#WHY IS IT SO LOUD I JUST WANTED PEANUT BUTTER SHUT THE FUCK UP

[dukeofriven]

In our age of uptight prudery and corporations doing everything in their power to strip sex from everywhere in the universe except underwear ads and creepy anime made exclusively for the worst CompSci guy you knew in first-year university, it should be a moral right for a person to be allowed to climb on the shelves of supermarkets in order to reach the speakers and rip them out of the ceiling, throwing them to the ground while shouting SHUT UP SHUT UP I CAN'T HEAR MYSELF THINK SHUT THE FUCK UP.

[ittybluebell]

Roommate | Daredevil G/T | Chapter 1

AO3

Next

Matt Murdock didn't have anything against mice. He'd never been personally harrassed by one, but he understood the need to get rid of them. One easily turned into a dozen and with all the mess and digging into food, eviction was necessary. Despite how many rodents he heard daily, it wasn't something he thought about. The only reason mice were on his mind now was because one had moved into the floor, and he could hear it moving around as he laid in bed.

Now, like he said, Matt didn't have anything against mice.

Scrtch-scrtch-tick.

This one, however, was pushing its luck.

It showed up one night, moving in when he was out vigilante-ing and he only noticed the next day. At first, he didn't care. It was alone and hadn't yet realized there was food in his apartment. He had other, more pressing issues than a single mouse. It was a benign little thing - hardly a problem. Most nights, he could ignore the pitter-pattering and scraping or put in his noise-canceling earbuds.

Tonight, the mouse was too loud for earbuds. As he tossed and turned, Matt fumed, wondering what that rodent could possibly be up to. Rearranging furniture? Fuck, it sounded like it. Little mouse furniture.

Enough was enough. Matt threw a pillow at the floor and told the thing to shut up. To his surprise, it did. Matt sighed and finally went to sleep.

From that night on, he noticed a drastic decline in his downstairs neighbor's noise pollution.

How silly it was, Matt thought during a good mood, holding a grudge toward an animal. Especially one that was polite enough to let him sleep in peace.

Oh, how naïve he was.

The mouse quickly reinstated its grudge status when Matt noticed things going missing. It started with the bagels - a hole in the bag he noticed because the scent of bagel was particularly strong. Upon investigation, he discovered there was a complete lack of crumbs. And a chunk discreetly chewed from the middle. From there, things escalated. He smelled the shift in the air, smelled the remnants of another living being in his apartment. Little objects went missing - things even a seeing person might miss. But not Matt Murdock.

The sock was the last straw.

"What's the best bait for mouse traps?" Matt asked as soon as he entered the office.

"Cheese?" Foggy answered, confused. "Why? Do you have mice?"

"One. One mouse."

"How d- nevermind. Let me guess - you can't sleep."

"It's taking my stuff."

Foggy laughed. Karen huffed.

"At least tell me you're using non-lethal," said Karen. Upon his silence, she aww'd sadly. "Matt, no. It's just a mouse. You can't kill it."

"They're pests," said Foggy.

"But they're so cute. It just wants a place to live."

"Karen-" started Matt.

"No, no, she's got a point." Foggy spun his chair around. "Matt, you can't kill it! So cute and fuzzy!"

The lawyer-by-day, vigilante-by-night groaned. "Fine, I won't. Just stop looking at me like that."

"Like what?"

"Foggy, I can feel your eyes fake-tearing up."

Matt bought some glue traps and baited them with peanut butter. When Karen told him glue traps were worse - "They're so inhumane, Matt!" - he assured her that he'd know when the mouse got stuck; it wouldn't suffer. As much as the thing annoyed him, Karen was right: he wasn't going to abandon his no-killing rule for one mouse. (One mouse that must have a vendetta against him. He would not stoop to its level.) What kind of hypocrite would he be, huh?

The traps were set. Now to wait.

And wait.

A week passed. No mouse was caught. When he listened to its movement, he realized it was avoiding the spots he'd trapped. Avoiding the usual routes.

Smart. For a rodent. But Matt was smarter.

More traps, different bait. Traps disguised as the food and objects he'd noticed go missing, even the mate to his missing sock. It couldn't resist now.

Days passed.

Evidently, it could resist.

Foggy teased him about being outsmarted by an animal. Karen was on the mouse's side. Somebody must've told Jessica because he got a condescending text offering her services. Traitors, every one of them.

It all came to a head one terrible Friday night. Matt was already in a bad mood when he got home from work but going out, hearing and feeling New York City, pushed him over the edge. He was annoyed, his brain was overstimulated, and he just wanted to rest. The rooftop access door shut behind him and he threw his helmet into its trunk, about to shed the rest when the distinct sound of scratching and plastic crinkling in the kitchen cupboard caught his ear.

Matt stilled. It was here.

He marched with purpose toward the sounds.

That little bastard wasn't getting away this time. Catching it would be a satisfying end to a crappy day.

The mouse started fleeing before he was even close. It was headed for the other end of the cupboards - a hole in the floor Matt wasn't aware of but now could sense the air flowing from within. He'd have to seal that in the mor-

Mice didn't run on two legs.

Matt cocked his head, listening to the pattern of footfalls. He'd never cared to pay attention, but now it was impossible to miss. He knew what scurrying rodents sounded like. Whatever was in his kitchen, it was no rodent. It was bipedal. A bird? No, not with that speed. Not with that gait. He needed a closer examination.

Matt threw open the cupboard door. The first thing to hit his senses was the scent of corn chips.

The second was the heartbeat.

The creature's heart pounded swiftly in its chest. Air rushed from a mouth that was too upright for any kind of animal, a nose too humanlike. Small shoes hit the baseboard as it ran. Fabric rustled the same way he heard every single day in the street - like clothing.

Matt got lower, needing to be closer, needing to examine this little anomaly. How it moved, how it sounded, how uncannily familiar it was.

The living shape that his senses created was so alike to people that he was too shocked to outwardly react.

The little thing escaped into the floor, and Matt Murdock was left crouching there. Slowly, he shut the door. He took off the suit, dressed his wounds, and went to bed, his mind racing.

His body was exhausted, but he couldn't sleep. Not when he was tracking the creature's movements. Every scrape, every soft thud of a step, the whisper-

Whispering?

"You're fine. He didn't see you. There's no way…"

Whispering. Okay.

Matt pretended he didn't hear anything and put in his earbuds. That was a tomorrow-Matt problem.

Unfortunately for tomorrow-Matt, another problem knocked on his door first. That problem rhymed with Stank Hassle and didn't like to be ignored. Frank did offer coffee when they left so at least it wasn't a total bust. It was a good opportunity to get Matt out of his head; to get a clear perspective of the night before. Matt decided he was exhausted and hallucinating. The alternative was a tiny person living in the walls of his apartment. Delusion was easier.

Delusion was also what kept the borrower from abandoning the apartment altogether.

Call them stubborn, or stupid, but Finch didn't want to leave. Borrowers could only get so lucky. Landing a decent apartment with an oblivious bean was a rare opportunity, and Finch had no intention of giving it up. They would use this good fortune. Even if they didn't deserve it.

Finch shook off the guilt following that thought.

They spent the first week setting up: finding a place to sleep and tidying it up, living off the rations they packed. They got a lay of the land, surveying the apartment and its infrastructure. The excessively bright billboard directly in front of the living room window, the kitchen, and - most importantly - the bean. Light - or lack thereof - was never an issue for him. Not once did he flip a switch or so much as use his phone, which read texts aloud to him. He hardly looked at whatever claimed his attention. Everything added up to limited vision, but they couldn't be sure. It was safest not to risk any assumptions.

Evidence pointed to some damn good hearing when Finch was carving planks of wood out of the floor's innards. They were minding their own business, content with their repetitive, calming task, when something large and loud impacted the ceiling a dozen paces away.

The borrower nearly jumped out of their overalls, giving a startled squeak.

"Shut up," yelled the muffled voice above.

Pretending their soul wasn't just violently expelled from their body, Finch smoothed down their curly brown hair and exhaled shakily, making a mental note to postpone noisy work till the bean was away.

And they did good on that: when the bean was home, Finch completed the quieter, slower tasks. They thought they'd discovered the formula for living under the radar, satisfied to have found a routine that worked.

Then the traps appeared. Finch cursed their luck. The jig was up. The bean set up gross glue traps in outer access points, a couple even getting to the paths Finch took. Finch avoided them and laid low for a bit, hoping the lack of activity would convince the bean they'd skipped town. But more traps appeared. Smart ones, too - they almost fell for a couple. Now, Finch knew a thing or two about a thing or two. They made new routes and took extra care when borrowing. They even started mapping paths to the apartments below. Despite their small stature, Finch had a lot of room for determination. After a life of sticking their hand in the fire, they learned to take the heat. If the bean wanted them gone, he'd have to try a lot harder.

Night fell. The bean was gone. He followed routines - ones he scarcely strayed from. It would be hours before his return.

Finch made their way to the kitchen. They pushed up the trapdoor and strolled through the cupboard. They still had to be careful: just because the human wasn't home didn't mean they could throw all caution to the wind. Leaving evidence was a massive negatory. Finch didn't care for stupid rules, but the rules of borrowing were locked in their brain. They were already careless with the bagels, something they couldn't afford again. Desperation wasn't an excuse for sloppy borrowing - not when it exposed them.

Finch observed the boxes and containers around them, reading labels and calculating risk and reward. There was no chance of getting into that cereal box, but the nutrition bars would be a good grab. The box was short and already open. Finch pushed a can of tuna against it and hopped on. They began extracting a bar only to realize they had no way of getting something so large home without a sled.

"No, that'd be too easy." With a huff, Finch dropped it and shoved the can back into place. "'cause food can never be-" plastic crinkled under their foot "-easy?" Finch inspected the blue packaging. It was an open bag of tortilla chips. They grinned.

The scent of corn chips filled the space as Finch unfurled the bag. They dropped their backpack and started breaking the triangular chips into smaller pieces. Salt-free, too? Hell, yes. They tested the backpack's weight, put a bit more inside, then pulled the strings tight. They slung the strap across their chest. Oh, yeah, this would last them a good while. Finch fought with the chip bag, trying to roll the top underneath like it was before.

"Come on. Stupid fuckin'-" They tried to simultaneously lift the heavy bag and pull the other end.

Over the sounds of plastic popping and crackling in their ears, Finch didn't hear a door open and shut.

DOOM.

They did, however…

DOOM.

…feel the approaching footsteps of the human bean.

Finch froze. Blue eyes snapped wide open, their head flinching away from the plastic. It couldn't be...

Finch bolted.

He's supposed to be out why is he back-

DOOM.

They didn't need to know why he was back - just that he was and he was approaching at an alarming rate.

DOOM.

Oh, fuck, that's actually really close-

The doors ripped open. The hinges didn't even get a chance to squeak.

Finch stumbled. Air caught in their throat. For a moment, Finch was rooted to the floor. Just a moment. Long enough to see the human's form towering beyond the counter, covered in some kind of dark red leather. Long enough to see boots more than capable of squishing the life out of them.

Legs like fenceposts bent as the human came unbelievably closer. Closer than Finch had ever been to a bean. A giant face suspended above them, features blank and expressionless. Not once did the bean look at them.

Finch ran. They didn't look back. When they reached the hole in the floor, they plugged it up and kept going. Keep running.

Only when they reached the safety of their shelter did they falter.

"Oh, shit," they gasped, resting their weight on a nearby post. If their heart didn't outright stop, they were sure it might burst from their ribcage. Finch felt that exploding was a reasonable response. "He didn't see me." The scene replayed in their mind, over and over like a glitched tape. "I'm fine. You're fine. He didn't see you. There's no way he saw you. Just breathe."

Delusion, like they said. It was a powerful thing. It pulled many tricks on the mind. Like convincing oneself that they weren't discovered.

The apartment was quiet. Too quiet, one might even say, if they weren't one Matt Murdock. He never got that phrase. Nothing was 'too quiet'. In his - correct - opinion, nothing was quiet enough. There was always something creaking, breathing, or thumping, even in the smallest hours of the night. But on some front he had to agree: there was a suspicious lack of activity from the critter in the floor lately. Reluctant as he was to admit it, he couldn't deny that it wasn't an animal. Animals didn't mutter to themselves, in full sentences, in English. He wasn't mentally, emotionally, or spiritually prepared to assess beyond whatever that meant. In the moments his mind wandered, however - such as now, sitting and listening to a recording for his current case - he found himself pondering the tiny being regardless.

The peace wasn't an accident. Finch had been avoiding that place, giving themself and the air time to settle. They continued work on their residence, slotting together panels of wood and cardboard to form walls. One room would do for now - they just needed protection from the elements and potential scavengers slinking around. Skies above, if a cockroach tried anything, it was next on the menu. Grind up the little fucker into a smoothie. Finch wished a bug would: it'd be miles better than those godforsaken tortilla chips. Finch gave the wood posts they'd just secured a good push, nodding in satisfaction and moving on to the wall. It would be the last one to seal up their box of a house.

Four days. It'd been four days since Finch was nearly discovered; four days since they stared a bean in the face and got away unscathed. Four days since they got an answer to what they'd only suspected: the human couldn't see. That explained the brilliantly bright billboard, the sensitive hearing, the lack of lights - it explained a lot. Finch had to re-evaluate their approach to borrowing. This human would be extra careful about his possessions - the sock was proof enough - and notice what was out of place. In some ways, this both simplified and complicated things.

But borrowers were nothing if not adaptable.

Finch ventured up to a peephole in the wall and looked out. Nothing had changed except the bean now sitting at the dining table, papers and an electronic box neatly laid out on the tabletop. Casually dressed, he was listening to… a podcast? No, too personal. Finch liked podcasts. There was a crime involved, but this sounded like a conversation Finch would overhear more than something designed to entertain. So this bean worked in solving crimes. A detective?

They listened to the dry as hell audio a scant longer before growing bored and moving on. Hey, at least the bean was preoccupied.

Naturally, they found themself puttering toward the kitchen. Wielding two bent nails tied to their belt, Finch climbed up the cupboard door, using hinges and decorative bevels alike to hoist themself up. Those bagels were good. Were there any left? Nothing but corn chips really wore down a person's capacity to give a damn. They perused the counter, confident that the bean was sufficiently distracted by his work. Finch was disappointed to find the bagels sealed in an airtight container. It was their own fault, slicing up the bag so messily. They pulled a face and resumed their search.

A plate of mostly-eaten pasta sat before them. Fuck yes! Finch scuttled to it, pulling out rolls of tinfoil from their bag. Careful to avoid crinkling, they gathered up all the leftover noodles and sauce that would fit.

Finch squirreled away their haul, licking their fingers clean of evidence and ignorant of the man listening to their heist just a few metres away.

Matt stopped paying attention to the tape some time ago.

The sounds of Hell's Kitchen couldn't drown out the little inhabitant in his walls. A scent had blown into the room, vaguely familiar with hints of tortilla chip. He sat straighter and listened, idly shuffling papers and tip-tapping his fingers on the table. He found himself unable to be anything other than impressed as they scaled his counter like a mountain climber. Whatever was left from dinner became his visitor's latest plunder. That was fine; less waste, right?

He was disappointed when they returned to the walls. He wound back the recording to get some work done, but found himself consistently distracted by his small neighbour's goings-on. This discovery was just so unique, so strange - how could he not be curious? He heard them venture out again, across the apartment now. Into his bedroom. What could they be doing?

Oho, if Matt found any more socks missing-

He turned in his seat, about to rise, when he heard:

"You hafta to be shittin' me."

The voice, quiet in size only and bold beyond that, was the mildly annoyed tone of someone who'd been inconvenienced. Matt had heard it before, in the late hush of the night, when no one else would. Muttered curses and remarks that blended into the creaking and groaning of buildings and chatter and sirens of the city. One voice that Matt Murdock had tried very hard not to think too much about.

"When is enough too much, huh?" the voice griped. "Does he think I'm just gonna lay on one? 'Oh, felt silly today, stepped on the massive rug of glue.' How 'bout I drag this onto your floor, see how you feel walkin' in a minefield?" They growled. "UGH. Beans."

Well.

There was no denying it anymore, was there? A tiny person was living in the walls of Matt's apartment.

Matt leaned back, processing. He'd tried ignoring it - for the sake of his mental health and faith - because it was insane. It was impossible. It shouldn't be.

And yet…

Matt wanted - needed - to investigate further.

He got up, quietly, light on his feet. He didn't make it two steps before he heard a swear and the tiny person retreated once more. Into an electrical outlet, by the sounds of it.

Hm. He couldn't sneak up on them - not this time. They heard him- no. Matt quirked his head, considering. They felt him approaching. Like Matt, they could feel vibrations. Vibrations that alerted them of a threat. It only made sense.

Heh, 'threat'. Regular ol' Matt Murdock was the threat this time, not his alter ego. Wasn't that something?

The next time Matt encountered his new neighbour, he was trying - and failing - to fall asleep. There was too much on his mind for sleep. Frustrated, he huffed and flopped over, restless, his thoughts racing. Sounds of the city were extra distracting tonight. He considered getting up and making a cup of tea - maybe that would calm his mind.

Noises from the kitchen drew his scattered focus. He sat up, listening to the scuffing and tapping that he'd come to recognize as his uninvited houseguest. Three visits in one day. Were they always this proactive? Well, he did interrupt their attempted heist of his bedroom. Matt scooted to the edge of the bed. He would make that tea, actually. As he stood, he remembered sneaking didn't work last time. Right. Heavy-footed. However, he had a hunch that this attempt would yield a sneakier result.

Aided by socks, Matt softly padded through his apartment. Tiny - the name he assigned his little visitor - was fiddling with some kind of packaging on the top shelf. And as he got closer, lo and behold, they did not startle. His theory was correct: the further Tiny was from the floor, the weaker their pallesthesia became. Their ability to detect vibrations just wasn’t as sensitive as his own. Once he stepped foot into the kitchen, Matt dropped the Daredevil act and let himself be known. He grabbed a mug and turned on the kettle. Tiny's pulse quickened; their breath hitched. He gave them time to hide before he opened the cupboard for a tea bag. He quickly realized the box wasn't in its usual spot - his own doing, unfortunately.

"Stupid tea bags," he muttered for Tiny's sake; an 'I'm not looking for you, I swear!' assurance as he searched the cabinets. For extra sauce, he added, "Always misplacing them."

Would he forgo tea? He did start the kettle… as much as he got a kick out of playing the part of oblivious blind guy, causing Tiny undue terror wasn't his end goal. He wanted to test them, their cockiness, not scare them. Tiny may be a thief, but they were just trying to survive. Why else was food their number one haul? Matt dedicated his life to helping people in need. Wasn't Tiny part of that demographic? Weren't they someone in need? Unless small people were running drug cartels and trafficking rings, Tiny was innocent.

Doubt and guilt crept in. Maybe he was pushing the bit too far.

Matt was just about to get up and leave when something square and coarse pressed into his fingers.

He faltered, then pinched it, rubbing his thumb over the material. Its strong, earthy scent gave it away.

A tea bag.

Small shoes lightly retreated. Matt withdrew his hand. He held the sachet of dried herbs, cogs turning in his mind. He tilted his head.

Tiny handed him a tea bag. That…

Matt found himself puzzled and oddly touched. It was for their own good, to avoid getting found, but he couldn't not appreciate the nice gesture. He easily smelt where the tea was, of course. But Tiny didn't know that. Huh.

Maybe he was being too harsh about the sock.

The kettle's bubbling pitch rose to a squeal. Wincing, Matt shut it off. He dropped the tea bag into the mug and poured steaming water over it.

What a strange experience. He wondered what Tiny was thinking. Their heartbeat eased into the fluttering pace that he learned was its resting rate. It was the trait that had him most convinced his roommate was a rodent of some sort, though the way they squeaked when startled was a close second.

Matt threw out the tea bag and took the mug to his room, leaving Tiny to their task.

The next day, he casually slipped questions about tiny people into a conversation with Foggy. (It was not casual and quite random, actually.)

"You mean, like… fairies?" Foggy cautiously asked.

Sort of? Matt didn't know whether Tiny could be considered a fairy. They certainly didn't seem like the fairy type, not with the kind of language he heard them utter. Did fairies say 'fuck'? Would that break some kind of fairy law?

Karen told him about a book series that she'd been obsessed with as a kid: it contained many smaller magical beings. Brownies, for instance. Matt settled on definitely not that one. What favours was he receiving? Aside from the tea bag - an isolated incident - absolutely none.

Matt wasn't convinced they were a magical creature. Really, they just… seemed like a normal person, albeit smaller. They hummed to themself, snickered at their own dumb jokes, and swore a hot streak that would impress even Castle and Jones. Matt was pretty damn sure they'd been building a house under his floor, though he noticed all the loud busywork was put on pause when he was home, most notably when he was sleeping. Another nice gesture that was also for their own self-preservation.

Maybe they were a mutant. Or maybe they were mutated, like him.

When Matt got home, he discarded the glue traps. It felt wrong to leave them now that he knew it was a person he'd been trying to catch. Guilty, he started leaving crumbs in easy-to-reach locations. It wouldn’t hurt him any - his grocery budget wasn’t gonna tank because of some scraps. If chips and leftovers were what they were after, then they had free reign over the countertop. That didn’t stop him from being cheeky about it, though - if Tiny was getting confident, he might as well play along.

He found Tiny’s courage something to marvel at. Roaming a giant’s home? Without fear? His vigilante persona was literally named Daredevil and he was impressed.

However, bravery and foolishness were not mutually exclusive. That’s when the cockiness came in.

Matt was minding his business, washing the dishes, when Tiny wandered out. Brows hitching up, he continued sponging the plate. Surely, they wouldn't-

Oh, but they did.

Unwavering, Tiny climbed up the counter they same way as before. They walked up to the pan on the stove and hooked a leg over. Matt fought hard not to chuffle. This was getting out of hand. Matt remembered an adage about not feeding animals or else they'd grow dependent. Had Matt inadvertently done exactly that? Animals that were accustomed to people often didn't see the danger. Tiny was certainly no animal, but the absence of caution they displayed in the moment was, frankly, ridiculous. It was a massive leap from the times they would flee his presence. He was starting to think he'd played too ignorant.

A smirk tugged at his lips upon hearing the leftover eggs being pilfered. When he turned to fetch the pan, Tiny was already hopping to the floor and disappearing behind the fridge.

Stealing right behind his back. When was enough too much, indeed.

AO3

Next

[thesiblingsoftheblackandwhite]

[[MENTIONS OF FOOD INSECURITY, ANGER, YELLING]]

How do you all feel about…peanut butter sandwiches?

It’s dark in Waylon manor as Tinky pulls out the needed bread slices. As he keeps pulling them out, he cringes.

…Ten fuckin’ slices, that’s…more than half the…

He squeezes his eyes closed. That’s why they grabbed two bags. Feeding five people a day wasn’t a small task. Using a knife from the package of plastic utensils they bought at the General Store, Tinky spreads a lot of peanut butter onto half the slices. Blinky passes the sandwiches out.

Thanks.

Nibblenephim is finished first. He glances at the open bag of bread, but can’t count the remaining slices.

…Tinky, can I have another?

He misses the glare Wiggog gives him. Karaxis winces. They do have more bread and spread, but the only options other than those is cold canned food. Not to mention the food bank only opened so many days a week.

Let’s wait until everyone’s done, Nibbs.

OK.

Blinky notes that he does sit very still, patiently. It takes a few minutes for the rest of his brothers to finish. Tinky picks up the bag; the crinkle of plastic echoes, joltingly loud.

Does anyone want another sandwich?

They share glances that are more than a bit apprehensive. Nibbly is the only one who hums in affirmation.

Please?

The bread slides against thin plastic.

OK, one for Nibbly…anyone else?

…I’m fine.

Me too.

Nibblenephim gets his sandwich. He eats it slowly, trying to savor it. It doesn’t last long - he’s starving.

…T’noy Karaxis, I will shove that sandwich down your throat.

Tinky’s sandwich stays half-eaten, balanced on his knee. He makes a face.

I…am not hungry, Bliklotep.

Don’t bullshit me, we haven’t eaten in hours.

Tinky snatches the sandwich and takes quick, forceful bites until it’s gone. Shaking crumbs off his hands, he glares at his younger brother.

Happy?

Bliklotep nods slowly.

…How about we all take a rest? We’ve had a rough day.

The pillow fort is set up properly again silently. Nibbly pushes the cushions together as the others fix the sheet draped over the chairs.

Can we do the sleep-in-a-pile thing we’ve been doing?

Wiggly spits out a scoff.

You’re so needy, Nibblenephim.

Nibbly turns to him, frowning.

That wasn’t what-

No, we’re all trying to make this easier but you’re-

Wiggly, don’t-

Blinky cringes.

We can talk about this tomorrow-

-completely tone-deaf to-

-I was just curious-

-everyone’s tired and cranky-

-‘cranky’? What are you, a baby-?

-no, I’m just saying-

SHUT UP!

The four jerk to their oldest brother, caught off guard. T’noy rubs his forehead roughly, muttering something. He looks up with a weary glare.

Wiggog Y’wrath, that was hardly appropriate. Bliklotep, I know you’re trying to help - don’t. Pokey, Nibbly-

He cups his hands over his face with a groan.

Just - go the fuck to sleep. Please.

Blinky’s catches onto how his voice wavers, trailing him as he goes further into the hallway and a door slam cuts through the silence.

…Come on, we need sleep.

Tinky hits the back of his head against the wall. His arms press his knees together tightly as he tilts his head up, blinking away blurry vision.

[thickhoneybun]

It meant nothing

Summary: y/n is dating Rooster and they live together. After a get together Jake spends the night and kisses y/n.

WC: 1006

Warning: Cussing 

The party had been over for a few hours and now you are laid in bed with Bradley. He is asleep and snoring so loud. Every time he drinks to much and falls asleep it sounds like a freight train in your bed. Kissing him softly on the head you get out of the bed and decide to go eat a snack.

Now in the kitchen you make a plate of peanut butter, bananas, and crackers. You make your way to the living room and turn on Shrek 2 (The best Shrek movie btw). While watching the movie you hear someone walking down the hallway and it is Jake. Jake asked to spend the night because he was a little to drunk and didn't want to drive. He walks in with no shirt on and some sweatpants. "Do you know how to put clothes on?" you ask while turning back to the movie. "I usually sleep naked so be glad I put some pants on.", Jake says while giving you a cocky smirk and sitting down on the couch.

Ya’ll continue to watch the movie and laughed together. "Are you hungry? I can make you a snack or warm up some of the left over BBQ?" Jake smiles at you asking this. He always thought you were so sweet and hates that he didn't ask you out before Bradley did. "Sure, I'll take some of the snack you were eating." he gives you the biggest smile. You get up from the couch and he sees that your sleep shorts have rode up a bit, and he bites his bottom lip. You come back a few minutes later with a plate for him and hand it to him. Sitting down you grab a blanket and draped it over yourself before turning on another movie.

"You're really into this Shrek stuff aren't you?" Jake says while placing a cracker in his mouth. "They are the best movies in Cinematic history!" you both let out a laugh. The other movie ends and you decide it is time to go back to bed. Getting up Jake grabs you by the arm and pulls you in for a kiss. You pull back quickly and place your hand over your mouth. A few moments of silents pass and you finally say, "Don't ever do that again. Why would you think that is okay?" Jake just stares at you. "I am with Bradley and I am extremally happy with him. I'm sorry if I gave you an impression that this was going to be an okay thing to do. I don't want this to ruin ya’ll friendship and my relationship with him. Don't bring this up again. I think its best if we go to bed." After saying this you walk out of the room and go back to the bedroom.

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A few weeks have passed and you kept getting text from Jake telling him how sorry he was. You didn't respond to any of them because honestly you didn't know what to say. Bradley had went out to the Hard Deck tonight and you had decided to stay home.

While in the kitchen cleaning up the dishes from the dinner you heard the front door open and slam shut. Looking down at your watch you see its around 11pm and Bradley usually stays till last call. "Roo? Is that you?". Bradley storms around the corner and he looks pissed. "What the fuck y/n? You kiss my best friend and you don't even have the guts to tell me?" You are taken back but what he says. "Bradley I didn't kiss him, he kissed me and I cut that shit off immediately. I told him that it wasn't okay." you feel tears begin to form as you yell back at him. "I just cant fucking believe this! I thought we were good y/n, now I don't know what to think. I'm having a good time with my friends and then Jakes drunk ass decides to tell everyone that ya'll kissed the other night. Do you know how fucking embarrassing that is for me?" Bradley voice is getting louder and louder with every sentence. "I-I'm sorry. I should have told you as soon as it happened. It meant nothing to me and I told him that. I told him I was happy with you and that he needed to loose whatever thought he had of me." tears start to run down your face. Bradley just scoffs and goes to the bedroom and slams the door.

Standing in the kitchen for what fells like hours you finally decide to go to the couch. You grab a blanket and lay down. Turning on the tv you lay there and stare at the screen not really able to focus on anything. Letting out soft sobs while hating yourself for the issues that have been caused. You look at your phone and notice it is now 3am and Bradley has not came out of the room. You have decided that the couch is your bed for the night and you slowly start to drift asleep.

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You are woken up from a light tap on your shoulder. Looking up you see Bradley standing in front of you. "Come on baby lets go to bed.", Bradley says while putting his hand out. You sit up and grab his hand while he leads you to the bedroom. Laying down in the bed Bradley crawls in next you and grabs you pulling you to his chest. "I'm sorry I yelled at you. I should have talked to you like an adult y/n." "You don't have to apologize Roo. I should have told you when it happened, I'm sorry for any issues I have caused." Bradley played with your hair before grabbing your chin and nudging you to come closer. He places a soft kiss on your lips and gently tells you, "I love you baby and I don't want Jake being a fucking dumbass to ruin this." "I love you too Bradley."

[cemeterylaned]

brain not want to write so bullet points

- simon meets monalisa like right before he decides to make abouthat

- or beginning of senior year but probably before

- monalisa new student at school and it's so weird she is virtually unsearchable and it makes him insane. no pictures of her online, and the only ones that do exist she doesn't even look at the camera or they're blurry. she has an instagram @monalikethepainting

- she moved from northern california! she's in a band! she plays electric guitar! she's artistic! she paints, writes, draws, sings, dances, yearbook! she's like all the muses in one!!

- simon knows she's coming and looks!! and digs anything he can about her but he's mad. he can't find anything!! only school journals about a band with her in it named hopeless romantics and it's so annoying he complains to janae and janae is like leave her alone she's good and simon is like no she has to be shitty everyone is. also what kind of name is monalisa like she's a fucking painting

- but he meets her and they have lunch together because he wants to know clues to look for her but she's so. nice and offers her lunch and they talk about having a peanut allergy "is that peanut butter? thanks but i'm okay" "it's not. i actually have a billion allergies" "oh okay. weird you'd offer me your lunch" . also okay maybe she is a painting. whatever. shut up

- either she knows absolutely nothing or she hears things and is like oh well. i don't know i've known you for like five minutes i think you're okay i guess . i do hear you're an asshole though but i don't think so

- they have journalism together and they talk sometimes. it's sickening now nice she is but it's such a genuine change of pace to have someone so disconnected from the 'typical high school experience' of being online

- but simon is horribly depressed and has been. janae knows this and also thinks it's annoying how bright and sunshiney mona is but simon was somehow less insufferable after journalism sometimes. and janae feels like she has been talking him off the edge for years

- "i literally can't find anything about her. it pisses me off" "why can't you fathom every nice person isn't fake" "because it just can't be right"

- mona invites him to poetry reads or to hang out at her house and usually no one is home because they work. they watch movies or she teaches him to play music or they write. she absolutely insists she isn't in love with him but she is. her sister is a senior and her boyfriend also hates simon (threatens to kick in his teeth regularly) (her sister's name is ginerva. monalisas full name is monalisa demoiselle hughes. humiliating)

- she is his biggest cheerleader and hates that she makes him think. (abouthat route) asking him why he does it and why it matters so much because high school is so small and trivial but he hasn't known anything else. he was never popular but when he wrote people hated him. and he's been so mentally unwell. and then there's her. but he can't fathom the idea of admitting it out loud

- he abandons abouthat partially mostly because his time is. occupied with her and he isn't around other people (in the route he does keep it or do it)

- people bug him about not writing anymore and he says he's busy. he picks up guitar and sings with her and their little band is just the romantics. he says because he doesn't feel hopeless with her. they're just """"good friends""""" . she tells him she felt the same way at a point where he wanted to die like he did. it makes them both really unwell and. it makes him mostly unwell because living past high school feels surreal and now its summer.

- summer to san franciso. mona apologizes in advance because its gross but they go to san jose and santa cruz and meet her other bandmates. weird. he feels out of place but in the right place at the same time. everything feels right!!!???

- simon and mona senior year. homecoming. janae clowns on simon because they match. janae warms up to mona but only because they're polar opposites. she never wears darker colors but they wear dark green and people are like god who is this guy. is this not the same guy that leaked the post about everyone cheating on each other or started fights . homecoming just as friends. it's getting harder now.

- simon mona talent show with their little band. simon mona spending more and more time at each others houses. mona's sister's boyfriend no longer wants to kick his teeth in (most of the time). they're so grossly comfortable with each other it's second nature to follow each other home but more often than not they're at her house because his house feels cold and unwelcoming . he sleeps on their couch because her sister would blow up a building if they shared a bed

- janae is like dude. are you okay and he's like no oh my god i have not felt love or compassion from anyone except you and you're gay. this girl is ruining my life and i can't make it stop because she makes me wanna throw up and delete social media and never touch it again and lay in the sun and think of nothing else and i can't imagine killing myself now because i don't know how i can think of leaving her and our little band and heaven knows i'm miserable now because she's all i can think of

- janae clowns on him. edgelord . please tell her you like her. he's like no that's the problem i am in love with her and it makes me nauseated

- no. i'm good. what the fuck do you mean you're good you are not well simon.

- abouthat (if that's the route) gets wiped off the face of the earth and he like clears his entire social media and it's similar to mona's. no notifications. he doesn't bother with anyone's business. people still beef with him. but. he's like yeah that was douchey. i thought it was better to have people know the truth rather than not and i didn't approach it right. (i also think this would be the apology tour if he kept it a secret that he wrote for abouthat and she found out but this is his enlightened apology tour)

- mona simon applying to colleges together. haha what if we went to the same one. haha i would be so happy. haha. ha.

- senior trip to disneyland!!!! ahahah!! janae is like not thrilled to third wheel but . she's like just tell her. oh my god you both make me sick.

- simon says no thank you. fireworks with mona before they go. i'm really glad i met you. i'm glad i met you too. they both feel it but no one will take the plunge. they fall asleep on each other on the bus

- prom prom prom. they know theyre going to the same college. they opened their acceptance letters at the same time. prom!! she convinces him to wear florals and they look so cute together. janae can come too. she wants to throw up. cheesy prom pictures. she keeps asking when is the time right and he's like i don't know.

- they drop janae home late as hell and he comes to drop her off and shes like. just stay. it'll be like any of our other sleepovers. but it really isn't and they share her bed and fall asleep face to face holding hands. wake up. oh my god

- he leaves because he's like dude fuck this is too close. graduation is soon. we have exams and i cannot admit to her i like her. she wakes up really sad because she can't admit to him because it'll ruin their friendship. things are weird. janae is like why are you being emo again dude what the fuck

- i slept at her house and held hands and fell asleep talking about our feelings but i don't want to fuck it up. bro you are fucking it up right now

- finals and exams. nervous glances in journalism looking at each other. she is SAD. sad. like she cried sad. she cries easily and he knows that from movies and talks but she looks like she had been crying for days. janae bullies his ass again. go fix this or i'm gonna put my foot up your ass. ok fuck

- meet me at our spot. cafe bookstore called writers block. she doesn't answer he just shows up snd hopes she comes. he waits. and waits. granted he was early. she comes and she just looks sick. hey. hey. are you okay? i don't know. why did you leave? i was scared. scared of what? waking up there with me? no. then what simon. what. i don't know. i have never felt cared about the way you and your scary ass sister snd her boyfriend care about me. there's janae but you know. yes she's gay. i know simon.

- okay well. you make things not hopeless and i really do think i was going to kill myself and now i don't or can't imagine doing it now. and it's weird if you told freshman me i'd be in some two person band or picking colleges and going to dances i'd tell you you're fucking insane and that isn't who i am because everyone is fake and nobody can be honest. but you were. you were honest. and nice. and shared your stupid edamame with me and told me you were allergic to peanuts. our epipens looked the same. i thought you were too good to be true and i think i love you

- i love you. i hate that you left and i've been waiting for over a year to tell you i liked you or loved you because i didn't want you to think of me differently if you didn't like me that way. i was sick to my stomach you left without a word.

- i know. i'm sorry. i love you.

- i love you.

- graduation and college!!!!!

[babygirl-riley]

Bumps and Bruises*

The world can sleep in peace. Things are being built up once again. Months pass from the reign of Makarov, the team has went on with their lives.

Warnings: Pregnancy, SMUT, Oral Sex, Swearing, and Fluff.

3 Months Later…

My eyes opened with the sunlight hitting on them. I squeezed my eyes a couple of times before sitting up. I held my stomach, it was starting to be more round and firm. I rubbed it a couple times before looking over at the other side of the bed. “We need to get up ya?” I whispered looking down at tummy.

I pushed up and pushed down my shorts. Nothing fit me anymore besides leggings, Simon’s clothes, and gym shorts. I didn’t think my tummy would grow this big for 3 months. My sister told me it’s different for everyone and could be a boy. I walked out of the bedroom.

I looked over to have a big window that overlooked the city, Manchester. That’s where I wanted to stay for a while, get to know the area. My sister moved here for the air force and wanted me to be closer. I heard utensils clattering. “Bloody hell,” That deep British music. When I turned the corner Simon was washing a spoon. I cleared my throat and he snapped his head. He was wearing his balaclava, joggers, and hoodie. “Did I wake you?”

I shook my head lightly walking to a chair that was set for the island. Simon came around to help me, setting the cup of tea in front. “Rose tea love,” He started walking back to the kettle filling it back with water. “Made some when I got back.”

Simon has been making me tea to help my pregnancy hormones or side effects. When I was gassy one week, he bought varies of tea and we tried them out. Peppermint tea was the trick. So if I have any gas, cramping, nausea, or heart burn. I drink that. Lemon Balm helps my anxiety and irritation, or insomnia.

Those two are my favorite, food as been not so good for me. Nothing taste good but random mixes such as, peanut butter and Lays chips. That made Simon want to gag at times. However my personal favorite pesto noodles and spicy bean dip. Why? No idea.

I sighed taking in the scent and drank some of it. Simon watched and took his mask off, his hair was crazy, and he was sweaty. It made me immediately horny. That was another side effect. I want to fuck Simon all the time, no matter where or when.

I felt my face turn red and I turned away, sipping quickly. Simon turned back around when the kettle went off. “Simon,” I said looking back at him. “Purple.”

He froze and I saw his back tense. Purple was a code word for fuck me now. Simon turned around with a smirk. “I haven’t heard of that in a while Al.” His voice was deeper, he knew how much I loved his voice.

I squirmed a bit. “I am trying to control…” He walked around the island.

“No need. I love when you get like this.” He grabbed my hand and helped me up. “Where at?”

“Here.” I didn’t want to go anywhere else I wanted him here and now.

Simon just smirked and lifted me on the counter, kissing my neck. I spread my legs so he was in between them as he kissed up to my lips. “So beautiful,” He said in between kisses, they were soft but now it was desperate and heated. “Carrying my child.”

He rubbed my thighs, I sighed into him. “Fuck Simon.”

Simon started to pull down my shorts, I didn’t have anything under them. He sighed. “Naughty girl.” He whispered putting a finger on my clit feeling the wetness. He moaned. “Bloody hell Allison, so wet already.”

“Shut up.” I giggled but was replaced with a moan when he made tight hard circles.

Simon sighed. “Don’t worry love, I love this. You are more squirmy. Needy. Loud. Everything that I want to hear.” He knelt down as I gripped the counter panting hard and moaning loud.

Everything was more intense, anywhere he would touch would feel like sunburns, anytime he would fuck me it was like my orgasms were larger. It made me light headed. However Simon won’t fuck me anymore, which was fine, he just didn’t want to hurt me. The last time he did I was swore for so long and my back hurt. So we just ate each other out and I would suck him off.

I felt his tongue as he licked up my cum. “Fucking hell, always taste so good.” He was mumbling due to him in between my legs. His tongue would go into my hole sometimes. I squirmed, gasping and pulling his hair. Simon groaned loudly as I pulled hard. “Just like that Si.” I rocked my hips into his face.

Simon wrapped his arms around my legs to ground me down. His sleeves were up, I saw the tattoo that travelled up his arm, his veins that were more out since he was using his muscles. Fuck it made him even more hot. I started panting and arched my back. He inserted his fingers in my vagina.

The sounds that were following his movement of his hand was pornographic. He was feeling my walls clench around his fingers. “I’m…I…I’m close baby.” I said rocking faster as he was hitting that glory spot.

His tongue worked faster as he made slurping noises. Sucking on my clit and pumping his fingers fast. “Oh…Oh!” I screamed as my legs shook and my toes curled. I squeezed my eyes shut as my orgasm hit me like a truck.

I screamed his name as my back arched. He pumped his fingers in and out slowly helping me ride through my orgasm. He stood back up holding me up right. His fast glistening in my cum, he licked his lips and kissed me. I moaned into him as my hand led down to his cock.

Simon groaned as I palmed him through his pants. “We have your appointment soo…” My snaked my hand passed his joggers hem and boxers to grab his member.

I kissed his jaw as his head rolled on my shoulder. “Shh, it’s my turn.” He helped me off the table as I led him to the bedroom so I could sit on the bed and he would stand.

We kiss our way there, I sat on the bed while kissing his abdomen, pulling both his joggers and boxers to his ankles. He dick sprung out, the tip bright red with pre cum on his tip.

I smirked up at him and he rolled his half lidded eyes. “Shut up.” He was breather. It boosted my pride high up. Having him this wanting for my lips to suck his dick will always bring joy in my chest.

I giggled as I grabbed his dick pumping it in my hand. I went over his tip to grab some of his pre cum to help lather the rest of him. Simon groaned loudly as his hand laid behind his upper thigh, holding him up. “Fuck baby, I love when you look like this.” I whispered then ran my tongue up his shaft to then latch my lips to his tip.

I felt him shiver and gasped. “Fuck Allis…” He bucked when I slowly gagged myself with his cock.

He looked down at me grabbing a fist full of my hair. I bobbed back and forth as I went painfully slow for the both of us. Simon panted and moved his hips, having me almost take all of him. Tears brimming my eyes. “I am gonna fuck your mouth like it is your pussy ya?” He whispered in between groans.

I nodded since I did not want to detach my lips from him. “I won’t go too hard love.” He warned as he moved in and out of my mouth. It felt so good when his cock would hit the back of my throat. I would suck harder to the point my inner cheeks could rub against his shaft. His groaning became louder and his hips began to falter a bit more. I raised my hand to gently grab his balls.

I did that when we first stopped fucking and it made him wild. I came faster then I had ever seen him, right now he bucked. “Fuck princess…I…” He groaned as he stopped, I bobbed my head fast and sucked hard. He was pulling my hair signaling me to lay down.

I sucked him one last time making a pop sound as I laid back. Simon grabbed his dick and pumped in my thigh. I watched as his eyes rolled and his mouth gaped open. He called out my name as ropes of cum hit my thigh, I moaned at the sight of him.

Simon had sweat head off of his forehead, his muscles twitching as he came. His chest heaving, lungs begging for air. He groaned giving one last pump, he laid next to me as we both gasped for air. I was staring at the ceiling when I felt a flutter. It wasn’t like a butterfly feeling it was the baby. “I think we woke up the baby.” I giggled looking over at him.

“Good,” He turned his face to me. “Glad she didn’t hear us.”

“She?” I smiled, him being a daddy’s girl is something I would hope for.

Simon smiled the nodded. “Yeah I have a feeling.”

…………………………………………

Both Simon and I got dressed as we got ready for the check up. This one is what we find out if it is a girl or a boy. We didn’t want to do a gender reveal party since Simon didn’t like that type of attention. I didn’t want to plan a party anyways so what we planned on doing is just having the doctor tell us there.

The ride there was a comfortable quiet, he held my hand as he drove. Yelling at some other drivers calling them bloody donkeys. It was interesting living in the UK and learning all the language slangs. I enjoyed all of the people, they have been kind and open. Unlike in the states some have been not the same.

Since our apartment is close to the grocery store I walk there to still have some sort of exercise. I always talk to the two older couple (Agnes and Eugene) that are in charge of the store. They always seem to have a smile on their faces and would talk about how they remembered when Agnes was pregnant. She also told me what my sister told me was that it was a boy. When I told Simon he just chuckled and said that he would love for it to be a girl. However he would obviously love a boy too.

We pulled up the doctor’s pretty quick and was put into a room. They had me sit on a table with the ultrasound machine next to me. I started to get nervous as I chewed my inner lip. “What’s wrong?” Simon asked breaking my train of thought.

“Just nervous.” I said rubbing my stomach.

“For what?” Simon asked confusion in his eyes. He always wore a mask outside of our apartment. He told me it was for safety reasons and that he didn’t want anyone to know where he lived or recognize him. His balaclava didn’t have the signature skull painted on. It was just black.

However Simon did agree that he would have it off once the baby was born. He has been better of taking it off occasionally when going to the store with me or just going out for a walk. Some days of course he is more cautious, especially coming back from base. Price still has him going on missions until I hit my 9 month mark. Simon still had a job to do but Price knows he will also have one once the kid is born.

“I don’t know honestly.” I said looking at the monitor.

I heard his footsteps leave the window and stood next to me, placing his hand on my forehead. “Nothin to worry about love.”

I smiled looking into his eyes. His eyes were soft, softer than when I first met him, softer even a year ago. Ever since he came home after Makarov. More protective. More caring. More loving. He hasn’t said love you since Russia but he has shown his love. By actions and he is touchy inside the apartment. He doesn’t like PDA, when we have been out he will hold my hand when walking but that’s it.

“Alright,” The doctor said walking in with a smile on her face. She looked over at Simon and her face changed a quick second then disappeared. “Let’s check on this baby yeah?”

We both just nodded our head as she lifted my shirt until it was under my breasts. She put gloves on then proceeded to put the gel. It was cold and I jumped a bit and giggled. “Sorry.”

“No worries hun it’s so cold. I should have wanted ya,” The monitor was on and noise came through. She explained what we were looking for and wanting to hear. Once that was done she placed the scanner shading my stomach There was whooshing sounds then a heart beat. “Ah there is the baby!”

I smiled having my tears prickle my eyes. I turned to Simon who just focused on the screen. “Do you know the gender?” Simon asked looking down at me, there were water in his eyes but soon went away. I could tell he was happy.

“That one is a boy.” Both of our heads snapped.

“That one?” I asked looking back at the screen then her.

She nodded her head moving it slightly. Another heart beat, different sounding. “Yeah looks like you have twins,” She smiled at me looking both of us. “However, she is a girl.”

We both didn’t saw or even move. Twins? Holy fuck. I placed my hand on my mouth. “You sure?” I asked.

She giggled and pointed at the heads, the feet, the hands. She looked at Simon. “How are we feeling?”

Simon didn’t pry his eyes off of the screen. I looked up at him waiting. I grabbed his hand. “Baby?” I asked.

He looked down at me, tears breaking out of his eyes. “Twins?” He whispered.

I nodded my head, I couldn’t tell how he was feeling, I know it wasn’t anger. Fear? Anxious? “Twins.” I nodded.

Simon chuckled and looked at the screen then me. “A girl and a boy. Looks like both Agnes and I were right. I owe Soap 50 bucks.”

I laughed and shook my head as tears rolled down. “I will let you get cleaned up and we can go over what comes next.” The doctor said laughing as well.

When she left some took his balaclava off and placed his forehead on mine. “Twins.” He whispered looking into my eyes.

I smiled. “Twins.”

He lifted my chin to place a kiss on my lips. “I love you Allison. Always.”

OMG it has come to an end of the MW 3 story! I hope you have all enjoyed it as much as I loved to write it! I will have other projects running such as short stories in between the chapters of the timelines and I want to start doing reader inserts as well. I am hoping people will send some requests so I can write them for them. Haha. I am also going to do short stories of Dad!Simon and Mom!Allison with learning more on the TWINS! So if you haven’t read the other stories here is the link to my Masterlist! ;)

[aghostpost]

The Hard-J (Victor Creed x Reader)

A/N: I know I said it would be ready by the weekend but... it wasn’t! Excuses only work for those that make them, so I won’t bother lmao~ This one is for @queengiuliettafirstlady and everyone else that loves a little Victor Creed intensity. ♥

“Can we not do this today, please?”

“What the hell was that about?” He slammed the door after him as I went to my kitchen to put groceries away. 

“He saw me walking back from the store, that’s it.”

“That’s it, huh? What did I say about hangin’ out with him?”

“We weren’t hanging out! I told you, he saw me walking and he was helping me carry a few things. That. Is it.”

“You see how he talks to me? How he’s always talked to me-“

“-I see two brothers who, for whatever reason, can’t seem to hack it.”

“We aren’t brothers.”

I rolled my eyes, shoving my peanut butter and fudge swirl ice cream into the freezer. “Brothers in arms.”

“Because there’s no damn respect! Always lookin’ down at me like he’s some kinda fuckin’ superior.”

“Vic…”

“I don’t want you around him. You hear me?”

I let out an exasperated sigh as I rolled my eyes. “It’s too hot to argue about this shit.”

“You’re the one arguing instead of just agreeing, Y/N.”

“Your relationship with Logan is just that: yours. I have no problem with the guy.”

“If I see you two together again-“

“- Do not end that sentence with a threat, Victor-“

“- I’ll do you one better and end it with a guaran-fucking-tee!”

“We live in the same city, I’m bound to run into him sometimes!”

“Y/N look at me… Hey!” He shouted, making me jump out of my skin as I gave him my undivided attention. Clearly he was serious, which he tended to be. But this time, more serious than normal.

He was always so very dead serious whenever we talked about Logan.

“I don’t care if you’re next door neighbors with him. If I see you two with each other again, it will not end well.”

“For him? Or for me?”

“Both o’ you.”

I stared him down and watched him do the same, his face cold hard steel, not even a muscle flexing as he spoke to me. “What the hell happened between you two, anyway?” I asked. “What did he do that’s so damn bad you’re forbidding me to even say hi? He kill your cat or somethin’?”

He smirked and let out a huff of a chuckle, his left fang peeking from behind his lips. “You think I’m kiddin’?”

I rolled my eyes and pushed him away from me to continue putting the food away. “Yeah, sure. Whatever. I’ll stay away from him, Victor. Whatever the hell makes-” I couldn’t finish my sentence before I heard the loud crash of glass breaking. I whipped around and saw a wet puddle dripping on my wall, the floor beneath it decorated with broken glass and what was a very nice bouquet of assorted flowers. “Are you shitting me?!”

“Oh, I got your attention now?”

“You had it! You’re throwing a temper tantrum, breaking my shit, all because you’re jealous of someone I’m not even interested in?”

“Jealous?” he questioned as he slowly stalked towards me, like a predator carefully eyeing its prey. I was no stranger to Victor's temper; under the right circumstances, he could go from settled to up in flames with the snap of a finger. Maybe it’s because he was never really at ease, always ready to pounce at any moment’s notice if necessary. Yeah, I know he has little patience and is kinda trigger happy to get into a fight, his own source of entertainment. But that was with other people, strangers. With me, he exercised a lot more restraint. We’d have arguments, he’d yell, maybe hurt a wall and then storm off.

But whenever Logan was involved, it was a different story...

“You need to relax,” I warned as I slowly backed away from him, ready to defend myself if necessary, even if I knew it was a losing battle. 

“Did you just say I was jealous of him?”

“Are you?”

“What reason do I have to be jealous?”

“You tell me. What is it, Vic? You think I’m gonna run off with him into the sunset? You come over here one day to see me, all my shit is packed up and I leave a note behind? I doubt he’d throw my shit around like you just did.”

“I bought you those damn flowers,” he growled.

“You gonna buy the replacements too?” I asked playfully, trying to diffuse the tension but failing. It was painfully obvious, literally, he wasn’t in the mood to play when I felt his fist grip me like a boa constrictor. He forced my head against the kitchen cabinet behind me and got close to my face. If he moved any closer he’d be able to taste the chive cream cheese bagel I had on the way over here. 

“Now that all depends…”

“Victor, let go of me. Now.”

“What’s the matter, hm? I thought you liked it rough?” he spoke with a tone of warning before a lecherous grin spread across his face. I’d be lying if I said it didn’t release a flutter deep in my belly, my incessant desire for him threatening to surface. It was embarrassing and admittedly disgusting to me, how even in moments as such, there was always going to be some shred of me that could neither ignore nor deny my constant thirst for him to satisfy me in ways only Victor knew how.

“You’ve made your point.” I tried to remain calm while fighting for air. I was willing to bet money that he could feel my pulse quickening beneath his grip. If even one of his claws came out I’d be bleeding out all over the linoleum.

“Have I?”

“You have five seconds to get the fuck off of me... or I walk.” He stared me in the eye only a few seconds longer before relinquishing his grip. If there was anything I caught on to in the seven months we’ve been seeing each other, if that’s even what you wanna call him dropping by for food, sex and quality conversation with a solid night’s rest, it’s that he actually greatly enjoyed having me in his life. He would never admit it, of course, being the poster boy for hypermasculinity; no way he’d display the level of emotion required to confess he liked me. But I picked up on it in subtle ways he probably doesn’t even notice. The way he throws his arm over me in his sleep, subconsciously keeping me in place with him. The way he came over and pretended it was just for sex, when we wouldn’t wind up having sex at all. The flowers he bought me, before throwing them to the wall in a rage. Most importantly, the way he wouldn’t stay gone long after a fight and would come back with his tail tucked in ready to apologize, afraid that would be the fight that finally scared me off and into the arms of someone else. I wasn’t using that to my advantage here, but I was letting him know what we both knew but never spoke of:

He wanted me around. He liked me.

I took a moment to allow oxygen to return to my lungs before I addressed him. “I pushed a button o’ yours with that little J-word?”

“What on Earth gave you that idea?” he asked sarcastically.

I nodded. “Fine. Noted. But I promise you, next time you use your words, because if you ever think about putting your hands on me again-”

“-Now you’re ending sentences with threats?”

“Guarantees, right?” I stalked to the corner of the kitchen and grabbed the broom that was wedged between the wall and my fridge then slammed it into his chest. “Dust pan behind the fridge,” was all I said before making my way to the bedroom.

“We’re not done-”

“-I am.” The moment I turned the corner out of the kitchen he was following me, the broom loudly clapping against the kitchen floor. The same hand that was just wrapped tightly around my throat was now finding its way around my waist along with his other one, pressing me to the wall. “Victor-“

“-I’ll getcha new flowers.”

“Fuck the flowers and fuck you.” He wasn’t hearing any of it. He grabbed my wrists and began making his way to the couch, my legs clumsily bumping into any and everything I walked towards. 

“I’m not gonna pour my heart out an’ tell you all the fucked up things about me, if that’s what you’re waitin’ for me to do.”

“Mutant in human world. It’s not hard to figure out.”

“And I’m not tellin’ you the textbook of reasons I’m not holdin’ hands with him either.”

“And I’m not agreeing to stay away from him for your reasons and personal grudges unknown.”

“So maybe I didn’t make myself as clear as I thought.” Before I was aware the back of my legs bumped into the arm of my couch. I was desperate to create some sort of distance between us, so I fell backwards and wiggled away to the far opposite end of the couch. He stood at my feet and without breaking eye contact, lifted the loose black henley from his chest. He was possibly the only person I knew that could wear black and long sleeves in the peak of a summer in the city without breaking a sweat. But now wasn’t the time to be impressed by minor things.

“It’s too hot for this, too.”

“You tellin’ me no?”

“Yes!”

“Why?” he asked as he continued advancing in my direction, fumbling with the belt on his jeans as he kicked his shoes off.

“Because I don’t feel like it. You’re not about to makeup sex your way out of putting your hands on me, dick.”

He shrugged to himself. “You never turned it down before.”

“Well, you know what they say the definition of insanity is, right…”

“Doin’ the same shit, expecting different results.”

“And I want different results, Victor.”

“Fine. So let’s try somethin’ different.” Without a word or warning he bent down and scooped me up, a hand firmly resting under each of my thighs, my legs snaked around his waist. I thought he was headed towards the bedroom, but he took a surprising left turn to the apartment balcony, gripping me tightly before using a hand to open the sliding glass door. The humidity instantly smothered me, my glasses fogging from the shock of being exposed to the summer heat after leaving my air conditioned living room. He sat in one of the wicker seats of my patio set and placed me in his lap, lifting my sundress so I could straddle him free of obstruction. He placed me directly onto his cock and was not gentle about it; my head instantly fell back as a rush of air escaped my chest, my hands finding his neck. 

“Fuck,” I whispered.

“Exactly.”

“Shut the hell up.” There was no time for playful banter. The sun had only just started to set, meaning there was still plenty daylight for us to be seen; this had to be quick. And quiet. Quiet would be the hard part without a doubt. With his help, I lifted my body up and down, his fingertips digging into my hips as he held tightly to my waist. “Holy shit, Vic.”

“Still think I’m jealous?”

I grinned to myself. “I dunno; you’re fuckin’ me like you got somethin’ to prove,” I teased. Clearly there was jealousy but I knew better than to answer him with a yes. But if jealousy is this good a sexual motivator, I’d be happy with this silver lining to our fight. He lifted my dress up more, enough for him to expose my tits and seize my right one with his mouth. My head fell back, a cry escaping me when I felt the sharp stab of his teeth on the mound of flesh. “Fuck!” He growled, his mouth vibrating slightly around my nipple. 

“Ya still gonna run away and leave a note?” he asked, the heat from his mouth making toes curl.

“Never.” Unless he pushed me to it, of course. 

I felt the pads of his fingertips press my scalp, my hair tightly intertwined in his digits as he pulled my head back and forced me to make eye contact. “Don’t threaten to walk again.”

I rolled my eyes. “Or else?” I mocked.

He shook his head, his pelvis ceasing, the rapid rise and fall of our chests the only movement remaining between us. “No. Just don’t.”

I stared at him a moment longer and simply nodded before standing and turning around, lifting my dress over my head, then taking the rusty balcony rail in my hands to steady myself. I turned to look at him; to my surprise he was already stroking himself in the absence of something else warm wrapped around his cock. “Whatcha waitin’ for?”

“Can’t enjoy the view?”

“Enjoy it any longer and I’m gonna melt.”

“Someone other than me hungry for it?” he said with a hard slap to my right cheek before roughly re-entering from behind, making me jerk forward into the hot metal rail. I grunted at the pain in effort not to be too loud and settled comfortably on him, my body fitting him like a glove. He was in no way gentle as he thrust himself in and out of me, primal grunts escaping his chest every time his hips rammed into my ass. My tits would surely be bruised the way I was uncomfortably pressed into the railing. I stared at the rusted and flaking metal coating of the bars beneath my arms and fought to keep my legs from collapsing beneath me, every bone in my limbs turning to apple sauce, my muscles sore and aching. If only this kind of workout kept me in shape and was doctor recommended. And quiet as I was, there was nothing I could do to muffle the loud smack that echoed in the air when Victor got slap happy, or the sound that came from my mouth as a result. The funny thing was, the more I tried to shush him, the more intensely he fucked me, and the more sound we both ended up making. 

“Sss, holy fuck! Fuck fuck fuck, Vic! Shit!” I cried out, the restraint I had for my volume loosening. On a slower day I would have had a bit more self control, but I never lasted long, or quietly, when he was in a more animalistic mood.

“Mm, that’s right,” he grunted, digging his fingers into my hip bones. “Lemme have it, baby.” And before I knew it I did exactly that. My legs gave out beneath me and I fell to my knees, failing to hold myself up on the balcony railing any longer as I came. My moans were beyond stifling, and I felt nothing else, not even the pools of sweat pouring out of me. For just a moment I’d fallen into a deep well of ecstasy, my head throbbing from the mix of summer heat and pleasure, before I regained some composure to return the favor. 

I grabbed the thin cushion from my patio chair and placed it at his feet and knelt before him, taking him into my mouth as deep as I could. As hungrily as I could. Without hesitation his hands flew to my head, cradling the back of my skull and maneuvering me to a pace of his pleasure. “Atta girl,” he encouraged. He knew I was a sucker for praise, and after being a complete asshole I was expecting him to lay it on with the ass kissing for the rest of the evening. Now he had me working like I was the jealous one, when really I was only in competition with myself; I wanted to see if I could make him cum quicker than any of the other times I did this. I worked my head in a swivel and both of my hands in opposing twisting motion, pulling him into me as far as I could without biting off more than I could chew. It was useless, however, since Victor was determined to push my head down way past my limits. His hips undulated as he thrust his dick deeper and deeper into my throat. He’d momentarily pause and hold his place before pulling out to allow me to draw air, all before repeating the process. “Look at me,” he demanded, which was all he needed to say for me to know what time it was. I stared upwards at him with his cock still in my mouth, my eyes glassy with tears, and he pushed himself deep into my throat one final time and pumped the tip of his dick at the back of my throat. He held eye contact for as long as he could before his head fell backwards, eyes slamming shut as I felt the muscles of his thighs tighten. He grunted a low, beastlike growl before I felt him release all he had to offer in my throat, the sensation slightly tickling. I slowly jerked his dick off for good measure to ensure I got him for every drop before swallowing the thick, sticky fluid, swirling my tongue around his tip before he removed himself from my mouth. 

“Ah, Jesus fuck,” he sighed, his chest rising and falling as he tried to recover.

“I think I missed that Sunday school lesson.” He rolled his eyes and looked down at me, head still resting in his lap, before rising and extending a hand. I grabbed and he pulled me up, coming face to face with him and the wild grin plastered on his face. “Back inside before my ass gets covered in bug bites.”

“I could scratch it for ya,” he offered, running a claw harmlessly up my spine. I shivered and pushed away from him before round two threatened to begin, sliding the balcony door open, relieved once the ice cold air conditioning hit my chest.

“No thanks. But you absolutely can buy me another bouquet of flowers. And a vase, while you’re at it.”

[hintofelation99]

Jason Chaperons Damian's Field Trip

Damian and Jason in the Batcave trying to murder each other

Jason: I'm going to kill you demon brat!

Damian: Ha! I'd like to see you try Todd!

Fighting continues for the next two days

Bruce: That's it! Jason, Damian, no more fighting. You two are going to bond even if it kills you!

Jason: Again?

Bruce: Not the time Jason!

Damian, rolling his eyes: And how exactly do you expect me to bond with this barbarian?

Bruce: A trip to the art museum.

Damian and Jason look confused.

Bruce: Damian's class is going to the Gotham art museum next Friday. I was going to chaperon, but since you both decided to try and stab each other in public I have some PR matters to attend to. So, Jason will chaperon.

Damian: That is absolutely ridiculous father. Is it not enough that I am already forced to see subpar art with snot nosed brats? Now I have to take the zombie?!

Jason: Watch it brat!

Damian: Tt

Jason and Damian glare at each other.

Bruce: No, your brother is taking you to see world renowned art with your peers.

Jason: C'mon Bruce, world renowned? It's the Gotham art museum.

Bruce, glaring: Fine. Country renowned.

Jason raises his eyebrows.

Bruce: Don't push it. I'll call the school and let them know that you're taking my place.

--> The Next Friday <--

Jason: Damian! Get your ass down here!

Damian: I am right beside you Todd.

Jason: Where's your tie? And your blazer? Where's your backpack?

Damian: Calm down Todd. I have never been late for school and I do not plan to deviate from that today.

Jason: Whatever. Just be ready in the next five minutes, I want to get coffee first and we are not going to be late.

Damian: Pennyworth has already brewed a pot of that infernal drink.

Jason: And Tim has already called dibs on the entire pot. That kid is scrawny, but when it comes to coffee he's vicious.

Damian: Tt.

-------

Damian: STOP THE CAR RIGHT NOW TODD!

Tires screech as Jason whips into a parallel parking spot in front of the school. Damian's entire class watches this happen. They look terrified.

Damian, jumping out of the car, cursing in Arabic: Are you trying to murder me?!

Jason, casually getting out of the car with a Frappuccino, shrugs: I told you we wouldn't be late.

Damian: WE ARE THIRTY MINUTES LATE!!

Jason, shrugs: Oops.

-------

Teacher: Ok class! This is Jason Todd, he is Damian's older brother and he will be helping out on the field trip today. I expect you all to be on your best behavior today! Now Mr. Todd, would you like to tell us a little about yourself?

Jason, feet on a desk not paying attention, glaring at Damian.

Teacher: Mr. Todd?

Jason chokes on Frappuccino, stands up.

Jason: Uh, yeah, sure. Um, my name is Jason Todd, feel free to just call me Jason. Uh, what else?

Teacher: Maybe give us a fun fact about yourself?

Jason: Sure, sure. Uh I recently spent some time down under.

Teacher: Oh, in Australia?

Jason: Yeah, let's go with that.

Damian facepalms

-------

On the bus, kids screaming and throwing things at each other. Damian and Jason sit at the front near Damian's teacher. Jason has his eyes closed and looks tense.

Teacher: Uh, Mr. Todd? Jason? Are you alright?

Jason: Just peachy.

Damian: Pull it together Todd. You are embarrassing me.

Jason: Listen demon spawn, I'm trying to keep it together and not maim a rich brat. So why don't you shut up.

Damian: Tt. Everyone knows you are too cowardly to maim a child. However, I do admit that the loud and confined environment could cause stress... Here. Take these.

Damian hands Jason headphones. Jason looks confused.

Damian: Grayson claims that music can have a calming affect.

Jason: ...Thanks brat.

-------

Teacher: Ok class we are here! Remember to stick with your groups. Group one is with me. Group two is with Mrs. Smith. And group three is with Jason.

Kids break into groups, each group has seven kids.

Jason: Group three over here!

Damian rolls his eyes as the other six kids approach.

Jason: Be nice. Ok kiddos, we're starting at the uh American Rural Avant Garde exhibit. What the fuck is that crap?

Teacher: Oh my! Um, Mr. Todd. We do not encourage such strong language.

Jason: Wha- oh! You mean crap, so teach' that's my bad.

Teacher: Uh, no I uh-

Jason: Anyway c'mon demons let's go look at shitty art.

Teacher, chanting under their breath: The Wayne's donate a lot of money. The Wayne's donate a lot of money.

-------

In the cubism section.

Kid 1: Mr. Todd! When's lunch?

Jason: Call me Jason kid, and it's only ten? Lunch isn't until one.

Kid 2: But I'm hungry!

Kid 3: And this is boring!

Jason: It's not that bad, look at this thing! It's- oh shit is that a Picasso?

Kid 4: Uh, yeah?

Jason: Fuck that asshole, let's go get ice cream.

Damian: Todd! That is not in the schedule, we can not skip a section just because you dislike the artist!

Jason: See, that's were you're wrong baby bird. I'm in charge and I say that Picasso is an asshole and we're skipping his shit.

Damian: We are already in trouble with father, if we exhibit bad behavior he might force us to spend more time together.

Jason: Look kid, Bruce sent me here because he wants us to bond. The greatest form of bonding is breaking rules and skipping school. So, really, by skipping we're actually doing what he wants.

Damian: Tt. I suppose that sounds accurate.

-------

Jason: Time for lunch kiddos.

Kid 2: But we just finished our ice cream break?

Jason: No, we just finished the seeing the museums second floor. Right?

Kid 6: No we-

Jason: No no, we finished the second floor. The whole ice cream thing, that's our little secret. Right?

Kids: Ohhhhh

Jason: Now you're getting it!

-------

Damian glares at his lunch

Jason: What's wrong kiddo?

Damian: Tt. It appears that I might have, accidentally, taken Drake's lunch instead of my own.

Jason: And? What's the problem?

Damian: Drake, packed that abomination that he calls a sandwich.

Jason: Oh, god. He packed a peanut butter pepperoni sandwich again?

Damian, looking at the lunch with complete disgust: Yes.

Jason: Here, take my PB&J.

Damian: ...

Jason: Timbits taste in sandwich's is a crime against humanity. But I'm not vegan, so if worst comes to worst I'll eat it.

Damian: ...Thank you Todd. I- I did not think you cared about my dietary choices.

Jason: Just because we fight sometimes doesn't mean I won't have your back kid. Yeah, I guess being vegan is a choice, but it's a choice that I'll always support.

Damian quickly hugs Jason before taking his sandwich and pretending nothing happened.

Damian: I appreciate the support. Thank you, brother.

Jason: No problem baby bird.

-------

Jason: So, we have an hour before we have to get back on the bus. And, uh- oh shit! Ok, so apparently we had an assignment. Uh, the instructions say to draw your favorite work and write why you like it. What the fuck kind of bullshit assignment is that?

Jason: Uh, ok we're doing a speed draw. Everyone just pull up your favorite work on the museum website and try your best.

--> 40 Minutes Later <--

Jason: Ok, hand me your sheets and let's head to the bus.

Damian, hands his assignment in.

Jason: Whoa, huh.

Damian, looking nervous: What Todd?

Jason: Nothing, just this is a really good drawing kid.

Damian blushes: Of course it is.

Jason smiles and ruffles Damian's hair: Good job brat.

Damian smiles and heads to the bus

------

Both in the car, about to drive back to the manor.

Jason: You know, I actually sorta had fun today.

Damian: Your presence was... enjoyable.

Jason: We're never telling that to Bruce, right?

Damian: Obviously, if father thinks that his plan worked he will be completely insufferable.

Jason: Agreed. Y'know, sometimes field trips go long.

Damian: Oh?

Jason: Yeah, I mean, it wouldn't be too weird if we were an hour or so late getting home.

Damian: If we were to be late getting home, how would we spend that time?

Jason: There's a cool arcade that should be open right now.

Damian: I do not believe that I have ever been to an arcade.

Jason: Well, that needs to be fixed right now. You down baby bird?

Damian: I- uh I am down, is that the correct usage of the term?

Jason: Hell yeah.

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

Based on this headcanon.

[libidinous-weeb]

Just Because (Bakugou x Reader)

Tags: 18+, dub-con/non-con (but it’s got a lighthearted(ISH) ending), overstim, degradation, mind break (kind of??? i guess?? not really), unspecified gender but reader has a puthy

Summary: Reader is a villain and annoyed that Dynamight won’t get off their ass when they do crime. So they capture him and decide to fuck about it. This started as me just wanting to lewd Bakugou in a discord server, but as per usual, i got carried away.

enjoy. or don’t. your choice ig lol. also not beta’d so sorry the capitalization is stupid.

when you perch your self on top of Dynamight’s lap, he’s confused at first. when you slide so close you’re sitting on his crotch, he starts to get the picture. he wants to ask you what the fuck you’re doing but he’s suddenly tongue tied. he’s confused about what you’re doing as he tries to wriggle away, but you don’t let him up. you have him on a bed somewhere, with his legs bound and his wrists trapped in quirk canceling handcuffs.

you start to grind on his cock, moaning quietly in his ear. he vaguely knows you, and you’re making him so hard, harder than he swears he’s ever been in his life. he vaguely knows you, and you’re making him so hard, harder than he swears he’s ever been in his life. he’s so embarrassed you have this effect on him. he’s Dynamight! a big time hero! he should have control over this situation, and someone like you with your soft lips and even softer thighs and perfect little ass that rubs up against him in the best way possible...you shouldn’t be the one that’s able to make him lose his iron like grip on his self control.

when you shove your tongue down his throat, it shouldn’t feel this good. he shouldn’t be moaning like a goddamn girl. he shouldn’t feel so good that part of his mind goes blank when you touch and kiss him. he shouldn’t get so flustered and his face shouldn’t be turning cherry red just because of some fucking extra. he shivers, and tries to fight the urge to tilt his head back as your hands move from his chest down lower and lower...

when you finally touch him through his pants, he bites his lip, hard. it’s just your hand, but it feels amazing. you aren’t even directly touching him, and he feels like some kind of pathetic teenager. he starts hoping you don’t notice how his hips are slowly rolling towards your touch.

“H-Hey! Stop—I said stop it!” he cries out, as your mouth moves from his lips to his neck where you kiss and suck and bite.

“I’m gonna have so much fun breaking you like this,” you whisper in his ear. “You’re not—you can’t...be thinking you’re gonna—“ you cut him off. “I’m gonna fuck you. Hard. And you’re gonna beg me to let you cum. I’ve wanted you inside me for so long, and I’m finally gonna make it happen. You’re not gonna stop me—you can’t. I’m gonna make you cum over and over again, no matter how much you beg me to stop.” his eyes widen a bit in surprise. “Y-You what? Why? Fucking cut it out! Let me go, you fucking freak!” he feels trapped, panicked. still, he’s not scared of you. he’s scared of the effect you have on him.

he’s kissed before. had sex, even (not often, but he’d die before he ever admitted that out loud), so why does it feel like he’s on fire right now? why does his body want this so badly when he doesnt? you pull his shirt over his head and bunch it up by his hands, which are restrained with the cuffs. then you slide your hand down his pants as your mouth moves to his nipples.

“Fuck, n-not there...” his nipples were sensitive and you sucking and teasing and biting at them makes him feel like he’s going to lose his goddamn mind. you aren’t even jerking him off, just groping his dick while you toy with his chest. he’s trying (and failing) to steady his voice while he yells at you. “S-Stop fucking...touching me already!” his voice is loud but it trembles when it escapes him. the way he lies beneath you, eyes clenched shut, his face hot and red, panting and trying to turn his face away from you as if the sight of you is too much for him...it’s too fucking hot. the way quiet moans slip out between words and the way he’s biting his lip to keep himself quiet...it’s all too irresistible. you need to have him, now. you slide his pants down and position yourself over his dick. “Don’t fucking—“ you cut him off with a harsh slap to the face, then grab him by his chin. “Shut. Up.” you momentarily stun him into silence as his eyes meet yours.

you hold his cock steady as you slide down on him and his eyes roll to the back of his head as a loud, desperate moan leaves him. “F-Fuck, wait! I can’t—!“ he cums. Dynamight, the pro hero, cums the second he bottoms out for the first time like a goddamn virgin. he gasps as his orgasm rushes out of him, surprising you both. he gets even redder still, something you didn’t think was possible. he keeps his eyes shut, brows furrowed as he tries to catch his breath. you laugh. “Well, well, well, what do we have here? Big bad Bakugou’s so pathetic that my pussy makes him cum in under 30 seconds? Not so scary now, are you? Where’d all that attitude go? Come on, let’s see it!”

he still doesn’t open his eyes. he’s made of tougher stuff than this. he shouldn’t be brought to his knees by some extra’s fucking pussy. even with the way you slammed down on him out of nowhere. you’re just so tight and hot and soft and feel so fucking perfect...

his eyes shoot open in desperation when you start moving. “W-Wait! I can’t! I-I really can’t! Do-Don’t fucking—nnhg...fuckfuckfuck, stop fucking moving!” you wrap your hand around his throat and apply pressure. he’s grimacing now, all angry and squirmy, trying to free himself from you. you look him directly in the eyes as you choke him.“I told you. You’re not gonna stop me. I decide when it’s over. I’ve just gotten started. I’m gonna make you cum over and over and over again. And you’re gonna lie there and let me. You don’t have a choice. Got it?” you start gyrating your hips, fucking him in earnest. you keep your hand on his throat, letting him breathe but reminding him who’s in control.

he clenches his hands into fists, legs and body shaking as you take what you want from him. he bites his lips so hard to keep himself quiet that he draws blood. you kiss him and clean it up with your tongue as you run it over his lips. his cock feels like it was made for you, long and curved and thick. he still won’t look at you as you keep fucking him, getting close to your first orgasm. “I’m gonna—I’m gonna cum!” instinctively, katsuki opens his eyes and looks at you. you sitting atop him, back arched, breasts pushed forwards, thighs shaking, head thrown back with bliss written across your face...

“AAAAH FUCK!” katsuki cums again. it hurts but it feels so good. despite the fact that he hates this, he can’t deny how fucking hot you look, perched on top of him, cumming all over his cock. “You-You got what you wanted...right? so get-get the fuck off of-mmmh-off of me.”

you open your eyes. katsuki sees how hazy they look as you regain the ability to form words again. “N-No. Not done yet. Wanna come more.” Your airy, lighthearted chuckle confirms what katsuki had suspected. you’re fucked out but still drunk with lust. your first orgasm made you only want more. you started moving your hips again.

“F-Fucking shit...fuck...”at some point, bakugou couldn’t think anymore. he didn’t know up from down. the only thing that mattered was you, your fucking pussy, and how much your torture hurt in the best way possible. he stopped begging you to stop and started babbling about how good it felt, and how perfect you are. “God, FUCK you feel so fucking good, fuck, don’tstopdon’tstopdon’tstop. Please. Just keep fucking me, pleasegodpleasepleasepleaseyesyesyes—FUCK! Fuck, it feels so good. Love it, I fucking love it, FUCK! I’ll do whatever you want, just don’t fucking stop, please! FUCK, I can’t stop cumming, I can’t! I fucking love you, fucking love your pussy, fucking love, FUCKING YOU!”

when your hips gave out and you slumped over his chest, bakugou slid his cuffed hands behind you and flipped you both over. “Don’t fucking stop, pleasepleaseplease—“ you were in the same state as he was. you positioned his cock to your hole as he forced it inside you. your legs shook as he started thrusting in you, short sharp movements like a fucking dog. he was so desperate he was humping you like a fucking dog, and you loved it. “please bakugou, dynamight, katsuki, please fuck me more. i want it so bad, please! fuck, it still feels so fucking good, you and your perfect fucking cock, fucking me up over and over and over again—“

when you finally decided to stop you had both made yourself cum so many times you lost count. bakugou’s cock hurt. he’d cum so much he’d started having dry orgasms. and you were a mess. your pussy was sore. you’d squirted and dripped all over his cock so much there was a puddle underneath you both. you tried to stand but your legs kept shaking. the cuffs around bakugou’s wrists made a beeping sound and then opened, but neither of you registered it.

by the time both of you had regained some sense, you had sat up, and reached into a bedside table near the mattress in the abandoned warehouse you had him in. you shakily handed him a bottle of water as you grabbed one for yourself and did the same with some vending machine peanut butter crackers or some shit. You didn’t look that closely when you bought them. “Here. This is all I got right now. Take it.” without thinking, bakugou reached out to take them, then froze as he looked at his unrestrained hand dumbly. “How...?” “S’ on a timer. Wasn’t gonna kidnap you forever.” he blinked, then took your offering. you both sat in silence as you ate. you pulled out a large sharp knife from the same drawer and katsuki immediately tensed, worried you were going to attack him. “Hey. Here.” you handed him the knife. he stared at it, then you, then stared back at the knife. “It’s to free your legs, stupid.” he stared at you. “What? I’m a villain, but I’m not a monster, Katsuki. Not my fault you’re so fuckin irresistible.”

“You...You’re not gonna kill me?” “Nah. Just wanted to fuck ya. And it was totally worth it. you can arrest me now or whatever. Oh, and there’s some clothes for you in this drawer too, and some baby wipes. No shower though.” you sniff your armpit. “Eugh. Didn’t think to bring deodorant.” katsuki looks to you, and blinks at you owlishly. he finally speaks. “W-What the fuck was that? Why—How—“

“Reasons.” you say, and leave it at that.

[seostudios]

mark’s dad.

pairing: johnny x fem!readr

genre: fluff + smut (like little angst) info: dilf!johnny, son!mark, best-friend!mark, aged-up!johnny warnings: age gap, unprotected sex, masturbation (fem) wc: 2.1k

note: hi i wrote this on my phone at like 1-3 in the morning... sorry if it’s bad but i wanted to put out something! i hope you guys enjoy it though cause dilf!johnny is so sexy

i think my son ditched you for haechan today, dear.” mr.suh informed you as you stood respectively in front of him, wearing an oversized sweater and basketball shorts. “aw man, i drove all this way for a movie with mark, and he ditched me for his other best friend...” you quietly sneer, the obvious jealously making an appearance. johnny chuckled, hands resting on his hips. he felt bad you came all this way for a simple movie night. “how about this?” your eyes look up, to the terrifyingly good looking man. “i will treat you to a movie and popcorn!” he suggested, knowing very damn well he’s going out of his way to possibly spend time with his son’s best friend, who he has known since they were sewed to the hip in sophomore year, now in university. “i-i don’t think that’s be appropriate,” “why? because i’d like to spend time and get to know the friend and possible love interest of my son? i don’t see any harm in that. i’ll get my coat.” he quickly responded, saving himself.

you knew he said you’d watch a movie together but you didn’t expect to get yourself two tickets to go watch a movie at an actual theatre. “that was amazing mr.suh-“ johnny looks down at your tiny figure holding the popcorn, “-i mean johnny!” if you’re being honest now, it was really nice getting to know johnny, besides the age difference and the possible complications with your amazing friendship with his son, you liked him. making your way over to his car, you listen on as he rambles about how he hasn’t this much of an outing since mark was in high school. “now he’s clinging onto me like we’re dudes, like i’m his dad not his bro.” he laughed, starting the car. “that’s so sweet though!! my mom never gave an effort to trying to be my friend even when i tried,” although you kind of party pooped the mood, you can literally reverse uno it right there. “but whatever!! she still brings me shopping which is good enough,”

nearing midnight and you know god damn well your mom would’ve killed you if she knew you took a taxi home alone in the middle of the night. johnny picked up on this, and even if he saw you in a new light today, a light which could possibly ruin his relationship with his son and a possible one with you, he couldn’t have let you home alone. “you know what? marks sleeping over at haechan’s anyway. i’ll call your mom and tell her you should stay over.” nodding, you let yourself in and up into his (messy) bedroom.

“hope you enjoy peanut butter and jelly for dinner, i kind of forgot to buy groceries...” johnny said handing you a plate of mini sandwiches. you mutter a quick thanks before digging in. tonight you saw johnny not as mr.suh but as johnny, the hot ass mother fucking dilf of the neighbourhood. you thought you were just a regular teenager to him, but you thought wrong. feeling his gaze on your exposed neck, lips. how his breathing would quicken whenever you leaned in to grab another sandwich. “wanna watch america’s got talent?” you asked pointing towards the couch. he shrugs agreeing, “why not?”

you had insisted on cleaning the dishes, i mean it was the least you could do. “so what’s the point of this whole show? to humiliate people or actually scout out people?!” johnny questioned staring at the screen, not noticing how you went from being on opposite ends of the couch to being almost inches away. should you initiate something? no, that would be overstepping into something erasable.

“this is so wrong,” you tell yourself before abruptly standing up. johnny turns his attention to you, trying to foreshadow your next moves. however, he didn’t expect for you to turn back around and straddle on his lap, “whoa..” he said, gripping onto your hips. “i want you.” his mind goes blur momentarily, “i-i cant, your my son’s best friend...” god, you looked so hot with your shorts bunched up as far as they could as you slowly grinder down onto his (huge) clothed cock. “fu..fuck,” he moans aloud, pushing all thoughts aside except for the one that kept telling him to ruin you tonight. the night was going better than planned, since you were in straddled on a topless johnny with only your bra and shorts on... probably a good twenty five minutes into kiss play, but mark chose the best time to unintentionally cockblock you and his dad. “y/n!!”mark shouted through the phone loud enough for johnny to hear (and the speaker wasn’t even on!) “yes markie?” you cooed, using one hand to speak on the phone and the other to signal johnny to keep it quiet. your hands trailed overtop your breasts, cupping them through your bra and pinching your hardened nipples, soon bringing your cold fingers down to the waistband of your shorts. “it’s fine. we can always watch a movie next weekend, i literally see you everyday! go hang out with hyuck,” you encouraged. past the waistband and under the hello kitty panties your hand comes in contact with your sensitive (dripping) folds. “a-ah, m..mark i gotta go...” “are you getting laid or something? i’m out.” he quickly ends the phone and you made sure to turn on ‘do not disturb’ incase he calls again.

“go on, i’ll watch.” johnny said seductively observing you as you toyed with your sensitive clot. “i’m close johnny!” you quietly moan into his ear, rubbing faster. “cum on your fingers, now.” he ordered, feeling you twitch underneath him, grinding as you had an orgasm. “dirty girl...” he groans watching you pull your fingers up to suck dry. now, you were a filthy girl, tasting yourself without being told to, cumming in your panties which you knew damn might have to force you to go commando tonight in marks bed. it was like a slap in the face when johnny lifted you up to stand, “it’s late. i- we should head to bed... i can give you some new shorts... since you know,” he quickly stammered before swiping his shirt off the floor, heading upstairs.

it was almost nine in the morning when you woke up, you knew johnny woke up around seven to eight so the sizzling smell of bacon wasn’t just some evil mind games. after last night, you felt, intense shame and guilt. did you seriously just betray your best friend for a lousy orgasm you could’ve done alone in the bathroom. “your up! i made breakfast, go ahead and dig in, i’m just gonna be cleaning up my bedroom.” he sounded as if you didn’t cum all over his lap not even 12 hours ago, but i guess he shouldn’t dwell in the past especially this time.

“mr.suh! my mom’s here! thank you... goodbye!” you shout from the front door. “anytime! bye!” he replies before you jolt out the door.

it’s been a couple days and johnny hasn’t left your mind. you always think about what stopped him, was it the age? your friendship with mark? that fucking phone call? johnny and you that night was like no other, you saw him for johnny, not mr.suh and it made your panties soak at every thought. how his ink black hair is always combed and in the most attractive middle part, how his broad should could feel when you hold yourself while being railed by his enormous cock. it was big, would it even fit? you’ve been with men before but the bulge you felt poking you in then thigh was something else compared to the other men.

you roamed his mind freely too. spending his day drinking hours, pondering over you, will you just slap him in the face and let him know you want him and you don’t care? he hopes. but it’s wrong. “dad! y/n’s coming over to study today,” mark shouted running down the stairs to his father. “so don’t snatch her up and take her away for a movie date, we got an exam this monday.” he said nonchalantly, the mention of their little outing slipping oh too casually. “w-what?” he asked surprised. “yeah yeah, i know about your little date and hook up” “- we didn’t hook up.” johnny interrupted, “well whatever you were doing for her to end my phone call like that,” he goes to the fridge to grab some milk, “so...” johnny said, eager on his son’s say on this. “so..? do you want me to be mad, dad?” i was lying if i said johnny was chill now... “no!!!!” he shouted, which earns a couple laughs from mark. “hey, dad,” mark sits down infront of his father. “it’s okay, y/n probably likes you back so you can do whatever you want with her, except hurt her cause i’ll kill you.” he deadpans before letting him off with a laugh. “so she can be your new mom for all you care?” he asked, playfully of course, waiting for the “hell no” and “what the fuck dad?!” to come but... “i mean she bags and tells me what to do, she helps me with school, laundry and chicks so... i don’t see why not,”

ding ding ding ding ding ding now what? hopping off the bean bag you were binge watching the office on, you head over to the door, not caring what you look like, just shut up to whoever had the audacity to spam a doorbell. “hello?!” you look up, “hey y/n,” johnny said with a small daisy in his hand.

“let me be your boyfriend,”

“what about mark?” you asked, staring at your feet wiggle in anticipation. hoping he’d tell you he doesn’t care and we could do whatever we wanted to. “funny you asked, he said for all he cares you could be his step mom.” you threw your head back laughing “he what?! no he didn’t....” the laughter dies down soon enough to get back to seriously listening in on what he has to say but did mark really not care? “your girlfriend huh?” you asked, raising a brow. he nodded. johnny proceeds to take the daisy and place it behind your ear, “you look like shit, but that is sexy as fuck.” he said, caressing your cheek before leaning in to place a peck on your lips.

“i don’t get why you drove half an hour here to say that, when i was already coming over to study.” you tell your boyfriend, johnny, as your backs his mattress. it was seriously an eventful day, wasn’t it? “i thought i should be romantic,” he shrugged turning to his side to wrap his large arms around your waist pulling you in closer. “i like this...” he mumbled into your hair, slowly drifting off to sleep.

“are you falling asleep?! we need to leave in ten minutes!!” you shouted, attempting to free yourself from his hold but he was knocked out and not letting go any time soon. “i hate you.” “i think it’s the quiet opposite y/n dear,” he replied, burying himself in the blanket, bringing you with him. “now let’s take a quick nap, mark can wait,” you sigh in defeat, “okay fine... twenty minutes!”

five months later, and you couldn’t believe having a relationship with your best friends dad was oddly working out perfectly. “johnny! fuck! baby your so good!” you whine as he penetrates into you against the wall. your legs wrapped around his waist as his cock rubs around your g-spot stimulating you into your third orgasm of that night. mark had recently gone travelling with jeno for fun so that meant you and johnny could’ve have your own fun in the empty house. “you can cum for me one more time can’t you?” he begged, placing you on the kitchen counter, kissing down your stomach. “answer me...” he sucks harhly on your clit. “yes! i can!!” you whined, squirming feeling johnny licking up your juicie; which sure as hell was mixed with his own cum, lapping his tongue around until you were shaking under his mouth and curling your toes to his mouth’s magic. “i’m- i’m cumming!!” you scream, releasing your juices onto the man’s face. “my favourite meal of the day.” he playfully joked before pinching your nipple. “tired?” he asked, as if he hadn’t been using you as a cum dump for hours. “mhm,” you reply opening your arms for him to carry you up, because “no way in hell am i walking up the stairs today after being railed by a monster cock.” you said snorting with a laugh. nonetheless, johnny swoops you up and gracefully carried you up and into his bed, “we can clean up tomorrow, let’s sleep now.” he said, feeling you wrap around him like a koala. “mmm goodnight... i love you,” you said in the crock of his neck, right below his ear before drifting off, “love you too,”

[captaincravatthecapricious]

If That’s What it is

A difficult reunion.  cw for strained friendships.

Tim doesn’t remember how to be friends.  

The was never the one…  He could fake it… once.  Or maybe he really was like that.  Was he ever as friendly as people seemed to think?  Was he just filling a roll?  Covering for his hurt?  Where does the facade end?

It doesn’t help matters that this is Jon.  Jon.  How can he rebuild bridges long set on fire then torn down then had both sides bricked over and a cemetery developed between the halves.  

Sat on opposite ends of the couch in the quiet of a London flat.  

The distance of a few handspans may as well be a journey of a thousand steps.  

It may as well be made of pages of misdeeds, or the longest novels written stacked end to end and must be read to cross.  

Why is he even here?  

It was fine when he… what did he even think?  

That Jon had gone full monster?  That he intentionally ended the world?  That he died trying to prevent whatever the fuck that was?  That he simply died years before, maybe when Tim supposedly had.  He doesn’t know what he thought but he had deniability, for whatever that was worth.  

Jon keeps opening his mouth, as if to speak, but shuts it tightly every time.  

This isn’t the first attempt.  Nor is it the second.  

Just… the most awkward, as hard as it was to beat the previous encounters.  

Encounter one:

Scene: the grocery store.  

Enter Tim, minding his own damn business with his headphones in.  Loud enough that he can actually hear it, even if it means just about everyone else in the store can hear it too.  Probably should be paying more attention to his surroundings as he runs into someone when he’s trying to buy peanut butter.  The someone probably says ‘oof,’ but Tim can’t hear it.  

“Sorry, mate.”  He offers a bit of an apologetic smile.  (Smiling has gotten easier, but… But not as easy as it was.)

He doesn’t plan to meet the eyes of whoever he ran into, but even he can hear the squeak when the someone, Martin, catches sight of him properly.  

“TIM?”  

Oh shit.  It’s Martin.  Martin Blackwood.  Martin K. Blackwood.  Archival assistant.  (Does he count as a one night stand if the “one night” was over two weeks on in the nightmarish magical mystery ride of the Distortion’s hallways?)  Friend?  Abomination apologist.  Friend.  …Yes, a friend who thinks Tim is very very dead.  

Martin’s shopping is on the ground, and without thinking, Tim has helped Martin to the ground and is pushing his head between his knees to stave off what is shaping up to be a panic attack.  

Tim hasn’t even paused his music.  

It’s still blaring something irritatingly of the wrong mood into his ears.  

Once Martin has his breath back, he starts signing furiously.  

And Tim has to stand back stunned at the barrage affection and anger and resentment and relief, and off balance that Martin still remembers the sign he learned for Tim. 

He leaves without his peanut butter, and with a coil of guilt deep in his gut, with nothing to curb the ringing in his ears because he can’t tolerate music right now, and an address and a number ‘only if he is ready to step on his anger and listen to Jon, for once.’  He hadn’t even gotten a word in.  He hadn’t even told him that Sasha was alive.  

Just been yelled at in a grocery store.  

Encounter two:

Scene: A Living Room, night.  

“Jon isn’t here.”  Martin tells him this before even letting him in.  “He knows you are, but he isn’t here.  He’s having dinner with some other teachers in his department.  It’s just us.”  Martin’s signing this.  

Tim is wearing his hearing aids, but Martin is signing anyhow.  Maybe it’s easier for him to get it out through that halfway-to-icy expression on his face.  Maybe it’s out of coldness, but Tim can’t help but feel a warmth deep in his chest that Martin remembered the BSL he labored over when he was assigned to the archives.  

Tim swallows hard around the hope and bitterness and anger and regret and longing.  He nods.  “Thanks for having me.”  He signs quietly.  

Martin ushers him in, and hands him a cup of tea.  It’s still hot.  It’s just how Tim takes it.  And he’s sat on a squashy couch, staring at a squashy cat who is glaring at him.  

Well.  That seems fitting.  

Cat glaring.  Martin… almost glaring.  No, not glaring.  He’s got his own tea.  And he is sipping it, giving a very chilly look to the poor wall.  

Tim takes in the photos on the wall, while avoiding Martin’s eyes.  All Polaroids.  There’s Jon and Martin in Martin’s ratty looking jumpers (ones that were significantly more new when they first met) standing in the countryside squashed together and laughing their assess off.  Jon in oversized wellies, covered in mud, facing off against a cow.  Jon standing in the shallows of a pond, looking peacefully into the distance.  Martin asleep, in a rustic bedroom, golden morning light spilling across his lax and happy face.  There is a frame containing the Litany Against Fear from Dune.  A frame with a page from Slaughterhouse Five.  …A frame with a picture of a young and unsecured Jon looking grumpy, a young and happy and probably drunk Tim with an arm slung around him, and an arm around Sasha who is giving a blushing Martin bunny ears.  That one has a place of honor.  It’s a little worn looking, but in a way that makes it clear it survived a lot… the end of the world, in fact.  

Seeing it hits Tim square in the chest.  It hurts.  

Martin finishes his tea and turns towards Tim.  

“So.”  

Tim puts his nearly cool tea down on the coffee table.  The squashy cat keeps glaring at him from an equally squashy arm chair.  He faces Martin, but can’t quite meet his eye.  Martin is waiting for him to talk.  

“Didn’t die.  Thought I would.  Thought I had.  Didn’t.  Walked away.  Got a job.  I… I uh.  Found Sasha.  Stranger had fucked her up pretty badly, so don’t be mad at her for not calling, she had a lot of trouble remembering and being remembered.  Survived the apocalypse.  Got on with life, or tried to.  Got some therapy.”

He braces himself for the impact.  He’s mentioned Sasha over text, but still.  Not to mention, it’s all a lot.  

Martin’s jaw tightens.  

“Thought you could just, let me think you died?  Tim, the only person who came back from the Unknowing was Basira.  The only one.  Call me selfish, but you died, Jon essentially died, we thought Daisy had died.  Then my mother died too.  I know you had your head up your ass, but do you know what that did to me?  Yeah, sure, great, you got out.  Whoop-de-fucking-do.  You could have called.  Or texted.  Or sent a letter.  Anything!  And you know what?  Partly it was a relief, because at least I thought you were happy.  Or at peace.  Or at the very least you wouldn’t be there to harass Jon anymore.  But you all died.  It was just me.  Everyone I cared about was dead.  Six month Jon was dead.  And no, don’t you dare get on Jon’s case about that.  He mourned you.  He still is mourning you.  He’s been walking on air since you and Sasha…  Tim, I swear, if you hurt him… If you hurt him again, you will regret it.  You will only see him if you are ready to listen.  You don’t have to forgive, but you are not allowed to be cruel.”  

Tim doesn’t have a single doubt.  “I…  I’ve missed him.  I’m sorry.”  

“No yelling, no grabbing, no sudden movements, nothing passive aggressive.  And I will be in the next room and so help me, if you scare him…”

Martin lets the threat hang.  

It hurts.  It isn’t anything he’s ever gotten from Martin.  Didn’t think Martin had enough of a spine for it.  …But.  But he guesses when everyone dies(? he has a lot of questions, but it doesn’t look like Martin is in the right headspace to answer them, and Tim might not be either.  His breathing is uneven and his face is hot and he isn’t sure if he wants to break something or cry or scream or maybe just repaint his and Sasha’s home all in one go.)…  Well… he doesn’t have to guess.  He knows exactly what that can do to a person.  And it isn’t pretty.  He feels the guilt coiling again.  He wants to tear it out and stomp on it.  But… but he guesses, the guilt can guide him.  He needs to do right by the people that used to be his friends.  The people he’s missed every day since he got his head on straight with extensive therapy and a variety of coping mechanisms.  

The scene: The same squashy couch, in the same quiet flat.  

The squashy cat is in Jon’s lap.  The cat is glaring, and Jon is staring at him with those giant, hopeful, tired, guilty eyes.  Haunted and rimmed in shadow, as ever.  

He knows Martin is in the next room, ready to step in if he needs to.  

All Tim needs to do… is reach out.  

[soliverse]

cinderella and the mystery of the red lipstick (sfw version) - d.sc

reader x roommate!winwin

genre: fluff, humor, (optional smut below)

warnings: a bunch of swearing, mean insults and a bit of gaslighting

word count: 2972

synopsis: this is another Cinderella fic, except for the fact that she left lipstick stains instead of glass slippers

tags:

@byutafy for the short notice beta reading. love you!

networks:

@nctcreations @kdiarynet @kpopscape @kwritersworld @culture-cafe @neowritingsnet @neoswitchnet @czennienet @nct-writers

prompt:

The song it was based on was Lips by NCT 127 (although it leaned towards the demo version more)

It was also a bit upbeat because the song Cinderella by CNBLUE (the Youth With You version) has been stuck on my head for ages now.

Enjoy reading!

Love, Ellie.

It was already two in the afternoon but Winwin still stayed lying in bed, clutching his blanket close to his body in an attempt to prevent the chill of the afternoon breeze from coming in contact with his bare skin.

The plan was to stay in bed until all remnants of the vodka and last night's shenanigans have washed away. Or until he dies from starvation. But his roommates have other things in mind.

"WINWIN HYUNG!"

He was jolted awake by the loud noise coming from his bedroom window. Half-awake, he peeked through the sheets to see what the commotion was about.

The first thing he saw was Lucas holding his now broken doorknob in one hand, happily waving it around like a lightstick. Hendery was happily mumbling some bullshit that he didn't care enough to comprehend. Xiaojun was holding a tube-like contraption that he assumed was confetti, Ten and Yangyang were on the side, dancing like the game show girls while holding up each side of a handmade banner stating "Congrats on getting laid!" badly written with a green crayon. Meanwhile, Kun at the end of the line, leaning back at the door frame with his arms crossed while watching all of the chaos unfold right before him.

"Fuck off..."

Winwin grunted and grabbed the pillow under his head, throwing it with full force so that it ended up hitting Xiaojun on his chest.

They seem to have taken the hint because they all scrambled outside, laughing their asses off as they try to get away and avoid getting their asses kicked by a martial artist.

Meanwhile, Winwin buried his face under the thick sheets, trying his best to block the light coming from outside from reaching his eyes, heightening his already throbbing headache. He was planning to stay in bed no matter how loud his stomach grumbled, but his resolve is weaker than he expected. Begrudgingly, he dragged his tired ass out of bed to take a cold shower, hoping that will shake his hangover out.

///

“Holy shit.”

This wasn’t the usual statement that he says to himself whenever he would look at himself in the morning. However, as soon as he lifted his head in the mirror to wash his face, he might as well be an extra for a horror movie.

All over his upper body, especially the neck and chest area, was filled with red smudges. He also found tiny hints of it at the corners of his lips. Upon closer inspection, he realized that it was lipstick.

Whoever he made out with (or had sex with) last night must’ve gone wild and tried to mark every part of him that she could place her lips on.

Winwin felt his heart sink. He couldn’t, for the life of him, remember who he was last night. Just like his body, the memories of her red lips lingered on his mind. But that’s about it.

It took him a long time to squint his eyes and try to recall the moments leading up to him getting on the bed with someone, but it only made his headache worse. Defeated, he chose to let everything go and proceeded to hop in the shower just like he initially intended.

He opened the shower, letting it get to his desired temperature before he stepped in and let the water flow from his hair to the rest of his body. He didn’t move, instead of leaning one of his hands on the wall for support as he closed his eyes and tried to soothe himself with the water pressure from the showerhead. He took a deep breath, letting the air come out slowly of his lips, eyes still heavily shut.

That’s when the memories kicked in.

He finally remembered being in that same position, in a familiar corner of their dorm, as he leaned over to kiss the girl with the red lips. He also remembered the heat, the intensity of the kiss as his subconscious made him remember that he was gasping for air afterward. And so, he resorted to kissing her jaws instead. She willingly returned the favor, which is probably where he’d gotten the smudges that he found that morning, and how her red lips formed a proud smile as she kept on going, painting his fair skin with her rouge.

He sucked in another lungful of air before opening his eyes and hopping back into reality. He’s still clueless as to how the girl looked like, but he was determined to find out who’s the owner of those red luscious lips, and he would love it all over him again.

///

Sicheng came out of his room already dressed up, water still dripping from his hair to the towel that he placed on his neck. He made his way to the kitchen and he found the rest of his friends sitting around the table, smiling like idiots.

“What?”

He asked, already annoyed about how they’ve been acting all day, or at least, for the past two hours.

“Yangyang saw you enter your room last night. With a girl,” says Kun.

“Uhh, duh?” Ten replied, raising an eyebrow at the older as he grabbed the butter knife and spread peanut butter over a piece of bread.

“How sure is everyone that it was a girl?” Hendery squinted his eyes, trying to look intimidating as he interrogated his friend for further details about last night.

“Why is everyone so concerned if I fucked a girl or not? Or if I fucked at all?” Winwin replied in annoyance, coming out almost whiney, hoping that they would cut the questions out and leave him and his breakfast alone.

“You don’t know either, do you?” Xiaojun tried not to laugh as he stuffed a sunny-side-up egg in his mouth, failing at the last minute to the point that he almost spat some of it out.

Winwin sighed. He knows they will plague him with questions until next week and will do anything to squeeze it out of him at the best of their abilities. Him getting laid feels like some event to be celebrated because out of all the guys, he was the least interested in women. Not that he doesn’t like them, it’s that he just refused to do it unless he’s genuinely interested in the girl.

Or guy.

Was it a guy?

Winwin resorted to stuffing his mouth with as much food as he can because it would give him an excuse to not speak further and answer their questions. For how long he can keep it up is a question that he’ll have to face once his plate full of food is decimated.

///

By the time you get into your brother’s dorm, the whole place was so trashed that you even hesitated to proceed inside. However, your mother asked you that morning to come over to your brother’s dorm as he refuses to reply to her texts and respond to her calls that morning.

“Ssup, nerd.”

You always cringe whenever Hendery calls you that nickname. Not that it affects you or anything. It was just so… old-school. You’re a big fan of insults and you would certainly be happier if the nickname was a bit more creative.

“Ssup, failure.” You replied, sitting right beside him as you grabbed a plate and helped yourself with the food served at the table, courtesy of Kun. He’s the only one that’s competent enough to fry eggs that beautifully.

“Mom’s been calling non-stop since last night. I didn’t tell her I wasn’t with you. I couldn’t come up with an excuse so I just told her you slept early because of morning classes.”

Hendery snickered.

You and he have very different lifestyles. He was supposed to be two years ahead of you in college, but he’s always caught up in partying and having fun that he missed some subjects that he had to retake that year. One more fuck up and you’ll be joining him in classes next year. And as your parents’ only hope, you feel compelled to stay away from all the fun stuff until you graduate. That is also the reason why Hendery felt it was his moral obligation to shoo you away from last night’s party, despite sharing the same room as him.

At least that's what he told you. You have a reason to believe that he shooed you away last night just so he can do whatever he wanted without you around to snitch on him.

“Everything’s fine, kid. I already told her the same thing last night. You and I share the same brain.”

“Yes, except one of us has his brain fried by substance abuse and the other has a perfectly functioning human brain capable of making future science discoveries.”

Your eyes then diverted to the guy sitting right across you. He looked sickly and pale, his organs probably screaming inside asking to die.

“What’s up with him?” You asked your brother.

“He had done the deed with a guy last night.” Winwin, with an expressionless face, was quick to throw a flying spoon in Hendery’s direction. The milk splattered everywhere, but Hendery was able to evade it, laughing maniacally as he wiped the milk off of his arms.

“Hey, you’re good with this investigation stuff, right? Maybe you can help prince charming over here find his Cinderella?”

///

"Tell me what you can remember."

Winwin thought you looked ridiculous when you grabbed a pen and a notepad, looking like some low-budget investigator in the movie. He wasn't in the mood to play along, but he might as well humor you and find out what happened last night.

"This may not help at all, but I can't remember jack shit except for one thing," He paused. You raised both eyebrows expectantly, signaling him to answer faster. "Red lips. That's the one thing I haven't forgotten about."

You scribbled the word, red lips in your notepad.

You scribbled a few more words and nodded as if you understood its implication.

"Well, that doesn't narrow down the suspects at all."

You placed your notepad in your pocket and stood up from your seat.

"We shall now go and investigate the crime scene."

///

You decided that the crime scene was Winwin's bedroom since this is where he found himself last.

Winwin saw that you're very detail-oriented, looking at every nook at cranny to see traces of the mystery person around and aid in the investigation.

His room was cleaner than you'd expected, so finding things that stick out or are out of place will be a clear sign of the perpetrator.

You searched high and low, from the shelves to the bed, but you're only able to find two things that might help his case.

As soon as you lifted one of his pillowcases, you saw traces of red smeared across its white surface. Some of it even transferred in the bedsheets.

"Your story checks out. It is red lipstick." You lifted the pillow and walked towards Winwin, who's just sitting at one of his bean bags and mostly just observing you doing your stuff.

You pointed out the smudges to him and he nodded. You then proceeded to grab one of your magnifiers from your backpack and looked at the stains for closer inspection.

"Seeing its transferability, I can say that the lipstick in question has a satin finish. The shade, as far as I can see, is somewhere in between orange and bright red." You grabbed your notepad once again and listed down your observations.

"Know anyone who wears that often?" He proceeded to shake his head.

"Alright then. Now, we ask the witnesses."

You were about to leave the room when Winwin called you out to call your attention.

"Hmm?"

"I think there's something under the bed."

He stood up from his seat and proceeded to walk towards his bed, kneeling as he tried to reach for something below.

You were surprised to see what he found, though. In between his fingers is a piece of thin, lace material, glowing red just like the lipstick shade. It was someone's underwear.

"Yeah… I think we should keep that from the witnesses."

///

"Where were you at the time of the incident?"

As it turns out, the rest of the boys are no more helpful than Winwin. You just finished interviewing Kun, Ten, Yangyang, Xiaojun, and Lucas. The boys themselves barely remember what they did last night, let alone whatever their friend was doing. Meanwhile, the victim (aka Dong Sicheng) sat there right alongside you while you asked the questions. You asked them if they were helpful at all, but alas, nothing resonates to him.

"Hey, aren't you going to ask me about last night?"

Hendery popped out in the makeshift interrogation room (aka the living room) and sat down right beside you, peeking in at your notes.

"Nope. I only interview reliable sources. You can barely remember your stuff sober." You stuffed your notepad back again at your backpack, hugging it close to your body to keep it from your brother.

"I saw Winwin with someone though. He was making out with someone right just a few meters away from his bedroom."

"Go on…"

"I didn't see her well though. She was pinned across the wall and Sicheng hyung's body was blocking the view."

You sighed.

"See. It was pretty useless information."

He was about to say something else, but you cut him off.

"I'll keep them in mind, thank you very much."

///

You’ve finally sat down back again in the kitchen to give yourself a moment of peace to piece the things you found together. Winwin is just right beside you, just quietly observing just as usual.

Everything is laid out across the kitchen table, your notepad, the pillowcase, the underwear (which is kept in a ziplock bag for hygienic purposes).

“You still don’t remember anything?”

“I do remember seeing those before, but nothing is still coming out. I still can’t remember who she is.”

You can tell that Sicheng was getting a bit frustrated. He was trying his best to remember as he once again shut his eyes and furrowed his eyebrows, seeing if there is anything that he is missing.

As he did this, Hendery popped in again in the kitchen, this time holding a full laundry basket.

“I would just like to let you know that I am being a good brother and roommate by doing your laundry.”

“Yes, yes. Thank you Hendery. You did well." You smiled at your brother to acknowledge him, but you mostly did it just to shoo him away from the investigation room. He seems to have gotten the idea and left as soon as he showed the basket to you for one last time.

He shut the door and you were met with a deafening silence once again. This time though, you felt weird energy coming from the guy right in front of you. He stared at you for a long time, specifically your lips, and then he started to break down right in front of you.

"Shit."

"Hmm?"

You asked him what the problem was, but all that came out of his mouth are grunts and a string of curses.

"You alright?"

He was now going between laughing and frustration, rubbing his hands on his face as he lets out all emotions.

"It was you all along. You're red lips girl."

You smiled as you looked at your phone to check the time.

"Five hours. I'm impressed. If that was my brother, it would've taken him a week or two."

"Why didn't you just tell me? I feel stupid."

"And take the fun out of it? Nope."

You then watch him react, different kinds of emotions flooding in at the same time. You laughed as you stood from your seat and patted his back.

"What gave it away?"

He stopped reacting for a while, composing himself as he relayed his deductions to you.

"I had my suspicions when you opened your bag to get the magnifying glass. I saw a red lipstick tube scattered across but I dismissed it since any girl would have lipstick on her bag. I was also confused when you refused to acknowledge the underwear. I saw it from my point of view, but it's like you purposely didn't look under the bed just so you won't find it. You know it was there, didn't you?"

You finally grabbed a seat right beside him, interested to hear what he has to say next.

"And then there's Hendery's story. You didn't ask him to mess with him. It's because he did see us. I remember now, it's what got us in this mess in the first place…"

You nodded to acknowledge him. You've always known that he's a bit smarter than the other guys, but he was very observant as well. That's why he was quiet all the time.

"Lastly, when Hendery came in with your laundry, there was something sticking out," He picked up the ziplock and held it across your face. "The bra that came with this, it was sandwiched along with your other clothing, but the bright color stuck out to me."

"Mhm… " You nodded in approval. You didn't even notice that last one, but he was able to pick that as well.

"And then I stared at your lips for a while. That's when it hit me. It was the same lips that I claimed last night. The red lips that drove me crazy…"

You gave him a small round of applause as he finished his spiel.

"Honestly, you were on point on everything. I'm just sad that you can't remember anything."

His moment of clarity was shut down and he smiled apologetically.

"Want me to tell you what happened?"

He nodded profusely.

It was already two in the afternoon but Winwin still stayed lying in bed, clutching his blanket close to his body in an attempt to prevent the chill of the afternoon breeze from coming in contact with his bare skin.

The plan was to stay in bed until all remnants of the vodka and last night's shenanigans have washed away. Or until he dies from starvation. But his roommates have other things in mind.

"WINWIN HYUNG!"

He was jolted awake by the loud noise coming from his bedroom window. Half-awake, he peeked through the sheets to see what the commotion was about.

The first thing he saw was Lucas holding his now broken doorknob in one hand, happily waving it around like a lightstick. Hendery was happily mumbling some bullshit that he didn't care enough to comprehend. Xiaojun was holding a tube-like contraption that he assumed was confetti, Ten and Yangyang were on the side, dancing like the game show girls while holding up each side of a handmade banner stating "Congrats on getting laid!" badly written with a green crayon. Meanwhile, Kun at the end of the line, leaning back at the door frame with his arms crossed while watching all of the chaos unfold right before him.

"Fuck off..."

Winwin grunted and grabbed the pillow under his head, throwing it with full force so that it ended up hitting Xiaojun on his chest.

They seem to have taken the hint because they all scrambled outside, laughing their asses off as they try to get away and avoid getting their asses kicked by a martial artist.

Meanwhile, Winwin buried his face under the thick sheets, trying his best to block the light coming from outside from reaching his eyes, heightening his already throbbing headache. He was planning to stay in bed no matter how loud his stomach grumbled, but his resolve is weaker than he expected. Begrudgingly, he dragged his tired ass out of bed to take a cold shower, hoping that will shake his hangover out.

///

“Holy shit.”

This wasn’t the usual statement that he says to himself whenever he would look at himself in the morning. However, as soon as he lifted his head in the mirror to wash his face, he might as well be an extra for a horror movie.

All over his upper body, especially the neck and chest area, was filled with red smudges. He also found tiny hints of it at the corners of his lips. Upon closer inspection, he realized that it was lipstick.

Whoever he made out with (or had sex with) last night must’ve gone wild and tried to mark every part of him that she could place her lips on.

Winwin felt his heart sink. He couldn’t, for the life of him, remember who he was last night. Just like his body, the memories of her red lips lingered on his mind. But that’s about it.

It took him a long time to squint his eyes and try to recall the moments leading up to him getting on the bed with someone, but it only made his headache worse. Defeated, he chose to let everything go and proceeded to hop in the shower just like he initially intended.

He opened the shower, letting it get to his desired temperature before he stepped in and let the water flow from his hair to the rest of his body. He didn’t move, instead of leaning one of his hands on the wall for support as he closed his eyes and tried to soothe himself with the water pressure from the showerhead. He took a deep breath, letting the air come out slowly of his lips, eyes still heavily shut.

That’s when the memories kicked in.

He finally remembered being in that same position, in a familiar corner of their dorm, as he leaned over to kiss the girl with the red lips. He also remembered the heat, the intensity of the kiss as his subconscious made him remember that he was gasping for air afterward. And so, he resorted to kissing her jaws instead. She willingly returned the favor, which is probably where he’d gotten the smudges that he found that morning, and how her red lips formed a proud smile as she kept on going, painting his fair skin with her rouge.

He sucked in another lungful of air before opening his eyes and hopping back into reality. He’s still clueless as to how the girl looked like, but he was determined to find out who’s the owner of those red luscious lips, and he would love it all over him again.

///

Sicheng came out of his room already dressed up, water still dripping from his hair to the towel that he placed on his neck. He made his way to the kitchen and he found the rest of his friends sitting around the table, smiling like idiots.

“What?”

He asked, already annoyed about how they’ve been acting all day, or at least, for the past two hours.

“Hendery saw you enter your room last night. With a girl,” says Kun.

“Uhh, duh?” Ten replied, raising an eyebrow at the older as he grabbed the butter knife and spread peanut butter over a piece of bread.

“How sure is everyone that it was a girl?” Yangyang squinted his eyes, trying to look intimidating as he interrogated his friend for further details about last night.

“Why is everyone so concerned if I fucked a girl or not? Or if I fucked someone at all?” Winwin replied in annoyance, coming out almost whiney, hoping that they would cut the questions out and leave him and his breakfast alone.

“You don’t know either, do you?” Xiaojun tried not to laugh as he stuffed a sunny-side-up egg in his mouth, failing at the last minute to the point that he almost spat some of it out.

Winwin sighed. He knows they will plague him with questions until next week and will do anything to squeeze it out of him at the best of their abilities. Him getting laid feels like some event to be celebrated because out of all the guys, he was the least interested in women. Not that he doesn’t like them, it’s that he just refused to do it unless he’s genuinely interested in the girl.

Or guy.

Was it a guy?

Winwin resorted to stuffing his mouth with as much food as he can because it would give him an excuse to not speak further and answer their questions. For how long he can keep it up is a question that he’ll have to face once his plate full of food is decimated.

///

By the time you get into your brother’s dorm, the whole place was so trashed that you even hesitated to proceed inside. However, your mother asked you that morning to come over to your brother’s dorm as he refuses to reply to her texts and respond to her calls that morning.

“Ssup, nerd.”

You always cringe whenever Hendery calls you that nickname. Not that it affects you or anything. It was just so… old-school. You’re a big fan of insults and you would certainly be happier if the nickname was a bit more creative.

“Ssup, failure.” You replied, sitting right beside him as you grabbed a plate and helped yourself with the food served at the table, courtesy of Kun. He’s the only one that’s competent enough to fry eggs that beautifully.

“Mom’s been calling non-stop since last night. I didn’t tell her I wasn’t with you. I couldn’t come up with an excuse so I just told her you slept early because of morning classes.”

Hendery snickered.

You and he have very different lifestyles. He was supposed to be two years ahead of you in college, but he’s always caught up in partying and having fun that he missed some subjects that he had to retake that year. One more fuck up and you’ll be joining him in classes next year. And as your parents’ only hope, you feel compelled to stay away from all the fun stuff until you graduate. That is also the reason why Hendery felt it was his moral obligation to shoo you away from last night’s party, despite sharing the same room as him.

At least that's what he told you. You have a reason to believe that he shooed you away last night just so he can do whatever he wanted without you around to snitch on him.

“Everything’s fine, kid. I already told her the same thing last night. You and I share the same brain.”

“Yes, except one of us has his brain fried by substance abuse and the other has a perfectly functioning human brain capable of making future science discoveries.”

Your eyes then diverted to the guy sitting right across you. He looked sickly and pale, his organs probably screaming inside asking to die.

“What’s up with him?” You asked your brother.

“He had done the deed with a guy last night.” Winwin, with an expressionless face, was quick to throw a flying spoon in Hendery’s direction. The milk splattered everywhere, but Hendery was able to evade it, laughing maniacally as he wiped the milk off of his arms.

“Hey, you’re good with this investigation stuff, right? Maybe you can help prince charming over here find his Cinderella?”

///

"Tell me what you can remember."

Winwin thought you looked ridiculous when you grabbed a pen and a notepad, looking like some low-budget investigator in the movie. He wasn't in the mood to play along, but he might as well humor you and find out what happened last night.

"This may not help at all, but I can't remember jack shit except for one thing," He paused. You raised both eyebrows expectantly, signaling him to answer faster. "Red lips. That's the one thing I haven't forgotten about."

You scribbled the word, red lips in your notepad.

You scribbled a few more words and nodded as if you understood its implication.

"Well, that doesn't narrow down the suspects at all."

You placed your notepad in your pocket and stood up from your seat.

"We shall now go and investigate the crime scene."

///

You decided that the crime scene was Winwin's bedroom since this is where he found himself last.

Winwin saw that you're very detail-oriented, looking at every nook at cranny to see traces of the mystery person around and aid in the investigation.

His room was cleaner than you'd expected, so finding things that stick out or are out of place will be a clear sign of the perpetrator.

You searched high and low, from the shelves to the bed, but you're only able to find two things that might help his case.

As soon as you lifted one of his pillowcases, you saw traces of red smeared across its white surface. Some of it even transferred in the bedsheets.

"Your story checks out. It is red lipstick." You lifted the pillow and walked towards Winwin, who's just sitting at one of his bean bags and mostly just observing you doing your stuff.

You pointed out the smudges to him and he nodded. You then proceeded to grab one of your magnifiers from your backpack and looked at the stains for closer inspection.

"Seeing its transferability, I can say that the lipstick in question has a satin finish. The shade, as far as I can see, is somewhere in between orange and bright red." You grabbed your notepad once again and listed down your observations.

"Know anyone who wears that often?" He proceeded to shake his head.

"Alright then. Now, we ask the witnesses."

You were about to leave the room when Winwin called you out to call your attention.

"Hmm?"

"I think there's something under the bed."

He stood up from his seat and proceeded to walk towards his bed, kneeling as he tried to reach for something below.

You were surprised to see what he found, though. In between his fingers is a piece of thin, lace material, glowing red just like the lipstick shade. It was someone's underwear.

"Yeah… I think we should keep that from the witnesses."

///

"Where were you at the time of the incident?"

As it turns out, the rest of the boys are no more helpful than Winwin. You just finished interviewing Kun, Ten, Yangyang, Xiaojun, and Lucas. The boys themselves barely remember what they did last night, let alone whatever their friend was doing. Meanwhile, the victim (aka Dong Sicheng) sat there right alongside you while you asked the questions. You asked them if they were helpful at all, but alas, nothing resonates to him.

"Hey, aren't you going to ask me about last night?"

Hendery popped out in the makeshift interrogation room (aka the living room) and sat down right beside you, peeking in at your notes.

"Nope. I only interview reliable sources. You can barely remember your stuff sober." You stuffed your notepad back again at your backpack, hugging it close to your body to keep it from your brother.

"I saw Winwin with someone though. He was making out with someone right just a few meters away from his bedroom."

"Go on…"

"I didn't see her well though. She was pinned across the wall and Sicheng hyung's body was blocking the view."

You sighed.

"See. It was pretty useless information."

He was about to say something else, but you cut him off.

"I'll keep them in mind, thank you very much."

///

You’ve finally sat down back again in the kitchen to give yourself a moment of peace to piece the things you found together. Winwin is just right beside you, just quietly observing just as usual.

Everything is laid out across the kitchen table, your notepad, the pillowcase, the underwear (which is kept in a ziplock bag for hygienic purposes).

“You still don’t remember anything?”

“I do remember seeing those before, but nothing is still coming out. I still can’t remember who she is.”

You can tell that Sicheng was getting a bit frustrated. He was trying his best to remember as he once again shut his eyes and furrowed his eyebrows, seeing if there is anything that he is missing.

As he did this, Hendery popped in again in the kitchen, this time holding a full laundry basket.

“I would just like to let you know that I am being a good brother and roommate by doing your laundry.”

“Yes, yes. Thank you Hendery. You did well." You smiled at your brother to acknowledge him, but you mostly did it just to shoo him away from the investigation room. He seems to have gotten the idea and left as soon as he showed the basket to you for one last time.

He shut the door and you were met with a deafening silence once again. This time though, you felt weird energy coming from the guy right in front of you. He stared at you for a long time, specifically your lips, and then he started to break down right in front of you.

"Shit."

"Hmm?"

You asked him what the problem was, but all that came out of his mouth are grunts and a string of curses.

"You alright?"

He was now going between laughing and frustration, rubbing his hands on his face as he lets out all emotions.

"It was you all along. You're red lips girl."

You smiled as you looked at your phone to check the time.

"Five hours. I'm impressed. If that was my brother, it would've taken him a week or two."

"Why didn't you just tell me? I feel stupid."

"And take the fun out of it? Nope."

You then watch him react, different kinds of emotions flooding in at the same time. You laughed as you stood from your seat and patted his back.

"What gave it away?"

He stopped reacting for a while, composing himself as he relayed his deductions to you.

"I had my suspicions when you opened your bag to get the magnifying glass. I saw a red lipstick tube scattered across but I dismissed it since any girl would have lipstick on her bag. I was also confused when you refused to acknowledge the underwear. I saw it from my point of view, but it's like you purposely didn't look under the bed just so you won't find it. You know it was there, didn't you?"

You finally grabbed a seat right beside him, interested to hear what he has to say next.

"And then there's Hendery's story. You didn't ask him to mess with him. It's because he did see us. I remember now, it's what got us in this mess in the first place…"

You nodded to acknowledge him. You've always known that he's a bit smarter than the other guys, but he was very observant as well. That's why he was quiet all the time.

"Lastly, when Hendery came in with your laundry, there was something sticking out," He picked up the ziplock and held it across your face. "The bra that came with this, it was sandwiched along with your other clothing, but the bright color stuck out to me."

"Mhm… " You nodded in approval. You didn't even notice that last one, but he was able to pick that as well.

"And then I stared at your lips for a while. That's when it hit me. It was the same lips that I claimed last night. The red lips that drove me crazy…"

You gave him a small round of applause as he finished his spiel.

"Honestly, you were on point on everything. I'm just sad that you can't remember anything."

His moment of clarity was shut down and he smiled apologetically.

"Want me to tell you what happened?"

He nodded profusely.

(link to the optional smut right here)

[tatooedlaura-blog]

Five Words

I’m back again ... this time with a requested ‘Leonard Betts’ follow-up ...

this tried to kill me a little bit ... not lying ...

@laurenclare88 @today-in-fic

&&&&&&&&&&

No surprise to either Mulder or Scully, he was awake when she called, “hey, it’s me.”

“Hey, me, you okay?” Twisting his head back to see the clock behind him, “it’s almost midnight.”

“Feel like getting some hot chocolate? Coffee? Platter of waffles the size of your head?”

He heard something in her voice, and not sure if she’d been crying or sound asleep until five seconds before she called, he sat up, “well, Waffles and Stuff is open and in the middle so we can meet there, if you’d like, or if we hit Rolls and Holes, I’ll come pick you up.”

It was actually called Benny’s Café but they specialized in homemade cinnamon rolls and peanut butter donut holes, hence Mulder’s highly inappropriate, yet completely fitting, nickname.

She didn’t laugh like she normally did, juvenile as the nickname was, and he headed towards his shoes, wondering what could have happened since he left her yawning, at her front door, two hours ago, “Waffles and Stuff is fine. See you in ten.”

She must already be in the car because it took ten minutes to get there. Hurrying now, he tossed on a sweatshirt, then his jacket, heading out the door a minute later, turning left for the stairs instead of right to the elevator because hoofing it would be faster. The car ride there was quiet, traffic light, pavement dry.

Waffles and Stuff was empty this time of night, and as he parked, he spotted her already in their booth in the corner, having graduated from the counter a year or so back. Waving to both the cook and lone waitress, Max and Catherine as they had learned some time ago, he slid into the bench across from his partner, “fancy meeting you here.”

She didn’t feel like banter tonight, heavy burden weighing but not forming concrete thoughts able to be spoken out loud just yet. Instead, “you want to split the waffles or fly solo?”

“Scully.”

Hands on the table, she raised one in his direction, fingers waving absently, wrist bobbing in a ‘give me some time’ gesture, “I think I’d like to split a set of Belgian with extra butter and get bacon and sausage on the side. How’s that sound?”

Now she was just freaking him out. Stopping her flopping hand, “Scully? What happened? Is it your mom? Bill? Talk to me, please?”

She jerked her hand away from him, nearly taking out her water glass in the process, “just … they’re fine … I just …” frustration made her words stutter, nostrils flare, jaw tighten for a moment, “I haven’t …”

Not pushing in the moment, he leaned forward, holding his pointer finger up to stop Catherine’s approach, “do you want to eat here or get it to go? We can share in the car if you want.”

Eyes shutting, she took a deep breath, palms flat on Formica. Exhaling slowly, she found her center for a brief second, “just some hot chocolate for now.”

Mulder called the order to Catherine, adding a ‘thanks’ before returning to Scully, speaking slowly again, “are you okay?”

Her head shook a ‘no’, eyes glued to the table, fingers white. Mulder’s stomach tightened but venturing a guess that she’d had a nightmare about Betts and couldn’t form the words yet, he nodded, trying again to touch her, tracing his fingers over the cold knuckles on the back of her hand, “you’re fine here, okay? We can stay as long as you like.”

Caught between crying and screaming, she let him run his fingers over her for another moment before sliding back, hands dropping to lap as eyes bounced from his chin, then to his chest before landing on his still extended hand, “I didn’t mean to wake you up.”

She knew damn well she didn’t wake him up, but both realized she needed to steer them back to middle ground, neutral conversation, “you didn’t. I was watching ‘Golden Girls’.”

Not knowing this particular vice, she met his green eyes, almost smiling, “who’s your favorite?”

“Um, Sophia. What kind of asinine question is that?”

Hot chocolate arrived amidst the debate of Sophia vs. Rose and ordering their smorgasbord, things stayed light through another side of bacon and a second helping of hot chocolate. Stuffed by 1:15am, Mulder saw her drifting away again, heaviness settling where frivolity had been moments earlier. Tapping her ankle with his shoe lightly, she didn’t startle but refocused on him, “that better be you.”

Continuing, “it is.”

“Good. Otherwise, we’ll never be able to come here again.”

Catherine somehow managed to clean their table without disturbance, in, out, feeling the odd pall over them. Neither so much as glanced her way.

Subtly lifting his leg, he set his foot on the booth beside her, preventing any escape from his next questions, “what happened? Did you have a nightmare about Betts? Did you see something? Hear something?” He felt microscopic pressure against his ankle as her thigh muscles tensed to move but he held steady, not letting her leave. Voice dropping to a whisper, he leaned forward, “you’re starting to freak me out.”

Her face crumbled for a moment, then snapped back to normal 1 am, shifting gears a third time when her eyebrows crashed together, lip curling, chin wobbling in an instant, then back to normal. The gambit of emotions that crossed her face in under four seconds was heart-wrenching and Mulder followed along, panic about to overrun control.

Moving his foot, he shifted in beside her, arm around her shoulder, fear growing exponentially, his voice wobbling quietly in her ear, “what happened?”

“Betts told me I had something he needed.”

With the speed of a fucking bullet, realization froze his heart, and his other arm completed the circle around her, pulling her into his shoulder, burying his face in her hair, “Betts in a psychopathic fucker.” She couldn’t quite find words to tell him about the bloody nose that had sent her spiraling so she tried to move closer instead, wishing for a way to crawl into his lap without rebuke or reprisal. Ice still coursing through his veins, he choose denial mode as opposed to depths of despair, comfort instead of chaos, “he’s certifiable, Scully, why would you give him a second thought? A first thought, even?”

When she didn’t respond, he let go of her, standing, tossing money on the table and taking her hand, “come on.”

When he pulled away from her, she nearly sobbed, missing him in that second more than she’d missed him in … well … possibly ever. Seeing his extended hand started the roller coaster all over again and shifting, she followed in silence, little hand wrapped in big, not waving goodnight to their hosts, not seeing anything but his jacket inches from her nose.

Her nose.

And the slightest headache thrumming behind it.

She stumbled over the curb, running into his back, catching herself before hitting the ground. Her control was gone, her walls blown to hell, her mind focused on five words, four years, three drops of blood, two people, one soul and the suddenly ticking timebomb of a six-letter word.

She couldn’t say it.

Mulder had her face in his hands, trying to comprehend the unimaginable, eyes darting between hers, betraying any kind of cool exterior both knew he didn’t have, “you’re fine, Scully. You are going to be fine. Betts is … was … and ever shall be … nothing to us. He wanted to get under your skin and he knew how and he did it and he’s burning in hell right now and you can’t listen to anything he said. Do you hear me?”

Held still by large palms and calloused fingers, she let the tears escape, her voice reaching his ears in a wet, spitty, stilted stutter, “you … you didn’t hear … how he said it … Mulder. He … he had sympathy in his words, the look …” eyes closed for a moment, swallowing hard, “he looked genuinely sorry.” Choking inhale in, one sob shook both to their core, “he wasn’t saying it to be cruel. He was saying it … to be kind … and he’s dead and he can’t … he could have …”

Shaking his head, he finally pulled her into a hug, most of her upper body disappearing into his embrace, “he couldn’t have done anything, Scully. He removed tumors because he needed them. Doctors do the same thing. He didn’t cure, Scully,” he kept saying her name, needing to hear it out loud, prove she was still standing in front of him, his denial in place but his fear still winning, “he removed. Doctors cure, he mangled, he cut, he … he couldn’t have helped you but Leonard Betts doesn’t matter anymore because your fine and he’s gone and he was just fucking with your head because he could. He would have said the same thing to me had I been in the ambulance with you. I know enough about these people to know it would have ended with that phrase regardless of who was in the truck.”

Neither was sure who he was trying harder to convince and neither dwelled on it.

Instead, she stayed up on the curb while Mulder was one notch below in the gutter, hug evened out, height difference conquered with concrete and asphalt. A cone of silence enveloped them, traffic noise, barking dogs, airplanes overhead, all fading away, until, Scully, mess of emotions somewhat in check, spoke quietly into his chest, “will you take me home?”

“Of course.”

&&&&&&&&&&&&

Leaving his car behind, he drove hers to her apartment, both climbing stairs and locking doors behind. Her microwave clock now read 2:09am as she held out her hand to take his coat, walls still down, mind and heart exhausted, “would you mind sleeping in with me tonight? I wouldn’t normally ask but …” sentence running off to nowhere, she waited, eyes pleading in that Scully way.

“You got any sweats for me?”

Once in bed, not as awkwardly as either expected, they remained a civil distance apart but facing each other, eyes tired, eyes burning, eyes not breaking contact for fear the other would disappear in the time of a blink. Mulder, desperate to reach out to her, kept his hands to himself, “you’re fine. You will always be fine. You’ll go to the doctor if you need to tomorrow and he’ll tell you there’s nothing to worry about and then we’ll go ride roller coaster somewhere or run through the fountains of DC naked in celebration that I was right and you were wrong.”

She had already planned the following morning in her head but staying silent about that, she instead flashed him a small smile, trying her best to make it look genuine, to force her eyes to sparkle in amusement just enough to allow him to fall asleep in peace, “naked, huh?”

He saw through her bullshit like she was a plate glass window, “not on the roller coasters.”

“Oh, no. Definitely not on the roller coasters.”

Trying to keep his voice steady, “you’re going to be fine.”

Finally reaching towards him, his hand met hers halfway, “I know.”

&&&&&&&&&&

Sleep eluded him, preferring to listen to her stuffy inhale than to drift into slumber but even the great Fox Mulder eventually had to give in to sleep, drifting off around 4:15. Scully, faking until 3:30, woke at 5:45, slipping out of bed, five-minute shower, out the door by 6:30, leaving her partner behind.

Three favors later, she was trying to hold herself together in the MRI tube, magnets banging, head aching, muscles tensing with each new sound. How could that machine capture anything when her mind was racing so fast the images should just be a blur of thoughts, smudged terror captured in black and white, brought to you by the marvels of science?

She wished he was there so she could hold his hand.

&&&&&&&&&&&

Mulder could fake a few things as well. He woke when she left the bed, stayed still, eyes shut, while he listened to her shower. He heard her come back in, sort through her closet, open dresser drawers, felt the air in the room change as she did, donning armor for her day ahead. She was at the foot of the bed so not in his possible waking view but to know she was comfortable enough to do her routine with him asleep five feet away made him quake inside. He held it together, even as she returned to the room, keys lightly clinking in hand, to give him a lingering kiss on the cheek, to brush his hair back as her thumb ran over his forehead.

He waited five minutes after he heard the front door lock before rolling over, stretching, missing her beating heart and radiating heat. Staring at the ceiling when done, he refused to ponder, instead, two grunts and a back crack later, he was up, standing, heading to the shower.

Problem was, the warm water, the smell of her soap, the view of damp towel on rack and dry one beside, just for him, caught him off-guard. Halfway through soaping up, he broke down, standing under the water, sobbing tears covered by loud water pinging off the walls. He gave himself what felt like five minutes before straightening back up, finishing his shampoo and wash, ending with a steamy-mirrored pep talk during which he convinced himself Scully would be just fine.

Making the bed, he headed out, calling a cab to get him to the diner, then driving himself home, waiting impatiently for a phone call he knew was inevitable. He could have heading to the basement, he could have taken a nap, he could have stared at the wall and had a panic attack the size of Montana but instead, he read his email, his phone never far from his hand.

&&&&&&&&&&

Scully saw the mass, a bright white spot of dread in her sinus cavity, doctor explaining, in the background, diagnosis and treatment options, but most of her attention was filled with it.

It.

IT.

That thing settled comfortably next to her brain.

IT.

Mesmerized, she nodded when they asked if she’d like to be alone for a minute; if she would like to call someone.

And then it was quiet, the snick of the shutting door the only noise in the room.

Leaving just her and the bright white mass on the light board.

“Mulder. Could you come down to the hospital, please?”

She could hear it in his voice as he said, “which area?”

“Oncology.”

The sound of a fight building. The sound of defiance taking root.

Or denial.

“I’m on my way.”

[helloprettybb]

makes everything better

Hey everybody, I told myself I wasn’t going to create deadlines for myself, but I really wanted to release something. It takes place around now, but IW didn’t happen so Steve is like 36 and the reader is in her mid-twenties. Bucky is the only one really mentioned, but just know, Tony and Nat are still alive. 

summary- you and Steve are perfect for each other. you finish each other’s sentences, think of the same jokes and act practically the same. the two of you are so in sync and it drives Bucky crazy that you aren’t together already.

warnings- age gap, cursing, accidental fault in our stars reference oops

word count- 1.4k

“What do we need...” you drift off, opening and closing the kitchen cabinets. Looking for whatever needs replacements, you scan the pantry. “Okay, we need-”

“Graham crackers,” Steve finishes your sentence as he walks into the kitchen. You nod and type it into the list on your phone. Steve gives you a once over when he sees you making the list on your phone. You roll your eyes playfully as you continue to create the list. 

You jump between the pantries, fridge, and freezer. You and Steve dance around each other as he writes his list, on paper of course. From an outside perspective, the scene looked insane as you went under his arm or he slid behind you. But for some reason, the rhythmic chaos moved smoothly as the two of you made separate lists. 

The first time you went grocery shopping, you only made a digital list and unfortunately, your phone died and left you relying on your memory. The second time, you didn’t make a list on your phone and trusted Steve’s paper one. But when he emptied his pockets, he realized he left it by his motorcycle keys, which were still at home since you forced him to take you in a car. From then on, you went together and both made your own lists in case of an emergency. You get pulled out of your element when you hear Steve ask, “Ooh, did you add the-”

“Trail mix.” you say. “Yep, I even put down the specific Peanut Butter Monster. Because someone threw a fit last time.” You say the last part a little louder, knowing Bucky is only ten feet away in the common room. As expected, he pops up and whips his head at you.

“I did not! I nicely asked why you didn’t buy the ones I asked for,” Bucky replies defensively, completely ignoring the fact that he sulked in his room when he saw you bought the wrong ones.

“Sure,” you respond sarcastically, “Besides, I don’t see how the Monster trail mix is that much different from the Peanut Butter Monster.” You’re looking down at your list and comparing it to Steve’s. Occasionally, you quietly point out items he’s missed and vice versa, but for the most part, your lists are the same.

Apparently, your blasphemous comments about trail mix set Bucky off, since you feel his looming presence enter the kitchen. “You don’t understand, y/n. The Peanut Butter Monster has peanut-butter-coated pretzel balls, mini peanut butter cups, and Peanut M&M’s!” Bucky exclaims. You glance over at Steve as Bucky points out the differences between the two. 

You lock eyes with Steve and he laughs a little, biting his lip to stay quiet enough for Bucky to not hear. You laugh with him, but yours is loud enough for Bucky to pick up. “Laugh all you want, but don’t come crawling back to me when you want my trail mix,” Bucky gloats. He leans against the counter and asks, “Why do you two go grocery shopping anyway?”

“Because it’s fun,” you both murmur, heads still down and eyes glued between the lists. Bucky scoffs at your responses. He’s silent for a while and you think that he left until he finally speaks up again.

“Okay, spit it out.” his blunt tone draws both of your attentions. Lifting your heads, you and Steve look up at Bucky in confusion.

“Spit what out?” you ask, furrowing your brows. Judging by Bucky’s short laugh, Steve must be mimicking your expression. 

“Why are you really grocery shopping?” Bucky narrows his eyes like he’s trying to solve a murder mystery. He raises his hand to his chin and rests his elbow under his left arm. He looks the both of you up and down like you’re his lab experiments.

“What are we, your lab experiments?” you ask, and coincidentally enough, Steve says the exact same thing, in the exact same way and of course, at the exact same time. Bucky ignores your comment and proceeds to investigate the two of you.

“Hm, talking the same, acting the same,” he eyes you up again, “And even dressing the same,” You look down at your clothes and then Steve’s and what a surprise, you’re dressed the same even down to your shoes.” You must be together!” Bucky concludes.

You immediately protest, “No, that’s-”

“Ridiculous!” Steve finishes.

“You’re so in-sync that you’re practically the same fucking people!” You and Steve mutter language under your breaths and you’ve never regretted picking up that habit more than now. 

”No, we’re not. And besides, I have a date tonight,” you tell him, hoping he’ll ease up.

”With who?” Bucky questions inquisitively, flitting his eyes toward Steve.

”None of your business,” you shut down, “Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m going grocery shopping before the store gets too crowded.” You leave and Steve follows after you, essentially ending the conversation and leaving Bucky alone with his furrowed brow and gritted teeth.

“I can’t believe he asked that!” you complain, slamming the car door a little harder than you intended. You cross your arms in frustration. Steve takes in your anger and laughs a little.

“It’s okay, doll. I promise he doesn’t know.” Steve assures as he opens the garage. He pulls the car out and lets his hand rest on your thigh, a gesture meant to calm you down. 

It works a little and you huff, “Fine, but still. He’s just going to keep asking and I don’t know how we can hide this any longer.” You look down at the hand on your thigh to avoid Steve’s gaze.

You and Steve have been dating for nearly six months. There are millions upon millions of reasons you didn’t tell the team, but one of the main reasons is how they’ll treat you. You’re scared the whole team dynamic will be flipped onto its head once they learn your status with Steve. What if they judge you for dating Steve, who’s nearly nine years your senior. Or even worse, they opt to kick you off the team.

Steve parks the cark and seeming to sense your worry, says, “What if we don’t have to?”

You look up at him and ask, “What?” While you were the one to suggest keeping your relationship secret, Steve didn’t seem to have any qualms about it. Occasionally, you could tell he’d be frustrated that he couldn’t just kiss you in front of everyone or have you in his lap while the team had a movie night.

“What if we just tell them?” Steve proposes, eyes unsure yet hopeful. It’s a big step in your relationship, but it’s one your ready to take with him.

You’ve been silent for too long. Steve’s insecurity is clear and he resembles the scrawny kid from Brooklyn more than the super soldier sitting before you. “Okay,” you say quietly, giving him a small smile.

“Okay?” Steve asks, relief slowly filling his eyes and color returning to face. 

“Yes, Steve. I-I wanna tell them.” you admit, smile widening. You’ve never seen Steve so happy as he sweeps you into his arms and pulls you onto his lap. Pulling you into a deep kiss, he shocks you a bit with his balance of passion and gentleness. Lost in his lips, you feel warmth, happiness, and love. 

He pulls away a little and asks, “How are we going to tell them?” You think for a moment with your hands rested on his broad shoulders. 

Smoothing your hands over his shoulders, you suggest, “How about we tell them tonight over dinner? We’ll buy a cake for good measure,”

Steve tilts his head and asks, “Why cake?”

“Because,” you shrug, “It makes everything better.” Steve smiles and you lean back into him and connect your lips. Steve wraps his arms around your torso and you sigh lightly, feeling safe in his strong arms.

-

“Oh shit, Steve forgot his wallet.” Bucky thinks as he spots the brown wallet on the counter. He looks at the garage’s camera and sees that Steve’s car is missing. Stepping outside just in case you’re still there, Bucky walks out and sees the car parked in the driveway.

Walking down the pavement toward the car, Bucky thinks his ears pick up a moan, but he ignores it. And probably one of the dumbest decisions he’s ever made, he opens the driver’s seat door.

Well, at least you don’t need the cake anymore.

[slothspaghettiwrites]

Me thinking about Justin running his fingers through freezy’s hair. Part of me thinks Robert wouldn’t allow it but another part of me is like,,I’ve never in my life met a man that didn’t melt into a puddle when you run your fingers through their hair to help them relax. It could be an act of service tbh

Absolutely OOC soft!Robert here. Justin's maybe found his weakness. (I so agree, everyone melts when you play with their hair just right.)

His head was pounding, the fluorescent lights burned his eyes. Robert threw his glasses onto the stupid tiny desk and rubbed his eyes. Every time he stood up he felt sick, so he crawled into Justin's bed and tired to sleep. Foot steps outside and the loud fuckers hanging out about don't make it easy.

"You okay?"

Princess really needs to shut the fuck up. Robert raises his middle hand finger and groans, rolling further away from the light and sound. There's rustling around the cell before it gets darker. He only opens his eyes when the rickety ass bunk dips. Justin offers him a cup of water and he downs it without really moving. The sheets from his bunk are draped around this bed to block out the lights.

"Fuck you doin'?" He groans, the words slurred out of his mouth. Even moving his jaw hurts and he hasn't got a fucking clue why.

Fingers weave into his hair and gentle massage his scalp. The pressure built up in his skull slightly eases, as does the tension in his neck. Justin doesn't lay down on the bunk, just keeps working his finger over Robert's scalp until he drifts off to sleep.

He wakes up surrounded by darkness with an arm wrapped around him. The residual pain in his head doesn't throb or burn and the darkness of the stupid sheets is nice. Justin is sleeping behind him with hand still holding his head.

"Daddy," he mumbles when Robert moves.

"Wake the fuck up princess, we missed fucking dinner."

"Hungry? Got peanut butter crackers," he rolls out of bed slowly without moving the make shift curtain too much but Robert still winces a bit.

"I don't want your fucking crackers, is there any pain killers?"

A moment later two white tablets and the cup of water is back. Robert knocks them back and lays down again. He runs his own fingers over his temples but it's not the same. The pressure remains in his head.

He doesn't even think. Robert grabs his princess and outs his hands on his head. Justin reacts quickly but his hands are slow. He groans when Justin scratches gently at his scalp. Silences passes for a moment before Robert looks over his shoulder and asks, "where do you learn this shit?"

Justin hums low and soft, he knows not to lie to Daddy. "At the psych ward, I was on a lotta meds, they gave me migraines. This was the best way to manage them."

Robert makes a noncommittal huff, tries to act unimpressed and unaffected by this shit. As he's drifting off again, he moves Justin's arm back around him.

"Don't get any fucking ideas, princess."

[fruitcoops]

I'd LOVE to read 14. and 25. with Leo being stressed because the family is coming and he really wants to have a dessert or something. And Logan, being dramatic as he is, the next morning he kinda wants to shock Leo, or sth like that. I'm sure you'd come up with something amazing!

Prompt 14: “Darling, I love you and all, but please step out of the kitchen”

Prompt 25: “We need to talk about what happened last night”

The first official O’Knutzy fic! God I love Leo Knut so much. Credit for these characters goes to the one and only @lumosinlove!

“Ow, fuck!” Leo dropped his knife and immediately stuck his thumb in his mouth.

The vacuum shut off in their bedroom. “Peanut, you okay?”

“I’m fine, Fish, just a little cut!” Despite his reassurance, Finn poked his head around the corner a moment later and frowned.

“You’re still in here?”

“Yeah, we’ve only got—” Leo glanced up at the clock and felt his stomach plummet. “Shit, three hours? We’ve got three hours until your parents get here and I don’t even have dessert done.”

“Babe, you’ve been in the kitchen all day,” Finn said as he propped his chin on Leo’s shoulder and kissed behind his ear.

“That’s not true, I went to Target with Logan earlier.” Leo leaned back into his chest and exhaled slowly through his nose. “That isn’t helping my case at all, is it?”

“Not really. Lo! Emergency meeting in the kitchen!”

There was a rustle and a muffled curse from the living room before Logan appeared, hopping on one foot. “Desolé, I stubbed my toe. Emergency meeting?”

“It’s not an emergency,” Leo protested. “I have to get this done.”

“We have to get this done,” Logan corrected, sliding across the tile into Leo’s arms. “This is a team effort.”

“Communicate to score!” Finn laughed as both of them smacked him on the bicep in unison.

“Neither of you can cook,” Leo said. “If you want to help, you can get me a bandaid and finish cleaning.”

“Nope, we’re helping.” Logan stood on his toes to press a loud kiss to Leo’s forehead and grinned. “Then we’ll finish even faster and have time for a nap.”

They spent the next hour bumping elbows in the kitchen while Logan and Finn mixed cookie dough and Leo finished slicing tomatoes for the soup. He sported a brand-new Spiderman bandaid—sealed with two kisses, of course—and did his best to avoid the massive amounts of flour that puffed up from the bowl.

“Did you add both the eggs?” he asked. There was a moment of quiet, then a light cracking noise.

“…yes.”

“Good, they’d be puddles without it.” Leo added the tomatoes and tried to hide his smile. “Burned puddles of charcoal. I’m so glad you two know how to bake and don’t need any reminders at all.”

The first batch of cookies went into the oven with an hour and a half to spare and Leo’s stress drained away. He pressed his forehead into Finn’s collarbones with a happy sigh; his eyelids were growing heavier by the second. “Alright, naptime,” Finn said, patting the back of his head. “C’mon, Knutty.”

“I have to make sure the cookies don’t burn.” Leo stifled a yawn and snuggled closer.

“You’ve done so much today,” Logan said as he hugged him from behind and tugged him toward the door. “Darling, I love you and all, but please step out of the kitchen.”

Using ‘darling’ was a cheater’s move, but it did the trick. Leo stretched out on the couch, tangling his legs with Finn’s as Logan set three different timers for the food. The smell of warm vanilla was the last thing he registered before falling asleep.

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

Leo woke up the next morning to the scent of sugar and an empty bed. He frowned into his pillow; he was the early riser of the three, and he knew for a fact Finn had stayed up late reading after their parents went home. Is that…pancakes? Leo sniffed the air and sat up, scrunching his nose against the daylight from the window. “Fish? Lo?”

“In here!” Two voices called.

Leo padded out of the bedroom and stretched his arms over his head. “Where did you go?”

“The kitchen,” Finn said over a loud sizzling noise.

“No, I mean for breakfast. Something smells really good…wait, what?” Finn and Logan stood at the counter in their pajamas with a mess of bowls around them and no less than three pans on the stove. “You’re cooking.”

“Yeah!” Finn pecked him lightly on the lips and turned back to the pancakes.

“You’re cooking breakfast.”

“Mmhmm.” Logan prodded the bacon and squinted at it. “I think these are done.”

“Smells done.” Leo peered over their shoulders. “Why are you cooking breakfast?”

Finn tapped his hand with his pancake spatula and spun around with a serious expression. “We need to talk about what happened last night.”

Leo raised his eyebrows. “We do? I thought it went well.”

“You were stressed and we didn’t really notice until, like, three hours before a bunch of people came over.” Finn wrapped one arm around Leo’s waist and kissed his cheek. “My mom sent me a ton of texts this morning about how good dinner was, by the way.”

“We wanted to do something special for you as a thank-you,” Logan said as he curled into Leo’s other side, flipping the bacon onto a plate. “Also, we’re very, very sorry for leaving you alone in the kitchen instead of helping.”

“I love you both so much, but it’s really not a problem,” Leo said, soaking in their warmth. “I was only stressed because of the parents.”

“Still.” Finn knocked their hips together, and Logan made a low ‘oof’ noise on his other side. “Next time, family dinner is going to be a threesome thing.” Leo cocked an eyebrow at him and his face reddened. “Not like—fuck, I meant like an all-three-of-us-are-involved event, not a threesome threesome.”

“No, by all means, keep talking,” Leo laughed. “This is getting better and better.”

“Shut up and eat your pancakes, Nutter Butter.”