped at seeing the police officer on the other side.

He greets you with a familiar smile, “Got a second to talk?”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Tag List can now be found in the comments!

[e-louise-bates]

Editing project is FINISHED and returned to client! I got almost everything at work under control yesterday and will finish it up tomorrow! House is still slightly a disaster but getting better, and my parents are getting here this evening so my mom will almost certainly help with things like laundry and tidying while I'm at work tomorrow! One kid is almost all packed and knows exactly what else needs to be packed! (the other is still waffling about everything, but I'm hoping my mother can help her with that this evening or tomorrow evening as well--she has violin this afternoon and dance tomorrow afternoon so her window is getting narrower) Easter events at church and dinner at home are complete!

I even filled the car with gas this morning during an editing break, and got groceries for airplane snacks yesterday right before supper. Somehow or other, it's all going to be fine.

Now we just need the weather to cooperate so we can actually get to the airport.

At that stage of vacation prep where it feels like more work than it is worth to make sure everything is in order for us to go away. This is made more complicated than usual by the fact that my usual backup at work is on an unplanned leave of absence due to personal reasons, so instead of leaving work to him I'm trying to figure out what the pastor can handle without adding too much to his already back-breaking load (one of my main responsibilities at work is taking burdens OFF his shoulders, not putting them on), and what can be safely left until I get back.

I keep reminding myself that two weeks in England, with my husband, my kids, and my parents, will absolutely be worth all this.

But in the meantime, I'm running around like a chicken with my head cut off trying to get my client's editing project finished AND get everything at the office organized for me being gone AND make sure the house is in order AND that we have everything we need to pack AND prepare for this weekend's Easter events at church and dinner at home ...

Deep breath. All shall be well, and all shall be well, and all manner of thing shall be well.

(You would not believe how many times the pastor and I have said that to each other this month. It's been a painful season.)

[redheadspark]

hi!!! hope you're doing great. i was wondering if I could get Azriel from acotar with #15. thanks!!

A/N - This is beyond cute for Azriel, I hope you like it, anon!

Mattered

Summary - Azriel drinks in the morning while thinking of the peace in his life

Warnings - Just fluff

Azriel blinked awake, and the last bit of his dream escaped from him life fog through his fingers.

The dream seemed so real to him, not a nightmare but a dream.  He dreamt of his mother, her long black hair that was always braided or in her face to frame her eyes.  He remembered her smile, how big it was, and how it would lift his spirits.  But even before he could utter a word, he was awake.

And she was gone.

The fireplace licked to life from the moment he took in a deep breath, instantly filling the room with warmth since it was a pinch too cold for Azriel’s liking.  The room was still dark, the wallpaper and dark furniture keeping the room dark and dim as dark clouds still roamed over the sky at the House of Wind.  He breathed in slowly, stretching a bit before realizing he was not alone in the massive bed.  Looking to his left, he noticed you, his mate of over 400 years, curled up against a massive body pillow that you love to use every once in a while.  Your own thick hair was fanned out behind you, your bareback showing the scattered freckles that looked like constellations to him, even the way your lips parted as you were in deep sleep, Azriel thought you of as beautiful.  

He slipped the blanket back over you to keep you warm, kissing your neck lovingly before he moved out of bed.  He grabbed a sweater that was tossed on the armchair from the previous night, ruffling his hair as he threw it on and tiptoed out of the room.  Looking at you one last time as you mumbled and turned in your sleep.  Azriel had to smile, you were a bit comical to watch when you were sleeping.

The rest of the House of Wind was quiet, only dimmed lights along the hallways were evident to show that the rest of the home was asleep.  You and Azriel stayed over for the night since there was a massive snowstorm that hit Velris,  Azriel wasn’t comfortable flying you both back to your own little place by the bay where the ships docked.  Cassian offered one of the guest rooms for you two, to which you agreed and fell asleep with ease.  The guest room you both were in was on the first floor, tucked near the main terrace that overlooked Velaris.  Azriel figured, given the small amount of light that he could see creeping over the clouds that haunted its dump of snow, it was almost daw.

The temperature was cold, not too cold like the night before when Cassian suggested you both stay for the night, but cold enough for Azriel to see his breath.  He shivered slightly, though the cold was also inviting as he closed the door behind him and wrapped his arms around himself to scan the area.  Everywhere was blanketed in snow, from the tops of the mountains down to the docks and some even on the ocean water.  It almost looked like a winter wonderland from his view, the small shops dead asleep and the little homes that were tucked away in peace and safety.

Something he wanted for this place for quite some time.  

As some of the glimpses of sunlight started to come up to paint the sky a lighter blue, Azriel could think back to the plenty of times he would contemplate if he was doing the right things and making the right decisions for the sake of Velaris and Night Court, if hiding it away from the Other Courts and beyond was worth having his neck on the line.  But then again, this place was the one true sense of home he’d ever had in quite some time.  The found family he had, started with Rhsyand and Cassian, who never turned their backs on him.  In fact, he felt more at home than he’d ever felt before.  

But that sense of home grew tenfold when you came stumbling into his life and shook his world in the best way. 

He never pictures himself to be the romantic type, not like a long shot given his track record as a Shadowsinger and a spy for Rhysand.  He was too busy and occupied, too focused on certain things, even too complicated, to let someone come into his life and shift everything for him.  Not that he didn’t think about having any kind of love in his life, he did from time to time.  He was inwardly jealous that Rhysand and Cassian found their mates, and although he thought he had his own in Elaine which later turned out to be a mutual friendship, he had to wonder if he was ever destined to have someone of his own.  

You were the calm shores to his crashing waves, the gentle breeze to his gusts of wind, the rays of sunshine on a bleak morning.  From your smile that seem to make Azriel’s heartache, to the way you would twirl your hair while reading a book.  Even in how you knew how to defend yourself when in a fight as you two fought side by side against Hybern, Azriel was memorized by you.  But the one thing that drew him to you like a moth to a flame was your kindness.  You were kind to all you met, helped those who needed it, and were never selfish.  Not for one moment.  It made Azriel want to be a better version of himself, and he worked on that once you two started courting.

Centuries came and went, growth and love blossomed between the pair of you, and Azriel was certain that he could no longer live this life he had alone.  You were his guidance when he was lost, his comfort when he was struggling, and the love he’s been searching for since he lost his mother.

Another breath escaped his lips as he grinned at the view in front of him.  The snow was sticking, and another wave of snow was going to come within the hour.  But thankfully, Azriel and his mate had nothing planned for the rest of the day.  Nesta offered the library for you to use since you loved to read as much as she did, whereas Cassian and Azriel were planning to spar and train together in one of the open rooms of The House of Wind.  Mor and Armen were at their homes, as well as the High Lord and Lady a River House with Nyx. There was nothing really important to deal with, so it was now a time to have peace and reconnect.

“Can’t sleep?”

Your voice floated in the wind as Azriel turned his head slightly in your direction, hearing you sneak out onto the terrace where he was.  He grinned, you floated over to him with one of the massive comforter blankets that you both used for your sleep. Dropping it over his shoulders and avoiding his wings, Azriel tucked you under his arm to keep you close under the same blanket, kissing your hair as you wrapped your arms around him lovingly.  

“How could you tell?” He asked against your hair as you hummed.

“When you wake up early when you’ve had an intense dream,” You explained, squeezing him a bit tighter as you looked up at him with worry, “What was it about?”

You knew about his mother and how much he missed her from time to time.  He told you all that he could remember of her, and how he could hear her in his dreams.  At first, he thought it was silly to confide in you about his past it seemed painful and horrific.  But you simply took his hands in your own, kissing the scars along his skin, and loved him for all he was. It almost seemed too good to be true for him, to have someone love him and all of him.  Not just hard or a quarter, but everything.  Azriel never felt insane love like he did with you, who would make sure he’d eat and sleep, who would make him feel heard and admired, and who made Azriel rethink his future.  A future that involved a little home somewhere, maybe with a child or two or three, and to have peace.

You brought him that peace.

“Just my mother is all, and then of you,” He replied, you grinning from ear to ear as he kissed your forehead intimately, “It was a good dream,”

“That’s all that matters,” You reminded him, then patting his chest with your hand, “Let’s eat some breakfast and watch the sunrise before it snows again,”

“Sounds perfect,” Azriel hummed in agreement.  You both walked back into The House of Wind, the sky getting lighter by the minute as a new day was coming through Velaris.  He would follow you to the end of the earth and defy everything else, which sounded so strange coming from him but he never minded it.  Not with the soul that saved his life in more ways than one and kept him sane.

He had you, and that’s all that mattered.

The End

[yandere-daydreams]

Title: Obedience Training.

Pairing: Yandere!Illumi x Reader (HxH).

Commissioned by the very lovely @h2o2-and-baking-soda.

Word Count: 1.6k.

TW: Kidnapping, Prolonged Imprisonment, Physical/Psychological Abuse, Pet Play, Dehumanization, and Controlling Behavior.

The ring was beyond repair.

It was the ugly kind of damage, too – the gold chipped and dented, some parts entirely flattened while others had scratched and tarnished to the point of virtual unrecognizability. The jewel itself (a diamond the color of the sky just before sunrise and the size of the nail on your pointer finger) had been pried out of its casing and polished with the blunt side of the hammer you’d pilfered from collection of one of the more forgetful servants. Any fragments that might’ve been worth salvaging were then washed down the sink of your en suite, and the near-microscopic remnants glistened against the table’s dark mahogany – twinkling whenever they caught the ample sunlight.

It'd been his mother’s ring; albeit, one of countless. Breaking it in such an obviously deliberate way had been a stupid thing to do, and a part of you must’ve known that while you were doing it. A part of you must’ve basked in the idiotic rage of it all, must’ve been dying to see what Illumi would be like when he couldn’t hide behind those big, blank eyes and that unreadable expression. As hazy as it seemed, you could remember being excited to see how Illumi would react, what he thought he could do to you that he hadn’t already put you through.

Now, though, standing next to him as he evaluated the damage, watching as those dark, glossy eyes skirted from the splintered wood to the decimated ring to the sparkling residue…

You weren’t excited, anymore.

Several seconds passed in silent paralysis. Images of braided rope and rusted chains and broken legs flashed through your subconscious, but he managed to draw you out of your spiraling thoughts with a low hum, a startling click of his tongue. Finally, he turned toward you and raised a hand, and you braced yourself for the feeling his fist around your neck, two fingers piercing the fragile bone of your skull, his pointed nails clawing out your eyes and leaving you to ble—

His palm came to rest on top of your head, petting over your hair gently. “Sweetheart,” he muttered with a tone as warm and as affectionate as a corpse in a snowstorm. “Would you come with me?”

You opened your mouth, but closed it again just as quickly. You nodded, the gesture stilted and jerky, and Illumi offered an approving smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes, letting his hand fall to your wrist. He pressed a lingering kiss into the top of your head before tugging you gently towards the door.

Neither of you spoke as he guided you through the halls of his mansion. Usually, you could count on running into one of the sociopaths that made up his family or a member of their bloodthirsty staff whenever you left your room, but today, his sprawling home seemed to be vacant, lifeless, as empty as the killers who dwelled inside of it. Steadily, you moved downward, the marble walls turning to rough stone, the filtered sunlight soon traded out for the artificial glow of dim gas lamps. He didn’t drag his feet or try to prolong your walk to the gallows, but he didn’t rush, either, didn’t seem to be in any rush to carry out your inevitably punishment. Eventually, he came to a stop in front of a simple wooden door – unremarkable in every aspect save for the deep well of dread it managed to dredge up inside of you.

With little ceremony, the door was pushed open and you were ushered inside of ahead of him. Your attention quickly fell onto the object most immediately in front of you: a dog crate.

It was almost shockingly mundane; not overly massive, but big enough for a large pitbull or golden retriever, the bars thin but close together and the bottom cushioned by a small bed with pink and white paw prints splattered across it. A handful of miscellaneous items had been laid on top of it. Your attention caught on the collar, first, the cutesy type with a bell and fake (or, knowing Illumi, very real) gemstones studded into the leather and a matching leash, and then headband with what couldn’t be—

Illumi moved past you, approaching the crate and taking up the undeniably, indisputably dog-eared headband. He turned it over in his hands once, then twice, before speaking. “Strip.”

It sounded like gibberish; partially muffled by the static buzzing over your conscious mind and made even more difficult to process by your own unwillingness to do so. “What?”

“Strip,” he repeated. “Or I’ll break every bone in your right hand.”

It was the specificity of the threat (paired with the implication that your left wouldn’t be long to follow) that had your shaking hands reaching for the hem of your shirt and hauling it over your head. You looked towards him for approval after every shed article, but he only seemed to notice your obedience at all when you stood bare and vulnerable in front of him, completely unprotected from both his prying gaze and the chill of the damp dungeon air. You started to move towards him, but he stopped you with a quick shake of his head, a new softness to his expression. “Kneel.”

With a shallow breath, you complied, lowering yourself onto your knees. Now, now, he took his time, his terrible eyes raking over your trembling form as he came to stand in front of you. The collar was fastened around your neck deftly, the leash allowed to hang loose and pool in your lap. He was more careful with the headband – meticulously lining it up with your ears, your face before sliding it into place with a satisfied hum. In a very distant, very muted way, you found that you were surprised less that your hitman-turned-kidnapper would have a pet play lair hidden away in some dark corner of his basement, and more that the aforementioned kidnapper would use that pet play lair to dress you up as a dog, rather than a cat. Illumi was as cat-like as a man could be – silent and skulking, prone to digging his claws into what he loved most – but the more you thought about it, the more sense it made. Cats were smart and sly and perfectly capable of surviving on their own, whereas dogs were stupid and clumsy and almost painfully reliant on their owners. People get cats because they want something that can choose to love them back. People get dogs because they want something that doesn’t have another choice.

“I--Illumi,” you managed, his name still awkward and bitter on your tongue. “I… I’m really sorry, and I’ve learned my lesson, and—”

One second, you were staring at his feet, and the next, your head was snapped to the side, a searing pain stitched deeply into your cheek. His open palm slipped downward, cupping your chin and tilting your head back, forcing you to face him properly. “Good pets don’t talk.” His tone was shockingly sweet, coercive, as if he was trying to explain something very simple to a very stupid child. “Good pets only follow commands. Can you do that for me, puppy?”

Tears were starting to gather in the corners of your eyes, a tight knot lodging itself at the base of your throat, but you did your best to keep both at bay. You started to nod, then thought better of it, straightening your back and squaring your shoulders, trying to communicate the only thing you could seem to think – please don’t hurt me please don’t hurt me please don’t hurt me – without giving him a reason to land another blow. In the end, he rewarded you with the ghost of a smile, his free hand held in front of your mouth. “Good puppy. Now lick.”

You hesitated, but the steady ache pounding in your cheek was enough to make you swallow your pride. Your tongue darted out from between trembling lips, and with no small amount of trepidation, you lapped over the back of his closed fist. He let you begin to pull away before moving – before forcing two fingers into your open mouth and pressing the pads of his digits into the back of your throat. You gagged, your body instinctually recoiling, but he didn’t relent, his thumb digging into your jaw as he held you in place. Your hands shot to his thighs, the tears you’d forced back resurfacing and flooding down your cheeks, but he didn’t budge, didn’t pull away until you were gasping and breathless and utterly humiliated. Finally, he drew back, wiping his spit-soaked digits on your shoulder as his eyes moved from your open mouth to your hands, still balled around the fabric of his pants. “I have something upstairs for those,” he said, voice dripping with all the warmth and affection he usually denied you. “I’ll forgive you this time, puppy, but good pets shouldn’t be able to grab.”

He reached down, taking you by the leash. You were too detached to resist as he half-led, half-dragged you towards the crate. This time, you couldn’t stop yourself from shaking your head, from stammering out little ‘no, no, no’s as his fist curled around your collar and forced you past the metal gate and into the confined space, suddenly so much smaller than it’d seemed from the outside. You had just enough time to scramble for the door before Illumi slammed it shut, letting the clasp fall into place and leaving you withering inside the makeshift cage. You couldn’t stop yourself – hands curling around the bars as you looked toward him with your most pleading expression, but Illumi only shook his head. “You don’t have to sulk. Maybe, with some time, we’ll be able to move your bed somewhere warmer.”

He paused, his grin widening into the first real smile you’d ever earned from him.

“After you’ve proved you can be a good dog, of course.”

[crownofgildedlilies]

stormed in

pairing: shigaraki x reader summary: who knew tomura’s worst nightmare was an apartment and a snow storm? wc: 2.5k event masterlist

You’re used to people hating you.

Glares people can’t hide—ones they don’t even try to. Strangers crossing the street to avoid you or leaving public spaces entirely when they realize something isn’t quite right. You’re used to it, really. It’s been a long time since you’ve really cared about what others think of you. 

You’re a villain, after all. 

A pretty notorious one, at that. An original member of the League of Villains, dragged into the fray by the only person you would even begin to consider a friend. Iguchi—Spinner, really—was the first not to turn you away. Instead, he dragged you along with him to meet with someone supposedly linked with his idol, Stain. 

You didn’t really care for the antihero, but the first person not to flinch away from you did, so with nothing else going on in your life, you trailed behind him. 

Joining the League meant meeting other people, which you weren’t totally a fan of. But Dabi left you alone for the most part, Compress treated you like you were human, Twice tugged at the bitter remains of your heartstrings, and Toga had the cheerful bloodlust that rounded out your group.

You liked the rest of the League enough to stick around. Maybe—and you would be loath to ever admit this aloud—maybe you finally felt you belonged. 

Except for one problem. One major, destructive, oddly handsome problem. 

The boss seemed to hate you. 

Spinner tried to reason with you, more than once, that if the boss really hated you, he wouldn’t have let you stick around. And it was hard to argue with logic, but you couldn’t explain the way he glared at you, or refused to talk to you, even. He gave all your orders to Spinner and had him relay the message. It was annoying, and childish, and you hated how it made you want to get his attention even more. 

Toga once suggested that he had a crush on you, and you laughed so hard your voice turned hoarse. 

It wouldn’t have been so bad, you knew, if he had been just a regular nobody. Strangers had hated you your whole life—it wasn’t anything new to you. But the boss wasn’t a nobody, or a stranger. He was the leader of the group of idiots that had wormed their way into your hardened heart, the only troupe of people that had ever truly accepted you. 

Tomura Shigaraki hated you, and you hated him for making you like him. 

“This is your fault,”

You rolled your eyes and slammed the cabinet door shut, not finding anything useful but canned food. 

“How, exactly?” You snapped, glaring at the cramped, decrepit kitchen you found yourself trapped in. A mission gone wrong, doubled with a massive snowstorm, and you were stuck in an old hideout apartment the League had never actually used until that very day. “Last I checked, you’re the one giving orders. I’m just following them.”

“Because you’re so good at doing that.” Tomura countered, leaving the kitchen and finding haven from your glare in the equally tiny living room. Scoffing, you weren’t going to let him have any peace as you pushed off the counter and followed him. 

“We’re stuck here for who knows how long and you’re going to start off by picking fights and ignoring me?” You questioned, feeling your temper rise as he dropped on the shitty little couch. Scrunching your nose in distaste, you were pretty sure something might have been living inside the couch. 

“Get in contact with Kurogiri and get me out of here.” He ignored you, pulling out his handheld game console he was always toying with. Spinner had tried to tell you what games he played on it, but you had acted like anything that had to do with the boss irritated you beyond belief. 

“In case you forgot,” You dug out your smashed phone from your pocket and tossed it onto the couch next to him. He barely spared it a glance before going back to his game. “We’ll just have to wait for the storm to die down. Or one of the others remembers this place exists.” 

Tomura remained silent, and you opened your mouth to curse him out. Except, you hesitated when one of his hands reached up to scratch at the skin of his neck. An obvious tell that he was nervous, and you knew if he kept it up he’d start bleeding. As much as he annoyed you, you still cared about him. 

For whatever reason. 

“Don’t do that.” You ordered, arms crossed over your chest defiantly. His hands stalled their scratching, so you knew he understood what you meant. 

“I give the orders, you follow.” He seethed. You shrugged, smirking once more at him as he dropped his hand back to his video game. Turning to investigate further into the small apartment—a bedroom and a bathroom left for your inspection—you called out to him once more over your shoulder in a final act to stoke his fury.

“Because I’m so good with that.”

At least he stopped scratching, even if he was pissed off at you.

You found a whole lot of nothing in the apartment. A ratty bed, bare minimum toiletries, a first aid kit, and a few spare blankets.

But you had found something in the bathroom’s cabinet that had caught your interest. Wrapped in a borrowed blanket to combat the drafty apartment, you wandered back towards the living room where Tomura hadn’t left yet. 

“Hey, Boss,” You called as you entered the room.

“I told you not to call me that.” He countered, not bothering to look up at you. In the time it had taken you to search the place, you had cooled off. But it seemed like he hadn’t. 

You smirk, feeling like teasing, even if it would only make his mood worse. 

“Fine then. Tomura.” You feel his glare without him even having to look up from the video game he held. You only ever used his given name on rare occasions—never in front of the others, always to make him mad. “I found this in the back of the cabinet.” 

A peace offering. A bottle of anti-itch lotion. 

And maybe it was for yourself, too. Watching Tomura squirm during your arguments was fun, but watching him suffer while he scratched at his obviously irritated skin was far from it. 

You tossed him the bottle and dropped onto the couch beside him, given that it was the only piece of furniture in the place. You hoped the blanket wrapped around you was enough to keep out whatever made the couch so gross. 

Tomura didn’t say thanks, not that you had expected him too after your little given name stunt only seconds before, but you knew he was grateful by the way he instantly picked up the lotion. 

You watched him in careful anticipation for the way he would spread the cream with only four of his fingers, always intrigued by the delicate way he navigated his everyday life with such a destructive quirk. It was admirable, really, that he had such control over his quirk. You couldn’t imagine the heartbreak it took to get where he was. 

“Stop staring,” He ordered, and you rolled your eyes. Admirable, yes, but still irritating. 

“No,” You countered, smiling brightly at him just to piss him off that much more. You watched as Tomura attempted to take off the screw top lid of the lotion with only four fingers, but something kept the lid from turning—no doubt old residue from the previous uses.

He cursed under his breath, and just as you contemplated reaching out to help him open it, his fingers slipped and all five touched the lid. In an instant, the lid was decayed, solving the problem of opening the lid but leaving the air thick with tension. 

For a moment, all you heard was the heavy snow that kept you trapped pounding against the glass window and Tomura’s ragged breathing. You knew he hated looking like he wasn’t in control. It was part of the reason you pretended to disobey his orders—it was fun to rile him up. 

But there was an uncomfortable buzzing in your chest as you watched him struggle to come to terms with the fact that his quirk kept him from something as simple as opening a bottle. 

“Here, let me.” You murmured into the quiet, and Tomura didn’t even protest as you knelt close enough that your leg brushed against his on the couch. Slipping the container of lotion from his opposite hand, you settled it on the cushion beside you. 

The cream was cold against your fingers, so you rubbed your hands together to warm it up before you used your index finger to turn Tomura’s face towards you. Distantly, you knew how intimate what you were about to do was, but you also didn’t care. 

Tomura gave you a place to connect with others that were just as broken as you. The least you could do was rub some lotion into his aching skin.

You started with his cheeks, making sure every inch of his face was covered. You rubbed the lotion in with smooth circles, more gentle with another human being than you ever had been in your entire life. 

Despite it all, Tomura’s stare remained distant. 

You could tell he was losing focus on the now. The accidental use of his quirk might’ve sent him down a dark path, and you knew you needed to retrieve him from it before it was too late. 

“Have you ever been touched like this, Tomura?” You asked, using your thumbs to spread the lotion gently around his eyes where you knew he itched most. Your voice was barely louder than a whisper, yet it felt like a shout in the otherwise silent room. 

At first, it didn’t seem like he was going to answer. Your words were meant to come out as a tease, as something meant to stoke the flames of his anger and get him to snap, to react, to do something other than stare blankly ahead. 

“My mother.” He finally answered. His voice was eerily calm, but he had answered, and he had given you a heart wrenchingly true response. Frowning, you found yourself applying the lotion to the area on his neck where you had seen him scratching earlier with a newfound gentle care.

Why did your hands feel like they were tingling each time your skin touched his?

“Can I ask you a question?” You avoided the topic of mothers. No one exactly became a villain because their origin story was a happy one, and you respected Tomura enough to bring up something so painful. 

“You’ve already asked two.” He countered, and the corners of your lips quirked up in response. Slowly, he was returning back to normal. 

“Well, here’s a third.” You rolled your eyes playfully, setting the lotion onto the coffee table before the two of you. You kept yourself facing him, and when he didn’t turn away, you took that as a good sign. “Why do you hate me?”

“I don’t.” His response was quick, and you frowned. He held your eye as he answered, and you could tell he was telling the truth. It didn’t make sense, though. He treated you differently than the other League members—snappier, sassier, almost distant. 

“Fourth. Why do you act like you hate me, then?”

You were leaning towards him eagerly, like a child listening to a made up story. You were pretty certain this was the longest you had ever talked to Tomura without him yelling in your face, and he had spent half the time on the verge of spiraling in on himself over his quirk. 

Not exactly the most romantic, but you’d take what you could get. 

“You make my chest hurt.” His answer, no more confusing than his silence, came in a murmur as he finally looked away from you. 

“Oh,” You frown, dropping back into your seat. It wasn’t what you had been expecting him to say, but then again, nothing he had said in the past ten minutes had been expected. Hell, even the storm that kept you trapped hadn’t been forecasted. “Like, in a good way or a bad way?”

“You’ve reached your limit on questions. Leave me alone.” He grumbled, picking up his previously discarded video game, though you could tell from the flush creeping up his neck that he wasn’t fully paying attention to what was on the screen.

“Bad at following orders, remember?” You reminded him of his own comment from when you first arrived at the safehouse, never one to turn down the opportunity to tease the boss. 

“How could I forget,” He murmured dryly, like you were annoying him, his focus still on the game he was steadily failing at. You were slowly coming to realize that maybe his hate actually masked something else. 

And maybe yours did, too. 

“Tomura, do you know what that feeling in your chest is?” With a rare spike of bravery, you extended a hand to press your palm over his heart, feeling it race under your touch. If you were wrong about what he meant, then you’d probably lose your arm. He had no problem decaying people he found annoying, even if Spinner would give him hell if you were hurt. 

But if you were right…

“I don’t hate you,” He repeated, like that was the only way he could express what he felt. And maybe it was. Maybe he was so far beyond help that what he really felt—that love you suspected he held for you—only made sense as not hate in his eyes. 

And maybe you were just as screwed up as he was, because the idea of saying you loved someone felt wrong. You weren’t loved by anyone, and you couldn’t love in return. How else would you have ended up in the care of the League of Villains? But you were still human, despite it all, and connections to others formed even without permission. 

“I don’t hate you, either.” 

Tomura met your eye, and you knew he understood what he meant. All the petty arguments, the teasing, the longing glances disguised as glares. All of it was a way for two broken people to connect, to cover up for feelings they couldn’t understand due to life and circumstance. 

I don’t hate you. Never, you.

The sentiment wasn’t enough, but it would have to do for now.

The storm outside caused the lights to flicker and dim until they finally gave out and plunged the two of you in darkness. Wordlessly, you shifted your position on the couch until your head was resting on his shoulder. He doesn’t comment on your touch, and instead continues his video game in silence, allowing you to watch while he plays. You would weather the storm together, enjoying the feeling of not hating each other.