#Maybe he can beat the shit out of Noise if he knows that's a bark with no bite

[jellazticious]

"the update debuffed Faker"

No it did not, Noise took his ass by surprise 😭

You can scare a lion with a loud ass car but it doesn't meant the lion stops being a predator cuz it got intimidated for a moment

[missmeinyourbones]

we NEED "i'm just too soft for all of it." IWHT MEGUMI PLS IM BEGGING

I'M JUST TOO SOFT FOR ALL OF IT (m. fushiguro)

a/n: me making up medical shit LMFAO, repressed and emotionally constipated megumi, deadbeat dad t*ji, slight mentions and undertones of toxic masculinity

L’s MIDNIGHTS EVENT!

Since he was four years old and still growing into his long-sleeved sweaters, Megumi has learned to heal his own wounds or almost die trying.

A routine that he now knows like the back of his hand, he'd returned from his latest mission with weeping cuts and exhaustion clear beneath his eyes, making a point to stop at the medical closet before returning to his dorm. With Shoko's workday over, he makes a mental note to visit her first thing in the morning when he wakes. 

He can make it through the night, he always does. Because Megumi is a thinker. He plans until he can't and covers all bases for when they're stolen. He gets by. 

What he didn't take into account was potentially running into you, of all people. Dormitory halls barren and almost eerie, he nearly curses himself for brushing shoulders as you turn the corner on the way back to your own room. 

Your timing has always been wrong, or maybe it's right and Megumi can't differentiate between the two. 

And now he's here, on the creaky wooden floor of the medicinal closet, with you kneeling beside him and prodding at his injuries with tender wrists. 

Never one to be good with idle hands, Megumi fidgets and tries to brush at the dried blood on his shoulder. The action has both of you hissing—him in a jolt of pain and you in reaction to his hurt. 

"Don't touch it," your voice falters to be stern, still coming out so gently. Megumi thinks about the irony of that—of how you can't even be sharp if you tried. You're too gentle, too soft to even sound hard momentarily. 

Humiliated at the mere idea of doing nothing, at needing help, he shakily exhales and returns his attention to the floor. 

When the damp cotton pad in your hand touches a bit too deep in one of his cuts, Megumi does his best to save face but can't help the grunt of breath that gets sucked into his lungs. 

Immediately, he feels you retract from his skin and coo your apologies. Carefully returning your attention to the burning wound, you do your best to soothe him. 

"Sorry, it's deeper than it looks. Almost over."

Megumi's response is quick and curt, like a cut of its own, "It's fine."

You nod hesitantly before grabbing the bottle of antiseptic and another clean cotton round. The cleaning of his wounds continues in silence, though your thoughts are louder than anything. 

His injuries vary in size. Some deeper, fresher, than others. Some looking like one-hit victims and others a repeated attack. You do your best to take note of where he's sensitive, where he's hurting the most. 

When you reach a certain scratch on his bicep, you're able to catch a glimpse of his face. Sweat beading on his forehead and damp hair sticking to his skin, Megumi bites the collar of his uniform to suppress any kind of noise (weakness) from you. 

When he slips up and lets out a guttural muffled groan, you think you might audibly whimper yourself. 

"You can yell if you want to," you try to help him in any way you can, "or squeeze my hand or—"

"I'm fine," Megumi attempts to bark again, but this time is different. It's not cold or sharp like it was last time. You can hear how it shakes against the echos of the closet, how it sounds like the burn of tears building in a sore throat.

And between the pain everywhere he still has feeling and the intimacy of you carefully caressing him, Megumi finds himself tearing up. 

"Hey," he feels you whisper, attempting to caress his jaw and prompt him to look at you, "hey, you okay?"

He can't find it in himself to answer nor lift his head, so he sniffles like a kicked child and crinkles his nose in disgust at his own pathetic actions.

Megumi is tough, one of the toughest people you know. You've seen him more beat up than this and barely break a sweat. Your head feels light at the realization that something's wrong. He shouldn't be in this much pain from the familiar burning of antiseptic he's felt a dozen times over. Maybe it's from a cursed weapon, or a technique where—

A stifled sob cuts you off.  

Like a glass cracking beneath pressure, you feel something inside you break. No longer caring about cleaning his cuts or avoiding sensitive areas, you can't stop yourself from wrapping around his hunched frame. 

Megumi's breath hitches as you hold him, feels your hair tickling his neck when you rub his back and whisper.

"I'm sorry, I know, but you're doing so good, okay? And I'm almost done—"

"Don't do that," he bites. 

Assuming he's referring to prodding at a specific wound, you flinch and loosen your grip, "Do what?"

"Talk to me like that," he snarls with a crack, "in that—voice."

He feels your head remove its weight from his shoulder slowly, "Why?"

"Because I can't—" Megumi's voice almost breaks before he whines, gritting his teeth when he whimpers, "I can't handle it."

And just like that, Megumi is four years old again. He's scraping his knee on the concrete of his front lawn, and a blurry father-shaped figure with dark hair and legs far too tall tells him to be a man. Not being old enough to use the stove without supervision, but still knowing enough to save his cries for his pillow when Tsumiki is snoring and can't overthink his tears. He thinks of Gojo—of the first time he broke down in front of him and was met with whispers of good intent and love that registered in his brain as pity. Humiliation.

He doesn't realize he's crying until he feels your fingertips on his wet cheeks, replacing the stinging of antiseptic with a fluttering and velvety touch. 

Between sniffled strings of apologies and a few hiccups of words that don't quite make sense, you piece together that Megumi isn't crying because he's in pain. He's crying because he can, because you're helping him in a way he never asked for, let alone known. 

"I've never...been allowed to, like, feel—"

"Hey," you're soft again, as if you ever weren't. "I know," fingers delicately brush his sticky eyelashes when you remind him, "but you are now."

"Are what?"

"Allowed," you whisper against his cheek, "to feel however you want when you're around me."

And Megumi doesn't know how you do it. How you remain a light in a world that's constantly doing all it can to kick you while you're down. Maybe you're just naive, so stupidly optimistic that it'll eventually be your own demise. Maybe.

But, Megumi can't find himself to care, because he knows that for as long as he's on this earth, he'll be damned if he lets anything happen to that light of yours. 

Back to reality and rubbing at his stinging eyes, Megumi softly scoffs. "Y'know, sometimes you look at me with those stupid eyes and I don't know what happens, but I almost feel sick."

Your laughter tastes like water, "I know what you mean. But in a good way though, right?"

"Yeah," he nods, "in a good way."

When Megumi's back finally hits his mattress at an ungodly hour of the morning—something he's been dreaming of since he'd left it hours ago—he's sickeningly sore and his eyes burn with hypersensitivity. He lets himself close his eyes thinking of your hands, the ones that soaked his now scabbing wounds and wiped his watery eyes. 

Megumi plans, sure, but he never could have prepared for you. 

[concussed-to-pieces]

Arbiter's Solstice; Part Three

Fandom: Resident Evil: Village

Pairing: Eventual Karl Heisenberg/AFAB!Reader

Rating: Holy shit M.

Summary: Karl was either going to spontaneously combust out of boredom, or spontaneously combust out of having to watch you working in the fields. Oh sure, he didn't have to watch you work. But he did. Sometimes. Most of the time.

A/N: Thank you all so much for reading and enjoying what I do! Hopefully I'll see you soon, but if not, stay safe. 💚 Enjoy!

Tag List: @stargazerofgoldenwords @cookiethewriter @crookedmoonsaultpunk @colesterstrudel @spoopyredacted @velvet-paradox @kotall-ohh @calwitch @katreneebug @missjasmine98 @sunflowers-and-swear-words @savage-rhi @nova-ivy541 @xyaswrlldd @the-videodame @luvley-shadow @akashiiiiii @spook0 @leediavhs @wysterias-not-so-secret-diary @alldevilsmaycry @writtennotsaid @mulcivert @cedarsmokesrandoms @smallestsnarkestgirl @buttons-beads-lace @vodkafolie @theplagueworm @holydreamerpastadragon @story-chaotic-brain @ohlookapan @topgirl17 @fyufox @immajojoreference @that-thangiling @n-o-r-4 @hauntedadagium @redjahxfox 

[If you were tagged in error, please let me know and I’ll remove you!] 

Part One: Chosen

Part Two: Struggles

[!TRIGGER WARNING!: This installment contains gore, mentions of death, canon-typical violence, depictions of mental and physical duress and unprotected sexual activities between two consenting adults. Stay safe!]

Karl stared aimlessly up at the smoke wafting overhead from the stubbed-out cigar in his ashtray, his fingers tapping the surface of his work bench. The bench was littered with scrap, bits and pieces he'd been attempting to make sense of all morning. 

When Donna had sent a request for all able-bodied villagers to assist with the salvaging of the fields and the planting of the autumn harvest, he had assumed you would wish to be exempted from such a tedious task. Instead, you leaped at the opportunity eagerly. Had he kept you cooped up for too long and you just needed to stretch your legs? Or was there something more sinister at work? Had Donna gotten to you with her damn spores?

Heisenberg groaned, rubbing his hand across his face.

The phone above the workbench began ringing, a dull clicking noise that Karl barely registered at first. He drew a circle with his finger, mentally trying to fit several pieces on the table in front of him together. If that goes to here, maybe I can–

Wait, the phone?  

The man bolted upright, seizing the receiver and nearly yanking the whole unit off the wall in the process. Through the buzzing hum of poorly-insulated lines came the sound of howling, snarling, and-

“Karl?”

“What the hell is happening, Donna?!” Heisenberg barked, already halfway into his coat. He could almost feel her mustering up the strength to say something through her obviously-crippling anxiety, but he stifled his pity for the woman. Something was clearly wrong. “Donna, what the fuck do you need?” He asked finally, trying to prod her to respond.

There was a choked gasp for air and then she exhaled, “the lycans won't listen.”

The lycans. Fuck. He hadn't spared a thought for them since well before he’d torn Alcina's throat out. They'd been on the same level as humans, annoying, useless. 

Heisenberg slammed the phone down into the cradle, certain he'd broken the rotary dial with the motion. It didn't matter.

He grabbed his hat, shoving it onto his head as he headed for the first of many doors to reach the outside. He'd have to muster up some kind of weapon as he went, unwilling to trust the durability of his old hammer. Worst came to worst, he could make something out of the salvaged tractor. He would be fine, it was the birds that unnerved him when he went outside but he would be fine– 

Why the hell was his heart beating so fast?!

…

You swung the heavy bucket, clobbering the creature in front of you grimly. The momentum carried you in a circle, almost toppling you, but you managed to catch yourself before you fell. 

The lycans had fallen upon the fields without warning, much fewer in number than they had been before the Lady's demise but no less ferocious for their lack of numbers. The villagers, armed with nothing but spades and rakes for turning the earth, quickly rallied and fought back. You had been returning from the well with a fresh bucket of water for the workers to drink, so you didn't even have the benefit of a long-handled tool to defend yourself!

Lycans didn't terrify you like the Soldat had. If anything, you were used to seeing creatures like lycans or Dimitrescu's Moroaică. You weren't thrilled about seeing them, but they didn't necessarily unnerve you, especially since you weren't dealing with them alone. Outside, under the cheery sunlight of midday, they weren't quite so imposing.

You brought the bottom of the water bucket down on the head of another lycan, water flying everywhere as the beast snapped and yelped in response. One of the other villagers swung his rake into the beast's ribs, scoring several deep wounds in the lycan's side. 

Where is Donna? you wondered frantically, glancing around for the unwilling leader of the village. The black-veiled woman seemed to have vanished into thin air, however. You and the rest of the laborers were evidently on your own. You set your jaw, working with the other villager to batter the downed lycan with your implements until it stopped moving. 

The brutality of the action was shocking, yet you felt nearly nothing about it. Pragmatism, maybe a new gift from your service under Karl? The Lady had always weaponized fear and anticipation in equal measure, where Lord Heisenberg was quick to make a choice and carry it out. If something was threatening you, be it Soldat or despot, end it. 

Simple.

You straightened up, wiping the sweat from your brow and squinting through the gritty dust. The fields would be ruined (well, more ruined) if this fight went on for much longer. Someone would need to be decisive to put a stop to the lycans marauding behavior.

That someone turned out to be one Lord Karl Heisenberg, the Iron Horse seeming to materialize out of the dust of the field like an apparition. The large man snapped his fingers, ancient shrapnel rising from the disturbed dirt to do his bidding. Without a word, without so much as a sound, he merely gestured with his hand and every lycan dropped. 

You were certain you weren't the only one standing there stunned by the speed of the whole endeavor, but you may have been the only one to notice how hard Karl's chest was heaving. That, combined with the way his eyes darted across the fields until they met yours and his shoulders visibly relaxed–

Gods, his eyes. You were suddenly breathless for an entirely different reason, feeling your body flush with heat as his gaze burned straight through you. To think, you had jumped at the chance to perform some labor away from Heisenberg's factory, just to give yourself the opportunity to have a little space, only to be rendered useless once more the moment his glance landed on you. So much for your noble attempt!

What was less surprising than his reaction was, unfortunately, the way he stormed across the dusty ground, the large man clearly making a beeline for you. You braced for his approach, mentally trying to remind yourself that he still had yet to be cruel to you. Sure, he could be more than a little terrifying, but that came with his demeanor! That came with just being who he was, it wasn't as though he was making a deliberate effort to be so…scary.

The man kicked a dead lycan aside, the limp body leaving a fresh furrow in the ground from the force of Karl's blow. A jagged piece of metal jutted proudly upwards from the base of the creature's neck, black ichor staining the dark hair darker still.

You swallowed hard.

“You,” Karl hissed, but…but he wasn't even looking in your direction? You cautiously glanced around, quickly spying Donna standing next to the field with Angie. “Don't you know anythin’?! You need to turn the soil first, get all the big rocks and metal out of the way before you try to plant! Imagine if one of-” There was a sickening squelching noise as a deadly sharp bit of metal pulled itself free of another lycan's head, the object rising to hover beside Karl's shoulder. “-your villagers ended up losing a hand from something like this?!” The metal shard darted through the air at Donna's head and you flinched, exhaling hard when it dropped harmlessly to the ground at her feet. “You need to think like a goddamn leader!” Heisenberg roared. “You're not some helpless stupid child, Beneviento, so act like it!”

“This reaction seems a bit overblown, Heisenberg.” That may have been the longest sentence you'd ever heard out of Lady Beneviento. Karl halted, obviously surprised as well. Donna's hands were clasped in front of her around Angie, her already-pale knuckles further whitened by the force of her grip, but her voice was steady when next she spoke. “Everyone, please take a short rest. We will return to work in half an hour.”

“Not you,” Karl growled when you attempted to slink off with the rest of the villagers. “You're staying where I can see you.” He then raised his voice to address Lady Beneviento once the villagers departed, “Why the hell did you call me? It's your damn village to manage.” The man griped, shoving his hands into his pockets as you sheepishly moved to stand beside him. 

Donna wavered, clutching at a nearby trellis for support. You stepped forward, instinctively looking around for something for her to sit down on, but Karl moved past you and took her arm. 

“Have you had anything to eat today? Drink?” He enquired gruffly, clicking his tongue when she shook her head. “Infuriating. It's hot and you're out here wrapped in black fabric. Did your gift eat your brain?”

“I am not so blessed as you.” Donna retorted dryly, gripping his arm. “It is difficult.”

“I'll go draw more water! Uh, can you…?” You held out the metal pail to Heisenberg, who flicked a hand at it and removed the fresh dents. “Thank you!”

…

“Your pet is so dutiful.” Donna remarked after Karl had settled her onto the tailgate of a nearby wagon. “They must be a great help.”

The lord gritted his teeth. “Don't call them that.” He couldn't read her expression beneath the veil, but he could certainly guess. “I'm not fucking Miranda, I don't keep these things around as pets.” 

“‘These things’,” Lady Beneviento chuckled, the noise as dry as parchment. “You still want to sound like her. Very well. Not a pet. What, then?”

He gave the frail woman an incredulous look. “None of your goddamn business, that's what. Since when do you care about my affairs? I feel like you've got much more important shit to consider.” 

“Indulge me.” 

“I'd sooner chop off my own dick,” was the man's uncouth retort. “You've got enough fires to put out, don't go sticking your nose where it doesn't belong.”

��So vulgar.” The veiled woman leaned back, Angie kicking her heels rhythmically against the tailgate as she did. “I was only curious.”

“Don't act like we're friends just because I agreed to rebuild your crap, woman. I'm not here to facilitate your entertainment. And neither are they, for that matter.” 

“Understood.” Lady Beneviento sighed, actually sounding disappointed. 

Karl bit his tongue, both literally and figuratively as he kept himself from chiding her anew on her childish behavior. “Where did the lycans come from? Which direction?” He eventually asked.

Donna indicated towards what was left of Moreau's reservoir. “It has been so dry recently. Have they run out of food?”

The large man offered no response, instead kneeling to examine one of the quickly-dissolving bodies. The creature's ribs were plainly visible, pressing against the thin, ashen skin in unhealthy juts. 

“What will I have to offer you for your continued assistance as we plow and plant?” Donna called, interrupting his amateur investigation. Karl grumbled to himself, dusting his knees off when he rose.

“Scarecrows.” He watched her head tilt upwards beneath her thick veil, the woman obviously confused. “You heard me. Build scarecrows. You do that and I'll make sure the rest of the lycans don't get your precious villagers.” Heisenberg paused, a wolfish grin creasing his face. “At least, not while they work in the fields. Deal?”

“More than fair, especially from you!” Angie chirped before Donna could answer. “Maybe you're not so bad.”

“Keep your inane observations to yourself, you little creepshow.”

…

The heavy pail banged against your leg with every step. You weren't certain how much water the Lady Beneviento could drink, but if her appetite was anything like her deceased sister's, you may need another bucket! 

Flagging down one of the other women on your way by the resting band of villagers, you requested that she bring some bread and fruit to Lady Beneviento. No doubt the sugar would help to raise her spirits somewhat. To your surprise, however, the woman quickly shook her head.

“I'm not going anywhere near that…man.” She said, her voice just loud enough for the rest of the laborers to hear. “That's Lord Heisenberg.”

You squinted at her, a little baffled. But then, you recalled you had been much the same before everything that had transpired. Her apprehension was incredibly understandable. “Oh, of course! Just bring it to me then, I can bring it to them.” 

“Are you certain? What if he…does something to you?” The woman asked fearfully.

“Don't you recognize them?” another woman scoffed from her place at the fenceline, giving you a disdainful look. “They were his handmaiden, of course they're not scared of him. They're the reason we're in this mess, if they had just-!”

“The bread and some fruit, please.” To your credit, your voice didn't shake as badly as you feared. The first woman skittered off towards one of the houses and you set the bucket on the ground to wait for her return, intent on ignoring the daggers you could feel being glared at you. The snide remarks were a bit more difficult to tune out, though.

“No wonder the lord showed up so quickly-”

“What have they been doing in that factory? Can't be anything good.”

“We're only in such a bad state because they refused to follow the orders of their betters!”

“Imagine willingly working for something like that! And with Lady Dimitrescu hardly cold in the ground-”

A covered basket was pressed into your arms, the woman giving you a sorrowful look. “Take care, little one.” She murmured softly.

“Naturally!” You replied with an air of extreme cheer, determined not to let the rest of the gossips know how their words had affected you. Hefting the bucket once more, you listed slightly to the side before adjusting to the combined weight. “Thank you for your hospitality!” 

Perfectly willing to accept my help when I'm smacking a lycan with a bucket, but bringing some provisions to their leader is a bridge too far, you groused uncharitably to yourself as you made your way back to the other edge of the field. Ridiculous. If Karl had wanted to do something bad, I doubt Lady Beneviento would be able to stop him.

You hoped the rest of the villagers would be able to observe the lord and lady interacting. Maybe they would be able to comprehend that Heisenberg wasn't…

Well, wasn't as much of a threat as they wanted to believe. You sighed heavily, then straightened back up and pasted on a smile. “Some refreshments, Lady Beneviento!” You announced upon your arrival, waiting respectfully until the woman shifted Angie aside so you could place the basket on the tailgate of the wagon. Karl took the bucket himself without a word, filling the ladle and then passing it to Donna so she could drink. In the meantime you unwrapped the basket, surprised to see a jar of pickled vegetables as well as your requested rolls and a small bowl of raspberries. 

“What will you sample first, my lady?” The way you slid back into your more formal manners felt like putting on an itchy sweater. It fit, certainly, it was your place, but that didn't make it comfortable or desirable. You hadn't realized how much more casual you were with Lord Heisenberg until this moment. 

“You're eating.” Heisenberg growled, interrupting the woman midway through shaking her head. “You'll do none of those idiots any good if you're dead. You need to be alive if you expect me to keep showing up to deter the lycans. Now eat.”

“Perhaps just a few pieces of carrot?” You bargained, using the provided fork to spear a sliced carrot from the jar of vegetables. “And this bread looks fresh! Hours old, if that. You and Miss Angie are bound to enjoy it, especially with these raspberries.”

“Ah…I suppose. Perhaps you are right.” Lady Beneviento murmured, gamely accepting the fork from you. “The carrots are very bright this year.”

“They are!” you agreed, stunned but delighted. Was this an actual conversation? 

Karl refilled the ladle, his expression unreadable as he waited for Beneviento to finish chewing the carrot. “Drink. Small bites.” He instructed her, and you heard a snort from beneath the veil.

“Such a doting brother.” 

“Do it, you ungrateful little shit.” Heisenberg snarled. “You want me to protect your sheep? Take care of yourself because after the planting is done, I'm not coming back to your flock.” His eyes wandered to you momentarily before he seemed to snap back to attention, continuing, “you've put enough people in danger today. You need to be able to handle it yourself the next time it comes to your doorstep.”

“There is no need to scold me like an unruly child, Lord Heisenberg.” 

Karl tensed up and you quickly replaced the ladle in his hand with an herbed piece of bread, knowing all too well his weakness for the soft rolls. “Please eat, my lord.” You insisted, your cheeks tingling with the effort of maintaining your pleasant smile. “I can assist Lady Beneviento, I imagine you have more important things to tend to. To er, ensure the safety of the villagers?” 

The man tore a bite out of the roll, sharp teeth easily ripping the bread apart. “Oh absolutely. You know me, I'm a real…humanitarian.” He doffed his hat lazily at the two of you, then turned on his heel and headed for the small rise of land bordering the fields.

“It is curious how familiar you are with dear Karl.” Lady Beneviento commented once she seemed to believe the man was out of earshot. You froze, panic gripping your throat. “You were his…handmaiden, correct?”

“Y-Yes, my lady.”

“How very strange.” After that, Lady Beneviento didn't say another word, the frail woman seeming, frankly, exhausted from the morning's excitement. The villagers returned to their toil soon after Karl took his position on the rise, the lord pacing back and forth aimlessly as the ground was broken and dirt was sifted. You returned to your labor as well, continuing to haul water or break apart the larger chunks of loam to be sifted, and you did your best to ignore the broadening gulf of distance between yourself, the rest of the village denizens and Lord Heisenberg.

Karl would occasionally pause in his pacing to lift whatever shrapnel was picked from the earth, the man clearly collecting it with the intent to form some new weapon. He had a relatively sizable stack by supper time, when all labor stopped in order for folk to prepare their evening meal. Wearily the group of you trudged off the field, and force of habit led your footsteps towards what was left of Castle Dimitrescu. You were only brought out of your reverie by Heisenberg's voice, nearly jumping out of your skin when he spoke up behind you, “going somewhere, sweetheart?”

“N-No, not at all!” You denied, once more out of habit, turning to face him. “I was just…I was lost in thought.” Karl nodded as though he accepted your explanation, his own brow furrowed. “What are you doing following me, anyway?!” You sputtered.

The man shrugged. “The lycans. You never know where they might come from next.” He then straightened up, lighting a cigar. He hadn't smoked the entire time he was on guard duty, you realized belatedly. Just paced, back and forth, back and forth-

“Thank you.” You blurted out before you could think it through, dissolving into a stammer when he gave you a look of confusion. Something about his eyes tied your tongue in knots, but eventually you managed to explain yourself. “Thank you f-for coming today. I know you don't really like Lady Beneviento, so I really appreciate you–”

“It's not that I don't like her,” Karl interjected, his expression darkening. “It's…it's more than that. Look, don't worry about it. We made a deal, and I'm going to honor my side of it. That's all there is to it.”

It's more than that. 

A thought came to you as Karl fell into step alongside you, of Lord Heisenberg and Lady Beneviento…you flinched, shaking your head to ward off that mental image even as your brain pragmatically reminded you well they're not actually siblings, there's no harm in it. Perhaps they had simply found solace in one another due to their unique upbringing, it didn't have to be more complex than that. It would explain a bit of the animosity Karl seemed to harbor for her, especially after his binding–

You had to keep yourself from slapping your forehead in annoyance at your own stupidity, of course that's why Karl was on less than good terms with her! From the looks of things she had been in no position to challenge the Lady Dimitrescu when it came to Heisenberg's imprisonment. Alcina had been…well, a bit of a brute, really. You couldn't imagine Donna defying her in any sense, least of all regarding someone who, in theory, was the only one who threatened Lady Dimitrescu's total dominion over the region. 

To think that your misplaced jealousy (and it was extremely misplaced, why on earth would you believe Lord Heisenberg even thought of you like that?!) had led to you immediately assuming to know the hearts and minds of two individuals who were absolutely your betters in every sense of the word. You were ashamed of yourself, feeling small and foolish in your insecurity.

You were a handmaiden, nothing more, and that was how things had to be.

…

Karl was either going to spontaneously combust out of boredom, or spontaneously combust out of having to watch you working in the fields. 

Oh sure, he didn't have to watch you work. But he did. Sometimes. 

Most of the time.

He'd rest his arm on the handle of his new hammer, rest his chin on that and just let his eyes drift where they wanted. At least you seemed oblivious to his stare, too intent on your chores to bother to remain aware of your surroundings. Good thing Karl was there to ward off anything dangerous that may have approached.

And he had absolutely had his hands full for the first few days. The lycans had tried every which way to get past him in order to attack the vulnerable villagers, but it always ended the same: dissolving bodies pushed off to the side, a few grudging thank-yous, maybe an extra bit of bread and cheese thrown his way during the communal lunch. You'd think he would get a bit more recognition; not a single villager had died yet on his watch. 

A distant yell roused him from his staring match with the area you had occupied, the man finding to his silent dismay that you had vanished while he wasn't paying attention. 

The shout had come from the direction of the well. Heisenberg straightened up and the other laborers in the field seemed to take notice, their work pausing while they watched him shift his posture. Heisenberg ignored them, one hand reaching out towards the well. He closed his eyes to aid his concentration, the range of his power dependant on his focus–

Lycans. Multiple, his attention leaping from one to the next. A filling here, a screw in the knee there, bodies lighting up with hotspots of metal that he could turn to his advantage even at this distance.

Wait. He had needed to fix you after Alcina, a screw in the knee, what if he'd left something behind–

Another scream, this time from the other end of the field. The lycans had split what few numbers they had left, attempting to pick off outliers before Karl could reach them. The man growled, irritated, then stripped two pieces of metal off his hammer and sent them spiraling across the field. He barely waited to see if they had hit their mark before he bolted towards the well.

Karl reached out again, mentally straining to find something-

There! Bullet, lodged in a ribcage. He doubted you'd ever been shot in your life, so he took the gamble and latched onto the piece of metal, slamming it upwards until it tore free of whatever body it had resided in. 

Heisenberg finally crested the hill before the square, taking in the sight beneath him momentarily before he sprinted forward. 

It wasn't you. It wasn't you. Where the hell were you?! It was some man from the village, some useless man who was doing his best to defend himself by dashing back and forth around the well. 

Heisenberg gritted his teeth and brought the hammer down on the head of one of the frail lycans, spotting another one already dead. That must have been the bullet bearer. The last lycan whirled, snarling and howling at his intrusion. Karl bared his teeth at the creature, seeing Moreau pandering and groveling to Miranda every time he looked at the piscean lord's creations. “What's the matter? Were you expecting someone else?” Heisenberg sneered, watching the beast quail in real time as it seemed to recognize him. “Donna isn't here, little mutt. But you're going to wish she was.”

…

You turned out the loaf from its pan, exhaling in relief when it held strong and didn't collapse. The crust was a little darker than you'd like, but it would be edible enough! People were always hungry at the noon meal, so you had taken it upon yourself to bake extra loaves of the herbed bread. You had the time for it, after all, since Heisenberg took care of most of the chores in his factory! All you had really needed to do was prepare the dough in advance and transport it in the morning, then briefly break away to put it in a borrowed oven so it would be fresh for the communal meal. A simple enough task.

You wiped your hands off on your apron, wrapping the loaves in a clean towel and then tucking them into a basket so you could tote them to the mishmash of tables that had been set up outdoors in the shade of the gnarled orchard. The weather had continued to hold, a blessing and a curse for the backbreaking work that needed to be accomplished, but after such a long time cooped up in Castle Dimitrescu, the sunlight was wonderful and you cherished every moment you could get. 

A commotion outside caught your attention and you headed for the door, your basket safely slung over your arm. Perhaps everyone had decided to take the break a little early? It was warmer than usual today, it would certainly make sense-

Karl was in the middle of the field, surrounded by the rest of the villagers. “-want them found now, nothing gets done until they're located!” He was shouting, gesturing down at two more lycan corpses. Your heart leaped into your throat, you hadn't even known there was an attack! Had someone gone missing in the confusion?

“Sir?” One of the men spoke up, visibly shrinking when Karl glared his way and then raising a hand to hesitantly point in your direction. Heisenberg glanced up, paused, and then began shoving his way through the crowd. 

You had a ludicrous thought for a moment of fleeing, but you dismissed it immediately. Lord Heisenberg would be on you in an instant. It would be better to just take your punishment on the chin, so to speak.

That might have been easier to accept if Karl didn't look so exceedingly angry. He had even gone a bit red in the face, the color unfamiliar compared to his usual pallor. He towered over you, the large hammer landing haft up in the dirt as he mutely reached for your shoulders. You couldn't help the shudder that ran through your body when he grabbed you, bracing yourself for some terrible beating. 

A moment passed. Then two. Your eyes welled up and you blinked rapidly at the ground. 

“Look at me.” His voice was deceptively even. You wavered uncertainly, then managed to shake your head. “Why not?”

“I am afraid.” You admitted. “I know I should be able to look at you, but you seem furious. I…I am afraid.”

“You're afraid?” Heisenberg barked that strange, coarse laugh and then embraced you. “I was terrified.” He confessed, low enough that only you would hear. “I…I couldn't find you. I thought-”

Your heart was hammering so loudly in your ears you could barely make out his words. Terrified. He had been afraid…for you? “I don't understand.” You whispered.

“I know.” Heisenberg muttered. Then, “neither do I.”

…

The fields were finally all in order three days later. Donna was hoping (perhaps futilely) to have a bumper crop of corn to carry the village through the winter. The mended tractor had sped up the process considerably, but it was still an immense undertaking to cut back the dead crops and overturn them in the fields that Beneviento did want to use. Obviously she didn't exactly have the manpower that the village had enjoyed during Lady Dimitrescu's tyrannical reign, so she had to make several hard decisions to ensure the survival of the people she did have.

Heisenberg didn't envy her. Of course, that was nothing new, but now he really didn't envy her. It was no small feat managing a village. Hell, he'd had his hands full with his Soldats, and they couldn't even talk back! He knew himself too well, knew he didn't have the patience or the restraint for it.

His eyes wandered to you at your comically oversized stove and he had to snort at himself. Maybe he did have patience and restraint, but only in very…specific scenarios. Speaking of which. “Is it done yet?” He called for the fifth time, your little laugh warming him down to his core. 

“Almost!” You answered, turning to give him a quick smile. “I'm sorry, I know you're hungry.” 

“You have no idea.” Karl muttered half to himself, watching the sway of your hips as you resumed your task. Starving. 

“Are you helping to restore the barn tomorrow? Those that can't are stuffing the scarecrows, so I'll probably be doing that. I'm not much one for lumber.”

Truthfully Karl had forgotten about that next chore. Now technically Donna hadn't asked for his help regarding that anyway, so technically he didn't have to. But the thought of you sitting alone amongst the rest of the villagers was…irritating.

He had heard what they said, he always heard what they said and they were hardly kinder now that his imprisonment had ended. If anything, much of their vitriol seemed to have found a new target in you. Where they wouldn't say anything to his face, they were more than willing to say terrible things to you. He had watched you grin and bear it, but it didn't exactly brighten his day to know that you were enduring bullshit because of him. Add to that the fact that you hadn't ever brought it up to him so that the two of you could do something about it…

It was noble, in an exasperating and unfamiliar way, that you wanted to take on his woes or even shield him from them. As if you cared about him.

You were just some silly human.

Several fresh flatbread on a cutting board landed in front of him, and you carefully placed down a trivet on the table before managing to haul over a heavy skillet full of several eggs cooked in a molten hot tomato sauce. “Please be careful, it's extremely hot,” you warned, but Karl was already midway through digging a large spoon (more of a shovel, really) into the delicious-smelling mixture. 

“Do you have time to eat?” He asked gruffly as you moved to return to the stove. “With me, I mean.”

You paused, giving him a surprised look before answering, “of course, if that is your wish.” Karl made a small motion with the spoon and you practically glowed, your smile was so brilliant. You rushed to pick up a small bowl and then you attempted to serve Karl, which the lord immediately brushed off. He instead placed a substantial amount of the tomato mixture into your bowl, topping it with one of the eggs like a garnish. 

How much did you even eat? He wasn't usually in the habit of watching you consume your meals, too busy with his work to bother. The man tore one of the flatbreads in half to share, unable to fight his smile when you shyly accepted your piece. “Enjoy.” 

…

You were hopelessly in love, despite your best intentions. Absolutely smitten, entirely entranced, mired in juvenile infatuation. You stuffed more leaves into the patchworked shirt that would eventually become the body of a scarecrow and you did your best not to let your eyes wander to where Lord Heisenberg was working on the barn. It was a futile effort, of course, but you really did try!

It wasn't exactly fair that he had abandoned his shirt hours ago, the other villagers laboring alongside him in a similar state of undress. He was just so incredibly strong, and so casual about his strength. Carrying beams of lumber with ease to shore up the collapsing roof, using his strange power to tighten otherwise unreachable bolts or to wrestle with problematic nails…you knew you ought to have been paying more attention to your own task, but you also knew you weren't the only one looking at Lord Heisenberg.

Indeed, several individuals around you who were also busying themselves cramming dried cornstalks into old pillowcases would occasionally pause, hands going still while they watched Karl do something particularly impressive. Something in your chest tightened when you noticed the amount of attention fixed on Lord Heisenberg, but Karl tilted his head at that moment and caught your gaze. The man smirked, throwing you a wink, and you frantically ducked your head to avoid further humiliation amidst the tittering laughter of your peers.

Honestly, you had shared breakfast with Lord Heisenberg, not any of these other individuals. You had been Chosen for him at first, but after everything was said and done, he had chosen you. Perhaps…perhaps it wasn't so bad to have a little pride in such things.

You dared to sneak another look and when Karl met your eyes again, you gave him a soft, fond smile before returning to your task. There was still work to be done, regardless of your own internal discourse, and certain things couldn't wait. 

…

Heisenberg sought you out at the noon meal, the man having taken note of the furtive glances you'd been shooting his way all damn morning. He had to admit, it was…flattering, but also oddly sweet. 

He posted up alongside you on the bench, a trencher of excessively-cooked fish balanced on his leg. You passed him a slice of bread with some pork drippings while apologizing for the lack of salt, but the man waved you off, gesturing down at the fish. “Help y'self,” he mumbled through his first bite, “watch f’ the li'l bones.”

“I suppose-” you began, tugging at the still-attached tail and then making a quiet noise of surprise when the spine snapped, dropping the rest of the backbone onto the plate. “Oh dear. Well, that makes it easier.” You delicately placed the tail off to the side. “The Lady only ever had us prepare red meat or poultry.” You said, half to yourself while you frowned doubtfully down at the remains of the fish. “I'm not quite…sure how to do this.”

Before he could think better of it, Karl picked up a piece of the fish and easily stripped several sections off the ribs, offering them to you wordlessly. You accepted with a grateful smile, placing your portion onto your own slice of bread and then taking a large bite. The man continued to prepare his own smaller portion, pretending not to notice the way you gulped water with every bite.

“It's a bit, er, dry.” You mumbled when Karl finally asked how you liked the fish. “I'm afraid I don't understand the appeal. Maybe some seasonings would improve the flavor?”

Karl cleared his throat, stifling a laugh. The fish was as dry as a bone; he was more impressed that it had stuck together this long instead of just evaporating outright. “You're drinking more water than the fish did.” He remarked, making you sputter. “Don't worry, it's edible. Whatever you don't want, I'll finish.” 

“I'm sorry, I don't mean to be ungrateful.” You apologized guiltily, ducking your head. 

“We'll eat good tonight.” Karl crunched a needle-like bone, feeling it pierce the side of his cheek. “Let the rabble burn their fish and gawk at their betters.” 

“Oh, you noticed.” Your voice had gone thin.

“‘Course I noticed. I'm not goddamn blind.” Heisenberg growled, “they're terrified of me but they'll stare like slack-jawed idiots as soon as I show some skin.” He turned to the side, leaning in just a little and lowering his voice. “You're the only one I want gawkin’ at me, sweetheart.” 

You stared up at him, gawking in every sense of the word. Karl could feel his smirk making a triumphant return and he dared to slip a finger beneath your chin, feeling the way your pulse beat wildly at his touch. 

“Don't get all shy on me now, sweetheart,” he teased, tapping his thumb against your lips and then pulling away once more. “We can discuss further, when we have some…privacy.”

You blinked hazily before jolting, your back going poker straight as you focused your attention pointedly on the remains of the fish. 

…

“It's not hard to notice the way you treat me.” 

Karl turned from his workbench to look at you, the lord obviously surprised by your words. Your whole body was trembling but you did your best to maintain some level of eye contact. You already knew he could sense your fear, but hopefully he wouldn't misinterpret your apprehension. 

What you truly feared was rejection, or even disposal after brief fascination. The Lady had been so changeable in her moods and while Karl hadn't displayed quite that same level of vacillation, he did have a temper which seemed to burn hot. You weren't sure if you would be able to endure being disposed of, being ignored for the rest of your days once the shine wore off. 

“You treat me differently than the rest of the villagers.” You did your best to gentle your tone. This wasn't an accusation, after all, but an observation. 

Karl stood. “You make it sound like I shouldn't!” He half-laughed, but there was no humor in his tone. “Why wouldn't I treat you differently? You're the only one worth a damn in this entire village. You're the only one who treated me like a person, it's only natural that I'd treat you right.”

“You're a lord, though.” You pointed out. “You shouldn't display favoritism.”

“Have I ever given you the impression that I care about what I should or shouldn't do?” Heisenberg asked incredulously. “I killed Alcina. You of all people can understand that's something that I technically shouldn't have done and yet here we are, sans one noble House Dimitrescu.”

You shook your head, wishing you could just get him to understand. “It's not like that, it's just that…I mean, the rest of the villagers, they…” You trailed off, frustrated. What would you even say? ‘They're being rude to me’? Oh surely, what a change in behavior. “They just treat me differently.”

“Do you want me to stop?”

“No!” You were both startled by the speed and volume of your denial, Karl snorting in apparent disbelief at the outburst. You glared at the floor, making a futile attempt at hiding from the man. 

“Then what's the problem?” He asked brusquely, one ankle tucked behind the other as he leaned against his workbench. “I'm offering even more than what I've already done, and I don't want anything more in return. I'm offering what you know you want, sweetheart.”

“You know what I want, now?” You shot back, a little irritated at how easy everything seemed to be for him.

“Of course.” Karl replied with a cocky little tilt of his head. “You want me over you, or maybe under you. Behind you? Choices, choices.” 

Your dream from the other night raged to the forefront of your mind once more and you buried your face in your hands with a frustrated little scream. “I didn't want to be like this.” You mumbled through your fingers, oblivious to how stiff Karl's posture went at your confession. “It's not my place to be like this, surely someone else-”

“No one.” The lord said curtly. “Not a soul. They can look at me all they want, but it'll be you I'm coming back to every night.” His expression softened ever so slightly. “If you'll have me, sweetheart.”

Sweetheart. 

“If…if I agree to this,” you swallowed hard, trying to keep your voice steady. “If I agree to this, you have to promise me that you won't…I mean, that if you get bored of me or you grow tired of my company, you'll state it plainly. Don't lie to me to spare my feelings, just tell me outright. I couldn't bear continuing to…engage with you if you no longer found my company pleasant.”

“It won't come to that.” Karl stated firmly. “Promise me you'll do the same, though. If you decide you'd rather move on, let me know so I can send you off.” 

“I doubt it will happen!” You rushed to assure him, “but I will acquiesce, of course. Neither of us are obliged to stay if we are unhappy!”

“Good.” Heisenberg fidgeted for a moment. “Can we…” He made an odd gesture at your pallet, “discuss further?”

“What else is there to discuss?” You queried, genuinely confused. Karl rolled his eyes with a groan, scooping you up into his arms and carrying you to your pallet. “Lord Heisenberg, I-”

“Karl.” He breathed in your ear, his voice sending an entirely different shiver down your spine. “Call me Karl when we're alone.”

“O-Of course.” Lord Heisenberg looked down at you expectantly and you bit your lip, hesitant even now. “Karl.”

“Sweetheart,” he practically purred the endearment, the gentle tone of his voice and the adoration in his eyes leaving you breathless. 

“I will meet you however I can.” You offered, propping yourself up on your elbows beneath him. “I am, however, not overly experienced in these matters.”

“Do you want me inside you at some point tonight?” Karl asked bluntly, smirking when you sputtered. “Don't worry about your experience. Whatever you've had, I'll make you forget about it.” 

“Oh.” You wheezed, more than a little frazzled. “Surely it would be better for you if I knew what I was doing?”

Karl ran his tongue over his teeth in that odd, nervous gesture. “Not really. I don't want you to be self-conscious.” He murmured, pressing his lips to the side of your neck. The man began unbuttoning your shirt, shoving the fabric off to the side so he could kiss your collarbone. 

The feeling of his facial hair on your bare skin had you trembling beneath him, your hands feebly gripping his shoulders in an effort to ground yourself. Oh certainly, there had been juvenile fumblings under the stairs in the kitchen, but you had never engaged in anything so…all-encompassing. Karl seemed ready to undo you entirely, the man taking his time with every button and hook that he encountered. 

He finally untied your breast band, slipping the cloth out from beneath you with a soft rustle. “I'm going to put my mouth here,” Karl warned you, his expression serious. 

Unsure of where here was, you still nodded your head, crying out when Karl roughly laved his tongue over your right nipple. The man coaxed the bud into his mouth, humming while you bucked and squirmed under his ministrations. No one had ever-! 

His free hand sought out your other breast, fingers teasing and fondling you to stiffness as you whimpered and bit down on your knuckles in an effort to keep quiet. The man growled something against your skin and then his knee dug beneath your thigh, hooking your leg up over his own and pressing his pelvis to yours through the layers of clothing. His skin was so hot, and the way his intense eyes watched your every move as you reacted helplessly to him…it was all too much and not enough at the same time.

“Karl,” you half-sobbed, fingers fumbling at the open throat of his shirt. “Please, please Karl-”

“You don't even know what you want,” the man gently teased you, undoing the laces on your skirt and splaying the homespun weave open on either side of your hips, leaving you wholly exposed aside from your underthings. Karl shoved your legs up over his thighs, leaning his body forward to return to your breasts. As he did however, he rutted against your pelvis firmly, making you whine without intending to. You flushed hot, avoiding his eyes as he cautiously shifted his weight. “Mm, what's wrong sweetheart? You're so quiet all of a sudden,” the lord breathed, grinding his body down in an abrupt motion that startled another whine out of you. “Is this what you want, hmm?”

He didn't wait for whatever reply might have been forthcoming, the man busying himself at your breasts again. You arched your back, feeling his canines scrape your sensitive skin in a delicious tingle of sensation. “Karl-” 

“I know, sweetheart.” He whispered, slipping a hand into the band of your underwear and tugging them off, then unbuttoning the placket of his pants. “Look, look at me.” 

You managed to raise your head to stare down the length of your body at whatever he was trying to show you, your half-lidded eyes widening and the flush rising on your cheeks once more. Karl huffed out a breath, stroking his cock and pressing the heated skin against your wet cunt. You were so slippery that he ended up sliding over your entrance, the head of his cock nudging your clit with a harsh little bump that had you whimpering.

“Too much?” Karl asked through gritted teeth, forcing out a laugh when you vigorously shook your head. “Good, right? Feels good?” 

You could barely get a word out, your voice dissolving into a moan when he reached up to toy with one of your nipples again. “Yes, yes, please…” 

“Alright, I'll keep goin’.” Karl assured, using his hand to spread the lips of your cunt a little wider so he could slot himself against you more firmly. His low rumble when he rutted his cock between his hand and your cunt fanned the ache deep in your stomach, making your hips jolt up of their own accord. “Oh, easy, easy,” the man gasped, obviously startled. “I know you want more, sweetheart, but I don't want to hurt you.” He held up his hand and you realized dimly that it was trembling. “Inside, yeah?” 

You nodded wildly, propping yourself up on your elbows again in an effort to watch what he was about to do. Karl shot you a wink, making you let out a nervous giggle. The sound quickly turned into a gasp as he tapped his thumb to your clit and pressed his middle finger against your entrance, the rough pads of his digits rasping along your skin briefly. Then he breached your cunt, his finger experimentally stroking at your insides while his thumb rolled over your clit. 

“Say my name, sweetheart.” Karl instructed you softly. 

“Karl, I-” your voice cracked and broke when the man pressed his index finger into you, spreading you wider and making lewd, wet noises with your cunt. 

“I know,” he crooned, “I know sweetheart, you're already so wet for me but we need to make sure. Show me what you like.”

You squeezed your eyes shut, embarrassed. “I don't–I don't know.” You admitted softly, arching your back when he flicked over one of your nipples again. 

“Mmm, I think you do.” Karl growled, tormenting your nipple with firm strokes that he echoed on your clit, making you squirm and cry out. “How do you make yourself feel good?”

“I haven't!” you denied desperately. “I wasn't allowed, I-I–”

“No?” Karl interrupted you, raising an eyebrow. “You never found something that made you feel nice? Never took advantage of…oh, I dunno’, a certain angle, maybe a pillow?”

“Wasn't allowed.” You reiterated, practically babbling while his fingers curled and thrust into you. “Wasn't allowed wasn't allowed-”

“But did you?”

“No!” You sobbed, caught off-guard when he twisted his wrist and did–something with his fingers that made an explosion happen behind your eyes. Your whole body went tense and then a warm sensation flooded your groin, pulling a bone-deep groan out of you as you sank into the pallet once more.

“Coming so soon? Guess you were serious.” Karl sounded surprised, but also like he was talking to you from down a hallway. You whimpered instead of replying, making him laugh. 

His cock slid along your pussy again, sending a lance of heat into your belly. Your cunt was still riddled with aftershocks from whatever Karl had done to you, the man panting softly as he rolled his cock over your twitching entrance. Back and forth, back and forth, every motion inspiring that same heat to build in your stomach and causing you to moan in response. 

“Spread your legs, sweetheart.” He requested, clapping a hand to your shaking calf. “Let's get these nice and wide for me, loosen everything up so you're comfortable.” Broad palms kneaded at the insides of your thighs, the man helping to warm up the spasming muscles with careful strokes. His fingers were still wet from being inside you, leaving cool trails along your inner thigh when he moved his hand. “I…I can't promise this is going to be good at first.” Karl warned, his expression slightly pained. “We can stop now.”

“No, I want it. I–” you hesitated, still not certain of what exactly you were hoping for. “I want everything.” You finished instead, hoping you sounded firmer than you felt. “I can endure it.”

Karl chewed on his lower lip. “If it's too much, you'd better tell me.” His voice dropped into a lower, more grave register. “Understand, sweetheart?”

You swallowed hard, nodding. “Yes, Karl.”

“Good.” 

…

It still took Heisenberg a few minutes to work up the courage to start. He justified the delay by continuing to work you over with his fingers, mentally warring with himself while you sighed and panted under him. 

He could stop. He wasn't an animal. He could be careful, and you had given your word that you would tell him if it was too much. 

It would be enough. It had to be. Damn it all, if he couldn't trust himself to manage this now, he never would. Karl grimaced, tucking his fingers beneath your chin to hold your gaze. “I'm going to start.” He said quietly, “it may be uncomfortable.”

“I understand.” So brave, always so brave, staring up at him with a hazy sort of determination that sent a hot rush down his spine. 

The lord barely refrained from nervously laughing, choosing instead to spread you wide and rest the head of his cock against your entrance. He didn't move for a moment, giving you the opportunity to say no, but in a surprising twist you wrapped your fingers around your own thighs, clumsily helping him to hold you open. 

Karl slowly, slowly pressed his dick into you, the man finding himself having to adjust multiple times in order to keep the motion relatively smooth. Gods, you were so soft and warm, it was incredible. If it wasn't for the guilt he felt welling up inside him, it would be perfect. But despite your natural lubrication and warmup this was still obviously a massive undertaking, your voice cracking when you exhaled a moan of what seemed to be discomfort as he bottomed out. “Oh, Karl, oh God–” you whimpered, fingernails digging into your own thighs. “Can I–can you hold still? I need-I need a minute t-to…”

“Of course.” Karl muttered before you could finish, settling you carefully into the cradle of his hips. “Let me know when you're ready.” He rested his thumb on your clit, the digit sweeping softly back and forth while you breathed deep and adjusted to his size. “Take as long as you need, sweetheart.” He continued, hanging his head when you inadvertently clenched down on his cock. “As long as you need, I can wait.” Truthfully, being inside you at all was undoing him, but he wasn't particularly concerned about his own stamina. He doubted you'd care either. 

Speaking of which, you tilted your hips upwards slightly and Karl watched your eyes fly open, the man biting back a smirk as you all but fucked yourself onto his cock for a breath. Heisenberg pressed a hand to your chest, easing you flat once more.

“I can take it from here, sweetheart.” He murmured, “do you mind if I finish inside you? Promise it won't do anythin’ but make a mess.” The cadou, the gift from Miranda, had given many things to him, but it had also taken much away. Humanity, normalcy, the promise of a simple life with someone else…

In response your heels dug into the small of his back, sheathing him impossibly deeper into you. “Please,” you begged, your eyes teary and cheeks wet. “Need you, need all of you.”

Heisenberg snarled, fucking down into you. He tugged your legs up off his hips, bending them at the knees and forcing you wide open, vulnerable for what he knew would be an insatiable event. “Take it then, sweetheart, take what's yours.” He crooned, certain deep down that he was being at least a little mean. After all, you were giving him this precious gift, the least he could do was behave himself. Easier said than done with your nails scraping tiny crescents between his shoulder blades though, easier said than done when your mouth was right next to his ear and you were sobbing his name while he fucked the sense out of you. Maybe you didn't mind him being a little less gentle? 

Karl pulled out and rutted against you for another moment, enjoying the way your clit pulsed when he tapped it with his cock and the way your body went tense with the pressure. Evidently you were wound even tighter than he was, despite your lack of experience. You cried out when he reached up and teased one of your nipples, your back bowing in response. 

“You close again? Want to come on my cock?” Karl asked, laughing outright when you nodded desperately. “Anything for you sweetheart. Hurt a little less?”

“It's not–it doesn't hurt, you just…” your fingers tangled in the sheets as you fidgeted, obviously trying to explain what it was that you felt. “You're so deep. It's not a…not a hurt, it's more of an ache.”

“Too deep?” The man queried, already considering what he needed to adjust posture-wise to keep you comfortable.

“No, I–” Karl felt the heated flush that spread across your skin, the man patiently waiting until you admitted, “I enjoy it, Karl. It's…I like it.”

“You like me deep inside you?” Heisenberg rolled his hips, sheathing his dick once more and thrusting hard enough to knock the breath out of you for a moment. “As deep as I can get?”

“Please-” you begged, “you fill me up so well–”

“Well I'm sure as hell going to,” Karl grunted. “I want to keep doing this forever, if you're amenable.” 

“I'd like that.” You smiled tearily up at him and Karl's breath hitched, hips stuttering as he lost his battle against the urge to spill into you.

“Sweetheart-” he gasped in your ear, the thunder of his own pulse nearly drowning out your whimpering. “Fuck, sweetheart, you're everything, you're all I want, you…I love you.” 

The man froze, realizing what he'd just blurted out (and the way your body had reacted to it). You tilted your head back, panting and moaning while your soaked little cunt throbbed around him and fucking hell–

Maybe it was alright. Maybe you hadn't heard him. 

“‘Love you too-” you managed to say, your voice weak and tremulous. 

Something inside Karl snapped (snapped more?) and the man buried his face in your neck, growling swears and entreaties in equal measure as he fucked you through your climax. Your answer was to wrap your arms around his neck and beg for more, threading your fingers through his hair and tugging until his scalp ached hotly. Karl wanted to scream, he wanted to fight something, but more than even those most primal urges, he just wanted to fuck you until you forgot your own name. 

A combination of your come and his own began to sluggishly drip from your cunt onto the sheets, clearly not helped by Karl’s relentless rhythm. The man absently slid a hand beneath the small of your back to adjust you and his fingers passed over the raised area of the multiple cursive Ds branded into your flesh. Again speaking before he thought, driven entirely by base instinct and possessive rage, the lord bared his teeth and seethed, “You are mine. Nobody else gets to touch you ever again.” Not Alcina, not fucking Moreau, never again.

“I'm y-yours, I'm yours Karl…” was your stilted, hiccuping reply, not that he'd even needed (or deserved) an answer. Heisenberg felt his expression soften, felt the fight-ready tension in his shoulders unwind, and the man placed apologetic kisses along your breasts and collarbone. You were so impossibly good to him, it was evident he would be repaying you for the rest of your time together.

“I dreamed about doing this.” The confession was soft, rasping in his dry throat. “Stuck in my cell, I-I'd think about it. You were so damn nice to me, I just…” Karl hesitated, well aware of your half-lidded stare boring a hole through him. “I wasn't used to humans being kind. Hell, anyone being kind. Guess I'm a little fucked up.” ‘A little’, fuck's sake.

“I would have let you.” 

Fuck's sake.

Karl closed his eyes, resting his forehead on your collarbone and exhaling raggedly. “I wouldn't have been good to you.” He admitted. “I was still too angry, too mean. I don't…it wouldn't have gone well. Trust me, it's better this way.”

You pressed your face into his neck, inhaling deeply and pressing kisses to the sweaty skin there. “I'm sorry.”

“Not your fault, sweetheart. I was fucked up before you were born.” The man shook his head, rolling his shoulders absently. “Fucked up, stuck in the cycle of being bitter and hateful, helpless to do anything but wallow and further other people's ambitions…it really got to me.” He nudged his nose into your cheek teasingly. “And then you came along.”

“The Lady chose me for you, she said it was a great honor.” You rolled your eyes, huffing out a breath. “She didn't mention the part where I would be sacrificed at the solstice, of course.”

“Well yeah, you wouldn't have agreed to it otherwise,” Karl allowed, his smirk fading slightly. “But then you chose me. A hard road to walk, sweetheart, and I don't take it for granted. I…thank you. For–well, for everything.” 

You sniffled, burying your face in his neck once more. 

Karl hummed in contentment, continuing to fuck you at a leisurely pace. “What do you say–” he panted when you clenched down on him again, “we do something special for the winter solstice?”

You squinted up at him, your brow furrowed in confusion. Karl just pressed a kiss to your forehead and smiled his usual, self-satisfied grin.

…

“I'm not certain that I-” you paused, excusing yourself as you yawned broadly. Karl continued wrapping a patched scarf around your neck, patiently waiting for the rest of your question. “-understand what the whole point of this is, Karl.”

“Have some cider.” He insisted instead of answering you, pressing a warm, chipped mug into your hands. “It's almost time.”

You grumbled a little to yourself but obediently sipped on the mulled beverage while Karl banked the fire in the stove and put on his own coat. Several days before the winter solstice, the man had gone out and constructed a small shelter on the rise of land the Duke normally inhabited, and it was from this shelter that the two of you emerged into the frigid blue of dawn. The Duke, parked nearby in his cart as ever, offered a wave but no further commentary, for which you were immensely grateful. It was still a bit early to be cordial, nevermind carry on a full conversation.

The air was breathtakingly cold; you could feel the rush of wind whipping past your nose and biting at any exposed skin it could find. The hot cider was now a lifeline and you kept your mittened hands tightly wrapped around it, taking a more hearty sip.

“Not long now.” Karl murmured, embracing you from behind and resting his chin on the crown of your head. 

“Are you going to explain to me what the point of all of this is?” You grumbled, slouching back against him.

It was several minutes before Karl spoke again, the man seemingly content to sit in silence. “It's…I don't know, it's like the opposite of the binding ritual.” He fidgeted with your coat for a moment (well, it was one of his coats, but you'd sewed an extra thick lining into it to keep yourself warm), eventually tucking his hands into the pockets. 

You hummed, not overly certain you understood what he was getting at, but also no longer cold.

The sun slowly rose over the horizon, burning through the tall pines and setting the morning mist alight with prismatic eddies in its wake. You squinted against the brilliant beams, every inch of your body suddenly tingling. It felt a bit like waking up after a long, long sleep in an awkward position, disoriented and rumpled. Sometimes in Heisenberg's factory you could go days without seeing the outside world, so perhaps your reaction was to be expected. It was a beautiful sunrise, all things considered.

Karl sounded a little faint when he said, “I think…I think there might have been something to that old witch after all.” He shook himself bodily, as if he was a dog that had just been given an unwanted bath. “Granted, nothing she can do about me now. But it does feel sort of–mystical.” He muttered something you couldn't make out under his breath, then raised his voice again. “Shortest day, longest night, rebirth, blah blah blah. We'll have to have a huge bonfire tonight, I guess.”

“Oh?” You tilted your head back to look at him. “Why?”

“Burning away the old, in with the new.” Karl sucked in a deep breath. “I'm…I'm happy you're still here with me.” He said gruffly.

“I'm happy to be here.” You assured him, your voice soft. 

“...I haven't told Donna I'll be building a massive fire next to her shitty little village.” Heisenberg mentioned casually moments later, as though it had only just occurred to him. Judging from the incredibly smug grin on his face, however, that had been his plan from the start. 

With Karl animatedly explaining about the Wild Hunt and the connections between someone named Freyja and the winter ‘rebirth’ of the sun, the two of you set off into the woods to search for dead trees and other dry kindling, his hand in your own. His grin eventually softened into a genuine smile as he answered your questions, and you found yourself falling silent just to hear him expand upon what was clearly a favored subject to him. He had a strange light in his eyes, but not necessarily an unwelcome one. It seemed more like he was returning to life.

The arbiter that was the solstice appeared to have once more come to bear, the cycle beginning anew. You had broken the previous cycle of course, so you hadn't the faintest idea of what this new one could have in store for you, but you knew for a fact that whatever the future held, you and Lord Heisenberg would face it together. 

Karl, you thought privately, a content little smile on your face.

“Why are you starin’ at me like that?”

You started, realizing belatedly that yes, you had been staring at the large man currently giving you a sideways look. “I–you seem happy, that's all. And I'm glad that you are.”

Karl blew out a raspberry, the steam from his breath swirling into the air. “‘Course I am. You're here.” You started beaming and he groaned, rumpling your hair while teasing, “don't get any ideas, sweetheart. Just because I want to keep you around forever…”

A terrifying lord, a ferocious fighter, The Iron Horse…and lastly, your love.

[jadelemonadee]

give me a complex rundown of samuels personality in your mind when i say complex i mean complex like 3 paragraphs

shiiiit okay here we go fasten your seatbelts (guys idk if i’ll be able to stretch this shit out into three paragraphs but I DID get the best score on my essay about bottled water for a standardized test soo…,) also im going to be stealing a lot of stuff from genius annotations and other things beware

ALRIGHT HERE WE GO so how i see him personally is just this annoying, stuck up guy who is the #1 george III glazer (/j) + he views himself as above the revolutionists and sees them as these vulgar barbarians who are trying to lead people to “the dark side” (don’t let them lead you astray) BUUUT although he acts all righteous, hamilton pushes him off of that high horse of his (and almost his box…,literally) with his AWESOME EPIC WITTY writing and argumentative skills showing that seabury wasn’t even all that in the first place (and NOT ELOQUENT!!!! cmon man you can’t be acting all high and mighty and then epically lose a debate to someone young enough to be your son HUMBLE YOURSELF BEFORE THAT 19 YEAR OLD DOES IT FOR YOU😭😭) another thing ive noticed is that whenever hamilton speaks there’s little to no instruments in the background maybe showing that he doesn’t even need music for support of his arguments and to completely obliterate samuel (just listen to the instrumental trust…….idk where im going with this alright it’s 12:10 as im typing this part)

okay some other things i want to add are little details about this whole shabang like how seabury’s accent seems almost forced, as if he’s trying to create similarities between him and the beloved figure of his majesty (/sar 😛) and the fact that seabury went by the name A.W. farmer in his papers about the revolution which IN THE MUSICAL could maybe be another example of my previous point since one of the king’s nicknames was “farmer george” (although as far as i know it was used some with political satirists….SAMUEL FCS DO SOME RESEARCH BEFORE MAKING YOUR KING GEORGESONA OR SMTH😭😭😭) secondly i really like the detail that lin had both seabury and the king’s songs both include instruments like the harpsichord + they both use formal vocabulary meanwhile The Revolution People (TM) use more modern slang + instruments in their songs, showing the growing contrasts and conflicts between the loyalists and patriots!!!! so cool we love you LMM anywho also the fact that seabury soon realizes after hamilton starts interrupting him that he won’t be able to beat hamilton with words so he might as well try to physically get ahead of him (pushing the box in front of him ect ect) and then doing his big “FOR SHAME” near the end as a last resort, “modulating the key” as they call it /j (this one was said by thayne himself) lastly just the fact that you can hear the guys making barking and whining noises after hamilton makes his epic mange joke….,,like that’s so silly i love that for them

i did it i technically did three paragraphs ARE YOU HAPPY ANON /j

[fruitcoops]

Dial Drunk

Fic O'Ween Day 1, for the prompt 'First Frost'! Many thanks to @noots-fic-fests for organizing and @lumosinlove for the best characters <3 Have some baby Sirius and James causing Dumo heart failure for your Thursday!

TW drunkenness (silly fun, not angsty)

Pascal enjoyed 20 minutes of a PG-13 movie (the first in three months) before stumbling, out-of-sync footsteps outside his house interrupted his peace. He should have known better than to think a quiet night in would live up to its name.

“Come on, man, work with me—”

“Shh.”

The kids were in bed. Why couldn’t that be enough?

“No, no, why can’t we just go back to your house?”

“Because—”

They had been gems this evening. Dinner passed without a fuss; a FaceTime with their mother riveted them more than a TV show, for once.

“James…”

“Don’t whine at me, god. Can I have my arm back?”

Pascal cursed softly to himself as he rummaged the remote from the couch cushions and paused the movie. Rustling became a scuffle—he opened the door just as the bell rang through the house.

James Potter stared at him, then broke into a broad grin. “Dumo! Hi!”

“Did you read the sign?”

James’ eyes flickered over the doorframe. Pascal got to watch him read the Please Do Not Ring Bell—Infant Inside! in real time. His smile slipped into more of a grimace. “…shit. My bad.”

“Bonjour,” Sirius mumbled blearily, listing into James’ side. “Ça va?”

Pascal sighed. He had been hoping someone on the team would keep an eye on those two. Parties were all well and good until the dynamic duo of poor decision-making was left to their own devices.

“We had fun,” James offered by way of explanation. Sirius’ hiccup jostled them both. “Maybe—maybe a little too much fun.”

“Got kissed on the cheek,” Sirius said with an enthusiastic nod.

The lipstick print on his face was glittery in the porchlight. “Congratulations.”

“Merci.”

Christ above. “Pots.”

James had the decency to look embarrassed. “I know.”

“Are you serious?”

“Non, c’est moi,” Sirius snorted, swaying toward the potted plant at the edge of the stairs. They both reached for him at once; Sirius made a noise of surprise, but was pliable as putty when James coaxed him back out of the danger zone. The sharp tang of alcohol and at least three different perfumes spilled off him in waves. Sirius was doe-eyed when he bent to rest his head on James’ shoulder. “Thanks for bringing me home.”

Pascal arched a brow; James gave Sirius a guilty pat on the back. “Any time, buddy.”

“Are you sure we can’t go back to your house instead?”

“Mhmm.”

Sirius huffed in disappointment. “Why?”

“Because my guest room isn’t unpacked.”

“Can sleep on the couch. Or the floor.”

“Lily’s coming over tomorrow morning.”

Sirius’ groan cracked as he pushed his face into James’ shoulder. “Just put me in the backyard.”

“One of us will turn the hose on you.”

Pascal shook his head and reached out. “Allez, mon fils, let’s get you—"

“You’re so mean,” Sirius complained, still fixated on James. “I don’t want to go home. Dumo’s going to be upset.”

James’ gaze darted to him for a beat. “Pads, no, it’ll be fine.”

“Non.”

Pascal’s stomach sank. “I’m not upset,” he tried, gentling his voice.

But Sirius just nodded. “Yes, he is.”

“Hey.” Pascal prodded his arm. “Hey, petit chou.”

“Don’t like cabbage. Crunchy.”

Pascal exchanged a look with James and fought an eye roll. Without initial surprise clouding his vision, James was clearly only more sober by a slim margin. His glasses seemed determined to balance on the very end of his nose, despite repeated attempts to push them up again. His sneakers shuffled sheepishly on the doormat.

“Just tell me you didn’t drive.”

“I don’t have a car,” Sirius said brightly.

James gave a vigorous shake of his head. “Fuck no, we took an Uber. Are you crazy?”

“Are you drunk?” Pascal countered. Sirius barked a laugh; James’ already-flushed cheeks darkened. A once-over revealed little he didn’t already know, only a comfort in the sense that they both seemed hale and whole regardless of their wobbling.

Oh, to be twenty again.

Pascal inclined his head toward the house and stood aside. “In. Don’t wake the kids.”

An attempt to fit through the door at the same time was admirable, but doomed, as they soon realized after a few seconds of fumbling. James eventually squeezed past with Sirius trotting close behind. Something about it struck Pascal as a particular poetic irony.

“Where’d you end up?”

“Place on sixth.” James’ hands were clumsy on his shoelaces. Sirius observed him for a moment, then kicked his own shoes into the closet still tied.

“Was it fun?”

“Mhmm. Hopping tonight.”

“We left early,” Sirius chimed in. “James said I needed to go home.”

“He’s smart. You should listen to him more.” Listen to me more, he added in his mind as he guided James’ jacket off his flailing arm and nudged Sirius’ phone away from the precarious table edge. Despite their clumsiness, their clear efforts to stay quiet did not go unnoticed. It was a common courtesy that some of the rowdier boys tended to forget.

“D’you want me to—”

“Guest room,” Pascal interrupted, tilting his chin down the hall. “Bathroom’s yours. Advil in the top drawer.”

James took a breath, then paused. “Does it have one of those kid-lock things?”

“Yes.”

He whistled through his teeth. A reluctant nod followed. “Kay. I can handle that.”

“Lame if you couldn’t,” Sirius mumbled.

“Like you’d do better.”

His lazy grin became offense in half a second; his back stiffened under Pascal’s palm. “I could—”

“Quiet,” Pascal reminded him.

“I could,” Sirius repeated in a harsh whisper, jabbing his finger toward James. “And you know it.”

James raised his hands in mocking surrender before raking one through his hair. His glasses had wandered down his nose again, and he gave Pascal a drowsy blink. “I’ll be out by, like, nine tomorrow. Lily’s coming over at eleven, so…y’know. Gotta clean my kitchen ‘n shit.”

“I’m sure she’ll appreciate that,” was Pascal’s response of choice. He was fairly sure noting the late (or rather, early) hour was a poor course of action if he wanted James Potter asleep in the next five minutes.

James squinted at the floor for a few more seconds. “Fuck, I gotta wash my sheets.”

“Go to bed, James.”

“Yeah. Yeah, alright.”

Pascal propped Sirius up on his shoulder as he watched James go. There was a hole in the heel of his sock that was only going to get bigger. James probably wouldn’t throw the thing out until it literally fell off his foot. Maybe it was a good thing Lily was visiting—she always shook some sense into him.

“Dumo.”

Pacal’s stomach swooped. “Are you going to throw up?”

“No,” Sirius snorted, as if the very idea was ridiculous.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothin’.”

“What do you need?”

“Nothin’.” Sirius wrinkled his nose and stuck his tongue out for a weak raspberry. “English tastes gross. Makes my head hurt. Regulus doesn’t like it, either. Mine is a lot better since because I was here but he’s pratiss—practick—pratique. In school. See? Dumb language.”

“You’re doing a very good job.”

Sirius beamed at him. “Really?”

“Ouais. Much better than I did.”

“Yours is a lot better than mine, though.”

Pacal was glad he didn’t protest the subtle guidance toward the basement stairs, if he noticed at all. “Well,” he began, grunting slightly at the weight imbalance on the first step. “I’ve been in the league for nearly twenty years. You’ll pick it up.”

“I wanna play hockey forever,” Sirius sighed.

“Give it your best, and you’ll do great things.”

Sirius hummed in acknowledgment, though he seemed a little too focused on holding the railing for Pascal to believe it. They edged their way down two more steps before he glanced up again with an astonished look on his face. “You’ve been in the league as long as I’ve been alive?”

Holy Jesus fucking Christ. His tongue went dry and stiff as leather. “I guess I—” Pascal tipped his head toward the ceiling and let a breath siphon through his nose. He should’ve taken James up on the backyard offer. A spray-down with the hose would do Sirius some good. “I hadn’t, ah. Thought about that. Merci.”

“That’s crazy.”

“Isn’t it just?” Perhaps if he asked nicely, Sirius would kick him down the stairs. It would be kinder. He might even hit his head hard enough to forget the entire evening. Where was the shy boy covered in winter’s first frost when Pascal needed him, anyway?

He winced at the thought. As accidentally-devastating as Sirius was with alcohol coursing through his veins instead of common sense, he couldn’t make himself wish for the opposite. They had only just managed to get his shell open; James better than anyone. There really wasn’t a world where he would trade this newfound vibrancy for anything, but—

His lower back panged when Sirius lurched toward his bed. “Woah.”

“Sorry, sorry,” Sirius muttered. “Tired.”

“Je sais.” Pascal shook his head against the glimmers of pain in his vision and made a mental note to ask Remus about that during their next session. “Pajamas, water, then bed.”

“But—”

“Pajamas, water, bed,” he repeated firmly. “Or skip the pajamas. I don’t care.”

Sirius frowned down at himself, scratching at his cheek. Glossy sparkles spread into an amorphous blob. Exasperation pressed against the inside of Pascal’s ribs; he sat Sirius on the edge of his desk and dampened a washcloth in the bathroom, then returned to his side. “Let me see.”

“See what?”

“Your cheek.”

Dark brows knit. “Not hurt.”

“Just—hold on.”

Sirius was flinching back before the cloth even got close. “Hey, hey, non.”

“You’ve got—”

A forceful push to his wrist made him pause. “Non.”

Pascal blinked. “There’s something on your cheek,” he tried. Sirius watched him with strange, alert suspicion. He held both hands palm-up between them and bit the inside of his lip against the urge to reach again. “Here.”

Silver eyes flickered back and forth in the low lamplight, towel to Pascal to towel to Pascal. Sirius shifted on his perch and took the cloth hesitantly. The rigidity of his torso eased once the gloss-print was gone under a few harsh scrubs, and Pascal took it back without issue.

“I’m not upset with you.”

“Hmm?”

“I’m not upset.” He watched Sirius take two large gulps of water from the bottle on his desk before flopping back on the bed. “I’m just glad you two got home safe.”

Sirius made a faint noise of agreement while he made himself comfortable, tugging at the sheets with little regard for their proper direction. A leg and most of his shoulders stuck out when he finally gave up and pushed the side of his face into the pillow. Pascal tucked the blanket around him on instinct; his heart tugged at the long, contented exhale that followed. “James is so nice to me.”

“He’s your friend.”

“So nice,” Sirius mumbled, almost to himself. His eyes were already half-shut. “Dumo?”

“Ouais?”

“Is James going to play hockey with me forever?”

“Ah.” Of all the questions you could ask. “I think you two do well together on the ice, so there’s no reason to split you up.”

Sirius tucked his knees up beneath the covers and shoved an arm under his pillow. “I don’t want to play hockey forever if James isn’t there.”

Pascal sat on the edge of the desk and crossed his arms across his chest. It had been nearly twenty years since he last checked his blindspot on the ice. There was no need—not while Sergei was there. They had talked about the end, of course, and the after. It went unspoken that they’d probably leave together. Too many jokes about PTA duels would be wasted if they didn’t.

How many nights had they dragged each other home, stumbling and giggling? They had walked nearly four miles the night they won the Cup in Colorado, those glorious quiet hours between being shooed home and when the taxis would answer their phones. Pascal couldn’t recall the last time he had fallen over the welcome mat with Sergei on his heels, instead of being the one holding the door open.

“Sirius?”

“Mhmm.”

“James will stay with you.” There was nobody Pascal would rather have at Sirius’ back, when he thought about it. Not even himself. “If you decide you want to play hockey forever, he will be the first person to sign up with you.”

“You’re not—” A yawn interrupted him, wide enough to make him scrunch his face. “—upset that we were loud?”

“Non. Promise.”

“Merci.” The sheets twisted in Sirius’ fist as he brought them close to his body. His mere twenty years made him look small without a frown and a ‘C’.

“Bonne nuit, mon fils.”

An incoherent mumble was all the answer he received, and more than he expected. He turned the lamp off with a gentle click, leaving Sirius to sink into heavy, even breaths.

New Message To: Vans

Pots and Black home safe

Lunch tomorrow @ usual. Kids included.

I’m buying. No protests.

New Message From: Vans

?

Why are you awake

New Message To: Vans

Lunch. Usual. Kids included.

If you bring your wallet I will kick your ass.

New Message From: Vans

Vans laughed at your message

:thumbs-up_emoji:

Can’t wait.

[cannebady]

not attached to any person, place, or thing

NSFW Stolitz content below the cut!

AO3

The real fuck of it all, Blitz thinks, staring at his own shitty, leaking ceiling, some bullshit from Voxflix the only thing lighting the room up aside from the red light floating in from the window, is that he hates this thing with Stolas as much as he loves it.

The way that being a royal's fucking plaything grates on the dwindling remains of his pride, the way that being a means-to-an-end (favors for favors, that's all it was, nothing else) makes him feel like he'll never really get to the point in his life where he's valuable for being him instead of being something.

It feels like being used for convenience; not that he isn't doing the same thing to Stolas for the fucking book, but it's been different for him for a while, though he'd rather eat a bowl of angelic bullets swimming in holy water than admit it outside of his own head. Thinking about that just kind of reminds him that he is a piece of shit by nature and prone to even piecier and shittier tendencies when his fucking dick, or heart, or fuck forbid both get involved, so who is he to think he deserves something fucking else?

It's easy to think of the parts he hates if he wants to stay angry. It's easier to be angry. Because the other piece? Oof, that's where the real bullshittery begins.

Because there's another list, folded up deep and kept close to this chest, of the things he cannot fucking lose about this (it could, maybe, be called "The Big Fuck Off List of What I Love About This" but that word scares the shit out of him and fuck you for thinking he has to say it anyway), and thinking about that list makes him feel both the dick and heart things previously discussed.

Because he loves Stolas's fucking laugh. It's nearly a giggle sometimes and when he isn't trying to be a princely Goetia, he can really get himself going, sometimes in response to Blitz's jokes (and ohh fucking shit does that do dick stuff to him), and Blitz has to act annoyed and imposed upon when all he feels is lighter than he ever has, maybe, in his entire worthless life.

On the same note, he loves those stupid bird noises. Stolas will squawk, chatter, hoot, trill, and another sounds like whistles and barks that he only knows because he took the time to fucking look it up. In the full moon cycles when he was less focused on toys and dominance, he'd sometimes experiment to see how to draw out certain noises over others. He's made a study of it and he keeps track of every single little noise he earns. There's one among them that stands out, and it's the little hoot Stolas lets out when he's asleep, completely passed out because Blitz fucked him so good he literally couldn't be conscious anymore. While certainly earned with dick stuff, this one's all heart for Blitz. He can't even deny it to himself anymore.

Because Stolas is the kind of dad he wishes he was. He tries for Loona, he does, and he thinks maybe she knows that. Sometimes. But Stolas gives Via everything and Blitz admires him for it.

One time when the full moon had left them both exhausted between rounds, he'd asked Stolas about his daughter to fill the space and Stolas had lit up like an actual light source. It was beautiful to watch and the first time that Blitz's heart skipped a beat when they weren't touching. Then, as if to fuck him up worse, he'd asked about Loona and never qualified "daughter" with "adopted" and, when Blitz admitted how afraid he was to have Loona help on missions, responded with, "It's a father's prerogative to worry, I think. Surely you'd agree?" like the fact that he was Loona's dad was just a fact, and like they had the shared experience of parenting, and it was balm to an open wound that Blitz did his best to ignore having. He promptly distracted Stolas with his entire tongue, and if he made sure to make it a whopper of an orgasm for the bird it's just because he got off on that too. Nothing else.

He's heard the term sexually compatible before, but he definitely didn't understand it until they started fucking. Sure he needs to keep a tight leash on Stolas's beak because he's liable to unleash a torrent of unhinged horny drivel straight out of worst porn ever made in Hell if given a half an opportunity, but other than that? Blitz has never had a partner that gave him a run for his money in terms of stamina, variety, or intensity until this and oh cursed fuck is it good.

To put it plainly, the sex fucks. He may grumble about the full moon shit, and it does hurt something special that it isn't real something else, but when he has a decent day, and his blood is running high, and he gets to end it by scaling the wall of the palace to give Stolas a proper dicking down, it makes something like lightning spark beneath his skin and he feels like he's on top of the fucking world. Those nights are the hardest because it's 100% in the dick column of the issue, but the longer it goes on and the more Stolas keeps cheese and hot sauce stocked for him, and the more he offers a bubble bath because "You must be exhausted Blitzy, you worked all day, let's relax a while", the more it's starting to become a heart issue too which is approximately, precisely, where Blitz will typically fuck things up irreparably.

Last night they'd been nearing the end of their fourth round, both covered in sweat and come and probably Stolas's fancy as fuck rich guy feather oil (it's called preening oil, which he knows because he learned how to do it because aftercare and fuck you, also it smells like smoke and whiskey and some kind of fucking flowers and it's just a good smell, okay? Ugh, fuck you). Stolas was soaking wet, the feathers around his hole sticky and dark and plastered to him, but blood hot and tighter than sin inside (fucking how) and Blitz was somehow still harder than he'd nearly ever been because of bird noises, and sex noises, and the feeling of Stolas repeatedly losing his entire fucking vocabulary just because of his hands, and tongue, and dick, and suddenly he knew he was going to come in seconds flat.

He pinned Stolas's arms as well as he could with just his hands, looked into his eyes, and demanded "Come, now", and he didn't really expect it to work outside of shitty porn, but Stolas's eyes, all fucking four of them, went wide and brilliant, and he whimpered, "Yes, Blitz" (not Blitzy, not my little imp, not plaything, but his fucking name) and promptly came squeezing Blitz's dick so hard he thought it might come off, but he couldn't even care about that because he was coming, being milked fucking dry, and only biting back, "Fuck, I love you, fucking perfect, stupid, pretty bird" by rearing back and digging his fangs into the inside of Stolas's thigh.

They've done much kinkier shit, this was nearly vanilla, but it fucked Blitz all the way up.

So now he's laying on his couch in true sad bastard fashion, horny and depressed (thank fuck Loona is out for the evening), hand around himself as he remembers the good, the bad, the ugly, the heart, and the dick of it all, hard, leaking, and desperate even for his own touch as he replays on loop making demon royalty come on fucking command. It only takes a few mental loops before he's, somewhat shamefully, spilling over his own fist in a poor imitation of the previous evening, the act barely scratching the surface of what he wants.

And maybe, the real fuck of it all, if he strips away his lists and performative complaining, his problems, both dick- and heart-related, is that the only thing he doesn't hate about this bullshit with Stolas is Stolas himself. And isn't that just the worst case fucking scenario?

[evitamylove]

Cove, MK1 Edition

Announcer comment ideas:

Kung Lao:

-"Yeah, still my favorite."

-"Hi pretty boy."

-"The one....for me~"

-"Calling you a petname would give you too much of an ego boost."

-"Hung Lao."

-"You don't remember." (sad tone)

-"In every reality." (said very softly)

-"I really did miss you."

-"Hi, love."

-"My Chosen One.''

Raiden:

-"Still don't know how to feel about you."

-"Kidd Thunder!"

-"I'm loyal to Kung Lao, I swear." (if hes wearing cosmetics with tattoos.)

-"Okay, I'm warming up to you."

-"I'd let him electrocute me to death." (only in specific cosmetics)

-"You don't remember either."

-"Pikachu, I choose you!"

Liu Kang:

-"Can I be the dragon?"

-"Woof."

-"I miss our Raiden."

-"Where the hell did you put Fujin?"

-"You're cute sometimes."

-"Your fanfiction is the worst."

-"God of Massive Doofuses."

-"Look at this dork."

-"I miss your fuckass bob."

-"Glow up."

-"Daddy."

-"One day..."

-"Bruce Lee."

-"Wa-chaaww!!"

-"The white hair looked better."

-"I can take him, just not in a fight."

Johnny:

-"He's hot as shit."

-"I'd be front row at a concert tryna get his towel."

-"He's hot when he isn't talking."

-"Jean van goddamn."

-"Never change, sweetheart."

-*"Ripleeyyy!"*

-"At least you age well."

Sub-Zero:

-"What a noob."

-"Daddy issues."

-"Why are you so goddamn mean?"

-"Bi-Handsome."

-"Why are your biceps the size of my head?"

-"Wish the mask was a gag."

Scorpion:

-"Hey, hot stuff."

-"Burnin' up~"

-"Is it hot in here or is it just you?"

-"I'd lick the mask."

-"Both at the same time."

-"Get over here! No please, cmere."

Smoke:

-"You are actually the perfect man."

-"Nobody's allowed to be mean to you."

-"Beat the shit out of them."

-"Hi sweetheart~"

-"The actual favorite. Sorry Kung Lao."

-"You did Madame Bo dirty."

-"Nerd."

Kenshi:

-"Love at first sight."

-"I wanna see the rest of the tattoos."

-"How far do your tattoos go down?"

-"Pretty as fuck."

-"Yowza."

-"My type."

-"Yaku-zaddy."

Baraka:

-"Mommy's other favorite!"

-"I'd lick the blood off his teeth."

-"You didn't hear that."

-"Deserved better."

Kitana:

-"I love you."

-"Hot."

-"I would thank her for beating the shit out of me."

Sindel:

-"Mommy? Sorry. Mommy? Sorry."

-"I have such bad mommy issues."

-"How come her evil version gets to play with Raiden and I don't?"

Mileena:

-"Literal perfection in Edenian form."

-"I'm in love with you."

-"Empress Mileena~"

-"Gordon Ramsey."

-"Final Fantasy X."

-"Before I die I'm tryna f-"

Nitara:

-"You look like Megan Fox."

-"Jennifer's body bag."

-"Twilight, gore edition."

-"C-Bat."

-"The Little Vampire."

-"She'd be a terrible babysitter."

-"Hey Selene."

-"The vampire movie jokes are getting old."

-"Dead but pretty."

Reptile:

-"I can only manage unholy comments about you."

-"What that tongue do?"

-"The best glow up by far."

-"Both forms."

-"Lizard form can get it."

-"Syzoth."

Ashrah:

-"Do you need a dog? *actually barks*"

-"Twilight Princess."

-"So jealous of both you and Syzoth."

Sonya Blade:

-"Mommy's back."

-"God I missed you."

-"Beat their ass, Blade."

Sektor:

-"The ketchup and mustard joke is funny."

-"Nuts."

Cyrax:

-"Bolts."

-"I'm into robots too."

-"Bot locs go hard."

Khameleon:

-"Like me!"

-"We could be siblings."

-"I can't flirt with you after saying we'd be siblings."

-"F.A.B." (spelled out, means fuck ass bob)

-"Gender? Never knew her."

Stryker:

-"Really?"

-"*makes pig noises*"

-"Love a man in uniform."

-"No idea who this was initially."

Shao Kahn:

-"Yeah. I could climb it."

-"He can get it."

-"Pretty bitch says what?"

-"My type."

-"Big."

-"Now that's a man that could ride."

-"Yeah.......*yeah"* (said in a very blatantly horny tone)

-"Kotal looked cooler."

-"Horny!"

-"Hey handlebars~"

Shang Tsung:

-"Bundle of sticks!"

-"You're so lucky you're drop dead gorgeous."

-"Redemption arc."

-"The bitch."

-"Toxic by Britney Spears."

-"He's back?"

-"No."

-"Okay maybe-"

-"Asshole says what?"

-"Mortal Kombaaatttt dodododododo-"

Havik:

-"I'm into it."

-"Final Destination."

-"He's the coolest Kombatant."

-"Khaos incarnate."

-"Resident Evil."

Motaro:

-"I'm a Sagittarius!"

-"Oh he's not a centaur?"

-"What are you?"

-"Liu Kang was so right to bring you back."

-"Fuck with the bull, get the horns."

Shujinko:

-"Deadass thought you were Shang Tsung."

-"No seriously are you and Shang Tsung related?"

-"Shu-plinko?"

-"Pachinko."

-"Shu-what? Who are you?"

Geras:

-"Yes!"

-"The literal best."

-"Dad AND daddy vibes."

-"The coolest."

-"Guardian of Time."

-"Timestopper."

Li Mei:

-"I had no clue who you were at first."

-"One and done."

-"Li Mei I take your hand in marriage?"

-"She deserved better."

Tanya:

-"You and Mileena are perfect."

-"Wife material."

-"So happy you're back."

Quan Chi:

-"Another redemption arc?"

-"I still don't forgive you."

-"Quan Chi-huahua."

Ermac:

-"I'm so fucking glad you're back."

-"JERROD?!"

-"We are Legion."

-"We are many, you are one." (said in a mocking tone)

Jax Briggs:

-"Nice."

-"The best."

-"Only you, Jax."

-"Captain~"

Frost:

-"Ooohhh that's chilly!"

-"Titsicles."

-"Ice to see you."

-"Let it go."

Homelander:

-"Why are you here?"

-"Okay, you're kinda cool."

Omniman: (she can't stand him)

-"Omni-boy."

-"God, you're annoying."

-"Invincible, yeah right."

-"D'vorah's cooler."

-"Kal-el."

-"Clark Kent."

-"I bet people make edits of you beating the shit of me cause I like to insult you."

Reiko:

-"Reiko's Island."

-"Who're you again?"

-"Dork."

-"Shao's lapdog."

Cove:

-"Hey that's me!"

-"You coulda just played Shang Tsung or Shujinko."

-"Best choice."

-"I'm hotter than you."

-"You picked THAT outfit?"

-"The coolest bitch here."

-"Candle Cove."

-"No, not Pirate's Cove."

-"Please pick Kung Lao for the Kameo."

-"Changeling."

-"Fae fire fantasy."

-"I can steal your name AND your face."

-"Cooler than Shang Tsung."

-"Big balls!"

-"Bigger tits."

[shebeafancyflapjack]

The Sacrifice

Quick mini fic inspired by @idiotwithanipad 's HS artwork of her oc Amy and Humphrey's body, ft my oc Silver.

-

Silver had been drawing sygils with her finger on the door of Room 8 when she'd heard the noise. Focusing her intent being channelled into her digit and then released by visualising a black, sparkling ink leaving the tip of her nail, she called to her gods to enchant the door to ward off that Reform MP prick from returning here again.

The sudden rumbling of chunky boots on the floor nearly ruins her hard work as she struggles to keep her finger straight.

"Hey! Trying to focus on protecting the house from bigots here! Let a witch work!" She barks with irriation before turning to see what wildebeest decided to charge down the hall.

Her tone instantly softens at the sight of her friend and she's no longer bothered at the thought of starting from scratch.

Amy was nearly tripping over her boots as she turned the corner, short breathed and sweat glistening on her forehead.

"Ooh, what's happening? Is Robin chasing us again?!" Asked Silver, already bouncing on her toes.

Amy shook her head, pausing briefly before doing a double take to check behind her.

"No...Not....Robin...." She leant forward to catch her breath, "Humphrey. Body."

"Really?" The witch's surprise came from that whenever they 'played' with Humphrey's body there was little running involved compared to the caveman with a bloodhound nose. It was much easier to hide from the body, given no sense of smell or sight or sound. It was more of a hide and seek, wait till he feels you out, sort of play.

"Yes, really! I dunno what's got into it...him, I mean, but he's like feral, dude! He must be learning how to feel vibrations when I walk or something, he won't let up! I was in the kitchen, ran all the way to the lake, and he still caught up to me!"

"Holy Hera. And what does he want?"

"A hug."

Silver blinked.

"Oh no. The horror. We should totally call the ghost police." She replied in the flattest tone she could.

"It's not funny, Silv!"

"Kinda is." She was struggling to keep in a chuckle; "You're running for your life from your dad giving you a cuddle. Like a two year old. It's adorable."

"Shut up."

Now she laughed. It was only the assurance she knew that she was only one of a rare few people who could get away with winding Amy up without her exploding into a foul mouthed rage that kept her going.

But there was something off, that much Silver could see. The way Amy kept checking over her shoulder and awkwardly padding at her hoodie made it seem like there was a pinch of fear there.

"If you want him to stop, just let him hug you! It's not rocket surgery."

"I know that but....Rocket surgery? What you-?" Amy shook her head, "I can't let him hug me, all right!"

"Why not?"

Amy only had to throw her a look, her right hand rubbing close beneath her armpit.

The witch's mouth formed an 'O'.

"HS?"

"Yep."

"Massive flare up?"

"Yep."

"Humphrey's body has no ears so he can't hear you explain why you don't want cuddles?"

"Got it."

Silver nodded. It was all coming together, just as another pair of footsteps began to beat their way, unsteady, up the staircase.

"Shit, he's coming!" Amy gritted her teeth.

"Okay, chill. I got a plan. Humphrey's head is down at the tennis court with Julian and Captain. Don't get mad - he volunteered." Silver explained; "Maybe if you reach him then he can try to get his body to calm down or you and the boys can try to put him back together. Better than just running."

"That's if I can get there before he squishes me!" Amy grizzles.

"Well that's part two of the plan, gotta do part one first."

"Which is?"

"Trust me. You don't be a devotee of the Goddess Artemis without learning a few tricks about a hunt." She boasted.

A fumble came from down the hall as the Tudor's body came to the top.

Silver stood behind Amy and - carefully - held her arms.

"I got her! She's right here! C'mon Mr Amy's Dad's Body, nice lovely father-daughter cuddle right here!" She called out, tapping her foot and hoping he could feel the tremple.

"Silver! What the shit?!"

Two arms cloaked in red stretched their way forward like Frankenstein's monster towards the two girls.

Silver kept Amy from dodging away.

"Like I said trust me. Just a little closer and..." She waited until Humphrey's body's hands were six feet from grabbing Amy's head; "Switch!"

In a single fluid motion, Silver twirled Amy to behind her where she was stood and moved in front.

Almost immediately she was swallowed up into the arms of the Tudor who at first only felt a short, skinny, female form. Daughter Shaped. Silver was surprised by the strength of the headless being as it crushed her to his front, nearly lifting her off her feet, convinced for a brief moment that it had finally found its prey.

"What the..." Amy whispered.

"I bought you several seconds maybe until he figures out it's not you, now go!" Silver encouraged, her words slightly muffled by thick red cloth against her mouth.

An amused and grateful smile stretched across Amy's face.

"I owe you one, you fucking goddess!" She laughed before running for her life; "Next time tell me about the plan to use me as bait before hand! Thanks!"

"No proble- Oof!" Silver was silenced as the arms held her even tighter, hands feeling over her shirt, probably trying to figure out why "Amy's" hoodie felt so different and her hair shorter.

The body had a big heart but clearly little brain. Silver endured the crushing bear hug, the likes of which she hadn't had as intense since before her second mum had moved on.

Relaxing a little, she thought to herself that it wasn't actually too bad.

[crispy-bonnie]

Stay Down - SOKOL X READER

i came up with something angsty when i heard one of sokol's voice lines , so have some tear fuel for ya because i like writing angst i also had to write the lines by memory because i couldn't find the specific lines for when you're being helped up , so these mines are most likely not in the game , or are loosely based off of them this is a seemingly rushed one ? idk i just wanted to get my idea down before i explode lmao

2 medic bags.

4 charges.

12 times you can get back up before it's over for you.

At this point however, you didn't want to get back up. With every time they would jab that life-saving needle into you, it became even more rigorous as their words stung you like alcohol on a fresh wound. The guilt of knowing the resources they were wasting just to make sure you stayed in the fight was starting to take a toll, more so than the bullets that kept you to your knees in the first place.

"Man, you're really giving me a fuckin' headache!"

"Please don't do that again."

"C'mon, get your shit together, [H/N]!"

At first, you didn't think anything of it, but after a while, you couldn't help but think you were a burden on their backs. It still didn't stop you...except for when you heard his words.

He always managed to make your heart flutter, no matter how harsh he was. The way his words rolled off his tongue, the way his slicked back hair framed his face, the way he could take so many beatings but still stay standing. He was just perfect. You couldn't help yourself.

Those words that he said to you. It made your heart shatter. Did he find you to be that much of an annoyance? Was all the time you spent with him for nothing? Maybe it was.

"Listen, next time you get downed, do us a favor and stay down!"

Your vision had gone blurry, your head was fuzzy but not because of the massive amounts of noise around you. No. The only thing that you had echoing into your ears was his request. You've never felt so...disgusting.

As you watched the rest of the crew rush off to collect loot, you just stood there, dumbfounded. Even the cops nearby you were confused by your idle standing, so much to the point where they even stopped firing at you. You were just staring, watching as he ran into what seemed to be a vault that was miles away even though it was only a few meters away.

You were snapped out of your thoughts when you felt a heavy boot come into harsh contact with you and knock you flat on your face. As the beatings of the cop adorned in black started to numb your body, you felt tears starting to stream down your cheeks as a wretched ringing noise started to fill your ears and drowing out the noise of your teammates calling out your name.

"[H/N!] C'mon stay with me-!"

You recognized that all too familiar Russian accent, but you still couldn't stop thinking about what he had said before. With that being the one thing on your mind, you could barely mutter a response as your eyelids started to drop whilst you succumbed to the pain.

--

"Sokol. Please follow." Jacket communicated with the clicks of his tape recorder, but Sokol just shot him a glare, a much fiercer one compared to the ones he would usually shoot at people.

"нет! I CANNOT LOSE [H/N]!" Sokol barked before he returned his attention to you, his gaze now soft as he whispered to you. "[H/N], listen to voice. Останься со мной, stay with me."

There was so much gunfire, he could barely hear you with the chaos around him, but he still managed to pick up the weak sound of your voice as he leaned closer to your drained form.

"Просто иди, Сокол." ["Just go, Sokol."]

Sokol could feel the waterworks starting as he processed what you had said. Not only because you were trying to tell him to leave you behind, but the fact that you had said it in Russian. He didn't know you could speak his language, but how? And of all the moments, why now? Eventually, he snapped out of his thoughts when you spoke again:

"Пощадите себя и ресурсы. Иди, любовь моя." ["Spare yourself and the resources. Go, my love."]

He could barely think now. There was so much going through Sokol's head, so much to the point where everything started to blur before him. Not even his own screams to try whilst he thrashed against the grip of his two fellow heisters could he hear, the sight of what seemed to be a lifeless you now starting to fade as he continued getting further away.

Every heist, all the times he had bled out and desperately called for help. Now he wishes that he just would have stayed down.

[finaldisorder]

💚 —————

Waiting, waiting, waiting. That's all he's been doing for the Devil knows how long - and wouldn't you know it, he probably does! There's so much evil in this house, Fred can taste it. It seeps into the wood and into his pores, it makes him sick and claustrophobic more than the wooden chest ever has, but he's determined.

Nobody beats Drop Dead Fred at hide-and-seek!

Even if this is the longest game he has ever played, the figment was nothing if not a sore loser. He'd hide for the rest of his life if that's what it took to win ... even though a little part of him was starting to suspect that maybe he was tucked away on purpose. Just maybe he had been unwanted by someone ( cough cough, the MEGABEAST cough ), but LeeLee would save him, right? Would find him?

He used a saying often; Speak of the Devil and he shall come. And although he hadn't meant it literally, and maybe every little pore of this house oozes evil and darkness, Fred had always meant it in play. They spoke about the Megabeast, she would show her mug moments after. Fred thought about Lee, she would walk through the door a moment later.

Fred thinks about Lee now, and he can hear the click and grind of the key in the box. He buzzes with excitement, muscles taut, his body like a spring - and the second the lid opens, he launches forward, up, and out.

Maybe with a tad too much force, as he immediately launches himself straight into the far wall, small body bouncing, rolling, knocking shit off her desk, foot getting tangled in the blankets of her bed as he zips by, and the only thing to stop him is the faceplant on the floorboards to follow. He breathes a moment, barking out a loud laugh before popping out of existence in a cloud of sparkle--

-- only to reappear in front of Lee, hands brushing off the dust and cobwebs of his loud green suit. One hand lifts to ruffle through his hair, eyes rolling theatrically. "Oh my GOD, you SUCK at hide-and-seek, Snotrag! I've been in there for a million, trillion years!"

Fred reaches to shove at her shoulder but he stops, comedically staring at her, jaw slack, eyes wide - he makes a gagging noise and turns his head away, body jerking in melodrama and bending at the waist as though he were about to up-chuck all over her room.

"Eww, ew. What happened to you!? You're all grown up! You're uglier!" A pause, he tilts his head to give her an appreciative once-over; maybe a smirk plays at the edge of his mouth, one brow raised and voice lilting into something more charming and sultry- "Blimey, you're all grown up."

Nope, ew. Not the time, place, nor person! Perversion aside, he straightens himself up again, both hands reaching for her shoulders to shake her as if she's made some horrible mistake and he's trying to shake the sense into her. "Ew, you're like, a woman now! Why would you go and do that? You're dis-gus-ting!"

｡° ⸻ @finaldisorder.

Lee couldn't remember the last time she ever enjoyed being at Momma's. Maybe at some point in her young life, there was something that kept her around, kept her at Momma's beck and call that wasn't just lies, but whatever it could've been, it was lost to Lee. She doesn't doubt that there had to be some sort of fondness for back then. She and Momma used to be real close, didn't they? Why else would she have stayed so long? Then again, why'd she leave?...   -She knew the answer to that one, and to why they weren't so close anymore.

She's having to step carefully around boxes and bins, piles of things here and there until she's back up to her little room at the top of the stairs. Just as Momma said...   everything was still there. Every little thing, unmoved and untouched. When she'd moved out, she never thought to take anything with her   ( couldn't bear to, and neither could Momma ).   Now she's wondering just what she'd left behind, wondered if maybe there was anything she could take now that Momma didn't seem to mind anymore. There's a bit of touching around her desk, around the drawings and paintings she'd spent hours scrawling away at the window's light. Some fond regard to the plush toys left behind, still in the same condition as when she slept beside them. Even her clothes in the closet were still neatly kept.

Lee feels herself pulled towards the end of her bed, like following a whisper through the woods, until she's knelt amongst some of her chests and trunks. She knew a few were full of old photographs   ( her camera was still on her desk, strap dangling off the edge ),   others with neat rocks and little knick knacks from throughout the years. One was bound to have old toys and things, and her eyes land on the largest trunk by her knees. Dark brown leather with antique clasps and a little keyhole -   a key of which she knows is still tucked underneath one of the boards on her bed. Lee reaches, plucking it from between the frame and the mattress, admiring it's vintage weight and shape. Maybe she'd keep this, too, string it on a ribbon and wear it when she got to get dolled up. A ghost of a smile and she gently slides the key into the hole, unlocking the trunk, and...

Opening it.

[angelplummie]

Okay so like for starterssssss, I love getting represented as a chubby gal 🥺🥺 so I love you for writing that last Oikawa imagineeeee 😩😩😩

Soooo, I was wondering if I could request a plus size reader that really likes Kuroo, (and he’s like a super cliché bad boy🤰🏽) but he’s too embarrassed to be seen with Y/n. So she starts to hit on his friend or try to make him jealous. (I want you to add your own little idea here! But likeee, make her a baddie 😘😘)

Thanks baby 😚

HE’S A SCUMBAG DON’T YOU KNOW

KUROO X CHUBBY F!READER

Angsty?? kinda, a pinch of suggestive stuff

masterlist

post girlboss was referring to

a/n:i decided to go for emo / anger issues / definitely has punched a hole in his wall kuroo, just cuz i love writing losers, and i love seeing grown men cry. reader is like 20/21 just like college age yk, kuroo is 23 as stated in fic. p.s where my artic monkey hoes at

warnings: swearing, mentions of sex n specific sexual acts, suggestive stuff, uhhh bad boy but he’s not a (bad boy) he’s just a (bad) (boy) he’s just no good, like no fr never date guys like this, he may SEEM COOL and give you the dick but girl you will be so embarrassed once u realised u gave up the kitty for a man that genuinely believes tame impala and mac demarco are unheard of and calls himself an empath even though he’s mean to his mum every time she comes over to help with the laundry and has manipulated every girl he’s ever been in the vicinity of but i digress! on with the story!

“Kuroo-!” you yelped in surprised, bed bouncing beneath you. The second he had thrown you down, he ripped off his shirt and made a noise of frustration when he couldn’t shed his skinny jeans fast enough. Brows furrowed, he began hopping furiously to yank them off.

You laughed, much to his annoyance.

“You’re gonna hurt yourself if you keep up with that. What’s the rush?”

He sighed, and carefully pulled them off his ankles. Standing up straight, he seemed to have composed himself, with that cocky smirk on his rugged face. Your eyes trailed down his lean, long body. It was all you could do not to scream, he was so gorgeous. He took a few sweeping steps to where you lay, and got right on top of you, hands either side of your head. His eyes bore into you, it made you squirm internally, not that you would ever admit it.

“Just want you so bad, kitten.”

You barked out a laugh as if your heart didn’t jolt at his stupid pet name. It was such a stupid name, but coming from him it made you melt. Again, not like you’d ever admit it.

“Ew, Tetsu don’t call me kitten, it’s cr-“

He cut you off by leaning down and kissing you, you could feel his snake bites against your bottom lip. He groaned softly, shoving his tongue down your throat. He tasted like his sour apple vape, and his hair was soft when you ran your fingers through it. You could barely contain your butterflies, eyes squeezed closed.

“Come on babe, you know you like it.”

No matter how many times you and Kuroo hung out, it always felt so fresh. Maybe it was because he was exciting, or because he was a little bit wild, you didn’t know.

He leaned down closer to you, getting on his elbows, deepening the kiss. He pulled away and smirked at your breathlessness. With a slender, ring adorned hand, he reached beneath your top and cupped your tits over your bra. He gave them a sharp squeeze and started placing chaste kisses on your neck. He was considerate like that, didn’t leave hickeys because he knew they’d be hard to cover for you. He groaned as he jiggled the fat of your boobs in his hands,

“God, you have the nicest tits, babe.”

You had been dating for nearly 3 months now, if that was what it was. To be honest, you weren’t really sure what you were. You hang out all the time at his or your place, there was rarely a time when you didn’t have an ache between your legs, one way or another. He didn’t really take you on ‘dates’ but chatting to him was fun in itself, you didn’t need to go out to do that. He didn’t necessarily say romantic stuff either... but he didn’t not say romantic stuff either? He beat up your ex at a party one time! That had to mean something right? He exactly wouldn’t tell you how he felt but he showed you, kissing your cheek or tilting your chin up to look at him or kissing your neck or feeling you up. But that usually led to sex, so you couldn’t be certain. It wasn’t like you only screwed though, you watched your favourite movies together... although the last couple times he just started fingering you. You showed him your playlists? No no, he showed you his playlists, his sex playlists. There seemed to be a common theme here. But... there were times, afterwards, when he would pull in you so tight, tell you how good you were for him, how well you did, how pretty you looked. Any doubts you had were gone after a few hushed words on his tobacco reeking rickety old bed. You’d never really had a relationship like this before, but you assumed it was just because Kuroo was so chill. You were probably boyfriend and girlfriend, he just didn’t feel the need to announce it, he was laidback like that. So what if you guys had a lot of sex? Weren’t you a new couple? Wasn’t this just the honeymoon stage were you can’t get your hands off each other? You didn’t want to seem high maintenance and nag, so you let it be. He was sweet enough to you, right now everything was good.

Until it wasn’t.

A clatter sounded downstairs, the door slamming open against the hallway wall.

“Kuroo! Hey man, I brought some California!”, a voice called from bellow.

Kuroo broke away immediately, spit trailing from your neck to his pink lips.

“Shit, shit, shit, shit,” Kuroo mumbled, pushing off the bed and scrambling the pick up his discarded clothes and shove them back on.

You sat up, disgruntled, rearranging your bra strap from were he’d kneaded at it.

“What’s wrong? Who is that?”

He shot you a glance before continuing to yank back on his jeans.

“Uh, so change of plan, I can’t do tonight. I need you to go home. Discreetly.”

What?

“What? Tetsu, I’m already here,” you scoffed.

What was going on?

Why was he acting like this?

You had never seen him so... frantic.

“I know babe, and I’m really sorry about that, but my friends are here early than I said.”

“So? Can’t I meet your friends?”

He didn’t reply for a moment, just let out an exasperated breath, zipping up his fly.

“Well, yeah you can meet them, just not with me. I don’t want them knowing that I-“

He cut himself off, but you had heard enough to understand.

There was a beat of silence, only disturbed by Kuroo’s friends calling for him.

Your mouth hung open, and you scoffed in shock.

You shouldn’t be surprised really. It’s so obvious now that you think about it. So that’s what this was. That explains everything. He didn’t really like you, he was just using you. That’s why he didn’t take you anywhere, or why he didn’t show you he cared. It was because he didn’t. He wasn’t “afraid of getting close to people” or “emotionally distant”, he was just upfront about not giving two shits about you aside from your vagina. I guess he didn’t want his friends to know he was furiously screwing a fat girl any chance he got. He was embarrassed of you. You were something to be ashamed of. Your stomach jerked as you got to your feet. You were pissed, but that didn’t mean it didn’t really hurt. You had liked him. A lot.

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”

You could see the panic in his eyes, it was quite funny actually. Of course you new what it meant, but it still made you feel a little better to watch his eyes widen like that, to hold a shred of power over him.

“I mean- well I didn’t- come on babe you know I didn’t mean it like that-“ he laughed nervously, not noticing the footsteps in the landing. You rolled your eyes. You may have been naive, but you certainly weren’t going to fall for his shit again. Whatever he spouted.

“Don’t give me that bullshit. Just say it, your embarrassed of me.”

“Y/N, please, don’t you think-“

Two men burst through the door, one with spiked grey hair and one with fluffy black hair.

“Kuroo! What the hell are you doing up here we’ve been-“ the grey haired one, stopped when his eyes went from a shirtless Kuroo to you.

Your eyes flickered to Kuroo, he looked mortified.

“Ah. I see. Well, Akaashi, we better give these two some time, we can just-“

“Oh no, I was just leaving,” you grabbed your jacket from on top of his chest of drawers and turned back to the two men, putting on a big smile, adrenaline and fury spurring you on.

“I’m Y/N, by the way.”

Your eyes shot to Kuroo, who looking like get was about to shit himself.

“You probably haven’t heard of me, me and Kuroo have actually been having sex for three months. He kept it a secret because he’s embarrassed of me. We should hang out soon though!”

“Y/N-!” Kuroo yelled, exasperation clear in his tone, but you were already descending the stairs.

He came into the hall, hands rubbing his temples.

“Y/N just come talk for a second, I can-“

But he was cut off by the door slamming.

You got in your car parked outside and sped away.

The whir of the engine and the monotony of the roads cleared your mind a bit, a mist of anger still remaining.

You can’t believe you let yourself be tricked. you were a fully grown woman, but you had been reeled in hook, line and sinker. Not only had you been reeled in, you have been reeled in by a man that still had tik tok LED lights in his room and a fucking monster can collection at the age of 24 fucking years old. The more you thought about him, the more you realised how much of an emo loser he was. Of course you were still hurting, but it was more of the angry hurt you feel when it turns out your crush is homophobic or something (been there done that, don’t ask). He was a waste of oxygen, you had decided by the time you made it back to your apartment. A waste of perfectly good space that could most definitely not get the kitty anymore. You got inside your house, pulled on some comfies and got on facetime with your friends.You told them all about what happened, and they passionately bitched about him with you, confirming your suspicion that they never liked him in the first place. They also told you to forget about his existence, he wasn’t worth a slither of your brain power, he was dirt compared to you. All in all, you felt marginally better, saying goodbye to your friends while they still giggled about how stupid Kuroo’s hair was.

This was just a speed bump, you thought as you tucked yourself into bed, you would get over this.

Fast.

“Who’s Bokuto been talking to all night?” Yamamoto leaned over to ask Lev, shouting over the blaring music.

It was a week after you had thrown Kuroo to the curb, and he was out with a couple of volleyball friends, some from Nekoma, but there was also Bokuto with them.

“I’m not sure. I think it’s Y/N something? She’s in class. She’s pretty chill.”

Kuroo’s ears perked up, and he turned around to face his friends up against the bar.

“Bokuto’s talking to who?” he said through gritted teeth.

“Y/N. She goes to my-“

“I know who Y/N is,” kuroo snapped, taking a swig of the beer in his hand and scanning the dance floor for either one of you. He found bokuto first, shoulder against the wall, holding a drink as he leant down to have you whisper something in his ear. That’s when Kuroo paid attention to you. You looked... you looked gorgeous. He felt jealousy creep up inside him. How many times had you been out looking like that since you broke things off? How many guys had you slept with since? How dare Bokuto chat you up when he knew you two had been a thing? Wasn’t he meant to be Kuroo’s friend? As Kuroo wound himself up, you and bokuto continued your extremely pleasant conversation.

“I just wanna say, sorry about Kuroo. He’s a real bonehead, but we’ve been friends since high school so I can’t ditch him.”

You snorted into your cocktail.

“What?”

“Bonehead?”

He frowned and straightened up indignantly.

“Yeah, and? What’s wrong with bonehead?”

“No no, nothing, it’s just very Legally Blonde.”

He beamed down at you.

“I love Legally Blonde!”

“You do? Me too!”

This big beefy man was very cute, you had been talking for nearly three hours now, but you never ran out of things to say. And, aside from the obligatory introduction compliments, he had not made any move to try and get you into a wendy’s bathroom as quick as possible, which you couldn’t say of yours and kuroo’s first meeting.

He had dreamy eyes, you noted as he smiled for the nth time that night.

“Whose your favourite-?”

“What the fuck are you doing man?”

You glanced scathingly over to the familiar face of your old fling.

“What?” Bokuto asked back, clearly done with his friends bad boy shtick.

“Why are you talking to her when... when you know?”

“What’s there to know? I’m talking to her because I want to, and she wants to.”

He looked over to you for approval.

“Right?”

You nodded, a little nervous. You hated Kuroo’s guts, but you knew how weirdly possessive he was, you didn’t wanna cause trouble for Bokuto.

“See? Now I don’t think she wants to see you, right?”

He looked at you again. You nodded again.

“Ok? You guys are over, now are we done?”

Kuroo huffed. His eyes flitted from Bokuto to you, remembering you were there most likely, and he scowled.

“No, we aren’t done, what are you trying to pull anyway? Trying to piss me off by talking to someone I know? Are you really that petty? Well, your little plan is working, so just-just stop, ok?”

You felt like screaming. You had just come out here to have a nice time, not listen to Kuroo’s narcissistic whining.

“Can you just fuck off? Was I not clear enough or something? You’re dead to me, Kuroo. I’m just trying to have a nice night.”

Kuroo’s mouth gaped open. He had never been spoken to like that, never. He clenched his fists at his sides and his glare intensified.

“You’re lucky I gave you the time of day, fat ugly slut.”

He grabbed Bokuto’s shoulder roughly, turning him to face him completely.

“Hey man, thanks for clearing up my sloppy seconds, really good of you. Good to know I’ve got great friends like you.”

Those were the last things out of Kuroo’s mouth before bokuto landed a punch on his cheek, knocking him to the ground.

“You’re a fucking asshole man,” Bokuto grunted.

He stepped over where Kuroo lay, and held out a hand for you to step over too. You took it quietly and trailed along behind him to the door, fingers still locked. His hands were warm, and big. Kuroo’s face must hurt right now. The thought made you smile. He held the door open for you before sighing, resting his back against the wall. You stood in front of him, twiddling with your fingers.

“I am so sorry about that,” You apologised, embarrassed and shaken by the scene Kuroo had made, “I shouldn’t have wound him up, and I shouldn’t have talked to you after I knew you guys were friends, I promise I didn’t mean to start anything.”

“Don’t be, if anything I’m sorry for not making him leave right away. And either way,” he gently reached for your hand again, and you let him take it,”I’m glad you talked to me. I’d like it if you talked to me even more.”

DISCLAIMER FOR KUROO STANS!!!! I DONT THINK HIS HAIR IS STUPID!!! it’s just when ur bestie is going thru a break up or anything entailing a male you shit talk everything about him to high hell, doesn’t matter if he’s the most beautiful man you’ve ever seen. also i have no ill will towards kuroo nor any of the characters i write shit bag fan fics about i just like to complain any way i hope you enjoyed! reblogs and replies always appreciated!!!

[ares-the-strange]

Alone After Dark

Pairing: Poly!Lost Boys x GN!Trans Queer Reader

Warnings: F slur, T slur, transphobia, queerphobia, swearing, no violence

(A/N I’m writing this cause it happened to me today and I’m trying to make myself feel better :/)

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

The nighttime breeze had a chill to it, the noise of various animals chittering and rustling was the only thing breaking the silence. Usually you would be with the boys this late at night but they had warned you they’d be late tonight. So here you were, platform boots thumping against the pavement as you walked. The fierceness of the bitter air started to increase, causing you to curse to yourself about the choice in outfit. You knew it would be cold but decided to wear ripped pants and a crop top, convincing yourself that the fishnets would keep you warm. It didn’t help your situation that the boy’s cave was so far away from your house, again cursing yourself for not doing your driver’s tests earlier. 

Footsteps. You had only just realised that there were footsteps behind you. The hair on the back of your neck stood up. The place you lived wasn’t a rough place or anything, in fact it was filled with snobby white people. People who didn’t take too kindly to queer people. Especially not you, you were their worst nightmare, not only were you queer, you were trans, goth, AND poly. Basically you were screwed. Maybe they would be cool and leave you alone, you tried to reason, but the approaching sound of barking shattered that hope. 

Quickening your stride, you tried to get to the cave as fast as possible but it was crucial that you didn’t let them know how scared you were. 

“Hey emo! What are you doing out so late huh?” One of them shouted, trying to ignore them. You just kept walking. 

“Ey tranny, he’s talking to you!” You felt a hand on your arm, yeah you couldn’t just ignore this one. Turning on your heel, you faced them, it was as you expected. Four teen boys and two girls. The boys sported the eshay uniform of terrible mullet, board shorts, black hoodie and joggers. The girls were the stereotypical ‘pick me’ type. If you weren’t so scared you might’ve found humour in the irony of the fact the people who harassed you always looked the same. 

“What?” You responded, doing your best to sound unbothered, there was a dangerous glint in one of the boys eyes that made you nervous

“We asked what you’re doing out so late” 

“I’m going to go meet my partners” that was a mistake. You should not have said plural. 

“Oh, partnerS huh? Can we join? I’d love to have an orgy with you, even if you look like a corpse” The smirk on their stupid faces grew wider at the disgusted grimance you gave

“What? You don’t want us? Would you prefer we beat the shit out of you?”

“I think we should, unless of course you want to take up our previous offer?” One of the girls giggled, obviously thinking this was hilarious, your confident act had begun to shatter as true fear set in. 

“Please just leave me alone” You spoke, it came out much more timid than you had meant it to

“And why should we do that? You should be grateful, who the fuck would want a freaky fucking fag like you anyways?” They had began to come uncomfortably close, tears threatening to prick your eyes, there were a lot of them, and what the fuck were you supposed to do? You were shorter than all of them and had no idea how to fight. 

“That would be us” A familiar voice answered the previous question, the tension in your shoulders almost immediately releasing. David walked up to your side, the other boys joining him on your other side. “It seems you have a problem with our lover?” There was a venomous undertone to his cocky words. 

“Yeah because they’re a fucking freak!” 

“It seems stupidity finds confidence in groups, isn’t that right boys?” David smirked, the condescending look in his eyes effortless as he stared down the group. The boys could easily see through their tough act, afterall vampires could smell fear. 

“Maybe we need to give ‘em a lesson?” Paul added, his arm around your shoulders with his head resting possessively on one of them.

“I think so” Marko’s smile was gleefully wide, taking great pleasure in the discomfort of these teens. David and Paul joined Marko as they stalked up to the group, Dwayne took Paul’s place besides you, his dark eyes soft as he gazed at you. Placing his arm around your waist he spoke “Are you okay little dove?” his voice was impossibly caring, taking note of the obvious signs you were highly stressed and shaken up. You only looked at him with your jaw clenched, knowing if you responded, you’d burst into tears. Dwayne understood this and pressed you a little more into his chest, his face pressed against yours, watching as the others dealt with the bigots. 

Screams made you jump into Dwayne slightly as the group took off running, completely abandoning both the bad boy act and each other. The boys cackled through fanged mouths, piercing eyes watching with delight as the others basically piss themselves upon seeing their monstrous faces. A kiss was pressed to your temple by Dwayne as David, Paul, and Marko approached. “Can we kill them later, doll?” Paul asked, almost certainly going to do it anyways but wanted your seal of approval. A small nod was all you managed, the furious desire to not begin sobbing still present. David made quick eye contact with Dwayne, communicating through looks he was assured you were physically unharmed. 

“I don’t want you to listen to a word they say, okay kitten? They have no idea what they’re talking about” David’s gloved hand gently cradled your chin, the sincerity in his eyes and tone doing its job to reassure you. 

“Yeah I know, it’s just…” 

“No buts baby, you’re perfect how you are, and we’ll always love you” Dwayne spoke up, rubbing his face against mine like a cat

“Yeah also you’re so much hotter than them so y’know” Marko smiled, as Paul wolf whistled to add to his point.

“C’mon doll, let’s go back to the cave and show you how much we love you” placing your cold hand in David’s gloved one, you walked with the boys back to homebase, feeling much much safer now.

[whumperooni]

l-lamb girls??? ahh, thats so heckin cute! uhmm Can we maybe have some more thoughts of cute lil lamb girls being diddled??? im a sucker for soft cute things bein stuffed and corrupted by some big bad villain! i feel like lamb girls would be similiar to bunny girls, but maybe a bit more timid and chaste? and oh god, the adorable lil bleats while being bred- i hbnnnnhh

You absolutely can have some more thoughts!!!!

I’m so happy that you all have taken to sweet lil lambgirls!!!!! I’ve gotten some good requests already and I’m ♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡ over them

ᏊㅇꈊㅇᏊ

Let’s do this!!!!!

tags/warnings: dubcon/noncon, breeding kink

“Well, well, well- look at what we have here.”

A squeak leaves the girl and Dabi grins as the cowering thing curls in on herself, as she presses against the dirty wall of the alleyway.

You’re an awfully cute little thing to be skulking around an alleyway late at night. What the hell are you doing out here with your little sundress and cardigan, your fearful eyes and trembling hands, your flicking...ears?

Dabi’s brow raises as he watches the fluffy things twitch. His hands reach out before he even thinks of it and he grabs onto your ears, pinches them between his bony fingers and makes you squeal and squirm.

“What are these, huh? They’re awfully cute, doll. Hey- what the hell are you supposed to be, huh? Some kinda lil bear?”

Under your fear, confusion bubbles up and you whine softly as he shakes the ears, try to back away from him only to make him tug on them tighter.

“N-No, please. I-”

“So what the fuck are ya?” Dabi interrupts, pinching them again and crowding in closer to you, leering down with a grin that makes you quake. “C’mon, sweetheart, I just wanna know.”

He yanks on them and that’s when you let out a bleat- your whole body jerking and little tears wetting your lashes.

Ah, shit- now he knows what you are.

Well, ain’t that fucking cute.

“Aww, a little lamb,” he croons, thumbs rubbing in little circles along your ears. The whimper that you let out doesn’t escape him- nor does the way your eyes screw up and your cheeks flush, your teeth dig into your bottom lip. “Hey, what’re ya doin’ out here, lambchop? Didja get separated from your flock?”

“D- Don’t call me that,” you sniffle out, head trying to turn away from him. He pinches your ears to keep you in place and you whimper again, cower even more as he leans down until his face is right in front of yours, until he can perfectly see those cute tears beading along your lashes and threatening to slip down your cheeks. “Mister, please- I just- I just wanna go home.”

“Oh, I’m sure you do,” he agrees, voice dripping with faux-sympathy. He starts rubbing along your ears again- little circles with his thumbs that makes you squirm- and Dabi licks his lips when your thighs press together, when you squeeze your eyes shut and whimper. “Aw, babe, I’m just messin’ with ya- no need to be such a crybaby.”

Your pretty little lips tremble and Dabi grins at that little wobble, squeezes your ears gently and runs them through the slits of his fingers. A weak shiver runs through you and Dabi hums appreciatively at the tiny, stuttered bleat that chokes out from your throat, the way you try to shrink away from him when he grabs onto your waist with one hand and goes back to fondling one of your ears with the other.

“Hey, do ya got a tail too? Bet it’s real cute.”

A squeal leaves you as he easily turns you around- you barely try to fight him off, can’t really do anything with those weak squirms and pathetic little jerks of yours. Dabi forces you around and you whimper when he whistles- little hands scrabbling at the rough brick of the wall and a fluffy tail greeting him. He grabs at it immediately and you cry out when he grips it tight- back arching and your ass sticking out toward him, quivering little sobs starting to break from you.

“Hey- I was right; it’s pretty cute, lambchop.”

“Mis- Mister, please! Please let me-”

Dabi lands a smack to your ass and the words die under a whine, your little tail shakes along with your rump. Dabi stifles a groan at the sight and he grinds against your ass, reaches up to fondle your twitching ears. There’s another little bleat that sounds and then a whimper- ears jerking underneath his fingers and your ass rubbing all along his cock as you squirm and try to get away from him.

Oh, no- he’s not about to let a tender little morsel like you get away.

“Hey, calm down- I’m not gonna fuckin’ hurt ya or anything.”

You only give a cute, pathetic little sob in response. It goes straight to his cock and Dabi licks his lips whenever you turn your head back to look at him- eyes bright with tears and cheeks flushed, wet lashes threatening to stick to your cheeks.

“Aw, darlin’,” he croons- mouth stretching with a grin, thumb massaging the fluffy mass of your ear and sending a tremble through you. “C’mon- I’m just playin’ with ya a little. Let me have some fun and I’ll let ya go, okay?”

“F- fun?”

“Yeah,” he tells you- gripping your tail again to mirror the way he plays with your ear. The tiniest bleat slips from your lips when he does and he nearly groans at the noise, presses tighter against your ass when you shiver. “Just a little fun, doll. Just a little fun and I’ll let ya go.”

“P-Promise?” you sniffle- lips wobbling with an upset pout, even more tears glistening and dripping from your lashes.

Aw, ain’t that adorable. You’re just the cutest little dipshit, aren’t you?

“Yeah, babe,” Dabi lies through his teeth- grin stretching wide enough to take up his whole place. “I promise.”

Another sniffle and your head bobs in a nod, your shoulders slump in dejection. Dabi almost laughs at it, but he just smacks your ass instead- makes you jerk and bleat before he pulls away.

If you were smart, you would have tried to run away when he did. But, no, you just cower like the frightened thing you are and rub at your eyes with loose fists.

Dabi grabs onto your wrist before the thought of fleeing enters your dumb little brain and he jerks you toward him, makes you follow after him on wobbly feet as he drags you out of the alley.

“W- what? M- Mister- where are you- I thought-”

“What? You want me to fuck you in the alley? Well, aren’t you eager.”

You squeak and shake your head frantically- eyes so wide and still so bright with tears. Dabi snorts and tugs you toward the hideout, grins whenever you whimper but don’t try to get away with more than a weak little pull of your arm.

“M-Mister, you didn’t say anything about- about-”

“About fucking? Oh, come on, lambchop- what kind of fun did you think I meant?”

“N-no! Please!”

Dabi ignores your pleading and your whines- just like all the people that he drags you past.

You try to grip onto the doorframe when he gets to the hideout, try to stop yourself from being pulled inside. It’s no use, though- he rips you from it with ease and makes you stumble into the hideout and into him. A panicked whimper leaves you and Dabi huffs at it, grips you by the hips and squeezes them so tight it has you wheezing.

“You better be good, sweetheart, or I might not let ya go.”

Fear has your eyes widening, another whimper sounding. You sniffle, head dropping, and Dabi yanks on your tail until you squeal and look back up at him- tears dripping down your flushed cheeks and body curling in on itself.

“Tell me you’ll be good,” he demands- grinning while you cower. “Tell me, little lamb.”

“I- I’ll be good! Mister, pl- please! I’ll be good!”

Yeah, of course you will.

Dabi grabs you by the wrist again and drags you past the bar and up the stairs- ignores whenever Twice pokes his head out of a room and gives him a curious little look. It’s only luck that keeps him from running into Toga and thank god for that- there’s no way he’d be able to keep the little freak from tearing you from him.

Whenever he gets to his room, he just scoops you up and tosses you on the bed. One of those cute little bleats leaves you as you land on the mattress and Dabi snorts whenever you bounce on the bed, whenever you scramble toward the corner of it and curl up, cower and shake like a leaf. He only has to grab you by the ankle and yank you toward him to get the tears flowing again and that’s enough to get him grinning, his cock throbbing. You’re so fucking weak and pathetic. It’s hot, makes him feel powerful as fuck. He likes it. Maybe he won’t let you leave after all. Dabi grabs your other ankle and drags you all the way to the end of the bed, kneels down and hooks your shaking legs over his shoulders. Your feet jerk against his back, kick and stutter against him as he whimpers. The thudding against him is so light and he barks a laugh at your ineffectual squirming, grins as he digs his fingers into your thighs. They’re so soft and he can’t help biting into the tender flesh, can’t help groaning whenever you shudder and whine. Your panties are just a little wet when he buries his face into your crotch and Dabi grins at that, pushes his hands up until he can rip them off, push your dress up over your twitching hips. “Lambchop,” he sneers, “you’re wet. What- do you like this? Like being eaten up by a big bad wolf? Is that why you were sulkin’ around the alley? You little slut.” “N- no! I- I’m not! I don’t- I don’t-” A swipe of his tongue through your folds has your squeaky protest dying, a whimpering whine leaving you. Your hips buck against his face when he flicks his tongue over your clit and Dabi grunts as your tail twitches under his chin, beats against him. Your little cunt is tight when he works a finger inside and your cry is cute- shivering and upset and high pitched. Dabi digs his fingers into your thigh as he forces another finger into your little hole and you sob- cushy insides squeezing around his digits and trying to push him out as you whine and squirm. A bleat leaves you whenever he curls his fingers and, for a second, it seems like the bucking of your hips is less out of fear and trying to get away and more like you’re trying to get him even deeper. Dabi groans at the thought and he dips his head to swirl his tongue along your clit, pumps his fingers and gets your thighs shaking over his shoulders. Your cunt pulses around him again and he laps at the beads of juice that are starting to slip out around his fingers, scratches over your hip to make you whine and jerk from him. “M- Mister, please! That- that hurts!” Yeah, no shit. Dabi lifts his head so he can take in your flushed cheeks and teary eyes, the shallow panting that makes your chest move in stuttering little motions. A whimper leaves you when he leans over you and he grins when your cunt tightens as your legs are forced against your chest, when you squeeze your eyes shut and your fingers curl into the covers. “And does this hurt?” he sneers, thumbing across your clit and curling his fingers again. You whimper and your cheeks flush darker, your pussy throbs around him. “C’mon- does it hurt? Tell me it hurts.” “It- it hurts!” “Liar.” You sob and Dabi’s grin grows as shame washes over you, as you try to curl up and away from him. It’s useless, of course, and Dabi leans closer to you, makes you mewl and bleat whenever his fingers grab onto one of your fluffy ears, rubs tiny circles along it. You bleat, again, and he feels you get more wet, feels your cunt tighten down on his fingers. He knew that would get you going. How fucking cute and pathetic. “Aw, you like that, little lamb?” he taunts. “You’re such a little whore- what kinda slut gets off to this?” “I’m not- I’m not- oh!” Dabi snorts as you moan and he takes a moment to slip a third finger inside of your tight cunt, snarls a little when he feels your cunt start to clamp down on him and flutter. “Did you just fucking come?” He doesn’t get an answer from you- all you do is whine and hide your face in your hands, sob as your shoulders shake. Dabi wrenches his fingers from your drooling cunt and he sticks them in his mouth, sucks off your shameful juices and looks over you with a smirk. He could just eat you up. “Roll over.” You shake your head, whimpering, and Dabi rolls his eyes, grabs onto your sundress and tugs on it until the buttons pop off and he can get an eyeful of your teats. “Well, shit, these are cute.” He doesn’t mean to mumble it, but he doesn’t really care that he does. His tongue runs over his lips and he grabs onto your tits, gives them a squeeze that has you whining and squirming. It doesn’t escape his attention that your ears twitch and it doesn’t escape his attention either that your cheeks flush darker, that your back arches just a little into his touch. You really do like this, don’t you? What a dirty little lamb. Dabi pinches your nipples and gets you gasping, your hands fisting the covers again. You don’t fight him when he flips you over- don’t do much more than whimper and bury your face in the covers with a sniveling whine. Dabi pushes your dress back up and he eyes your ass for a moment- appreciating the soft, unmarked flesh. A hard smack to it has it reddening and he laughs as you cry out, scrabble up the bed as pain shoots through you. Your next cry is even louder and Dabi grins as he drags you back by the the tail, lays another smack on you and gets you shaking. Your tail twitches in his grasp and he squeezes it hard before letting it go, grabs onto your cheeks and spreads you apart so he can get a look at your glistening cunt, your puckered little hole. He thinks about wrecking your ass, but dismisses it- he can always do it later; right now he just wants to feel your snug little cunt swallow his cock. “Aw, babe, you’re so wet for me.” “N- no- I’m not!” Your teary little lie is so cute, pathetic- he fucking loves it. Dabi grins as he takes his cock out, bites into his lip as he strokes over himself. Your tail shakes along with your body and you whimper whenever he rocks against your wet cunt, choke out a whine when he reaches to grab onto your ears again, fondle them. A tiny bleat sounds as he grinds against you and Dabi sneers over how easy it is to make your hips buck against him, how wet his cock gets when it slides through your folds. You’re really just a weak little whore, aren’t you? A dumb little baby that can’t help but submit to the mean, mean man and your cowering prey instincts. His dick slides into you with ease and Dabi grunts as you bleat and squirm underneath him, as your cunt squeezes around him. You’re still so fucking tight, but you’re wet too- soaked and hot, snug and sweet with your bleats and your twitching tail. “Fuck- you like this, don’t ya?” Dabi groans, fucking his cock deeper into you, squeezing your ears and making you bleat even louder. “You like this big cock fillin’ up your little lambcunt, don’t ya?” “N- no! You’re- you’re too big! It’s too much! Mister, please-” “Fuck, yeah- keep callin’ me that. Keep squeezin’ my cock, whore.” A smack to your ass and you’re left whining, clamping down on him even as you stutter out little pleas and protests. Dabi groans as his cock sinks in to the hilt, groans as your gummy and pulsing pussy squeezes around him like its trying to milk him dry. It wants him to fill you up, he knows- it wants him to breed your little lambcunt even if you beg him to pull out, to stop and let you go. Yeah, there’s no way that’s happening. Dabi grunts and he fucks into you- your cunt squelching and his balls slapping against you, a weak whine leaving you whenever he hunches over you and curls his fingers into your hair and grinds your face into the covers. “Fuck, this cunt,” he growls out. “You’re so fucking tight. Goddamn cocksleeve, fuckin’ little slut.” “Mister! Mister, please!” It sounds like you’re mewling now- muffled little whines cut up with bleats and moans, punctuated with squeezes around his cock. He hisses as you start to spasm around his dick, growls whenever your hips arch back against him and he gets even deeper into your snug little cunt. You cry out when he bites into your neck- seize up and then go limp against the bed, tremble with tiny little bleats that only make him fuck into your creaming pussy even harder. “Oh! Oh! Mister!” “Fuck, yeah- keep begging, baby. Tell me how much you like it.” A whimper and a shake of your head, a loud bleat and whine whenever he rains a smack on your ass. “Tell me, you stupid slut. C’mon- I can feel ya gripping me. Already felt you come.” “N- no! No, please-” Dabi grabs onto your tail and yanks it hard, gets you gasping and crying out a reedy keen that has him groaning. He tugs on your tail harder and you sob, shake as your whole body tightens and your nails claw over his sheets. “Tell me.” “I- I like it! I like it! Please stop-” Dabi moans and he lets go of your tail to grab onto your twitching hips, grunts as he fucks into you harder and faster and makes you bleat over and over again. “Gonna breed this lil lambcunt. Gonna- fuck- gonna fill ya up.” “No! Don’t-” Too late. Dabi comes with a groan and he keeps your hips pulled tight against him, doesn’t let you escape as he shoots his seed deep inside of your cunt and humps it into your womb. He can’t hear your sobs as he pants and just grins as you shake underneath him, hooks his chin over your shoulder and presses a kiss to your cheek that makes you whimper and sniffle. The sight of his come dripping from your cunt whenever he slips out is the best damn thing that he’s seen in a long time and Dabi eyes your oozing pussy with a sense of satisfaction, gathers up his sticky white seed with his fingers and stuffs it back inside of you. One last tiny bleat and then you collapse on the bed fully- trembling and crying, flushed and whimpering. You don’t try to get away from him when he crawls over you and you don’t do more than snivel when he forces his lips against yours- your own moving with uncertain little presses that makes him snort whenever he pulls back. “C- Can I go now?” you whine out- voice thick with tears and exhaustion, shame. “M- Mister, please- you said...” “I don’t remember saying shit,” Dabi grunts, reaching over for his cigarettes and grinning whenever your eyes widen in fear. “N- no! You said- please-” Dabi ignores you as he lights up and takes a drag, huffs whenever your lips tremble and you weakly try to squirm out from underneath him. His hand grabbing your jaw has you stilling and a squeeze to it has you squealing- lashes dripping tears again and your body quaking in horror. “Nah, I don’t think you’re goin’ anywhere,” he tells you. “Think I like fuckin’ you too much, lambchop.” “But- but-” “But- but-,” Dabi mocks, leering as you whine and sob. You flinch when he squeezes your jaw again, whimper when he smacks your cheek. “C’mon, don’t be such a crybaby. I know you liked it.” “I didn’t-” “You did,” he huffs. “I felt you come on my cock. I know your little cunt liked being fucked and filled up by me.” Your head drops in shame and Dabi coos as you start to really cry, brushes your tears away with a mocking sweetness that only makes you sob harder. “Make me come again and I might let you go,” he tells you, fingers threading through your hair and gripping onto an ear again, rubbing them until you whimper and a strangled bleat sounds in your throat. “You can do that, can’t ya?” You bite your lip and Dabi knows you’ve resigned yourself to that with the way your shoulders slump, knows that he’s gonna have you creaming along his cock again. You’re so easy and simple and weak- he can string you along until you’re broken, until you’re made into a begging little slut for him. “P- promise?” Dabi’s lips stretch with a grin and he nods, watches as you sniffle and swipe away your tears. “Yeah, babe, I promise.” Another sniffle and then you nod- lips trembling with a pout and face so sulky and cute as you soak in the obvious lie. Fuckin’ idiot. Dabi moves to lean back against the pillows and he watches as you crawl between his legs, watches as your little ears twitch and your tongue peeks out to lick a tentative stripe along his cock. You shudder whenever he curls his fingers into your hair, but you part your lips when he forces you closer to his cock and Dabi grins as he smokes and looks down at you. Yeah, he’s not going to let you go. He’s not going to ever let you go. Dabi hums as you slowly swallow him down and he smirks when you shiver as his fingers rub along your ear, when a muffled bleat sounds along his cock.

[apocalypticgargoyle]

Dream smut or fluff where reader and him are high key mean to eachotjer despite having so many mutual friends, but then something (very vague i know I’m sorry) makes them have to get close and the develop feelings? Sorry I’m shit at requests but thank you!!!

i know this is shitty im sorry akjsdh bls forgive me

𝐄𝐋𝐄𝐕𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑. ♘ 𝐝𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

± warnings: dream being a dick, slight slut shaming, toxic behavior, vulgar/suggestive mentions and language, sexual harassment on a bus (not by dream, you can breathe)

⋆ song recommendation: When the Night is Over by Lord Huron

You pulled a blanket beneath your chin, yawning slightly at whatever the tv was playing. You only had it on in an attempt to drown out the noises coming from your roommate's bedroom as she smoozed her date. You were honestly shocked the two hadn’t moved in together yet with all the time they spent wrapped up.

Her door opened, her eyes widening slightly at the sight of you sprawled out on the couch. He marched toward you quietly, hovering over your shoulder. You peered up at her hesitantly. “What are you watching?” She asked, voice barely above a whisper. You furrowed your brows, opening your mouth to speak but she hurriedly cut you off. “Do you mind watching it at Nick’s instead?”

You raised your eyebrows. “You’re kicking me out again?” She gave you an apologetic smile, making you roll your eyes as you stood up and pulled on your jacket. “This would hurt less if they also paid rent,” you mumbled, with a small glare.

She thanked you repeatedly, holding onto your arm as you gathered what little belongings you needed for the night. “I promise I’ll make it up to you,” she courted, opening the door for you. “Tomorrow, dinner’s on me okay?” You sent her a tired look and she apologized again. She stopped you as you stepped out into the cold night, leaning through the space between the door and the frame. “Maybe you can cozy up to that Clay guy? You guys have such a good vibe,” she mocked, making you chuckle lightly.

You shook your head, waving to her. “Enjoy your night. Please, for the love of God, clean the bathroom afterward,” you called, hearing her laugh at your statement.

The bus ride was quiet due to the time of night and the weather, both of which you didn’t mind. You knew Nick’s house would be warm and loud. Before you knew it, you found yourself in front of his apartment door, kicking at the concrete ground as you heard someone stumbling to let you inside. The door opened swiftly, Clay’s large frame blocking the light from the kitchen. He leaned against the doorframe mockingly as he looked at you.

He wet his lips. “Who’s the lucky guy tonight?” He joshed.

You rolled your eyes, brushing past his body to get out of the cold. “Whoever’s dick you’re not sucking, I guess,” you quipped back, making him laugh darkly. You kicked off your shoes as he shut the door. “Where’s Sapnap?” You asked, shrugging off your jacket. You’d texted him ahead of time to ask if you could stay over, which he readily agreed to.

Clay sent you a smug look. “You guys have a fun night planned?” He made a gesture with his hand to insinuate you were there to give Nick a handjob.

You bit back a chuckle. “Why? You wanna join?” You shot back. He bit his lip and moaned pornographically.

“Cut it out, Dream,” Nick grumbled as he walked into the room. He pulled on your arm to follow him.

Dream scoffed exasperatedly. “Me? I’m not the one who started it!” He called after the two of you.

As Nick pushed you out of the room, you turned your head. “You most certainly did!” You answered. You heard him chuckle at your words as Nick shut the door to his room. You plopped down on his bed as he sat in his chair, swiveling to look at you. “Why does Dream pick at me so much?” You mumbled, fishing in your pockets for your phone.

“He’s jealous,” Nick answered absent-mindedly. “What's the date look like tonight?” He asked, referring to the reason you were there in the first place. This wasn’t the first time or the last time your roommate had kicked you out. It was becoming a more frequent occurrence for you to end up on Nick’s couch or at their place in the middle of the day with your toothbrush and a change of clothes.

You moved to lean into his pillows. “I don’t know, it's the same granola fucker she’s been hanging around,” you answered.

He rubbed his chin with a slight smirk. “There’s a subtle justice to knowing she’s still with that asshat,” he commented, making you snort.

A week later, you were on your way back to your apartment after a lecture when someone felt you up. It was the straw on the camel’s back for you as you spin around to smack the guy, stirring up a few of the bystanders. You’d walked the rest of the way home, stepping through the door to be met with your roommate and her hookup twisted together in the kitchen.

You clamped your hand over your eyes, mumbling about how you just wanted to take a nap when you were once again sent to Nick’s. You let subtle tears fall as you trudged your way across the city, hoping to get out whatever darkness you had to your attitude. The last thing you wanted to do was confront Clay looking like you did. He was like the troll with the keys to the bridge. That was really the only reason the two of you ever talked, so you knew he’d be waiting to berate you before you could get to Nick.

As you walked into the building, you spotted Clay carrying a large box, his hair slightly disheveled and his hands dirty. You knew almost instantly that he was probably attempting to fix the kitchen sink and got a call because of the size of the package. That sink had been dripping since they’d moved in, making it Clay’s mission to futz around with it every Friday afternoon. You tried helping him one time, only ending up with a deflated sense of confidence and the second wave of your childhood anger issues.

He nodded at you as you held the elevator door open for him. “What’s up, babycakes?” He chirped, popping his gum. When you hesitated to answer, he looked at you fully, scoffing. “Damn, walk of shame gone sour?”

You crossed your arms over your chest, inhaling deeply to try and calm your nerves. “I’m not really in the mood today,” you muttered, tucking your hands between your back and the wall.

He snorted, setting the box down between his feet. “You’re always in the mood! Isn’t that like your thing,” he continued to jeer. “You look like you had a fun night though-”

“Clay, stop. I’m serious,” barked at him. His expression twisting at your use of his name.

He raised his hands in mock defense. “Sorry, I thought we had---like a bit thing, um-” he cut himself off, awkwardly shoving his fists in his pockets. After a beat of silence between the two of you, the elevator came to a sharp halt on the wrong floor, the light switching to red. The two of you shared a look, knowing that the landlord was probably flipping the wrong switches again. Clay texted Nick to see what was going on.

It began to grow colder in the elevator, as it usually did. When it was off, the cold from outside usually seeped in through the elevator shaft. There was one time you were stuck in the elevator for a few hours with one of your neighbors and Karl when he had come to visit. Back then, the three of you played Uno on the guy’s phone. It was also summer, so the chill creeping up your legs wasn’t as intolerable as it was now.

You rubbed the arms of your sweater in hopes of generating some kind of warmth. Clay watched you carefully, his hands moving to grip the bar behind him. “Do you want my sweatshirt?” He offered. You shook your head, sliding onto the ground and hugging your knees to your chest. He hesitantly slumped down beside you, kicking his long legs out towards the door. The red light filling the space made his features look softer.

He nudged your arm gently with his own. “I know I’m not Sapnap, but…” he chewed on the inside of his cheek, shrugging slightly, “I mean, we’re stuck in here. We can talk about it.”

You blinked away the tears threatening to spill once again, your eyes burning and tired. “I haven’t slept with him, you know?” You stated, turning to look at him briefly before moving to sit cross-legged, planning with your fingers. “I’ve never even kissed him. I’ve never kissed anyone,” you scoffed. Clay was silent, but out of the corner of your eye, you could see him watching you intently.

Being this close to him, you could smell the smoky vanilla undertones of his cologne. The scent reminded you of a masculine version of the candle your aunt always burned when she went out for a night to spite her ex-husband.

Clay leaned his head back against the wood paneling, his soft blond hair flattening in the back to spread against the wall. You swallowed, sighing slightly. “I haven’t even had my first kiss yet and I’m getting groped on the bus and kicked out of my damn apartment because my roommate and her fucking boyfriend have to hook up on every surface. Nothing is sacred.” You shook your head, wiping away some stray tears with the back of your hand and sniffling pathetically. “You can keep making slut jokes, I don’t care. But I swear to God, I haven’t done anything with Sapnap. Or Karl, or Quackity. No one.”

He chuckled softly. “I know. That’s why I used to make those jokes,” he mumbled. “It was like… ironic humor. And then it got so far that the only way I knew you’d talk back to me was if I was fucking around with you,” he admitted. You chuckled slightly at his words, taking a deep breath.

“Oh, Dream,” you sighed. “I would have hooked up with you if you weren’t such an ass,” you chided. His laugh made you feel better. He held his hand out to you, more for support than anything, but as you laced your fingers with his, your heart eased, feeling safe beside him.

After a beat of silence, he spoke up again. "I can ride the bus with you now... if you want..." He offered, a shyness that seemed so foreign to his character shown through his eyes. "I promise I won't grope you," he joshed, making you roll your eyes.

"That's really not something we should be joking about," you mumbled, wiping away the rest of your tears on your sleeve.

His thumb brushed against the back of your hand soothingly. "I mask my awkwardness around you in dark humor. I'm sorry."

[not-me-simping-for-blasty]

bakugou thoughts pt 2001847471 :)))

- if u go to the park, and somebody is like, walking their dog n the animal barks at y’all??? bakugou is barking back. mans full on squares up, n barks at the dog until it backs off

- he rarely gets into shows/series, but when he finds one he likes, he’ll only watch the first few episodes and then make u watch the rest with him. he’ll always say sum “if i dont watch with you, then i gotta make extra time for your needy ass. ‘m prioritizing my fuckin’ time. it doesn’t mean anything, shut up.” ...... he’s lying. it does mean something. it means he wants to share the things he likes with u

- pls he’s so smart, and generally pretty aware, but sometimes he’ll just do something so duMb. like, u kno that thing that happens sometimes with hair?? like, when it sticks to ur fingers and no matter what u do, u can’t get it off?? bakugou is literally breaking his wrist a foot away from u, shaking his hand back and forth and cursing soooo loudly. u just gotta go up to him and gently remove the hair from him like “oh honey- no.”

- peanut gallery comments. lots of them. mans will sit fully dead silent, not talking for the whOle day, but the second u do something embarrassing?? like trip??? suddenly he has a LOT to say ..... smh men

- animals just always like him. its absolutely unexplainable bc he’s so loud n moves super suddenly,,, but the amount of street animals that follow him home is ridiculous. srsly. sometkmes he even has other people’s pets trying to follow him home

- respects absolutely no one n that somehow strangely makes him the most respectful u’ve ever seen??? like- he hates everyone the exact same so u won’t ever catch bakugou in an act of discrimmination

- he can’t draw at all but if u asked him to draw something, it’ll be the same skull every single time. it’s a good skull, but it’s soooo obvious he learned how to draw it from a tutorial in the midst of his emo phase

- will fully make fun of others for baby-talking around their s/o, n then just fully go home n look at you like “tired.” “hungry.” “kiss.”...... like okay baby man, maybe try putting a full sentence together before u start trying to run your mouth. hypocrite.

- probably sleeps like the dead. contrary to popular belief, i absolutely do not believe he’s up at every single noise. man’s could sleep thru an explosion, im sure of it. that being said tho, it’s probably actually hard for him to turn his brain off n fall asleep. he prob goes to bed so “early” bc he has to wind down for a good hr or two until he’s ready to actually sleep

- he’s got a vendetta against salespeople. like, if his phone rings with some bullshit about a product? if somebody, god forbid, tries to walk up to your door? fully frothing at the mouth annoyed. will chew out any employee who’s too underpaid not to listen to him

- eats like an absolute animal. no rlly, its bad. holds his spoon with a fist and digs at his meal like its the gold rush. the worst table manners you’ve ever seen rlly

- he gets sorts antsy if he sits for too long, so he’s always off doing random shit. like, u’ll look out the window n he’s just like, raking the .3 leaves from ur driveway, probably trying to guess where the wind will be so they wont blow back

- ik this with my heart and soul okay,,, bakugou has never had a conversation with u that wasnt from exactly .2 meters away. like,, if he’s comfortable, then he’s just close all the time. like he’s waving his hands around and yelling and you just have to take his face in ur hands and go “im literally right here. ily but pls tone it down for the sake of my hearing.”

- very much guard dog behavior when y’all go out. absolutely will not leave ur side for even a second, like, at a bar or during a concert. even if u go to the bathroom he’s like, leaning against the wall and waiting right outside the door

- gets absolutely bitchy about your phone blowing up while you’re hanging out. its not that he’s suspicious that ur, like, cheating on him, it’s just that he doesnt understand why u’d even leave ur phone on in the first place since he always has his turned off when ur around. if he gets annoyed enough he’ll fully take the phone out of ur hands, say sum “yeah, you don’t fuckin’ need this anymore. you’re done with this.” n toss it across the room while he kisses u senseless

- tbh his ultimate love language is 100% playfighting. v much would go heart eyes if u even seemed like u might try n wrestle him. obvi u dont win, but his favorite is how u laugh while he pins ur hands above ur head

- he sneers at other angry people. will fully, fully sit there like “jesus christ, they need to calm the hell down. annoying as shit- fuckin’ loud too.” ....... -i. who’s gonna tell him

- silent conversations with ur eyes. no rlly. if y’all are with friends and somebody says something questionable, bakugou is immeadiately turning to u, eyes hardly even shifting but u just know he’s hurling insults in his head

- he doesnt realize his own strength sometimes. like- he knows he’s strong, but if u ever open a door n ur like “woah, careful, this is heavier than it looks” bakugou is .2 steps behind u practically ripping the damn thing off it’s hinges. he’ll look at it, huffing like he doesn’f even understand the issue

- he rlly likes when u call him by his name. pet names are fine, but he srsly is super soft for the simple stuff. like when u look over at him, all excited, smile wide like “hey katsuki, u gotta see this! c’mere!”

- his road rage is severe. no rlly. bakugou drives like every day is a race n he’s one win away from going formula one. you’re pretty sure that the only reason he passed his license test is bc the instuctor was too terrified to tell him no

- bakugou probably does that thing where if you’re sitting on the counter top, watching him cook, he’ll stand between ur legs. hands on ur thighs or resting on ur hips while you tell him about your day

- can’t explain this one, but he doesnt kill spiders. he takes them outside. says sum “they eat ticks, idiot. what- you actually want a fuckin’ blood disease? Hah? ‘m not gonna kill it. motherfucker’s gotta earn his keep before dyin’ just like the rest of us.” while he v gently picks the spider up into his hand and walks it outside

- ik that his one cheat food is sugary cereal. like, he’s a health freak, but the one thing he can’t help but make a concession for is sugary cereal on the weekends

- he’ll sometimes get in this over-stimulated mood where everything pisses him off, n the only thing u can do is leave him alone. u learn this quick bc his anger doesn’t discrimminate and if u push him even after he tells u what’s up?? pls bakugou will lash tf out. at u. like, ik y’all like to write it but that whole “it’s okay- it’s just me. just look at me.” thing does not work with him,,, u literally gonna get merc’d if u try

- he’s probably a guy who’s gonna be super big on passing touches. like he drops his hand on ur head when he passes, or bumps his shoulder into urs when he laughs. no footsies tho. too sappy even for him- pls if u tried to initate that he’d crush ur toes under the table aHAHAHA

- feeds every street cat he comes across. is probably super fond of the ones with a bunch of scratches/scars on them. he’d die if u knew, but one time u caught him feeding a scratched up calico n going “bet u beat his stupid ass, right? that’s my girl. we always win, huh?”

—/—

surprise suprise,, my brain rlly never shuts the hell up about this man

[fruitcoops]

I think it would be really interesting for leo and sirius to talk ab how they both didn’t go to college and how they both joined the nhl at 18 but had v different upbringings

Ooo, I like this one! I’m always down for some Cap and Knutty bonding. SW credit goes to @lumosinlove!

TW for mentioned bad parenting

“Kinda weird, isn’t it?” Leo said, breaking the nighttime silence after many long minutes of just their breathing. Sirius hummed in question. “Starting all this so young.”

Sirius made a noncommittal noise and Leo shifted, never taking his eyes off the sky. There was too much light pollution to see the stars properly in Gryffindor, but the roof of the rink didn’t have a bad view; the planes flying overhead brought pinpricks of brightness to the indigo blur.

“Was it hard for you?”

He heard Sirius’ coat move. “Was what hard?”

“Starting the NHL at eighteen.”

There was a long beat of silence. “Sometimes.”

“I didn’t know if I would make it,” Leo confessed, still barely above a murmur. Nobody else was around, but it didn’t feel right to talk in normal voices. The whole world was muted, save for the noise of the city below them. “There was just so much to do.”

Sirius laughed softly. “I hate to break it to you, rookie, but that doesn’t change.”

“How do you deal with it?”

“Before, or now?”

Leo thought for a moment. “Both.”

“Before, I would go home and shoot pucks until I was too tired to stand up. Sometimes I would read.” It wasn’t a secret, but it still made Leo’s heart hurt to remember. Nobody as kind and hardworking as Sirius deserved that. “Now, I make myself some food, take a shower, and steal Re’s softest hoodie.”

Leo could hear his smile in the dark—it echoed his own. “Nothing better, huh?”

“Nope.”

“Finn’s fit me best,” he mused. “But Lo’s smell better.”

“Ah, he finally discovered deodorant?”

“Shut up,” Leo teased, elbowing his ribs. Sirius laughed a little louder; in the light of the streetlamps and the absence of his granite-hard focus, it was easy to remember that he was only 26. Leo had worshipped him as a kid, but now he just saw Sirius for what he was. His captain, who guided him through the playoffs even when his personal life was crumbling apart. His older brother, though Sirius certainly wouldn’t think of him that way. His friend.

“Really, though, it’s important to have those connections,” Sirius said when they both calmed down. “Being alone is good, but only if you know you have people to talk to when you need them.”

“Was it easier when you weren’t living with someone?”

“No.” The answer was immediate.

“Sometimes I want the apartment to myself.” Leo lowered his voice unconsciously, then sighed. “It’s not because I don’t want them there. I just need to be alone. Wash the dishes. Clean my room. Call my mom.”

“You should tell them.”

He turned his head slightly; Sirius was still scanning the sky. “Is that what you did?”

“It took a couple hiccups, but yeah. If one of us needs some alone time, the other will go to the grocery store or take a walk, maybe hang out with friends. You just have to make sure your boys know that it’s not personal.”

“You’re freakishly good at sage advice.”

Sirius snorted. “Merci, rookie.”

“I’m not a rookie anymore.”

“Yeah, you are.” He raised his hands, as if outlining a marquee. “The Eternal Rookie, starring Leo Knut.”

Leo stuck his tongue out, feeling rather petulant about the whole thing. “Watch it, Cap, I’m gonna sic Dumo on you.”

“My own father?” Sirius gasped dramatically. “How could you?”

“Did you ever get homesick?”

The question was out of the blue—he didn’t blame Sirius for faltering. Honestly, Leo was kicking himself for asking in the first place, though he had been keeping it in for ages. Unspoken rule of the Lions #1: Don’t ask Cap about his childhood.

“I…” Sirius fell silent once more.

“I’m sorry,” Leo apologized, and he meant it. “That came out of nowhere.”

“I missed Regulus,” Sirius continued carefully without acknowledging him. “But no, I didn’t get homesick. I didn’t have time, or a real reason.”

Alone in a new city, finally out of a horrible living situation, but desperately missing the little brother he left behind… Leo couldn’t even begin to imagine going through it when the NHL by itself was already overwhelming to his teenage brain. He scooted an inch closer until their shoulders touched. “I get homesick every couple of months.”

“You have a kind family.”

“Have you even met them?”

“At the party.” Sirius’ smile was practically audible. “Your mother was very excited to see me.”

“Oh, god,” Leo groaned. “What happened?”

“She—“ He broke off with a laugh. “She was very nice, I promise, but I think I surprised her because she squeaked when I said ‘hello’.”

Leo shook his head. “Did you sneak up on her?”

“I’m six two, I can’t sneak up on anyone!”

“You walk like a fucking ghost, dude! It’s creepy!”

“Okay, rude.”

“I swear, you and Loops need to be belled like cats,” Leo huffed.

They lapsed back into comfortable quiet for a few more minutes as a train rattled past on one side and the metro busses rolled down Main Street on the other. It had taken Leo a long time to figure out Gryff’s layout, and even longer to get used to the sounds of the city.

“What does it feel like?”

Leo blinked, unsure if he had heard correctly. “What?”

“Being homesick.” Sirius shifted again and folded his hands over his stomach. “I didn’t notice much of a difference in practices when I started the NHL, and going back to my parents’ house wasn’t my exactly a highlight of my year.”

Curiosity overrode his tact and reasoning skills. “You never asked Logan?”

“Non. It was different, with him. He had already left to go to college before I knew him, and spent four years away from his family.”

“Right.” Leo forgot about that on occasion. That Finn and Logan might be five years older than him, but they had only been rookies a year or two prior. Not everyone went straight from their city select team to an official draft. “It’s hard to describe.”

Sirius made an understanding noise, but he couldn’t entirely mask his disappointment. Leo licked his lips and tried again.

“It’s like a piece of you isn’t where it’s supposed to be. And it keeps tugging on your chest, but you never know when it’s going to start and stop so you just… deal with it. You ignore it some days and you think about it other days.” He swallowed around the lump in his throat. “The hard days are when you remember you can’t go back to the way things were before. I don’t even call my mom sometimes, ‘cause I know it’ll make me sadder.”

“The way things were before?”

“Yeah, like—like all my classmates are in college, and I’m laying on a roof with one of the most famous hockey players in the history of forever.” That drew a light laugh from them both. “I’m gonna go back to my reunion in a couple years and have literally nothing in common with the people I used to be friends with.”

“Sometimes I wish I went to college,” Sirius said. “But I would have missed so much if I did. I don’t think I would have been happy there.”

“Finn and Logan get weird about college.” Maybe he shouldn’t be talking about it, but Leo had the feeling none of their conversation would leave the rooftop. “It was hard for them, with all their shit.”

“Re does, too.” He recognized the sad edge in Sirius’ voice; it was the same as his own. “For a different reason. It started good, and ended bad.”

“I’m glad I missed out on that,” Leo said, biting down the urge to scream at the universe for putting their significant others through so much hardship at an already-difficult time. None of them deserved the pain they went through. “Besides, it’s not like we need degrees to play hockey, and we’ll have plenty of money afterward.”

“I never thought about my life after hockey until my ankle.”

“My parents always pushed me to make sure I wanted to do the NHL instead of more school.”

“You’re lucky to have them.”

“I wish you did.”

The words hung suspended between them before Leo could swallow them back down, somehow dangerous and calming at the same time. It wasn’t like he had never thought about it before; he just hadn’t said it out loud. The first time he had seen Sirius’ parents across the rink had given him a case of the heebie-jeebies so strong he had to shower twice. All the times after that just made him angry.

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be.” Sirius’ voice was quiet, but not upset. “You’re not the first person to say it. I’m glad you feel like you can be honest with me.”

Leo frowned. “Well, yeah. Obviously.”

“I try really hard to not be an asshole captain, so it actually does mean a lot.”

“I don’t think you could be an asshole if you tried.”

The barking laugh that split the night startled Leo so bad he nearly jumped out of his skin; Sirius clapped a hand over his mouth, though he was still snickering. “Sorry, sorry, I just—holy shit, I forgot you didn’t know me before. Mon dieu.”

“You weren’t that bad,” Leo protested. “Pots said you used to be grumpier, but that’s it.”

Sirius shook his head, wiping tears of mirth from his eyes. “I was such a dick. There’s not a single picture of the whole team where I’m smiling for about two years and I was such a stickler for the rules.”

Leo gaped at him. “You followed rules?”

“To the fucking letter. It was awful.”

“What happened?”

Sirius shrugged. “I got friends. Idiot friends who did things like showing me the easiest way onto the roof. Pots used to drag me up here every Friday.”

“Really?”

“Ouais.” Mischief flitted over his face. “He skipped date night with Lily once on accident, and she tracked us up here like a bloodhound. It was terrifying.”

“What did you do?” Lily was one of the nicest people Leo knew, but he knew better than to get on her bad side.

“Lied to her face while James hid behind that strobe light.”

“Did it work?”

“Are you kidding?” he snorted. “She called me a liar and suggested getting a better best friend. That was after she told James he’s better have something nice planned for their next date if he ever wanted to get in her pants again.”

“And yet you didn’t listen to her.” Leo tsked. “Of all the people on the team, you chose the hot mess.”

“Trust me, rookie, James had his whole life figured out compared to me.”

“Did you…” Leo trailed off and but his lip. He had pushed his luck a lot already; who knew if one more question would be the tipping point? “Did you ever think about coming out? Even just to Pots.”

Sirius didn’t hesitate. “After every single game.”

“For seven years?”

“Up until the day those pictures were leaked. Even more after Re and I were together.”

“How old were you when you knew?”

“13. You?”

Leo exhaled slowly. “I’m not sure. I think I had an idea of it as a kid, but didn’t really get it until I was in high school. My parents were even more worried about the NHL after I told them.”

“They worry a lot about you.”

“Only child, and I was going for a wildly unstable career path with no guarantee that I would ever see the ice.”

“They’re proud of you. More than you know.” Sirius’ watch beeped. “It’s ten o’clock. Are you supposed to be home?”

“I should probably make sure my boys haven’t burned down the apartment.” Neither of them made an attempt to move. “Can we do this again sometime?”

“Of course.”

You’re like a brother to me, he wanted to say. I don’t know who else I can talk to like this. “Thank you.”

“Any time. We don’t have to do extra practice beforehand, either.”

Leo nudged him gently. “You’re the best captain ever.”

“You’re the best rookie, rookie.”

“I’m not a rookie.”

“Yeah, you are.”

Yeah, I am, he thought as they laid side-by-side in silence once more with the past behind them and the future ahead. And if I end up like you, it means I did something right.