him holding a knife is

anonymous asked:

Soft couch sex with Anti is great and all, but him forcing you to bend over the arm of it, wrists are taped together while he teases you with his fingers. The dull edge of his knife pressed under your chin when he finally sinks his cock into you. Pulling you to stand up and hissing in your ear. "Better fucking listen to me, bad things could happen if you don't." But after hes so soft, mumbling how he couldn't ever hurt you like that, there's nothing to be afraid of when hes holding the knife

Man oh man do I love him, there has been a serious lack of the glitch bitch lately


12x23 | All Along the Watchtower

I love, love, love the acting choices Mark made in this scene. In the script, what we have is mainly a dialogue between Sam and Crowley, with Sam asking all the important questions. Yet Crowley is mainly looking at Dean. (And also moves closer to him, never mind that Dean is still holding Ruby’s knife!) The “I hate it” thus sounds like a personal confession, the “forgive my transgression” like a person plea for forgiveness from the one person Crowley cares about. And that’s beautiful.


Nori stopping other dwarves from tearing Bard a new one

the minyard bond

The Minyard twins rarely get along. Nicky spent good hours of his life playing therapist but the two were impossibly stubborn. Eventually they would be able to align each other’s interest by having a mutual hatred for something or someone, but that was difficult because Andrew was pretty apathetic and Aaron rarely wanted to correspond. 

until one day they just did. 

It was a fluke, unloading the bus at 3am and exhausted. Neil was half asleep already, side of his face bruised up from the force of his helmet being shoved against the glass wall. Matt had whistled when he caught sight of the bruising, commenting on what a good thing it was that they wore helmets if that was the result. They had won but it was a long game, referees making it rain cards. 

Andrew was hauling up one of the bags of goalie gear when Aaron said almost thoughtfully from behind him, lifting a cooler up-”Hey what if we had a third twin named Arnold but he lives in a mansion and has a pony would that be fucked up or what”

He had turned around and given his twin a look. “I should’ve eaten u in the womb”

They didn’t mention it again that night, trudging their way back to their respective dorm rooms, watching Matt try to get Neil walking in a straight line. 


Two weeks later after a light practise Andrew turned to look at Aaron in the locker room. “I bet Arnold would wear polo shirts.” Everyone gave him a weird look but Aaron gave a surprising wolf like grin as he shoved his helmet deep into the locker. 

“Boat shoes.” 

The two nodded to one another and then returned to their own respective silences. 

It was Kevin who announced what everyone else was thinking. “What the actual fuck?”


It was a constant thing, either Andrew or Aaron bringing up Arnold’s not real existence. “He’d eat kale chips,” Andrew decided. 

“Probably does charity work.” Aaron would nod in agreement. 

“Competitive chess player,” the two declared in perfect harmony. 


It was Neil who had the misfortune of being paired with Arnold Mayes from his mandatory English elective. It was his worst class due to his tendency to scramble up verbs and tenses (it was hard to keep strictly English when German, french, Polish and bits of Spanish would creep in.).

He wasn’t thrilled about working with Arnold, due with the guy’s insistent belief that they were somehow good friends (hopefully sliding further along that relationship, the way Arnold would hint.) and also the fact that Arnold Mayes had a slight resemblance of Andrew and Aaron with his blond hair and attachment to wearing black. He was quite a bit taller though, close enough to Kevin’s irritating height. 

Andrew discovered first, his class partner, and immediately in the middle of Arnold introducing himself pulled out his phone, opened the rarely used snapchat app that Renee had coaxed him into downloading and took a picture of the still talking Arnold to send to Aaron. 


Both despised Arnold. There was an unsettling way about how he liked leaning closer to Neil, in Andrew’s opinion, and he refused to figure out that Andrew and Aaron were not the same person. They were also highly biased against his basic existence. 

Neil came home one day to finding Andrew sitting at his work desk looking proud and was informed that he wouldn’t have to meet Arnold the following the day since he did his work for him. He threw a handful of printed papers at Neil that landed in a flutter. 

“That was unnecessary.” Neil informed him as he looked at the pages explaining how stupid the project was. “Pretty sure my assignment wasn’t drawing a picture of Arnold choking on-what are those? His shoes?”

“Yes.” Andrew said smugly. 


“How exactly are you going to kill him? He’s taller than both of you combined.” Kevin asked post practise when Aaron mentioned the partner. 

“Break his knee caps.” Andrew stated smugly when Aaron said at the same time, “Tackle the piece of shit.”

Kevin looked alarmed. 


Aaron came home from a late practise to find Neil and Arnold sitting at the kitchen table together, the space in between them somehow shrinking as Arnold slid his chair a few inches closer each time. Neil was close to tilting out of his chair in his efforts in subtle avoidance, jabbing aggressively at a flow chart. 

He yanked a chair out from the other side of the table and shoved it in between the two, plopping down stubbornly. “This looks stupid. Did you design this chart, Arnold? This is such a stupid chart.” 


Eventually Arnold Mayes went away after the project was completed (this was ensured by Andrew grabbing him in a dark alley and holding a knife to his throat) but the general hatred for possible Arnold Minyards remained an essential element to their conversation. They would comb through twitter, facebook and instagram for all users with that name and block them. One reporter was banned from attended press conferences because his name was Arnold and blond hair was a major red flag for the two (the reason was never really decided well but at the time it slid by surprisingly well until three years later Allison stated in an interview about them still bonding over hypothetical triplet status.)

It got to the point they would send each other Christmas cards out of sheer spite, rather send one to each other than an Arnold. (”You know Arnold isn’t real?” Neil asked one day as Andrew was focused on picking out a suitable card. 

“You know that bitch might have a manson?” Andrew retorted, picking one with a cat on the front.)


No one really understood the Arnold thing. 

inspired by: 



It’s time… to stop talking

I don't want Anti to have a redemption Arc.

I know. I KNOW.
“But impulse weren’t you all ‘team Anti’ and 'save anti’ two days ago?”
I was and I still am but hear ask yourself this:

How many villains get a redemption arc? How many times do we do a song and dance of hating and fearing the bad guy until we find out he’s just misunderstood and then praise him as he switches sides?
Happens pretty freaking often doesn’t it?

Now think back on all those “redeemed” characters and you’ll notice a pattern. After switching sides and becoming a “good” guy they lose half of what made them stand out.

Okay now back to Anti. He was AWAYS meant to be the bad guy. The antagonist. The one who calls us out on just idly watching and playing favorites.
The dark splash on Jacks otherwise cheery channel and he needs to stay that way.

What I mean by save Anti is this: Save him just this once.

I don’t want him to change. I would honestly be a little upset if he crossed over to being good.
All I want and all I think he needs to switch it up from his normal antics is this:

A moment of clarity.

Just one brief moment of trust in us fans.

I want to see him angry and triumphant over the other egos, them laying beaten and bloody at his feet. I want him to drag Chase (or the fandom fave at the time) up by the hair and go in for the kill only to hesitate.
For words to glitch on the screen.
Our words. Talking about how we love him. How we want to see more of him. How exciting and crazy it is to interact with him.

Most importantly I want him to see a fandom that, for the time being, loves him and just him.
I think it would floor him.
Just imagine Anti holding Chase up by the hair with his knife pressed tight against his throat freeze. The manic grin fade from his face and glitching slow down.

“Do you mean it?”

He looks straight at the camera when his asked this, voice a soft static and he’s gone. The video ends with Chase trying to wake the others and faint zalgo text in the background: Don’t forget this.

Can you imagine the hype after that? Suddenly Anti is the talk of the town fan art after fan art. Fiction and edits everywhere all about him. He finally has what he has always wanted.

The fandom.

But as always, the hype dies and the fandom goes back to fawning over Jack.
But he trusts us. We love him now right? There’s no way we forgot.

Marvin gets a new power hour…
Everything is suddenly flooded with fans cheering for the magician.

“It’s okay! He can have his turn. They love me too. They said so…”

Schneeps returns with his silly antics.
“They’ll include me this time right? They also draw us together! There’s no way they could have forgotten already….”

Time and time again everyone else got to appear and time and time again everyone cheered for them. Again Anti would be left out. A gimmick. A side show. Nothing worth paying attention to once everything was said and done.

Chase gets a new video and that’s where Anti will draw the line.
He’ll reappear and this time he’ll make sure we don’t forget.

Tl/Dr :
I want to save Anti and have him put his trust in us only for us to let him down. Because once the hype dies he’ll be pushed to the side again and even if he isn’t he wouldn’t truly believe us anyway would he?
And he’d make us pay for tricking him.

You’re No Brother Of Mine.

Yeah. Yeah, that’s probably a good idea. Sorry. Anon requested- Hey! I was wondering if you could write an imagine with this scenario, when Dean went to hell Sam went nuts ofc so he dropped their little sister (15/16 yo) in Bobby’s place and when Dean gets back he is pissed w Sam for what he did to you. You are also pissed and very upset w him, so one day he asks you what’s the matter and you explode and tell him how painful it was to be left by him and everything. I know it’s very specific but I would rlly aprecciate if you do it, can you also put fluffy?

Warnings- swearing, mentions of depression, also Sam’s kinda a dick for the first couple of paragraphs but he was high on the demon blood so that explains it.

A/N- I’ve kind of been stuck in a slump for the past week, so writing has been difficult for me but i’m feeling a bit better so i’m ready to write again!


Four months, it had been four months since Dean died, four months since Sam left you. You still didn’t understand why he left, at first you didn’t mind, you knew he needed his space after all he did witness his brother getting torn to shreds by a Hell hound. 

After a week of you staying at Bobby’s you became curious, you had rung and texted Sam numerous times but he never answered, your phone would always go to voice mail or it would just ring non-stop. After a month of silence you decided to try and track him, you tried to keep it a secret from Bobby, he thought you and Sam talked everyday, that’s what you told him. 

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Officers showed on scene to a domestic disturbance call a four-year-old answered the door a woman came to the door and let the officers in they searched the house for about 20 minutes before finding the male in the closet holding a butcher’s knife the officers told him multiple times to drop the knife before tazing him twice when he refused and lunged at the officer with the body cam footage that you are watching now the officer fired three shots one striking him in the head and killing him.

psycho 01 / taehyung

Originally posted by bossybishqueenbaozi

summary: ‘’scared of me?’’

note: okay so I got inspired to do a imagine of y/n and taehyung because of the japanese version of blood sweat & tears 

warning and a note: this story has some sexual harassment in it so if you are uncomfortable with reading this kind of story please stop right here, i understand this might be hurtful to some people but this is just my crazy imagination and I’m sorry if you have ever experienced anything like this and I also wish this doesn’t happen to anyone ever, i know that taehyung isn’t like this in real life this is just a story


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(Part 2) | (Part 3)


Y/N’s curious, clumsy, and has a knack for asking the wrong questions at the wrong time. Bucky’s a hot-headed prick with a dark past and communication issues. Both are paired for training, and neither party is all too thrilled. 

Word count: 1200 

“This is the training room.”

You nod even though you’re barely processing anything you’re being told.

Three days ago you’d woken up in an abandoned warehouse, with no idea where you were or how you’d gotten there. There were significant gaps in your memory and a you were in lot of pain. Then someone in a red metal suit had entered your field of vision, frowning, and you’d passed out, wondering if it was all some kind of dream. When you’d come to for the second time, you were in the infirmary and this man, (Steve?), started saying something  about a group of enhanced individuals and you being one of them. It took all your willpower to not pass out again.

“We don’t know what your abilities are, but given your enhancements, people are going to come after you. It’s important that you learn to defend yourself.”

You’re still not sure what ‘abilities’ he’s talking about, or what he means by 'enhancements’.

“Training is usually carried out by Natasha or Wanda,” Steve’s speaking again, barely taking notice of you staring at him with eyes wider than plates. “But since they’re away on a mission, we’ll have to find someone else to train you.”  

You nod your head, still trying to understand everything. The names are meaningless to you, and you’re not too keen on getting trained by anyone, especially not if they all have the same stressed out demeanor that Steve seems to radiate. There’s a dull headache beginning to throb at the back of your skull, and honestly, you just need to close your eyes for a bit.

“We should go speak to Fury.”

As if you know who that is. You just nod and follow after him as he hurries along.

Everything about Director Nick Fury is unnerving, from the immaculate state of his office to the way his eye seems to be looking right through you. You swallow hard as he addresses Steve, keeping his eye trained on you the entire time.

“And we don’t know what her abilities are?”

You grit your teeth, still uncomfortable with all the talk of your abilities and your supposed enhancement. You can barely remember your own name.

“Not yet.”

Nick sighs and seems to be in deep thought. After a moment, he turns his body to you. “Can you shoot a gun?”

You look at him incredulously. A gun, you? You could barely hold a kitchen knife without fumbling with it. To hold, no, to shoot a gun? If this was any other situation, you might have laughed. Instead, you shake your head. “No, sir.”

He turns back to Steve. “Well, she’s going to have to learn. Barnes is the best sniper we’ve got. He’ll train her.”

Steve winces, and for a moment he looks like he’s about to say something else, but Fury turns his attention to the screen in front of him, clearly dismissing the two of you.

Steve leads you through the maze-like halls of the compound, until finally, you’re standing in front of large double doors. He pauses and looks to you with a sigh. He seems beat down, dark circles and pallid face. You almost sympathize, but then realize you probably look much the same.

“Bucky’s a good guy, Y/N. Just remember that.”

You’re not sure what he means, or why that’s even relevant, but you don’t have time to think as Steve pushes open the doors and strides inside before coming to a stop in a living-room of sorts, where two people are seated on the couch. Neither of them seem too happy to be in the other’s presence.

Upon seeing Steve, both of them stand, and the one to the right smiles brightly. He’s the first person you’ve seen that looks relaxed at the compound, wearing sweats and a t-shirt and an expression of genuine interest on his face.

“Captain,” he greets, but it’s more out of mock respect than a soldier-like salute, and even Steve’s eyes crinkle. You can tell their friendship goes a long way.  His brown eyes glance at you. His smile doesn’t waver, and it’s so contagious that you can’t hold back the smile that makes its way onto your lips.

If this is Barnes, then maybe training won’t be as bad as it sounds.

Your spare a glance at the person to his left, dressed in the same relaxing attire but looking nowhere near as calm. Every part of this man’s body language screams stress, from head to toe. Upon seeing you, his scowl deepens, and you drop your smile.

“Buck, you’re taking this round of training.”

The guy to the left grins and turns to you. “And I’m guessing she’s the one who needs training?”

Steve nods and you feel your erratic heartbeat slow down significantly. The warning that Steve had given you earlier disappears to the back of your head; the guy seems so chill and laidback, it’s a breather. You smile back, until–

“Oh man, good luck.”

The confusion must show on your face, because the guy turns to Mr. Scowls-A-Lot and claps him on the back. “Meet our resident Grinch, Bucky Barnes.”

Your heart drops to your stomach and Bucky glares at you, fingers curled into a fist. You want to ask him what put him in such a bad mood, but you’re not sure you’ll stay alive long enough to hear the answer.

“Can I talk to you for a moment, Steve?” Bucky’s jaw clenches and his face is slowly turning red. Even Steve, who seems to be in charge here, grimaces. With a sigh, he follows Bucky to the other corner of the room. You plop down onto the sofa.

“I’d say don’t worry but, I’d definitely worry.” You turn to the first guy, and he holds out his hand. “I’m Sam.”

“Y/N,” you shake it, then gesture to the duo in the corner, having a pretty heated conversation. “Is he always this…”

“Grumpy? Only on a good day.” When he sees your face pale even more, Sam laughs. “I’m just kidding. He takes some warming up to, but he’s not a bad guy.”

He repeats exactly what Steve had said, and for whatever reason, the words aren’t reassuring in the least. Bucky and Steve’s conversation seems to have escalated to loud whispers now, and you catch certain phrases here and there, “I don’t know… Nobody seems to… Can’t be trusted.”

The last one hits you hard, and you want to be angry, but Bucky’s right. You barely remember anything about yourself and you have supposed abilities that you’re pretty much in the dark about; even you can’t trust yourself.

The clock on the wall shows the time to be just past two in the morning, and just as the second hand makes its way around the face for the second time, Bucky walks up to you, fists clenched and breathing heavily through his nose.

“Meet me in the training room tomorrow morning. Six a.m. sharp.” He’s less than thrilled about the whole ordeal, and you can only match his level of discomfort.

As he storms out of the room, you throw your head back onto the couch and groan.

Tags below cut: 

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Baking Party

Pairings: Steve Rogers x Reader

Words: 2,530

Warnings: Fluff, Smut, Unprotected Sex (wrap it before you tap it)

Requested by: @i-have-a-wonky-eye-too

Request: I love your writing. Well done on being so amazing! Would appreciate you doing this, thank you… The reader teaches Steve how to bake and after the pair of them joking about and being all cute it just turns into good old smut in the kitchen. Thanks again x

A/N: This was fun to write!  Thanks @i-have-a-wonky-eye-too for getting me out of my writing funk!  I hope you enjoy! <3

“What are you doing?” Steve’s deep voice reverberated throughout the kitchen, startling you a bit causing you to jump and let out a yelp.  “Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you” he said after seeing you jump.

Your breath caught in your throat as you heard Steve’s voice as you turned to face him.  “No” you said waving your hand in the air, “It’s fine Steve. Just a bit jumpy after that last mission is all.”

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“Some people are meant to be loved and others just naked”

A/N: I got stuck with OTR and wanted to try something new. Basically this is businessman Harry, long af, smutty af and has daddy kink. Please tell me what you thought of it if you read it? I might start working on a second part if you like it. xx

Harry and Y/N are enemies in the business world but the perfect partners under the sheets.

Based on the song Wrong by Zayn ft. Kehlani

Part I. Part II. Part III. Part IV.

Originally posted by ohbabyyeah

Y/N is good at getting what she wants. Most of it, she won’t lie, is handed to her in a flash when she mentions her last name but she’s never felt one goddamn bit of shame for it. If there’s one thing she had been taught is to feel proud of her genes and with pride is how she shall use them to her advantage. She enjoys drawing out the tension when her high heels click into her office and everyone around her avoids direct eye contact in case she throws a fit or feels like firing them. Likes that whenever she has a special gala evening event her assistant’s phone blows up with designers begging her to wear their brands. Fucking loves being the heiress of a growing empire and she defends it mercilessly. A hustler in couture dresses and fresh manicure.

In rare occasions, though, almost once in a blue moon, Y/N gets told No. When she can’t use her father’s connections as a shield, she isn’t afraid to build her own and get to work.

“Styles Enterprises, how may I help you today?” the female voice squeaking bored Y/N to death. She decided to let the silence linger just for kicks. The girl on the line might’ve had nothing better to do, but she, on the other hand, was in the middle of chugging down her Cosmopolitan. What could that bimbo do about it, anyway? Y/N could get her fired with a snap of her fingers, didn’t even matter that she wasn’t her boss.

Speak of the devil, that fucker was dead.

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Bellamy Blake Imagine: Too Stubborn


Prompt: 26-”Come over here and make me.”,
12-”Quit it or I’ll bite.”

Summary: Bellamy and reader have feelings for each other, but are too stubborn to admit it so they instead keep pissing each other. However Octavia and Clarke wouldn’t just let it go and send them on a mission hoping it would force them to admit what they feel for each other.

Word count: 2020

Originally posted by dailyskypeople


“Put it down before you hurt yourself,” I rolled my eyes at the sound of Bellamy’s voice in which I could practically hear him smirking.

“Shut up before I hurt you,” I retorted not bothering to look at him because I knew exactly what I would find, him standing there with folded arms and amused look on his face.

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Originally posted by kurtwellers

Frank Castle x Reader

Warnings: angst

A/N: Frank angst coming your way! You can listen to THIS song while you read for an extra experience. Smut will be here soon too. Probably not tonight because I’m getting tired but soon.

You huffed as you lugged yourself up the stairs. You were fumbling with your keys when you heard familiar grunting coming from your doorway. You rounded the corner to see Frank, beat up and bleeding, leaning against your doorframe.

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She’s so Immature pt.1

So first, this was just a request for a HC that I imagined. Then I decided to write it myself…I have no self control.

It’s about an MC that is the complete opposite of “Jumin’s Type”. Yet, he somehow falls for her.

As soon as he met her, Jumin knew that MC was gonna be trouble. Not only did she have no filter, but she was stubborn, rude, and extremely immature.

Jumin: I want to take photos of Elizabeth the 3rd walking

Jumin:  but the camera keeps shaking

MC: don’t you have friends?

Jumin: why would you ask that question?

MC: well, it just seems like you’re an obsessive cat lady


707: BOI


MC: lol

Jumin didn’t know how to respond. He’s never had a lady speak to him like this. If you could call her a lady…

Jumin: someone like you wouldn’t understand

MC: what’s that suppose to mean?

Jumin: animals just don’t enjoy your company

707: lololololol never seen Jumin so fiesty


He didn’t know where that came from. His fingers moved on his own. You could say that he was getting pissed very easily, which didn’t happen often.

MC: he must get it from his cat


Jumin left the chat room


And this was a start of a rivalry…

Texting continued like this. Seven though it was funny, Zen though she was the love of his life, and Jaehee only responded when he wasn’t in the chat.

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Mi Amor (Reaper x Reader)

Originally posted by foxy-reaper

Summary: You and Gabriel were together before the collapse of Overwatch. But the day you were going to tell him you were pregnant, Overwatch collapsed and Gabriel was pronounced dead. Four years later, after the birth of your child, a black figure comes to see you in the middle of the night.

Pairing: Reaper x Fem!Reader
Words: 745
Warning(s): Angst, fluff
A/N: This has been staring me in the face for a while, so I’m gonna write it now.

You smiled at your son, Daniel, as he smiled at you from his bed, shutting his eyes as you turned off the light. You quietly shut the door and leaned your head against it, sighing as tears came to your eyes, realizing how much your son looked like your long lost love.

Gabriel Reyes. The name still sent your heart racing as you remembered all the good memories, all the time spent together, all the time you were entangled in each other’s arms through the night.

You had been out doing some talking with Angela about your new-found pregnancy when you got a distress signal from the Overwatch base. You immediately headed out, getting to the base only to find it demolished.

Gabriel had been inside along with your friend, Jack Morrison. Angela immediately headed in to help the others who were hurt while you stood there, hand on your stomach, stunned at losing your friend and your boyfriend- the father of your baby.

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stars, hide your fires

*me, coming out of the woodwork that is writer’s block* here have some ‘bellamy gets a make over and a happy ending’ fic

wc: 4 680
rated e | read on ao3

Clarke manages to last a grand total of three days before cracking.

“Alright that’s enough,” she says, slamming her book down with more force than necessary.

Bellamy just looks up, startled at her outburst, and blinks owlishly. “What’s enough?” he asks.

“You’ll see,” she mutters, grabbing his book and tossing it in the corner with hers. She ignores his soft cry of outrage and yanks him up, pulling him behind her.

It’s not a surprise that he’s changed in the past six years– they’ve all changed, whether it be appearance wise or personality, and Clarke had been ready for it. She’s changed too, using her time on earth to face some very harsh truths and learn how to finally be honest with herself.

But while she braced herself to come face to face with the people she once knew, it was Bellamy’s changed that stuck with her the most.

Personality wise he was mostly the same, still good at giving rousing speeches and wielding a rifle like it was just an extension of his arm, but he’s simmered down a bit, stopped being so impulsive and hot headed.

That’s not what was bothering her though.

No, it was the physical changes.

More specifically, his hair and the pathetic excuse for a beard he grew.

Clarke has grown enough over the past few years to admit that one of her favourite Bellamy Blake features was his mass of rumpled curls, the eternal bed hair that graced the top of his head, just another one of those things that painted him as the past rebel king.

(And okay, yeah, it was kinda hot, especially when paired with the rakish grin that comes out to play when he wants to get things done his way.)

“Seriously?” he huffs when she shoulders open the door to the bathroom inside the bunker.

“I’m surprised you can still see with all that hair in your eyes,” she grumbles, letting the door fall shut behind them. “You need a haircut.”

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**OK you guys seemed to like the carry-on with Matt walking in on Andreil in the changing room soooo…. here’s the next part**

Matt stared at Nicky.
Nicky stared back.
In the background, the rest of the Foxes were silent. It was maybe the first time every single one of them was utterly silent.
They had been for the last twenty minutes.
It was lunch break.
It was Friday.
Neil and Andrew weren’t in the group.
They weren’t in the foyer.
Matt blinked and Nicky whooped, finally blinking too. Mat groaned.
“Nicky no!”
“Too bad Boyd,” Nicky sang. “Get in there.”
But Matt shook his head.
“No way.” He looked at the back liner. “Two weeks ago I walked in on them making out
Last week I walked in on them blowing. No way am I walking in on them again!”
“You blinked,” Allison pointed out. “You lose. Rules are rules, Matt.” She gestured to the changing room door.
Matt whimpered. No one relented.
Shaking his head, he stood up and began dragging his heels to the door. The rest of the Foxes watched intently.
With a final pleading glance over his shoulder, Matt pushed the door open and walked in.
At first he had his eyes closed, but when he heard muffled voices he opened his eyes.
And he stared.
Andrew was sitting on one of the benches, Neil placed carefully between his legs with his head resting against Andrew’s knee. Both boys were still dressed, save for some of their gear. One of Andrew’s hands was combing through Neil’s hair while the other held one of his knives - knives Matt had only glimpsed when they were pulled on other Foxes. But now, Andrew was calmly holding one of them and Neil was saying something in German - are was that Russian? - about it as he rested between Andrew’s legs. The knife didn’t look threatening at all; it looked calm and relaxed just like the two short men.
That is until the pair noticed him and Andrew promptly changed the angle he was holding the knife by; instead of simply behind held it was now pointed at Matt.
Matt gulped.
“Sorry uh -” Matt floundered. “Starbucks?”
Andrew didn’t relax and Neil raised a brow but answered, “Pumpkin latte.”
Matt nodded and hurried to the stall. From inside he heard their muffled conversation resume.
When he came out they didn’t glance at him until he was at the door to the foyer.
“Matt,” Neil called and Matt turned. Four blue eyes rested on him, one pair matched with an amused and knowing smirk. “You’re a terrible liar.”
Matt cringed and Neil laughed.
When Matt walked into the foyer all the foxes looked at him.
“Well?” Nicky asked.
“I’m a shit liar and now have to run to fucking Starbucks,” Matt surmised.
“We’re they fucking?”
“No they were talking about knives,” Matt said flatly.
Dan cackled.
Matt sighed and began the trek out of the stadium.