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hiro-gari · 3 years

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Batarou Headcanon - Special Valentine's Day

by: Little1993lamb for: Lilia / @hiro-gari

Word count: 1894 Warning: Lots of passionate kisses scene and makeout implication in the end between Garou and Badd, but nothing explicit.

Hewwo, I'm back again with more Batarou mini-headcanon! 🙋😆💕 Still Valentine's Day themed eventhough it's probably has ended already, but whatever we still got the spirit of it waah I'm so sorry for the lateness 😅😂

Okay let's start on the headcanon! 😋💝🍫

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After Garou moved into Badd's house and living together with the S-Class Hero, Garou and Badd become like chaotic bestfriends before they actually starts dating. They're already trusting and very comfortable with eachother, hence they didn't mind on doing some skinship as a way of showing affection.

Be it like flirting, old married couple bickering, holding hands, intimate hug, sleeping together, cuddling, snuggling, kisses but only as far as kiss on the cheek or light peck on the lips. Many people often mistaken them as a real dating couple because of that, not knowing Garou and Badd just messed with them by being affectionate to eachother for fun. They just love to tease those people with some more-than-friends PDA actings.

Sometimes Garou would asking Badd to act like boyfriends when he wanted to get special offering or even a discount for couple on cafe or restaurant or amusement park. Badd just rolled his eyes at Garou's stupid idea but agreeing to do that with him nonetheless. Besides, saving money by doing simple lovey dovey things with Garou? Why not?

Badd is gaining more benefits from it anyways, especially that he could becomes closer with Garou. Same with Garou, he likes it when Badd showing him his rare affectionate side ONLY for Garou...

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Then Valentine's Day has come. After going back from Hero Association's meeting, Badd was contemplating himself if he should buy an another gift for Garou aside for Zenko (which consisted of Amai Mask's rare autograph that he struggled himself to beg for that annoying idol hero, a big kitty plushie, and also a pack of premium caramel-filled chocolate truffle wrapped in cute designed box).

Because Badd wanted to appreciate his ongoing friendship with Garou, also limited budget as he already bought expensive gifts for Zenko, he decided to make a homemade chocolate cake for the wolfboy.

Fortunately Garou was still doing his part-time job at that afternoon, so Badd proceeded to bake the chocolate cake on home. He used his late mom's best recipe as his way to remember the memories they had spent together doing their cooking hobby. Also because Badd wanted to give Garou a special and meaningful present by making something he made by himself.

On the evening after celebrating mini Valentine's Day party with Zenko at home, Garou finally coming back home from work. Badd and Zenko welcomed him warmly then asking him to join dinner together with them.

Of course Garou more appreciating this kind of small family dinner but feels very homey than any luxury dinner at 5-star restaurant. He always dreamed about having family dinner with warm and cheerful setting, who truly cares for his well-being no matter what happen.

Now that he lives with Badd, Garou could enjoyed Badd's and Zenko's happy chatting with each other in front of him on every dinnertime and he also could eat many of his favorite food as much as much as he wanted. Or sometimes Badd even giving more food on his plate if he was being generous enough on that day.

Besides, he loves Badd's own cooking, too! Still tasted like 5-star gourmet meal but much better!

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Dinner time just ended and all the dish were cleaned already, Badd ordered Garou to take a shower before going to bed. And while Garou still in the shower, Badd prepared a surprise Valentine's Day for Garou. He took the cake from the fridge and placed it on top of small table in their shared bedroom while waiting for Garou to come out from the bathroom.

After Garou finished taking a bath and had changed with clean clothes, he found Badd sitting on the couch smiling proudly, then standing out and walking towards him while bringing a mini chocolate cake.

Badd said, "Happy Valentine's Day, Wolfboy! Here you go your special present, better appreciate it because I made it myself", before gently handing his homemade chocolate cake to Garou.

Days before Valentine's day, Garou often jokingly teasing Badd that he couldn't wait for Badd's handmade chocolate gift, which would earned Garou a flustered Badd everytime he said that. But of course Garou just kidding since he wasn't really sure if Badd likes him enough to actually gives him a present, because while they're already become bestfriends Garou couldn't help but secretly pining for Badd.

Garou was speechless, he just stared at the beautiful dessert gift from his bestfriend on his hands. It was a chocolate frosted cake with fresh raspberries decoration, also somehow Badd delicately added Garou's name and cute wolf paw signature written on top of the cake. A simple cake but feels very personal. And it's for him, too?? Nobody ever gives him personally handmade stuff to him before!

He still couldn't believe Badd went as far as spending whole afternoon just to prepare a Valentine gift for him. Garou was so moved by this.

So with a wide cheeky grin, he thanked Badd and start slicing the cake by a plastic knife. But he wasn't immediately eating it, instead Garou took Badd's hand, made him sitting on bedside together with him, then offered the hero to eat the cake together.

Badd was actually a bit surprised by Garou's offering since it was the gift for the wolfboy and not him, but since he asked nicely then why not. Plus he can tasted his own creation to know if it's good or not.

Except there was only a single fork available.

Badd was gonna get an extra fork from kitchen but Garou said it's alright, they can share one fork by taking turn on having a bite for the cake. Besides, he would be very glad to be handfed by Badd, anyways! Badd really wanted to smack Garou hard with a pillow but he resisted it, he desperately trying to not being flustered by Garou's words.

So here the two bestfriends, who secretly pining on each other, taking turn on eating the cake by a single fork only. Garou was enthusiastically ate the delicious cake whereas Badd just munching it while blushing. Only Badd was aware that they were basically doing an indirect kiss!

Perhaps not many people care enough about silly indirect kiss thing, yet Badd couldn't help but cares since it involved Garou. His dearly bestfriend who also his secret crush.

As they finished eating (mostly it was Garou's doing as he always takes a big chunk of the cake at once), Badd noticed that Garou has a buttercream smear on the corner of his lips. 'Garou is truly a messy eater', thought Badd as he shakes his head in amusement. Already used to do it with Zenko, he wiped the cream off from Garou's face with his finger then licking it in very casual manner like no big deal.

But Garou watched him, dumbstrucked with what Badd had just done to him a moment before. Then without thinking, he gets closer towards Badd, reaching his face and tilted it a bit before kissing him.

Garou kissed Badd's plushy lips, so softly but longing. Tasting the mixture of sweetness between chocolate and buttercream, with a fruity hint of fresh raspberry from remaining aftertaste in his mouth. Just like a dreamy first kiss experience of a teenager. He knows Badd probably wont forgive him to do all of this but Garou absolutely never regretting his choice.

On the other hand, Badd was in pure shocked state once Garou touched his lips with his own. The moment their lips collided in a slow passionate kiss, Badd was melted in Garou's arms. He should be shoving the wolfboy off from him or slap his face. And yet he instead pulling Garou much closer to him as he clung his arms around the white haired teen, deepened their sweet kiss in the process.

After they run out of oxygen, they both released the lip-locking activity to take a quick breath before resuming their kiss again. Now even more eager than the first attempt as they poured their whole heart content onto eachother, letting the other know what they have been feeling after all this time.

Slowly, Garou laid Badd down on the bed without breaking their kiss. Badd embraced him tighter, one hand clutching on Garou's back and the other hand on Garou's short spiky hair. They keep doing such intimate act for some hot minutes until finally Garou ended it and released Badd from the kiss.

He gazed at Badd's face, who currently breathing hard, eyes hooded with barely hidden passion, and face blushing so red like a tomato. But then Garou saw his tender smile on his plushy pink lips, Badd looked so pretty with those rare soft smile that only reserved for him only.

He could feel Badd's hand slowly caressing his cheek, stroked it with so much affection, as if he wanted to convey his true feeling even more clearly to Garou. It encouraged Garou to also confessed his feeling for the beautiful hero.

"Love you, Short-stack. So much that I don't know if I can hide it from you any longer.. Sorry for suddenly kissing you out of nowhere-"

A finger touched his lips, sealing it shut for a moment.

"Shussh it's okay no need to apologize. I already know. Me too, Wolfboy..", those tender smile still hasn't left Badd's lips, instead it got more brighter than ever.

Realizing his love has been reciprocated already, Garou let out a loud chuckle before dipped down to rub his nose on Badd's own excitedly before nuzzled his soft cheek, giving the smaller man a shower of little kisses on his cheeks, forehead, then his lips.

Badd was just as happy as Garou, he laughed along with him now that finally they leveled up their relationship into boyfriends after all of these silly mutual pinings for months. He accepted Garou's feeling right away, thinking he was so lucky they're become together in a very special day to any lovers: Valentine's Day.

So maybe upcoming dating anniversary for every Valentine's Day, perhaps?

Garou's gentle caress on his hair brings him back from his deep thoughts, he showed that trademark cocky smirk to Badd before asking, "Shall we do it again, hmm, babe?". He licked his own lips suggestively as a joke to tease Badd more further, making himself looked like a hungry wolf before devouring his delicious prey.

But who said Badd was an easy prey without fighting back? Of course he knows Garou was only joking, but the hotheaded hero wont let him gets whatever he wanted easily. If Garou wanted some dominance over him, he must earned it.

With a wide taunting grin, Badd accepted Garou's challenge, "Ooh you bet! Don't regret your decision, Moon Moon", before kissing him hard. He clung onto Garou and flipped him over on the bed so now Badd was on top of Garou, straddling his torso before proceed to continue their makeout session.

Garou couldn't hold a happy smile between their heated kisses, what a more better way to spending time on special event with your bestfriend-turned-into-newly-boyfriend than this? He let Badd enjoyed a brief dominance on him for awhile before he caught Badd off-guard, taking back the victory by flipping him over again, making the hero submitted to Garou.

Garou smirked when he saw Badd's tender yet teasing smile under him. This gonna be a long night.

---💝THE END💝---

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Notes:

So how was it? Was this good? 😳✨ Aaaa I'm sorry this ended up being a mix of silly, fluffy, and a bit pervy, lmao! But don't worry trust me they just went as far as doing usual horny makeout between teenagers and not going past there (yet), ahahaha 😜😂

Because they only just start dating, right? They wanted to take it slow and of course Garou would respected any of Badd's decision because he loves him so much, then in turn Badd would appreciate any of Garou's adorkable effort in dating attempts 😊💕

But maybe in the near future they eventually would take the things more further hmm.. 😎✨

Anyways, there I give you (belated) Batarou Valentine's Day present! Thank you so much for reading, I hope you enjoyed it~ 😚😘❤💜💙💚💛💖💝🍫🌹💐

Special thanks for: @hiro-gari , @the-goddessfighter , @kaincuro , @guby1620 , @garous-nipple , @jusqu-une-etudiante ,and @lovelybutnot-ablankcanvas , also all of Batarou shippers in the fandom! (idk if the tagging worked but I love to mention you all, guys! hope you don't mind ilysm 😆💕💖)

-Little1993lamb-

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~Lilia:

oh my god I’m-

This is so cute and fluffy and perfect hnnnnngh 😭💕 I love their little nicknames for each other too oml choked on my drink cause I haven’t thought about Moon Moon in years and it made me laugh so hard

Thank you for the Valentine’s fluff anon!! Who cares what day it is we need the L O V E💖✨

someone pls let me know if the tags work also!!

#i’m drunk on the fluff #thank you 💖#I’m so sorry if the tags haven’t been working 🙇‍♀️ 😓#technologically challenged #batarou #garou #metal bat #opm #submission #anon #headcanon

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thealphabetmurders · 4 years

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Laundry Day

Pairing: Prinxiety

Word Count: 3580

Summary: Virgil walks in on Roman with the door unlocked, causing him to realize some feelings he didn't know he had.From the sentence prompt: "I'm sorry, I thought this door was locked."

Triggers: anxiety, suggestive themes

Authors Note: This is my second Prinxiety fic in a month, what is happening to me?

Thank you to Koko on my Discord for the sentence prompt. This was really fun to write.

(Read on AO3)

Virgil didn’t mind his roommates, not at all. Sure, living in a city apartment with 3 other people sounded like a nightmare, and it was sometimes, but they worked together great. Logan was a surprisingly component chef, Patton was good at keeping the peace whenever tensions rose, and Roman encouraged them all to be active to match his own fitness lifestyle. Of course, they are also all close friends, but they had all had their own fair share of bad roommates, and after two years of the 4 of them living together, there was no reason to stop or for that to change. They were in a comfortable, domestic heaven.

***

The Home-osexuals Chat

P: Hey kiddos! Remember I wont be home for the next week because of the convention in Jersey, please do not slack on your chores, I will be upset if I come back to the house and nothing is done :(

L: This is Logan. I believe we still have the list you wrote out for us, we will do our best to abide by it.

R: You have nothing to fear Padre, we will complete everything you need us to!

Virgil looked at his phone, smirking, before placing back in his pocket, blasting the music from his large headphones as he gathered up his laundry as well as his roommates. He felt proud of himself for actually being ahead of schedule and doing his and his roommates laundry a day ahead of schedule.

Normally, laundry would be a task left up to the individual to complete, but 3 months into living with each other, Virgil quickly found out that his roommate absolutely despised doing laundry- a formidable task that Virgil had never had an issue with. So, his job was to wash, dry, and fold everyone’s clothes for that week. It was a bit awkward folding his very platonic roommates undergarments the first time, but after doing it for years, he barely bats an eye now.

With a huff, he reached down, and grabbed the three smaller plastic laundry bins and one large one on top of one another, the stacking made the baskets reach his chin. He struggled to the elevator but eventually made it up to the 14th floor and set the laundry down so he could begin folding.

Virgil began with the large basket- Princey’s laundry. It was the biggest and the most daunting out of the 3. With work out clothes and dancing attire and the fact that Roman spills on himself a lot, he goes through a lot of laundry. No matter. He begins his work at a steady pace, folding the shirts and shorts in the way that he knows Roman likes, separating the clothes in the basket by the occasion. Work out clothes and undergarments go on the bottom, everyday in the middle, and dancing/theater attire goes on top. Virgil let his mind wander about a couple projects he has to complete for work and a potential promotion that is in the works at his job. He bites his lip, shaking his head, wanting to distract himself from the pressures of work on his day off. He steadies himself and focuses on the polyester fabric between his fingertips and the sound of Hayley Williams’ voice.

Once he was finished, Virgil put the basket on his hip, feeling like quite the 19th century maid, and made his way up the stairs where Roman bedroom was. Patton and Roman essentially had control of the upstairs (it only being their two rooms and a bathroom) while Logan and Virgil claimed a hallway for their corner of the house. It didn’t take long to realise that Roman blasting show tunes while Logan was studying for his Masters was not going to work out.

Virgil sighed, knocking twice on the door decorated with golden stars and fairy lights draping on the outside. There was music Virgil couldn’t quite make out play from inside the room, so it is very likely he could have just not heard Virgil’s subtle knocks, “Ro, I have your laundry,” Virgil said, to no avail. He tried the door handle and it twisted successfully, so Virgil pushed himself into the room, “Roman, where do you want me-”

He cut himself off, unable to form any sentences after seeing Roman. It wasn’t Roman fault, Virgil caught him off guard. And it’s not like he was doing anything bad, and yet Virgil’s palm seemed to sweat and his throat dry once he saw Roman doing flexibility stretches. Roman was sat on the floor, holding his right ankle with both his hands behind his head, his other leg bent on the floor in front of him. Maybe it was because Roman was also completely shirtless or maybe it was the small and tight shorts that did not leave a lot to the imagination or maybe it was the way Roman’s olive skin gleamed with sweat under the lights, paired with his Adonis like body. Maybe it was all of that. Maybe it was none. But Virgil’s brain just went white as all he could do was stare.

“Ah, Virgil!” Roman let go of his ankle, and relaxed himself cross-legged on the floor, “I’m sorry, I thought this door was locked,” He stood up, towering over Virgil, stretching his arms a bit. Virgil nodded, dumbly, “Yea, uh, I knocked but the music-” Roman walked over to the speakers and turned off whatever cheesy pop song was playing, and now Virgil could clearly hear all the blood rushing in his ears. “The music is… Is no longer playing,”

“You okay there, Raggedy Angst?” Roman chuckled, clapping a hand onto his shoulder.

Virgil nodded, feeling the color in his cheeks rising and he is praying to God Roman is dumb enough to not notice the way he is avoiding his gaze, “Yea, uh, just a bit tired, didn’t get a lot of, um, anything to eat today?” He tried that, hoping he would believe him.

Thankfully, Roman did, sucking in a breath through his teeth, “Yikes, no sleep and no eating, that is really bad for you Virge,”

Roman grabbed the laundry basket from Virgil and it took all of his strength to not whine as his fingertips brushed against Virgil’s waist. Roman was talking, most likely about his sleep schedule or eating, but Virgil was not there.

Virgil was transported into his own personal 80’s style fantasy dream sequence, where Roman had him backed up against a wall. He had on that smirk that used to make him roll his eyes but now has him weak in the knees. Roman brushed the loose hairs out of Virgil’s face, which made him bite his lip and hold back a gasp.

Roman smiled, “You’re so sensitive,” And then he was manhandled onto the bed, Virgil imagining just how soft those silky red sheets would be against his back, as Roman straddled him and lightly kissed his neck before nibbling his ear, whispering into it, “You want me to show you how flexible I can be?” And Virgil wanted that. He really, really needed that. But he was shaken out of his daydream by Roman, the real Roman, shaking his shoulder.

“Geez, you really are out of it,” Roman crossed his arms, concern all over his face.

“Huh?” It took him a moment to process what Roman said, “Yea, I- uh, might have a nap,” He swallowed thickly, his conscious eating away at him from what he just imagined, “Do you- uh…” Virgil trailed off, attempting to find the words, “Do you always workout li-like, y’know… Without clothes,”

“Not typically, no,” Roman shrugged casually, seeming unbothered by the question, “It is just you were doing my laundry when I normally do my stretching, and I didn’t have any clothes to wear. You are a day early,”

Virgil nodded, biting his lip, rubbing under his nose, “Right well, uh, I am gonna have that nap now. Uh,” Virgil did a two finger salute, causing Roman to raise an eyebrow at the awkwardness, “Sorry, I am tired,” His eyes flickered to the left and right before exiting the room.

Virgil closed the door behind him, leaning against it for a moment, before groaning, “Well, fuck,”

***

Virgil may have gotten sleep but it certainly was not peaceful. The unwanted thoughts kept plaguing his mind, not even his favorite conspiracies YouTube channel could get his mind off of the golden-toned man.

“So, you’re having anxiety ‘cause… You find Roman attractive?” Remy took a long sip from his coffee before rolling closer to Virgil’s chair, “I dunno babe, this one is on you,”

Virgil spun around, angry, “How is this on me?”

“You should have seen that Roman is hot as fuck earlier,” Remy shrugged, “I look at him and am like ‘congratulations dude, you’re literally a 10’. I am honestly surprised none of you gays had a sexy dream about him sooner,”

Virgil cheeks warmed as he gripped the front of his fringe, “I did not have a…” He looked around, making sure there were no co-workers to overhear, “Have a sexy dream about Roman!” Remy raises an eyebrow and Virgil bit his lip, “Not in… So much detail,”

Remy cackles and pulled out his phone, shaking his head, “Ah man, that’s hilarious,”

“Look, it’s not like I have never thought Roman was attractive before, of course he is, but like, I don’t understand why I am having this… Reaction,”

Virgil and Remy were silent for a while, the the latter spoke up, “Maybe it’s all been like, building up and it just took one thing to make you realise, and that was Roman lewdly stretching out on the floor,”

He nodded, “I guess I do find my self seeking Roman’s company more so than anyone else, and we are like, always talking and texting,”

“So it was just a matter of your dumb brain making you realise you have feelings for him, so you’re not just in denial for the rest of your life,”

Virgil raised an eyebrow, “Well, that’s rich coming from you,”

Remy’s expression flickered from smug to sheepish, but blink and you would have missed it, “I don’t know what you are referring to,” He scratched the side of his face and took a long sip of his coffee while Virgil scooted in closer, placing his hands on his knees.

“Oh really? So, you are just never going to address the absolutely giant crush you have on Logan? How you keep having problems with your coursework that only he can help with? How every time you’re around him you always bring your Louis Vuitton galaxy bag in hopes that he’ll ramble about space?” Remy kept sipping his coffee, avoiding eye contact very casually, “We’re not going to talk about that?”

Remy stopping drinking, smacking his lips together and sighing, “Nope,” Virgil rolled his eyes, crossing his arms, “Do you even want to date Roman, or do you just want to f-”

“That’s a good question,” Virgil cut him off, as one of their coworkers walked by to get coffee from the breakroom, “I’ve been thinking about that, and I am not 100% sure. I know I am attracted to him in some weird, ambiguous way, but I haven’t even seen him since the- since the ‘incident’ so I guess I just have to find out,”

Remy nodded, “Well, good news is, you can find out right now,” He gestured his now empty cup towards reception where the devil himself was standing, dressed in his favorite form fitting red sweater tucked into black jeans. “Mm, he looks so good in casual wear,”

“Remy!”

“What?” Remy smirked, “Getting jealous? I may not want to date him but I am also not blind,” Roman walked over to the two men, waving with one hand, holding a drink carrier in the other one, flashing a classic 1000 watt smile.

“God, I bet he doesn’t even know how beautiful he is,” Virgil muttered to Remy, who just nodded.

“Hey, gorgeous, this certainly is a surprise,” Remy smiled, standing up. Roman set the drinks down before pulling him into a hug. He looked over to the drink carrier, pulling out the frappuccino he assumed was his, and collapsed back into his chair.

“What are you doing here today, Ro? You didn’t tell me you were coming?” Virgil frowned.

Roman leaned against Virgil’s desk, ruffling his hair a bit that was damp with moisture. His curly brown locks looked like that of a supermodel, or a 1920’s Hollywood actor. He sighed, putting on a soft smile, “Well, I got done with my lessons early and was in the area, thought I would surprise the two boys that are hard at work,” He looked around the office at everyone either on their phone or browsing Facebook on their computer, “Busy day, I take it?”

Virgil groaned, “We all just finished our projects for the month, so there is nothing new to work on, so we are just at work for the sake of being at work,”

Remy rolled his eyes, “I hate it here,”

“Capitalism really does suck sometimes. The 40 hour work day isn’t even productive. Studies find that people in typical office jobs can accomplish all their work in 3 hours, and to force someone to be at their job for more than double than length actually can cause a sharp decrease in productivity, or, what was that called, Virgil?”

Virgil was taken aback, “It’s called presenteeism. Wait, you were actually listening while I was rambling about that?”

Roman shrugged, like it was the most obvious thing the world, “Of course I did, why wouldn’t I want to listen to you, Virgil?” He softly smiled at Virgil, placing a hand tenderly on his bicep.

Remy smirked into his frappuccino, trying not to say anything while Virgil attempted to not scream.

Internally, he let out the biggest groan, “Well, fuck,”

***

Was Virgil avoiding Roman? Yes. Was he doing it in a way that was super obvious? Of course. Did Logan scold him for a little bit for taking over the kitchen table with unfolded laundry? Undoubtedly. When Virgil finally calmed down a bit from his gay panic (and regular panic), he tackled the pile of laundry he had been avoiding. Many of the clothes were now wrinkled from sitting out so long, so he had to get out the ironing board and tend to those as needed.

He hummed to the lo-fi beats coming from his headphones, ironing one of Logan’s shirts, beginning to relax, when his headphones were ripped right off his head, just as he was beginning to get lost in thought and maladaptive daydream.

“What the hell?” Virgil looked up and saw Roman holding the headphones on the tip of his finger, an eyebrow raised. He was wearing a show shirt that he cut the sleeves off of as well as most of the torso to make into a 00’s style crop top. “Oh, h-hey Roman,”

Virgil was distracted. Distracted that the object of his fantasies was standing right in front of him, looking a bit annoyed and confused, as well as the fact that he was wearing that particular crop top and Roman always looked so good in white… He was distracted, so he ran over his own finger with the iron.

“Ow, fuck!” He exclaimed, gripping his right finger, tears pricking in the corners of his eyes.

“Oh my Lord!” Roman rushed over to the kitchen and began frantically opening cupboard doors, “Where is the first aid kit, where is it,” He muttered to him,

Virgil breathed out heavily, “Roman, don't worry about helping, I- I got it,” He rushed away, making a beeline for his and Logan’s bathroom. He turned on the cold water and thrust his entire hand underneath the rushing water, the cold mixed with the warm from the burn made for an uncomfortable sensation.

“Okay, what is going on with you?” Roman opened the bathroom door (shit, Virgil forgot to lock it) holding the first aid kit, “You have been avoiding me and been weird ever since I came to see you at work. Was it the fact that I surprised you at work, or something?”

Virgil was not sure if Roman could see the bright blush on his cheeks but he would be a fool not to notice the stutter in his voice, as he pulled his hand away from the sink, “O-oh I really didn’t min-”

“Ooh, that looked really bad,” He commented, interrupting Virgil. He manhandled him closer towards himself and held a tight grip on his wrist and he uncapped the burn cream and liberally spread it across his finger, “I have been burned multiple times before, don’t worry, I will take good care of you,”

Virgil is on fire. He is on fire and he is dead. Roman’s eyes twinkled a bit as he hummed lowly an adage that he did not recognize, but it had the melody of Disney. His lips were parted slightly, thankfully not noticing the long minutes Virgil was staring at them. When Roman dragged a tongue across the bottom one and bit it as he was wrapping the bandages, it took all of his willpower to not say something, instead opting to cover his entire face with the hand not being treated.

“There you are, all finished!” Roman patted down the wrap and kissed the bandages, just to add insult to injury.

Virgil nodded vigorously, “Okay, thanks Roman, bye,” He attempted to move around Roman, but Roman’s wide frame compared to Virgil’s small one made it a losing battle.

“Easy, you’re still being weird, what is going on with you?” Roman gripped Virgil shoulders, and he was avoiding eye contact with the beautiful man in front of him.

Virgil should just say something, tell Roman, rip the band-aid off, and they can get on with their lives after a couple weeks of awkwardness. These past couple days have been absolute torture, he doesn’t know if he can keep it up.

But, his anxiety has something else to say.

“Just, forget about it Roman, I’ll tell you some other day,” Virgil mumbled, if the bathroom hadn’t been so quiet, neither of them would have been able to hear it.

The other man sighed, dejected, and Virgil felt a pang of guilt, “Okay, fine, you are under no obligation to tell me, just know I miss talking to you,” Roman lifted his hand to brush the hair out of Virgil face, and of course, his body had to betray him with a involuntary whine, “and I-” Roman cut himself off, raising an eyebrow at the noise. Virgil wanted nothing more than for the floor to open up and swallow him whole. He is sure he is going to be the first person to actually die from embarrassment.

“Virgil?”

He swallowed thickly, eyes squeezed shut, “Yea?”

A beat. “You like me, don’t you?”

Normally, Virgil would respond with some snark or a belittling comment towards Roman, but his nerves were turned up to 10 and he couldn’t even think straight (more so than usual), so in the vast sea of sassy remarks, there was not one to be found.

“Yes,” He responded, honestly.

There were a couple moments of deafening silence in the bathroom where Virgil thought Roman was going to sigh, disappointed in him or hit him or kill him. All irrational, but all seemed very likely in his anxious state.

“Virgil?” Roman asked again, his voice softer.

“Yea?”

Roman placed a hand on his shoulder, “Can you look at me?”

Virgil sighed, slowly placing his hands down to his side, looking up into Roman’s wide brown eyes. He had on a soft smile. Before Virgil could even register what was happening, he was being lifted up by his thighs, his legs instinctively going around Romans waist and arms around his neck. Roman then pushed Virgil back against the wall, holding him there for a passionate kiss.

At first, he didn’t kiss back, so shocked by Roman’s bold actions that his brain was lagging like a 2006 Chrome browser. Roman began to pull away, but once Virgil’s brain caught up with his body, he pulled himself closer to his partner and kissed back with a passion and fervor that he is sure Roman did not expect.

If this were a movie, the lightbulbs in the bathroom would have burst and the music would have swelled, but instead, all Virgil could sense was the softness of Roman’s lips and the heavy weight lifted off of his shoulders. The feeling of ecstasy made his legs tingle, almost causing him to lose his grip on Roman and collapse onto the tile.

Virgil one the one to break the kiss, resting his forehead against Roman’s chuckling slightly, “So, I am guessing you like me back?”

“Have for a while now, Virge,”

The two of them chuckled, peppering soft kisses onto each other’s faces that would normally make Virgil gag, but now it made his heart swell.

They heard the front door open and slam shut and a sigh came from the kitchen, “Really kiddo?” They heard Patton yell, “You couldn’t get the laundry done before I came home?”

Virgil sighed, frustrated, leaning his forehead on Roman’s shoulder.

Roman chuckled, amused that Virgil was about to get chewed out, “Someone is in trouble,”

He groaned, tightening the grip on Roman’s waist, “Well, fuck,”

A/N: By the way, here is the link to the stretch that Roman was doing. I did my best to describe it, but if you need a visual, here.

#prinxiety #sanders sides #thomas sanders #roman sanders #virgil sanders #fanfiction #my writing #and that is all the tags

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willpowerbutch · 7 years

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Gay Oil: Chapter 2

Autumn had crept west, painting the wooded foothills and gullies rust-red and parting the clouds to let the morning stars peer through. Eli stretched out, folding his arms behind his head, a pleasurable sensation washing over him as his eyelids cracked open. It was easy to forget, in the communist utopia of New Trotskyville, what it felt like only to lie down, the wind in his lightly curled hair, reposing far from the exertion of musclebound street cleaners chewing on his legs like popsicle sticks. Living in the silver miners’ soviet made him remember another life in a time of innocence, the brutal innocence of capitalism, when Eli had been wont to take dainty hikes through the surrounding forests alone, gaping in wonder at the sturdy oak branches with which he explored his appetite for man logs.

Rising on his elbows, Eli dabbed his lips on a discarded sex bracelet and looked around, over the mounds of heaving flesh. Strewn about him were the implements of the previous night of communion: salt water balloons; dozens of empty tubs of vanilla yogurt; and innumerable dirtied, variously-sized rubber ladles. Eli groaned, shifting his weight. That’s the last time I play 20 Questions through a drilled wall, he thought, dusting pot sugar off his leather-strap boobs as he rose to his feet. He had been roused by the clamor of someone knocking incessantly against his church’s door, and as he drew close to the source of the sound, Eli reckoned he could smell the award-show sweat and mustache wax which announced the presence of one Daniel Plainsex.

Eli swung open the door and was assaulted by Daniel’s intense impressiveness and laudability. “Daddy,” Eli whimpered, “you’ve arrived just in time for our come-down cuddle. Would you like to take the spot beside me?”

“You prison erotica plebian,” spat the gaywad. “You know well what I have come for. I will have your bath oils now, Eli: be a good lad and accept my offer.”

“You’re persistent, Daddy Daniel,” purred Eli, stroking his bedazzled crotch guard absently, “But a framed photograph of Dolly Parton and a box of cracker jacks couldn’t even afford you an hour of nipple worship from me. Why can’t you be satisfied without my bath oils?”

“Pillage, Eli,” Daniel retorted. “The straights have their families, but we homos have only our beauty products to entertain us after a long day of manual labor for the state… This is my final offer,” he declared. “I will compensate you for the oils as promised, and if they make me smell like a cotillion queen, I’ll pay you an additional radish soup voucher and my poster of Whitney Houston that Warren Beatty ruined while I was earning my first Oscar.”

Eli cackled, sliding his ass up the hard edge of the wooden door frame. “You still don’t realize how basic you are, listening to that Disney Channel reject. Whitney Houston is a personified beer nap, Daddy, and Beyoncé is a Bacardi 151.”

“Do not speak to me of Dance Oprah!” Daniel ejaculated. “Beyoncé is the spawn of an Aretha Franklin imposter and sexual nihilism, and if you will not allow me to bathe in your fluids, then I will drown you in mine!”

From the looming trees emerged a battalion of saucy painters adorned only in glittery boy pants, feather boas, and builder hats. Descending upon the church, they brandished their brushes high, dripping white paint. At the sight of that, Eli whined orgasmically. “I will not allow you to asperse the holiness of this Cock Barn any further!” He tightened his grip around his loins, but just as the first bristle touched Eli’s wood, a groaning, explosive sound reverberated through the canyon, and a conflagration rose high in the distance, hot and stark like the men who paid Eli to be a woman.

“Fuck!” exclaimed Daddy Daniel. “Homosexuals are susceptible to fire!” Sprinting back the way he’d come, Daniel vanished into the now-illuminated forest, and Eli felt impelled to follow him -- down, into the gully, then finally ascending into a flatland buffered by foothills, in the center of which was a burning oil rig.

“NO!” Daniel screamed, taking in the vision the way Eli took in common law-married rancheros. “I’ve abandoned my child! I’ve abandoned my boy!” He broke down into a fit of incredible excellence, gasping as hot tears slid down his sexually-aggressive cheek bones. Eli was almost induced to pity him, but before he could offer his body as comfort, a slim, swimsuit-clad woman cat-walked toward them out of the rubble.

“Brother!” she called out. It was the waifish elf, Danny, emerging from the wreckage with a contorted homosexual in his arms. “I have Alex. I will not elaborate on why his lips are wet.”

As Daniel scooped Alex into his arms, Eli observed the daddy reveal fondness for something other than assault for the first time in his memory. But Daddy Daniel’s relief turned to mourning when Alex stirred awake, groaning, “Pappi? Who brought the big carrots? Because my spicy dip is hot and ready to serve.”

“He’s…” Daniel started but soon corrected himself. “This bitch is… a bottom. No son of mine could…” he choked. Glistening tears of fabulous acting returned to his eyes, and he won another Oscar hysterically. At this, Eli placed a long-fingered, sensual hand on his ass.

“Think of it as a blessing, Daddy,” he whispered. “Left in the fire any longer, and it might have become a transgender.”

Daniel, with the pathetic form of his former son in his arms, turned around and began to walk toward the faith healer’s tent, with Eli on his trail. When this brigade of sissies had left to dress Alex’s wounds, Danny stood apart, watching the oil rig continue to burn against the night sky like Paul Lynde. Sensing that he was being watched, the gay turned around to find that he had been approached by the Expository Candy Man, who offered him an enormous lollipop directly. “Are you lost, boy?” asked the Candy Man. Accepting the treat gingerly, Danny nodded his head.

“Lost in thought.”

“But what could a gay youth be thinking about other than anal lube and abolishing racism?”

Danny touched his lips ponderously. “I don’t know,” he admitted at last. “I’ve never thought of anything else before. What should I do?”

“Come with me,” said the Candy Man, slinging a morally bankrupt arm about the broad shoulders of the snack. “I will distract you by introducing you to my friends on Craig’s List.”

Sighing, Danny went along with the stranger. As they drew away from the flame, Danny looked at the lollipop in his hand and noticed a small object embedded within. “Mister?” he queried. “What is this small, pill-shaped item in my lolli?”

“It’s my gonorrhea medication,” the Candy Man replied. “You’re going to need it after we’re finished.”

*****Six Months Later*****

The overhead speakers crackled, and a gay voice pierced the atmosphere of phallic bedlam. “And now, opening for The Backstreet Goys, let’s make some love for Eli Sundae!” The club-goers gasped as the thighs of multiple builder bears shuddered in unison, and the frightful silhouette of a fey princess appeared behind the stained curtains. Stepping into the spotlight, Eli came into view, bedecked in Halloween glitter and organic soda water. He acknowledged Daddy Daniel, who was waiting for him erotically in the foyer, before addressing the rest of the Gay.

“If you were an ice cream flavor, what would you be, lovers? I’d be Big Banana with a splash of salted caramel inside. Let’s see who wants to get a lick of this Eli Sundae.” Weaving his way through the crowd, the gayographer halted before the table of the Candy Man, who was admiring Danny’s sexual vulnerability sadly from afar. Eli stood by, stroking him silently for several moments, pouting sexily. He flicked his eyes carefully over the Candy Man’s pelvis, lapping him up. “Do you want to taste me, lover?” he murmured. “I’d like you to -- if I wasn’t allergic to gin yetis.” Turning toward his companion parole officer, Eli Sundae startled, then purred, “I’d suck your straw on a street corner for a dime and a plastic watch, baby boy.”

Daddy Daniel had reached the end of his patience. In a fabulous display of noteworthy scene dominance, he opened his trousers, began throwing tequila-soaked licorice onto the dance floor, and stole Eli away in the ensuing chaos. Dragging him toward the dressing rooms, Eli struggled against the daddy to break free, but it was to no avail. Terror flooded his eyes as they drew near the door.

“No, we mustn’t go there,” Eli cautioned Daniel. “That’s where the spirit of Reddie Gayflame lives in eternal death scene makeup, devouring the unwanted bits of transgenders. Let’s sit at a table in the back instead, Daddy.”

Slamming Eli into a chair, Daniel emanated greatness from his magnetic genital posture. “Eli,” he growled, “this is the last courtesy you will get from he.” He held out both his hands. “If I do not have your bath oils in my possession in five seconds, I will kill you in a completely non-homoerotic mud wrestling match.”

Eli swallowed harder than he had with Benedict Cumberbatch, but he held his voice level. “Daddy -- Daniel,” the bottom replied calmly, “you haven’t looked hot in your cowboy stripper act since 1995.”

Eli stood to leave, but Daniel took his wrist forcefully. Ruminating on how slight and pansific Eli was in his grasp, the older man remarked, satisfied, “I’m going to ruin you like lesbians have ruined denim, Eli. I’m going to savage you like the Transgender has savaged the world.”

“You could do a lot more to me than that, delicious,” Eli swooned.

Daniel gave him a tense, magical stare, but before he could proceed, the flaccid voice of a disco whore wafted to him, and his ears pricked. Rising to gain a better vantage, he caught sight of his brother-sister, Danny, in an intimate moment of under-the-tablecloth fondling with his disgraced son, Alex. “That woodland slut,” he spat, and before Eli could try to immobilize him with lust, he was away.

In their own private romance, the young fruits remained oblivious to Daniel’s approach. “I want to marry you,” Danny declared suddenly, meeting Alex’s gaze with tears. “I want to make applesauce at a lesbian orchard with you, and I want to start a charity to brew Norwegian coffee at homeless shelters. I want to have a radical poetry retreat in Okinawa next year, living off only the money we can raise selling palm-readings and using a GoFundMe page. I want to do it all with you, not just the ball-gag stuff.” The fairy was peering up at him hopefully, but Alex shook his head.

“I’m gay.”

“Oh, Alex,” Danny sniffled, “I’m not really your uncle. I only said that so Daniel would let me handle your under-clothing.” The lovers reconciled with a kiss, but the Daddy, who had heard the substance of their discourse, loomed over Danny’s surprisingly butch shoulder blade.

“You topped my mathematical sex son and you’re not even my BROTHER?” Daniel roared. He kicked their vodka-filled champagne flutes, sending them crashing against the nearby poster of Che Guevara. “Now that he has a hankering for sleeping on his stomach, he will never change back! You have destroyed him! For this, you will die!” Brandishing an obscenely-shaped novelty thermos, Daniel unscrewed the lid and poured the liquid contents down the homofairy’s throat.

“I’m gay!” screamed Alex as Danny began to convulse.

“Coffee!” Danny choked. “Black coffee! The only black my lips have ever touched was Macklemore. Alas!” he cried, shuddering to the floor. “Food is toxic to the Homosexual unless it’s hot meat or condiments!” Dragging himself toward Alex, Danny wept out his body’s constitution of Mio and whimpered, “I haven’t gagged like this since I was backstage at the BAFTAs.” A single, dramatically-lit tear trickling down his cheek, Alex shook Danny’s hand as the homo dissolved into a mournful ghost.

None who bore witness to the execution would soon forget it – not the braying of the cats that escaped from Danny’s rucksack, nor the blood orgy that materialized around his corpse, nor in the least the sexual way Danny had moaned for Sweet & Low to ease his suffering before succumbing to his grievous lack of reproductive fitness. When Alex and the Candy Man had been removed from the premises and the police had taken a report of the incident, the body had been placed in the care of Eli’s church to deliver Danny’s last rites. Standing above Danny’s coffin, the cross of the erection shining in sunlight behind him, Eli lifted his eyes to the bright window and held his hand to his cock. “You and Alex will be married, bitch,” he spoke. “This I promise you: if Daniel should stand in the way of your necrophilic gay wedding, I will penetrate him with my nail scissors like a Master, and not in a ticklish way.” Staring out over his congregation, Eli’s voice whined mightily. “Stand tall with me, brothers, sisters, sister-wives, merry men, men who do fellatio to get free lingerie from perverts at the mall, gay-ngsters, and trans-genitalists. Stand with me, and together, we shall upend the chastity of marriage!”

About the Author

Tom Rob Smith, award winning author of Gay Slut Death and screenwriter of the shelved pilot episode of Fairies Are Gay Sissies, presents this second instalment of Gay Oil as a tribute to the memory of Daniel Day-Lewis, whose violent death this year was almost as upsetting as the fact that Ben Whishaw is now shilling poltergeist videos for cash. Tom is patronized in this effort by the kind inspiration and credit card details of his platonic nightly visitor, Manly Men! Magazine’s own Paragon Shag. His editor, Willpower Butch, hopes that their partnership shall continue to bring valuable edutainment about the cultural corruption of the Gay to millennials for many years to come. Their secretary and friendly neighborhood evil transgender pervert, Dead Summer Days, hasn’t debauched a pure-hearted heiress all week.

#this is a disaster #willpower butch #there will be blood #london spy #tom rob smith #paragon shag #gay oil #fake fanfiction #i'm the worst #daniel day-lewis #daniel plainview #paul dano #eli sunday #ben whishaw #edward holcroft

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