#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. 

[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."

[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.

[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

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

An Offer

Warnings: coercion, threats, slightly blackmail-ish, intimidation, entrapment, implied noncon

This is dark!(lumberjack/nomad) Steve Rogers and explicit. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: Steve makes you an offer you can’t refuse.

Based on this drabble request:

Nomad Steve Rogers + “You'll never find anyone better than me.” + Lumberjack AU + Smashed and broken dreams of a good career forces reader back home. With a degree in her hand but no real chance of finding a good job reader has to accept any job she finds and Steve isn’t making it easy cause he wants her so he sabotages any job opportunity to make her depended on him. This really hits home 😭. Sorry 😭.

When you sat in your college lectures, you never expected to end up there. Never expected to be carrying armfuls of wood to a large stack, splinters catching in your gloves as each piece clacked between the noise of the logs being split. You didn’t expect to be working for pennies, busting your ass for hours, just to pay for the room above the liquor store in your hometown.

You didn’t expect any of it. It was a surreal nightmare. It was as if that purgatory could never let you go. The small town’s always claimed what was theirs. Blood grown of that soil could not venture far before the roots dragged them back, a constricting coil around the throat.

Another log split, almost exploding as the two halves fell on either side of the stump. Steve took one and chopped it again, then the other. Perfect quarters for you to pile in your arms and add to the mounting stack. Your sweat soaked the flannel coat, the same kind your father wore when you were a child, the same that everyone in town seemed to have somewhere in their closets.

Steve rested the head of the axe on the stump and leaned on it as he watched you.

“Think that’ll do,” he said as you heard him scratch his beard, “supposed to be a mild winter.”

“Mild? Around here? You know that just means the snow stops at the knee, right?”

You carried the last of the wood to the pile and laid it out in the niches perfectly. It was like a Tetris game, every piece had its place. You clapped off your gloves and looked back at Steve as he shook out his jacket and pulled it back on. Even as his work left him sweaty, you didn’t know how he could stand to take it off and bear the bitter winds in only a tee.

“My knees are higher than yours,” he said, “think I’ll be fine.”

“Uh huh,” you put your hands on your hips and looked out at the trees, the sun setting behind them in an amber haze.

“Hey,” he interrupted your sightseeing, “how about you stay for dinner? I finally tried that chili recipe…”

“You? Cooking?” you shook your head, “so that’s why I’m out here lugging wood.”

“Is that yes?”

“Do you have pepto?” you joked, “sure, guess I could. Save me the trouble of opening a can at home.”

You followed him inside as he held the door for you. You shoved your gloves in your flannel pocket and hung it as you wiggled out of your boots. Usually you tidied and did the household chores as Steve worked outside. It wasn’t much of a job but there was nothing to be had in the lifeless town. Still, even with the work you found in the city, you couldn’t afford even a closet to live in.

The house was nice, big. The country land was cheap and as Steve told it, he built the entire thing himself. It was a wooden castle with better amenities than most of the antique houses in town. He bragged about how he chose every countertop and cut down every leg of every chair and sanded and polished the thick table over a willowy fall.

But you wondered how he ended up there. He wasn’t from the town and his accent was not of the nearby metropolis. He must be from far away. You could see it was an escape from the life he didn’t talk about.

You sat at the table as he clinked around in the kitchen. He came out with two red bowls and set one before you as he sat at the corner near you. He handed you a spoon with a wooden handle and you twirled it as you watched the chili steam.

“Did you make these too?” you asked.

“Ha,” he said dryly and stirred his bowl.

“Well…” you shrugged and looked around.

He smiled at you and leaned his head back until his neck cracked. He let his spoon rest and rubbed his jaw. It twitched and he looked out the big bay windows of the dining room, the ridged bark and overgrown grass staring back.

“I…” he shifted and leaned on the arm of the chair, “I slipped your pay in your jacket.”

“Oh, thanks,” you were embarrassed to talk about money. He knew how little you made even if he did pay you generously for the work you did.

“But… I did want to talk about it, er, about…” he sighed and rested his chin in his hand as he traced his lower lip in thought. He sat up and cleared his throat, “we get along, don’t we?”

“Sure,” you blew on a spoonful and tasted the chili. It was spicy but not bad.

“I know how hard it’s been, Maggie, Lester, Jeff… tough break.”

You swallowed and sat back. You frowned. “How did you…” your resume had been turned down by almost every business owner and manager in town.

“It’s a small place, like that box you’re living in.”

“Steve--”

“I’m not saying it to embarrass you but… because I… want to…” he gripped his spoon, thought about having a bite, then let it go again, “I want to make you an offer.”

“You pay me more than you should for doing your chores,” you left your spoon in the bowl and ran your nails up and down your jeans, picking at the little metal snap by the pocket.

“That’s not--” he squared his shoulders and all humour left his face. He bit down and the vein in his head surged, “you could live here. The place is more than big enough… lonely.”

“I can’t--”

“Please, just listen,” he raised his palms, “I’m lonely and you’re in a bind. We could help each other.”

You squinted and shook your head. He took a breath and leaned forward. He reached under the table and touched your knee. He slid his hand up your thigh until it met yours and you stopped him.

“What--”

“You don’t even have to keep on cleaning or any of that,” he said quietly, “just be mine. You’ll be comfortable here. All you have to do is… be here… with me.”

“Steve,” you held onto his thick fingers, “maybe you don’t mean it that way but I’m not… not a prostitute.”

“It wouldn’t be that,” his throat constricted, “it would be convenient; practical.”

“I should go,” you shoved his hand off of you and stood, “you did a good job with the chili.”

The chair scraped behind you as you stepped out from between it and the table. Steve was fast and caught your shoulder before you could evade him.

“Go where? Do what exactly?” his voice was stern and stolid, “huh? No one in town’s gonna hire you, we both know that. And you can’t make it in the city.”

“That’s mean, Steve, I want to go,” you pouted, “let me go.”

“Why can’t you see I’m helping you?”

“You have helped me but what you’re… offering is insulting, don’t you understand?”

“It’s generous is what I’d say,” he grabbed your other arm and pulled you close as he snarled down at you, “I can give you everything you need and want, all you have to do is give me…” his eyes crawled down your body, “a little sweetness.”

“Steve--”

“You’re proud, I get it, you don’t want to admit you have no choice but what happens when Fletcher needs that room for storage or he rents it out to a higher bidder? Where do you go then? Huh, you keep handing out that resume and what has that degree got you but sorrys and no thank yous?”

“Get off--” you pushed on his chest as he squeezed your arms painfully.

“Let me tell you I will be the only yes you ever get,” he growled, “I made sure of it.”

“Wha-- I--”

“I’m not driving you back to town,” he released you, “so if you really wanna go, if your pride is worth all that, you can walk and see if you beat the wolves. Or you can stay and earn that extra bill I put in your pocket.”

“Steve, what the hell?”

“Your call,” his fingers stretched around the waist of his jeans as he flexed his chest, “reception’s shit so good luck getting a ride.”

“You can’t--”

“Let me make this easy for you. Walk and see if you make it home, stay and you’re already home.”

You searched his face. You’d never seen this side of him. You blinked and spun on your heel. Fuck him. You’d drive yourself and he could tell the police you stole his truck. You ran to the front door and snatched his keys from the hook. You bent to grab your boots but his hand on the back of your neck stopped you. 

He wrenched you back and tossed you against the wall. The keys tumbled to the floor and he kicked them away, “no cheating,” he said, “you wanna go then?”

Before you could answer the high whine of a coyote cut through the air and the glass slats of the front door dimmed. You faced him and your heart beat wildly.

“Why?”

“You going?” he asked again.

“Steve--”

“Well?”

“You can’t do this,” you pleaded, “keep your money then. Just take me home.”

“No,” he marched towards you and pinned you by your neck against the wall. His hand threatened to stifle your breath as he leaned in, “go or stay?”

You batted away tears with your lashes. You turned your head as far as you could whimpered as the sky continued to darken through the marbled glass, “Steve.”

“Go or stay?” he rasped as his breath tickled your cheek.

You trembled and touched his wrist. He squeezed just a little and you gasped, “and if I get lost? If I die out there?”

His lips curved and he chuckled lightly, “you willing to take that risk?”

You watched him, looking for any crack in his veneer, looking for an ounce of the man who’d been your godsend in that desolate town. He wasn’t there. It had all been an act, a trick. He had you in his snare like any good hunter.

“What choice do I have?” you whispered.

He pressed his forehead to yours and his large nose brushed against the tip of yours, “I’m not that bad,” his other hand crept along your stomach, “you’ll see that,” he played with the ribbed cotton, “you'll never find anyone better than me.”

🪓🪓🪓

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