#dog hybrid!steve

[ddejavvu]

Puppy hyrbid Steve is the one who calmly sits by your lap, slowly licking at your face with a smile, tail steadily beating on your thigh, as he asks you about your day. And puppy Kurt is the one who’s tugging on your ear, and pulling your hand to his hair, and tussling upside down on your lap for his attention, finishing up with licking over your lips so fast you don’t even have time to shut your mouth.

cw: hybrid au with dog hybrid!steve and dog hybrid!kurt. don't like don't read, or block the tag 'hybrid au' below. hybrid au faq

mhm especially if you're giving steve more attention at the time! kurt's a jealous little fucker, so he'll act extra crazy to get your attention back on him. luckily you're good at managing them both, if you kiss up on kurt for a bit he'll get all drowsy from how excited he gets and then you can shower stevie in all the love he deserves :'))

[jadewritesficshere]

Werewolf!Steve is a menace in the sense that whenever he gets wet from rain or swimming he locks eyes with Eddie who is just innocently standing there. Eddie can feel the targeted stare and barely has time to start running before Steve is bolting at him. Steve gets within distance and immediately shakes himself so all the water on his fur flies at Eddie.

[softfem-dom]

I am absolutely feigning for some more hybrid!outsiders content 🙏

girls love puppies hybrid! outsiders headcanons

synopsis :

what would happen if you came back home with a pack of seven dog hybrids after a visit to the kennel?

or the challenges of living with seven teenage boys with dog traits.

worcount : 3k — masterlist 𝜗𝜚 navigation post

tags/warnings : third person pov, canon-typical violence, cuss words, dallas being dallas, mentions of living in the streets/being homeless.

You felt too alone inside the huge country house you had inherited from your late father, alongside his whole company. It was too much space for just one woman and the dust seemed to collect everywhere. Your days had narrowed down to doing chores around the house, going out grocery shopping, and sitting on a chair infront of your desk —signing away paperwork. You had had your life handed to you, completely resolved, in a silver platter. So, in spite of not listening to the tedious silence, you decided to take a walk to the local kennel and see if any of the hybrids there caught your eye. If you got lucky, you'd take home one or two to keep you company. Upon your entering, your eyes were immediately drawn to the hybrid sat on the furthest corner from the bars of his cell. Tan skinned, with a scar going from his cheek down to his chin, and with the darkest —messier— curls you had ever seen. His black ears, fluffy, were slightly pinned back as he stared into the wall with a dejected look in his brown eyes. "what about that one?" you politely interrupted the worker showing you the hybrids in the different cells. She stopped her rambling, looking at the direction you were pointing, before her eyebrows raised. Before she could speak, though, a loud growling was heard coming from a different cell to the one you were pointing at. The girl, probably not over twenty, chuckled nervously as she readjusted her collar. "oh, um, yeah, that's- that's Johnny" she tried to speak, but the growl got louder. "there's a problem, though.." "what problem? I'm not worried about paying for vaccines and all that" you answered kindly. "no, uh, the problem is that.. to get Johnny" she turned towards the cell were the growling was coming from. "you'd have to get Dallas" Before you could answer that you'd gladly take those two, she continued. "and to get Dallas, you'd have to get Darry.. and to get Darry you'd have to get Sodapop" she kept on "and to get him you'd have to get Ponyboy, and if you get Ponyboy you'd have to get Two-Bit, and if you get Two-Bit you'd also have to take Steve.." When she finished talking, she sent you an apologetic look —assuming you wouldn't be interested in taking seven stray hybrids home. To her surprise, and the hybrid's, you just stayed silent a few seconds before speaking up again. "very well then" you said, eyes drifting back to Johnny. "I'll take them"

⮞ so that's how you ended up with a pack of seven stray hybrids in your home.

⮞ intrusive thoughts : 1 - you : 0

⮞ Johnny is a groenlanden belgian sheepdog, characterised for their black furr. Known for being very intelligent and affectionate with their packs, but aloof and cautious of strangers.

⮞ Dallas is a wolf-dog hybrid, not from any specific breed, just a pup that someone abducted and trained into a hound dog. He's tougher, meaner and colder than the others, also his canines are sharper and his bark louder.

⮞ Two-Bit is a border collie, known for their high energy so when they get bored they may develop some.. behavioural issues and start acting out. They like having things to do, tasks to accomplish, and a lot of playtime.

⮞ Steve is a belgian malinois, they like working and are incredibly focused when doing so. They are incredibly loyal and, while not typically 'cuddly' dogs, tend to form extremely strong bonds with their owners and will stick close to them.

⮞ Sodapop is a golden retriever (obv) since they're known for their friendly, loyal, and gentle nature. They’re often described as one of the most social dog breeds since they tend to get along with everyone (kids, other pets, strangers, etc..)

⮞ Ponyboy is a greyhound. Greyhounds can be a bit reserved with strangers but are not typically aggressive. They are often quite affectionate with their family members, seeking out attention and being very gentle in their interactions. Despite their reputation for speed, they tend to be calm and laid-back dogs in the home.

⮞ Darry is a german shepherd, known for their loyalty, intelligence, and versatility. They’re often described as one of the most trainable dog breeds, which is why they excel in a variety of roles. Protective and fearless, excellent guard dogs. They tend to form strong bonds with their families, though they can be reserved around strangers.

⮞ at least now your house is never silent. There's always someone laughing or barking somewhere.

⮞ Two-Bit and Soda were the first ones to warm up to you.

⮞ to say Soda's tal was wagging like crazy all the way to your home would be an undersatement. ^ he is the passenger prince. always.

⮞ Pony got sick in the drive home btw (he's not built for cars lol)

⮞ Darry was cautious of you, but extremely polite and respectful too since you had adopted them all and he knows better than anyone what you're gonna have to deal with 😬

⮞ Dallas was a downright asshole.

⮞ he kept growling at you all the times you got 'too close' to him or Johnny.

⮞ Darry had to hit him in the back of his head to get him to 'shut your traps'.

⮞ Steve was more on the neutral side of things, he was glad and honestly surprised someone had taken them all in but he was still a bit cautious.

⮞ Johnny just stuck to Dallas and Ponyboy, not really approaching you out of the polite side of things (like saying good morning, or hello, or giving you an unsure smile whenever he walked by you)

⮞ over time, though, Johnny started to relax when it came to you.

⮞ after, maybe a week or two, Dallas dropped his shitty behaviour and took up a more relaxed (yet still asshole-ish) route when interacting with you. ^ he started to get flirty, too, but in a strange way (like a bit mocking idk)

⮞ Darry is actually the most helpful lol

⮞ he is dedicated to helping you wash the dishes, do the laundry, and he's the designated handyman whenever something stops working or the boys break something.

⮞ he will always go with you if you have to go shopping somewhere, especially if it's already getting late outside. He gives you scary dog priviledges

⮞ Dallas will absolutely go through your things. It's his favourite hobby.

⮞ whenever he gets bored, boom, suddenly he's in your room looking through your drawers searching for whatever he can get his hands on.

⮞ sometimes he'll drag Johnny along and the poor sheepdog will we whisper-talking to Dallas the whole time trying to get him to stop. He'd die if you ever caught them looking through your things.

⮞ one time you caught them while Johnny was trying to stop Dallas from getting his hands on your silky drawers and his cheeks had never burnt so red. ^Dallas just smirked at you like the cocky shit he is.

⮞ Two-Bit is all about running around and being restless, he has the highest energy you've ever seen.

⮞ The best way to get him down from an energy blast is whistling for him and putting on Mickey Mouse on the TV. That's the only way he'd sit still.

⮞ Dallas and him have started a 'game war'. In which the game consists in seeing who can sneak up on you from behind and get to lift your skirt.

⮞ Darry actually gave them the worst scolding they've had to endure after finding that out. ^safe to say Two-Bit spent the rest of the day with his ears down, and cheeks permanently flushed, in embarassment.

⮞ Steve is a complete goner for your car.

⮞ you're a wealthy woman, with the company and money you've inherited, and you have a damn black cadillac parked in your front door.

⮞ he is crazy for it, trying to keep a straight face while his tail is wagging like a helicopter when you suggest letting him drive it. he actually popped a boner just from the thrill of driving it btw lol

⮞ Ponyboy is the calmest, and he likes to lounge in your room where the boys don't usually get in. He plays the guard dog whenever he catches Dallas trying to sneak into your room btw.

⮞ He likes to go through your books and then talk to you about them.

⮞ He actually is like having a teenage son that only comes talk to you when you're already tucked in bed and about to go to sleep like "hey mom I just remembered what I dreamt today-"

⮞ Sodapop likes to follow you around the house, he doesn't like being alone and will literally glue himself to you if it's a stay-in day. He's fr going to lay down next to you or on you if he ever catches you napping.

⮞ he's the kind of hybrid to sneak up into your room late at night and ask if you're cold. Before you can answer he'll sneak under the sheets to steal your body warmth because he is cold.

⮞ Dallas is actually only vulnerable when the vet check ups come around.

⮞ He's going to be grabbing onto your sleeves, literally digging his fingers onto your arms, when it's his turn to go in. He'll have the widest look to his eyes and the most nervoust smile to his lips you've ever seen.

⮞ he'll be anxiously rambling about how he doesn't need any vaccines while trying to keep up his facade.

⮞ after getting the shot he always is a changed man, well, hybrid. He's the quietest you'll ever see, with a 100 yard stare (so dramatic) and he'll actually let you carry him back to the car.

⮞ once home he'll lay down on the couch for the rest of the day and won't move, he's so dramatic. He'll literally be staring at the ceiling like he was thinking over his whole life.

⮞ one time Johnny came by to ask what was going on with him, and he lit deadpaned with a "I've been violated today"

"C'mon doll, c'mon-" Dallas was trying to convince you, trying to appear put-togheter, even while his voice was cracking mid-phrase and his hands were clawing at your sleeves. You tutted at him, your hands on his arms as you gently tried to pry him off of you. "Dallas" you spoke, voice firm yet affectionate "It's just a vaccine" "but I don't need it, doll!" he downright barked, his eyes wide as he stared up at you, grabbing onto your sleeves while the vet and her assistent nurse tried to get him off of you. "'ve been a stray in NY streets, man! I don't need no stupid shot!" now he sounded almost agressive, snapping his jaw and growling at the nurse that tried to grab his tail. "yes, you do" you replied calmly, trying to get him to level down, but his hands only tightened on your sleeves. He pushed himself against you, chest against chest, in his frenzy to get away form the nurse. "GET YOUR HANDS OFF OF ME!" he barked when the vet finally got her hands on his tail, with that grip he was vulnerable. With a firm tug, and a growling bark, the vet managed to get him off of you and onto the table. With the nurse holding him down as he kept looking at you —giving you his most pleading eyes. Safe to say, you left that room with the toughest and tuffest member of his pack tucked into your arms. His forehead on your shoulder, legs dejectedly around your waist, and his arms hanging lifelessly by his sides.

[steddieasitgoes]

Detours & Second Chances

written for @steddie-week Day 5 prompt: Reunion / Getting Back Together Rating: T | wc: 3545 | no cw Another big thank you to @sidekickjoey and @thefreakandthehair for giving this a beta read for me! Read on ao3

Steve had high hopes for this road trip. 

Just him, the twins, and the wide open roads with the promise of the beach and Disneyland on the horizon. He knew better than to plan it down to the second, especially when traveling with Mabel and Ollie, but he did hope to keep to some kind of schedule. A few nights here, a couple of nights there, a handful of free time hours carved into nearly every day so the kids could pick which tacky roadside attraction they could visit and then gloat to Aunt Robin about seeing. 

What Steve hadn’t planned for was the Winnebago going up in smoke four and a half hours from Disneyland on I-15. 

The good news is that it happened just as they entered Las Vegas, Nevada, and not thirty minutes later in the middle of the Nevada-California desert. The bad news is that it happened just as they entered Las Vegas, Nevada on a Sunday afternoon when everyone was trying to leave. 

Steve expects the drivers around him to curse and flip him off. At the very least, he imagines them shaking their heads in disapproval as they slowly inch past the smoking Winnebago broken down in the middle of the three-lane highway. And there is some of that, honking horns and judgmental gazes, enough that he has to explain to Mabel and Ollie that showing someone your middle finger is not nice and no you shouldn’t do it to each other. But there’s also a handful of Sunday travelers who take pity on him. 

Two truck drivers manage to get their rigs off onto the shoulder and then mosey their way over to see if they can help Steve identify why the RV is smoking. A woman in a mini-van full of preteens in sports jerseys offers him an entire ice chest full of snacks for Mabel and Ollie. Some good Samaritan even makes the half-mile hike to the nearest pay phone to call for a tow truck so Steve doesn’t have to leave the kids or make the track himself with them following behind him. 

Forty-five minutes later, they all climb into a yellow taxi while Winnie the Winnebago gets towed away. For a moment, he thinks he’s ruined the entire vacation, but listening to Mabel and Ollie talk about how cool it was to watch the “toe man” do his job eases the guilt. 

Unfortunately, the repair shop is nowhere near as exciting as standing in the middle of I-15 — at least, that’s what Ollie tells Steve five minutes after they’ve walked into the garage. Steve tries his best to keep everyone’s spirits up in between filing out paperwork and bargaining with the mechanic over the price of the repairs. He lets the kid raid the vending machine and spread it all out on the worn plastic chairs in the makeshift lobby like some kind of five-star buffet. It’s mainly cookies and chips, a few candy bars, and a granola bar Mabel even generously spent $1.10 on for him. 

It’s not the worst meal they’ve had on the trip — that honor goes to the gas station in Kearney, Nebraska, and the hot dogs he knew were a bad idea �� but it’s definitely the least nutritious. And, in hindsight, it’s not the best idea now that Mabel and Ollie are hyped up on sugar in a small space with no central air conditioning. He gets it. He’s almost at his wit’s end, too, and he has several decades of patience over them. 

He’s hot and tired and so frustrated, he’d break down and cry if he could, but he doesn’t want to upset the kids or ruin the day more than it’s already been ruined. Instead, he puts on his brave Dad Face™, leaves his pager number with the mechanic’s receptionist, and takes the kids to explore Las Vegas. 

The city wasn’t on their list. It’s not kid-friendly, and the July heat is anything but welcoming, but thankfully, they luck out and stumble across a hybrid game and music store a few blocks away from the repair shop.

The bell above their door announces their entrance to the quiet storefront as the sweet, sweet relief of the AC hits them. Steve closes his eyes, soaking in the cool air for a moment before Mabel and Ollie are tugging on his hands, trying to drag him in different directions. 

Steve knows he should put an end to their bickering that borders on full-on sibling bullying, especially judging by the way they’ve dropped his hand in favor of pinching each other’s arms, but he gets distracted when a figure emerges from the back of the shop. 

The footsteps are uneven, which makes sense when an ornate cane enters Steve’s line of sight. He studies it, taking in the impressive woodwork and paint job — Max’s own can is pretty spectacular, but this one is a close second. Soon, his eyes drift from the cane to the hand holding it, a ring on each finger. Silver and gaudy and eerily similar to—

“Holy shit,” the voice says. “Are my eyes giving out on me too, or is Steve Harrington really standing in my shop right now?” 

Steve’s eyes shoot up to meet the man’s face — to meet Eddie’s face. It’s been years, shit, almost a decade he thinks, but Eddie looks the same. Older, sure. A few wrinkles around his eyes and a softer belly. But he’s still him. Unruly curls barely contained in a bun at the base of his neck, mischievous eyes, and a smile that makes Steve’s stomach flip in a way it hasn’t done in too long. Yup, definitely him.

“Eddie?”

Eddie laughs, throwing his head back with the same carelessness as he had at twenty years old. Only this time, when he rights himself, he has to reach a hand up to his neck to massage the ache. “Man, this is some cosmic, universe shit!” 

“At least it’s the good kind this time,” Steve jokes. 

Eddie goes for a full-on hug, Steve an awkward side one, and as a result, they end up with their bodies smushed against each other, arms pinned between each other in the world’s worst hug of all time. But it’s also the greatest, as far as Steve’s concerned. 

When they separate, Eddie gives Steve a quick once-over before shaking his head again. “So, what brings you all the way to Sin City?” 

“A family road trip.” 

“Ah, so the six nuggets and a Winnebago dream came true, then?” Eddie muses. 

“More like two nuggets, a piece of shit rental that’s in a repair shop after crapping out on me on I-15, and a co-pilot that doubles as my son’s emotional support stuffed animal,” Steve says, then smiles. “But I can’t complain.” 

“Wheeler never jumped on the Harrington Express?” 

Steve’s interrupted by Ollie running at him with a vinyl record thrust above his head. Mabel appears a moment later, holding a giant box in her arms that’s clearly too heavy for her. She passes it to Steve, who hands it over to Eddie, who has taken refuge behind the glass counter. As soon as the kids appear, they’re gone again. Steve shouts after them to stay together and not to touch anything. It goes in one ear and out the other if the loud crash that follows a moment later is anything to go off of. Steve winces and looks at Eddie apologetically. 

“I promise I’ll pay for whatever they break. They’re a little stir-crazy from being stuck at the repair shop all day.” 

Eddie doesn’t look worried about it in the slightest. In fact, Steve’s willing to bet he didn’t even hear the crash, judging by the fond look on his face. It’s a soft smile, almost bittersweet if he had to put a name to it. It looks out of place on his face — almost too earnest, which makes no sense because Eddie is the most earnest guy Steve’s ever known. 

“Eddie?” 

“Huh, what?” Eddie blinks himself back to the present. When he shakes his head, the elastic holding his hair back snaps, sending his curls cascading down to his shoulders. It’s easy now to see the hints of gray peppered into the locks that used to keep Steve up at night — occasionally still keeps him up. 

Steve gestures toward the row where Mabel and Ollie are frantically trying to restack things on the shelves. This time, Eddie snorts and meets Steve's gaze with that familiar crooked smile. 

“Don’t worry about them. S’just boxes and shit.” 

Steve nods and then grabs a pen out of the cup on the glass counter. He twirls it between his fingers, something about the rhythmic motion calming the silly nerves running wild in his body right now. 

It’s just Eddie. 

“Nance would kill you for even thinking she’s a part of this circus,” Steve says, then panics. “To answer your question from before. No misses at all actually. Or misters either,” Steve says before he chickens out. 

Eddie left before he realized that little fun fact about himself. It was ironic (and tragic), considering he’s the reason Steve even realized it to begin with. Chalk it up to cosmic, universe shit — the bad kind that time. 

“Cause that could be an option to, you know. Obviously you know, but it’s an option for me too in case you didn’t know and—“

“Woah, breathe, Steve.” 

Steve takes a slow, deep inhale. His exhale is strong enough to send a few of Eddie’s stray curls fluttering before settling back amongst the rest. “Sorry.” 

“Stop apologizing!” Eddie throws his hand across the counter, squeezing Steve’s wrist, 

It’s silly, but something about the simple touch relaxes the nervous energy that’s taken over him ever since Eddie emerged from the back. A part of Steve wants to blame the relief on the touch, but he knows better. Knows it has everything to do with finally telling Eddie about this part of him he helped him discover. 

Steve’s been out to just about everyone he cares about, and now he’s certain he’s told them all. 

“So no misses or misters,” Eddie says, before hiding his growing smile behind a curl. “What about Buckley? Is she on the great American family road trip with you?” 

“Robin refuses to get into Winnebagos after, well, you know.” 

“Can’t say I blame her for that one.” 

“It’s just me and the kids. Mabel and Ollie. They’re my kids…I mean, well, obviously, they’re mine, and anyone who says they’re not are fucking idiots, but they’re not blood mine or whatever people say.” Christ, he’s rambling again. “I adopted them. Actually, I was supposed to be their temporary foster parent. I was in my second year as a social worker, and they were two and six months old when they came in the middle of a Saturday night and we had no one on standby. They came home with me, and then they just never left.” 

Somewhere in his rambling, Eddie made himself comfortable, pillowing his chin on his hands, elbows sinking into the giant mouse pad that’s stretched out on top of the glass counter. He’s dropped the curl, his bright smile on full display, dimple, and everything when he looks at Steve now. 

“I love a good foster fail story,” he cooed. “I have a few myself. Fosters that turned into full-on adoptions. I mean not human kids, cats. And a few dogs. Even a bird. But they’re my kids, you know. I mean, not that what you did is the same thing as me or anything, but I… I’m just going to stop talking now.”

This time, it’s Steve's hand that breaks the barrier between them, reaching out to pat Eddie on the shoulder. A reassuring thing that he hopes conveys that he’s not offended. Just in case, he spells it out for him verbally too. 

“I get it. Kids mean a lot of things to different people. If you say they’re your kids, they’re your kids,” he says, smiling. “Robin has a plant, Ferguson. When she first got it she carried it around in Ollie’s baby bjorn because she needed to ‘bond’ with it.” 

Eddie laughs, this time hard enough that the case between them vibrates. “Lesbians, and their plants, man.” 

“She rescued it from her ex, who was drowning it.” 

“We’re just all patron saints of lost things, aren’t we?” 

“Guess so.” Steve smiles, then adjusts his own stance so he’s leaning against the counter. Something pops in his back, and for once, he doesn’t make an excuse. Eddie knows all about their aches and pains — the way their bodies are thirty years older than they should be, thanks to their teenage years. He runs a steady hand through his hair, hoping beyond hope that it’s not as greasy as it feels and then turns his attention to Eddie. “What about you? Game and record store sounds like a pretty sweet deal.” 

Eddie blows out air in a whoosh and reaches for another curl. “I mean, yeah, it’s pretty cool. Closest I could get to being a rockstar, I guess.” 

“Do you still play?” 

“Occasionally. There’s a dive bar a few streets over that I perform sometimes. No band, though. At least, not yet. I’m giving myself a few more years; let the gray really come in,” Eddie says, fluffing his curls. “And then I’ll join one of those mid-life crisis dad bands.” 

“Solid plan.” He fiddles with the pen again, contemplating if he should ask what he wants, too. Screw it. Who knows when he’s going to see Eddie again — if it’ll ever happen again. It’s best not to leave anything on the table. “What about a partner?” 

“Me?” Eddie asks, pointing to himself before laughing. “Nope. No partner. No lovers either, really. It’s just me and the petting zoo. And Wayne, when the old man makes the trip out to visit me.” 

Eddie being alone all these years shouldn’t make Steve happy. He should want him to be settled by now, grossly in love with someone who makes him feel special like he deserves. But Steve’s heart is a traitor, and his brain is no better, already imagining ten different ways he could change that. 

Had he known Eddie’s been in Vegas alone all this time, he would have visited a lot sooner. Hell, he would have made this their final destination — he’s sure he could find something family-friendly here for Mabel and Ollie. There’s a lake around here or some shit, right? They could have—

“Shit,” Steve says, reaching for his beeping pager. The repair shop number appears on the small screen. “Could I borrow your phone? This is the repair shop.” 

“I suppose I could make an exception on my no-customers rule,” Eddie teases. “Phones in my office, straight back there.” 

Steve nods and rounds the counter towards the backroom but stops short. The kids. He almost forgot about the kids. “Do you mind keeping an eye on them?” Steve asks, tilting his head to Mabel and Ollie who have finally picked up the mess they created. 

“Of course! Don’t worry about them. I’m great with kids.” 

“I remember.” 

___

Eddie’s office isn’t unlike his teenage bedroom Steve spent many nights in. It has his typical brand of messiness but with an added layer of professionalism. Like, there’s an honest-to-God filing cabinet in the corner, but next to it is a three-foot-tall Yoda statue.  Papers lay haphazardly on the desk beside a calculator. 

There are posters all over the walls — some Steve recognizes, some he doesn’t — and endless photographs in mismatched frames. At least three wallet-sized frames with pictures of his pets — kids — sit on the desk. There’s one of Wayne and Eddie on his graduation day on the bookshelfnbeside photos of him with Dustin and some of the other kids over the years. 

He even spots himself amongst the familiar faces — a polaroid they took one summer in Hawkins. It feels like a lifetime ago, but a part of Steve remembers what it was like to have Eddie’s arm slung around him like that with the sun beating down their faces, causing them to squint in the photo because Jonathan refused to shoot directly into the sunlight. 

Steve gives himself another second to soak in Eddie’s office, searching for any other details he can find to fill in the years he’s missed — a pride flag draped over a chair, his business license framed on the wall, packs of half-used nicotine gum instead of cartons of cigarettes. Finally, he makes it to the phone and punches in the number of the repair shop. 

___

When Steve resurfaced twenty minutes later, the neon “open” sign that flickered in the window had been shut off. Eddie’s abandoned his post behind the counter, taking up space at a table in the game section of the store. Mabel and Ollie are sitting on either side of him, listening intently with wide eyes as he moves two figures across a board toward a hoard of waiting miniature figures. 

“I leave you for twenty minutes, and you’re already corrupting them with your nerd games?” Steve teases, ruffling both Mabel and Ollie’s hair in the process. 

Eddie scoffs. “You expect me to believe Dustin hasn’t put them through D&D boot camp yet? Please.” 

“Your stories are nothing like Dustin’s,” Ollie says, voice full of awe. 

“Yeah, he always wants to skip the fun adventure stuff and get straight to the battles,” Mabel chimes in. “That's why we like it when Daddy gets to be in charge.” 

Eddie’s head swivels so fast that the irrational part of Steve’s brain fears it’s going to fly right off. “You DM for them?” 

 “I wouldn’t call it Dungeon Master-ing,” Steve says, grabbing the back of his neck. The room feels ten times hotter all of a sudden. The AC must have shut off, he reasons. There’s no other explanation for his sudden flush. Not at all. “I really just make sh— stuff up.” 

“He’s the best make-believer! You should play with us sometime. Like tonight!” 

“Mabel, Eddie’s busy running this store; he can’t just stop to play with you. And besides, we have to get going soon.” 

“They fixed Winnie?” Ollie asks, jumping up from his seat. 

Steve sighs. “Not yet. That’s why we have to leave. I need to find somewhere for us to sleep tonight that’s—

“—I have a guest room.”

Steve blinks. Is Eddie offering his place to them? His hearing may be spotty lately, but he’s never imagined entire phrases before. Which means—

“I mean if you want,” Eddie says sheepishly this time. “I have a hoard of kittens running around right now, so if you’re allergic, it might not be the best place but—“

“Kittens!” Mabel squeals before rapidly asking Eddie a hundred questions about them, but he doesn’t stand a chance of answering. 

“Can’t we stay at his house, Daddy?” 

“I really do have a spare bedroom and bathroom. Plus, a couch and a semi-stocked fridge. And I wouldn’t charge you. The hotels around here are going to sense your need and charge you an arm and a leg, trust me.”

Steve would be stupid to turn it down. A free stay in an actual house. A meal he can cook with his own two hands that don’t involve a shitty stove that gives out after a few minutes. Not to mention, a shower with actual hot water. 

Plus, it comes with the added bonus of a few more hours with Eddie. Yeah, there’s not a chance in hell he’s turning that down. Not again. 

“Alright, yeah. Let’s do it.” Mabel and Ollie shout in excitement, spinning around the table. Eddie might not have the same energy level as them to join them, but his smile says it all. 

“It’ll be just like old times.” 

“Wait! You guys know each other?”

Steve laughs first, but soon Eddie’s cackle joins him and it really does feel like old times again. “Of course, I know him. What? You think I would let us stay in a stranger’s house? Don’t you know me at all?” 

___

Three days later, Steve finds himself behind the wheel of Winnie the Winnebago as she makes her grand return to I-15. When he glances over his shoulder as the traffic crawls for miles in front of him, he spots Mabel and Ollie throwing Fruit Loops at each other to see who can catch the most in their mouth. And when he looks to his right, Eddie’s there — feet up on the dash, hands protectively clutching Ollie’s teddy bear as if he’s hoping it offers him the same comfort it does for the six-year-old — handsome as ever.

“Didn’t think I’d ever be back in one of these,” he says fondly. “Especially not with you behind the wheel.” 

“Really?” Steve lets the corners of his lips twitch upward. Doesn’t try to fight the blush he knows is creeping across his cheeks. “‘Cause this is all I’ve thought about for years.” 

[strangerxperv]

Bunny hybrid Eddie x human reader x (golden retriever) werewolf Steve

( @werecreature-addicted inspired me to think outside the box for bunny hybrids)

I have some thots

Hybrids and Werewolves Oh My

Warnings:

Breeding, Steddie, ruined orgasms, possessive Steve, monster fuckery, scenting, Dom/ Sub, MINORS DO NOT INTERACT/NSFW

Everyone assumes that rabbit hybrid people are all submissive. They liked to be railed into the dirt by big strong beasts. Some do like that and you've definitely seen Eddie drooling while Steve fucks his ass.

Steve is a werewolf with the personality of a golden retriever, he's the top dog, so to speak. He's the alpha in your tiny three person pack. And you are the sweet little human woman the duo love to breed.

Which is one of the only things the boyfriends agree on when it comes to you. Eddie is a mean dom that enjoys making you cry. Whereas Steve thinks you need to be spoiled and doted on.

Eddie always fucks you first and it always takes multiple rounds for him to be finished. His calloused hands grip just under your knees where he leans. Pushing your knees into your bouncing tits and forcing your legs to stay open. His massive full balls slap onto your ass without mercy. Rabbit hybrid's are made to cum fast and keep fucking to ensure a successful breeding. Finally, once Eddie has his fill of you (or rather once you're full of him) it's Steve's turn.

Steve has to fuck you last because he always finishes with knotting you. Werewolves have stamina that can take multiple rounds to finish. But there is always a thirty minute refractory period. A knott keeps him tied to you and the cum stuffed deep.

Both men are breeders and they don't care who succeeds.

The goal is for you to become round with child and tits dripping milk.

That's not to say they aren't possessive!

Steve in particular has an intense jealousy streak that goes for both his partners. Most monsters or nonhumans can scent the three of you on each other. There are some that don't care and try to shoot their shot.

It drives Steve mad and Eddie lives for it...so long as they aren't hitting on you or Steve. If they flirt with him? Eddie will flirt back just to rile Steve up so he can get fucked hard. (Werecreature addicted is def right about bunny hybrids being brats).

Sometimes Steve will actually punish Eddie and he has you help him.

The last time Steve punished Eddie-!!! 😩🤤

Steve had you giving Eddie blowjobs and just as he starts to cum you pull off, ruining it. The original idea was for you to fuck him but you couldn't be trusted to stop. So instead Steve is knott deep in Eddie and he is balls deep down your throat.

The best part is Eddie a rabbit hybrid can keep fucking and you don't have to stop after he's cum. His cock jumping in the air as cum splashes across your tits and face. The rest of his orgasm drools down his large throbbing cock. It drips down his spasming balls to join the puddle beneath him.

Steve leaves deep bite marks on Eddie's pretty slender throat. The shapes of sharp canines pierced to leave bloody trails. Hickies on his strong shoulders that will make people ask questions. And amongst those marks are smaller ones, with blunt teeth.

But of course this didn't actually teach Eddie anything.

[fandomfluffandfuck]

I recently re-read thiccbuckybarnes's fics in the "the catboy bucky au" for the millionth time, lmao, and maybe I'm still just in the headspace of my latest fic, "Take It Like A Man" but, Jesus, as much as I love sweet, little twink kitten Bucky now I just can't stop thinking about beefy Buckitty.

Of course, thank you, @thiccbuckybarnesfic, for the inspiration. Your fics are always immaculate 🤌🏻🤌🏻

Anyway, I think you know what kind of beef I'm talking about...

I'm thinking about hybrid tomcat Bucky with fuckin' big, huge shoulders and a thick waist, monumentally meaty thighs, and an ass that'd make anyone's mouth water--doesn't matter if they're a dog or not, everyone wants to chase that pussy. His chocolate brown ears swivel atop his head, and his tail, the same color as his ears and hair, is often lashing. His body, too, is hairy from the stubble on his handsome jaw to the backs of his forearms to his purring chest to his stomach to, especially, his legs and ass.

This cat, Bucky, is a charmer when he wants to be but he's also a grumpy son of a bitch. He was a street cat for years after all (and he's got a nasty scar over his left shoulder to prove it), so he knows how to get what he wants, whether by swiping it himself or swindling it from the right person's hands, making handing it over feel like their idea rather than his.

Grumpy, Bucky doesn't like being woken from his midday naps, but, charmingly, his purring is more a low-level vibration, rumbling through his big chest and especially vibrating if Steve pets down the front of his throat, feeling it in his bulging Adam's apple. He's a big, handsome boy.

So...

Domesticated and (mostly) docile in his apartment with Steve, Bucky's first instincts tell him he's closer to grumpy than charmed when his afternoon nap--curled into as tight of a ball as he can be when he's got so much thick muscle packed onto his frame and he's resting on the short end of their oversized L-shaped couch--is interrupted by what at first-? He's not sure.

First, he cracks one eye open, unsure why he's not drifting anymore. His right ear twitches. Steve's not being too loud and waking him up. His stomach's not rumbling, so it isn't dinner time. Also, it's not like the sun has gone down, so it's definitely not dinner, it's still hot out, and--

Ah, there it is.

The heat.

Bucky had been snoozing comfortably in a pool of afternoon sunlight, but somewhere along the way, his body has been cooked, overheated, and now, he's sweating. His lip curls up.

Gross.

Bucky huffs, displeased by how his tight shirt is sticking to his back.

With a yawn so large it makes his jaw click, he scratches at the ends of his long-sleeve shirt until one of his nails hooks it and he can drag it up 'til the seams scream around the thickest part of his forearms. Yet, lifting his shirt is nowhere near enough to cool him down, and he ends up shifting and squirming, pawing at the elastic waistband of his sweatpants until he can kick them off, too. Stripping down leaves him in nothing but his painted-on boxer briefs and tight, rumbled henley.

Squirming like that, though, gives him a new problem. Or, an awareness of a problem new to his sleep-heavy mind. Judging by what his body's saying, he's had the problem for a while.

He's hard.

He's really fucking hard.

God, for as much as he's sweating--his muscled back damply sticking to the stretched, stressed fabric of his poor shirt he wriggled into this morning after rolling out of bed, his long hair looking like a nightmare--he's wetter between his legs. His cock, heavy and thick, pulsing like a cracked tooth still wedged into his jaw, is leaking into his underwear. That's not enough, though, his dick is also doing its damnest to burst through the fly at the front.

Christ.

Bucky's eyes roll back into his head, soaking in the sudden sensory input of his heat sneaking up on him like this. He can't think straight under the fever-like onslaught. Was he due for heat? Already? It feels like he just had it? Didn't he? Oof, it gets hard to know when he's supposed to be in season and not with how Steve fucks him so well, ruining him to the point that he's not sure he's not constantly in heat. Steve presses every button he didn't know he had, mashing them until Bucky just a shapeless lump of purring putty in his hands.

Either way, this is definitely heat.

He shivers despite the flaring temperature of his body, feeling the hair on his arms raise at the slightest sensation ghosting over him. In response, Bucky grunts, squirming again just to shiver harder instead of alleviating the tickly, hyper-awareness of his nerves.

Rolling more onto his side, his tail flicks wildly. The muscles at the small of his back are all too tight and twitchy. He can feel how his round asscheeks drag thickly against one another that much more when he's lazing on his side; the friction between his cheeks slick and smooth from a messy cocktail of slick dripping from his hole and the sweat running down his back in rivers.

He's burning up.

Without realizing it, Bucky's shifted again. He's on his front now. When'd that happen?

"Ohhh," he exhales and all the humid air rushing out of his lungs like he's been kicked. He practically paints the couch cushions in condensation because his breath is so hot and thick, building up while he napped.

His body is so hot. He's burning up. He's molten. He's on his front on their perfectly nice couch without knowing how he got there, not really, and he's ruining their fucking furniture 'cause he can't help it. His hands are nail-deep in the cushions, kneading them while his tail lashes, keeping itself out of the way from his soaked, clenching hole.

The rest of his body keeps adjusting, too, restless as his tale as he squirms and writhes and pushes and pulls. This way and that, going until his instincts can quiet, pleased with his position. Of course, he ends up with his legs spread wide, the muscles in his thick legs pulled taut and shaking despite their normal, coiled strength. His dick and balls want to hang heavy, heavy, heavily, but they're kept tight to his overwhelmed, overheated body by the pesky, clingy fabric of his boxer-briefs. His big, broad back is arched deeply. His shoulders are shifting and bulging as he works his arms underneath his face-down body, kneading the couch that much harder.

He's so, so ready to be mounted. Fuck, he's ready to be bred. That's what his body wants. That's what his instincts need.

"Steve," Bucky groans thickly. Then, in lack of an instantaneous response, he groans again, this time louder, "Steve!"

Ugh.

Fuckin', of course, trust Steve to wander too far to hear him the one time Bucky actually needs him. He needs that dick--needs his cum. He, he, he needs--

Bucky gets distracted by something, anything, comprehensible happening in his head by the shudder of arousal that rushes through him. (Who needs coherent thought when he's got ceaseless desire? Apparently, he doesn't.) He might be big and strong, but, Jesus, just put him in the right position, and his instincts take over. He can feel himself dripping. He can feel his hole clenching and unclenching around nothing. He needs something. Anything. Steve's hands on him--petting his ears, pulling his tail, stroking his flanks, jerking off his cock, fingering his achy hole, and all the rest of it, any kind of torture Steve feels like inflicting with those magic hands--sound better than anything.

He needs.

In his built chest, Bucky's heart thumps harder, beating like a fist against a drum. And. That's not a bad idea, actually. He's getting grumpy, left alone, needy and hard, so, the easiest thing he can do to alleviate any of it is press his head harder into the cushions, half nuzzling and half grinding his forehead against it in teeth-gritted frustration. He punches the cushions, pounding them. He wishes something, fucking anything would pound him.

"Steve!" He's closer to an actual mewl than he wants to admit.

God. Fuck. Fuck.

He wants to be fucked so bad.

Resolving to be left to his own devices while Steve fucks off to do whatever he's too busy doing to pay attention to Bucky, Bucky grumpily buries his burning, blushing face deep into the cushions--his dark hair eagerly takes it's place fanning across his face, fluttering over his open mouth with his heaving breaths. Paying the rest of his body no mind when his hole is so pleading and empty, Bucky leans onto his right arm to free his left. He shudders harder than he should in anticipation for damn well knowing what his own hands feel like on his body but... he can't wait, his heat is breathing down his neck so harshly, demanding now.

Pleasure now.

Or else.

With his unburdened left hand, Bucky unsteadily reaches back, finding the elastic of his boxer briefs waistband, accidentally, frustratingly flicking himself with it a few times, pulling a hiss from his own lips and quickly giving up entirely on having the motor function to simply pull his underwear down. Rather, he uses his retractable nails and his strength to rip them off.

"AH!"

Jerking into the tearing, eye-rolling friction of the fabric dragging across his hypersensitive, leaking dick, Bucky's hips have a mind of their own. He keeps grinding, squirming, and moving. He can't help it. He's shivering from tip to tail. That feeling of his tangled up, soaked boxers against his too-tight skin after waking up in heat and after finding himself all alone also after being a grumpier yet attention-seeking cat in general has Bucky scoring long scratches into the couch without realizing it. He's stressed. It's not his fault he scratched the cushions! If Steve were here, this wouldn't've happened. Instead, he, yeah, he would've, he could've--

God.

The now useless scrap of cloth falls between his spread-apart knees and leaves Bucky with wide-open access to his dripping, achy hole. He doesn't slide his fingers in right away. That would be too easy. So, he just slides the pads of his fingers through the mess, spreading it around from the base of his tail over his leaking hole to his perineum and the sensitive place where his heavy balls just start to pull at his skin. Without meaning to, he yowls.

Oh, god!

It feels good.

It feels so good.

His skin is glazed with slick like molten glass. He knows he's all pink and swollen and wet between his legs. He wants to fist his dick so bad, too, but he's only got one hand. If he wants to hold himself up like this--like his instincts desperately need him to--he can't use both hands.

Uselessly, his knees slide a little further apart, the tingling of rug-burn settling just under his skin, his hips rutting forward into nothing but thin air, the tip of his dick hitting his belly sharply, springing tears to his eyes and splattering pre-cum across his clenching abdomen. He wants to tear his hair out, he needs pleasure so fucking bad. He doesn't care about anything as frivolous as friction-burn to his knees.

Fuck that.

Fuck meee.

He mewls louder, half-shaping Steve's name after crying it out so many times before, it doesn't matter that he's not here, that he's left him like this, that he's such a bastard that he'd leave him when he's, he's--

He just wants him. He wants him all the time. He wants to scream Steve's name, have Steve's hands on him, have Steve's cock in him, Steve, Steve SteveSteveSteveSt--

"Buckyy? You home?" The sound of the front door shutting underscores Steve's voice and sounds a million times louder than normal with his heat-heightened senses. "Are you hiding from me, tomcat?" Steve's voice dances with humor, the nickname dripping off his tongue so easily, "you wanna play? You've been sleeping aaaall day, lazybones."

Bucky just groans, muffled into the cushions. He's relieved but still fucking desperate. If Steve doesn't get over here right now and whip his cock out of his fucking jeans to sink into him, balls-deep, he's gonna--he, he'll--he doesn't know what he's gonna do but something. He'll do something. Anything. He's going to go insane. He needs to be fucked. He needs to be mounted. He needs Steve to stick it in him. He needs to cum. He needs relief.

He's going insane.

"Steeeve," Bucky's voice is sharp and wailing like an alleycat engaged in a claw-heavy brawl. His big, heavy cock is twitching madly underneath him and the sound of Steve's heavy, rushing footsteps to come and check on him has never been sweeter.

"Oh." Steve stomps to a halt, "oh, kitty."

"Steve," he mewls, clawing the cushions that much more. They're gonna be shredded by the time they're done with round one.

[lipglossanon]

Please follow the links below 💜

🎃 Promptober 2023 🎃

🎄 12 Days of Smutmas 🎄

🥀 A Dozen Roses - Fairy Tale AU 🥀

👻 Kinktober 2024 👻

🎁 12 Days of Smutmas (2024) 🎁

Leon S. Kennedy:

Corrupt Cop

Corrupt Cop Remix

Stepdad

Alcoholic/Sweet Stepdad

Dark Stepdad

Stepbro

Subby Stepbro

Office Executive

Roommate

Sugar Daddy

Las Plagas

RE2make Cop

Friends w/ benefits

Masseuse

Dogman

Professor

Puppy

Dog-tags (blurb)

Fat Lip (blurb)

Priest

Boyfriend’s Dad

Real Dad (incest)

Real Uncle (incest)

Boyfriend’s Best Friend (blurb)

Doctor

Real Bro (incest)

Serial Killer

Hybrid Reader (Fox)

Stepson

Real Son (incest)

Brother-In-Law

Best friend

Subby real bro (incest)

•Moon-Scented : Bloodborne x RE AU i

•Moon Drunk : Bloodborne x RE AU ii

•The Old Ways : Leon x Priestess!reader

The Merchant:

One Shot Trifecta •

And Now For Something Completely Different

What’re You Buying?

Anarchy Road

Ark Thompson:

When You’re With Me I’m Smiling

Kurt Kunkle:

Stepbro

Steve Harrington:

Stepbro

Sci-Fi/Horror AU

[itscrazycasey]

RP Blogs

Marvel- Canon @multiverse-peterbparker (Peter Parker) @official-happyhogan (Happy Hogan) @officialeddiebrock (Eddie Brock/Venom) @thetonyestark (Anthony Edward Stark) @normanosborn-oscorpceo (Norman Osborn) @cosmothespacedog-official (Cosmo the space dog) @thelittleguyfrombrooklyn (Steve Rogers) @doctor-brucebanner-official (Bruce Banner) @thenewfalcon (Joaquin Torres) @congressman-barnes (Not yet active, but in the works. Bucky Barnes) @peter-starkofficial (Peter Stark) Marvel OCs @nyxtheshadow (Vail Kaelen) @theelectricguy-official (Kairos Voss) @ghostblade-official (Finnian Holloway-Barnes) @official-cjbarnes (Callum James "CJ" Barnes) @lucian-stark (Lucian Stark) @doctor-mindweaver (Viktor Malric) @captainzenith (Sol Rogers) @project-subzero (Yuki) @project-gaia-hydra (GAIA) @doctoradamyan (Vahan Adamyan) @nikolaos-th0rn3 (Nikolaos Kastaros) @agent-of-shield-s (Oliver Winslow) @the-hydra-hybrid (Viren Kingston) @0m3ga-9 (Achileus) @imjustagirlyourhonor (Symphony LeBlanc)

[bigtreefest]

My mind is flowing with some ideas, so Len which WIP you think I should work on/you want to see next. I’ve discussed some of them, but feel free to ask questions or screech with me comments, reblogs, and tags.

[russetfoxfur]

alright these are subject to change but ive been getting into headcanons abt the minecraft default skins. not just alex and steve tho im talking bout our underrepresented underappreciated newer defs. under the cut are my headcanoned backstories abt them based off mostly vibes (T-T minecraft plsss you couldve given THEM a story instead of these new fuckin characters in the minecraft movie. pls im begging you)

Efe—a piglin hybrid. They/them. Fighter/builder. They were raised in the Nether as a Brute and journeyed to the Overworld, where they were picked up by Steve and Alex after besting Steve in combat. Infatuated with the water because there’s no water in the Nether—has learned to swim and loves to relax by a lake or ocean. The best fighter of the defs, rivaling Alex in terms of combat, and enjoys learning new combat techniques—loved experimenting with the mace. Builds interiors, something the rest of the defs tend to neglect. In a relationship with Makena and Ari.

Makena—a bee hybrid. Xe/her. Farmer/builder. Xe was part of a Hive before she left to see more of the outside world. She loves gardening and farming and has a green thumb; loves to be helpful and tries her best to better nature in any way she can. Xe’s also very good with agriculture and farming. Loves mobs and the creatures of the world and tends to have five dogs and cats each at minimum. Loves landscaping and creating natural-looking builds; usually calls in Noor or Efe to help her with details. In a relationship with Efe and Ari.

Ari—a fox hybrid. She/her. Redstoner/magic-user. She grew up in a small taiga village and first discovered magic through the local brewery. She was apprenticed to a cleric, but, on an expedition to gather mushrooms for a spell, found Noor and took him in. She resigned from apprenticeship and began to travel the world with him before finding the defs and settling down. She’s very outspoken about her beliefs and hates authority figures with a passion. Very good with enchantments, brewing, and other magical activities. Can hold her own in redstoning due to her cleric apprenticeship. In a relationship with Efe and Makena.

Sunny—a cow hybrid. He/him. Crafter/blacksmith. He grew up as a leatherworker apprentice in a small, cozy village—but, after a zombie chewed off his arm, he abandoned that career to become a blacksmith. He made his own arm and got into redstone to keep his arm maintained—but left his village at the urging of Kai to explore the world. He settled down with her after finding the other defs, and enjoys a plainer life. He’s best at formulating plans and, while he's not utterly useless at it, prefers to let others do the fighting. Mostly makes simple, practical contraptions to ease his quality of life. Also loves fishing. Aroace.

Noor—a frog hybrid. Ze/zem. Culinarist and builder. Ze grew up in the sunny mangrove forests and led a relaxed, easy life, but one day ze returned to find illagers chopping down zir forest. Ze fled and ended up in Ari's village, where ze was taken in and apprenticed as a farmer. Ze and Ari left the village to get revenge on the villagers, and, though ze's settled down with the other defs, ze's never forgotten zir vengeance. Likes the methodical tasks of farming and cooking, and enjoys decorating larger builds. Gay, currently open.

Kai—a breeze hybrid. She/he. Dabbler—leans redstoner/prankster. She’s always lived a relatively mundane life, even though she accidentally spawned in a village instead of the Trial Chamber beneath it and became a villager-breeze, but, after a zombie attack put her village in peril, fled with Sunny and never looked back. He likes accomplishing the most insane achievements he can think of, and loves dragging Sunny into his shenanigans. Bi, currently open.

Zuri—a bat hybrid. He/him. Redstoner/noteblock artist. He grew up in the lush caves, living off glowberries and azalea buds, but, when Alex and Steve explored his cave, he followed them to the surface and moved in with them. He is also pretty bad at fighting, preferring to use redstone to make his life easier. He loves music and redstone, and has the largest store of music discs ever. He loves making his own music and creating cool redstone contraptions. Autistic. Gay-ace, has a crush on Noor.

Alex—a human. She/her. Fighter/builder. The second human ever, created to destroy Herobrine. She chased him away from the burgeoning Minecraft servers and settled down on one. She is undefeated in combat and is otherwise very intelligent. She is also rather friendly and casual, and wants to uphold the peace of the Overworld. Good at creating practical, lived-in builds, grounded in what she knows. Aroace.

Steve—a human. They/them. Miner/builder. The third human ever, Steve was spawned as a test to make sure that Herobrine was indeed a fluke instead of a norm—made up of much of Herobrine’s code, with a few changes to personality and power. Wants a life of peace and simplicity. Easily spooked, especially scared of screaming goats, but resourceful and good at combat. Mute. They tend to build more fantastically than their counterpart, with huge megabuilds and whimsical creations. Aroace.

[strangeanddarktidings]

Hey all! I'm Ghost, 30+, long-time role-player seeking some discord writing partners. I've been out of the game for a bit but am back around and looking for someone to indulge in various plots. Writing would take place over on discord with a preference for use of tupperbox. I'm a relaxed and easygoing partner looking for the same. Generally, a semi-lit writer (one chunky to three/four paragraphs). Replies can come several times daily or may be a little more sporadic depending on that pesky thing known as life. Partners must be 21 or older, with a preference for 25 or older. Below the cut are some ideas that are top on the list of what I'm seeking. Some are more plot heavy, some are simply spicy indulgent.

Fandom plots:

Call of Duty Task Force 141 Mafia AU plot: This idea has a few iterations that could be played. I'm open to plotting with my partner. The basic idea is that the guys belong to some sort of crime family/families. The group (Price, Gaz, Ghost, and Soap) could function under the umbrella of one crime family, or they could be split among two separate families. Leaning towards a more modern take, rather than that of the 20s througu 60s a lot tend to think of. There are plenty of angst possibilities. Warnings for potential violence. Little more plot heavy before getting into spice. Seeking two separate pairings as I'm willing to double within this idea. Would love to play Ghost against someone's Soap, and a female OC against someone's John Price.

Stranger Things shifter au plot: The Upside down terror has come to a close after Hopper and Eleven face the horrors in the bottom of Hawkins labs. A hope that things could get back to normal. As normal as it could be for a small town full of shifters and non humans could be. Could play Joyce, Jonathan, Steve, or Hopper for this. Steve and Jonathan would be older (college aged 21). Would love to play against Hopper in this, either with Joyce, Steve, or an OC. I see Steve as a scrawny, hybrid dog/wolf shifter, Joyce a bear shifter, Jonathan following after her as a bear shifter, and Hopper as wolf shifter. A little more slice of life. Open to putting them through things to add dynamics and angst. Also willing to double for this idea.

Original character plots:

Trucker driver (m) x naive, innocent thing (f). This would be more of a smut driven plot. Initially, it starts off with the driver chatting up a woman who has this idealistic, naive view of the world. She wants to travel and see things. Maybe a little too desperate for praise. He promises to take her all over the country, eventually trading such things for more physical pleasure. It could develop into genuine feelings between the two, or it could remain a one-sided use deal. Would love to play the driver in this scenario.

Knight x Queen: The king is unable to produce an heir, a year after his marriage to the neighboring kingdoms princess. The agreement hinges on an heir. A deal is stuck in secret with one of his knights, a close friend. The queen and the knight are allowed an affair, kept under wraps, in order to produce an heir. Be fine playing either the knight or the queen.

Good boy x bad girl: The upstanding, youth leader son of a pastor who has never gotten in trouble a day in his life. The one who was never a disappointment and always did the right thing. The bad girl. Name known around town and one that's always in trouble. Tagging buildings, breaking into cars, and throwing wild parties. The one expected to never amount to anything. The two are unlikely to get together. She sees an opportunity to get a pay day and maybe show the world that those "golden" individuals aren't so golden. Chance for genuine feelings or could be utter corruption. Potential chance for angst. Leads into heavy smut.

Vampire x Vampire Hunter: A little cliche but its fun to have two individuals fight attraction but ultimately be unable to give in. Enemies to lovers build up. Forbidden romance with plenty of push and pull. Leans a little more smut heavy but plenty of options to explore and world build with lore and angles that could bring these two together or tear them apart. Could even play with the idea of fated mates. Fine with any sort of pairings here and playing either role.

[itsgirlcraft]

Heyoooo :D back at it with a double helping of Stevetember!!

Today I bring you day 16: offering, ft. RQ Light and Shy, and day 26: lackey, ft. My Red Steve OC and SS Nightmare!

So first is day 16!! Took some quotes from ep 42 (?) of RQ with this! Light n Shy my beloveds..,. Shy is the left half, Light is on the right! It's fun trying to figure out how to "translate" each half across to the other one. Yknow, keep his body type and face the same without making either one look strange.

And the other one! Okay so this OC, her name's B, has a funny story around her- she's actually from a goofy ahh dream I had!

So basically Nightmare ended up on this floating island in the sky, where he has this lab facility. He experimented and created B there, sorta like Positive and Negative's whole bit, but B is just a Red Steve. However, she has really big, long ears- longer than even Nightmare's. Eventually she found out about his past evils, and rebelled against him.

But since she's still quite new, and thus doesn't know much about the world, she can't leave the island. Instead, she hides in the maintenance shafts, sabotaging his work. I decided to interpret her as being a hybrid of a Rainbow Quest Red Steve and a Steve Saga Red Steve, though the dream didn't actually explain her origins.

But that's just HER backstory, that I kinda added onto after I woke up. The actual dream was a lot more vague. So, at first, we're watching these two groups going through this incredibly long, straight, dark tunnel together. But some invisible barrier kept the two groups from actually touching, but they could still talk with one another. But here's- here's the thing. So, group A consisted of: Steve Saga Galaxy, Steve Saga Rainbow, Steve Saga Sabre, Twisted Rainbow Elite (Shadow Sabre form), AND Luna the dog from Alux Rising. Group B...was literally the exact same, except gender swapped. I remember genderswap!Rainbow wearing this really pretty white dress with these colorful splotches on it, like this:

With the colors all mixing and stuff, it was smoother than this, tho. And the two groups are trying to figure out 1, why there's two of them, and 2, how to get outta this tunnel. But then they come to the end of it finally, but it somehow leads into Nightmare's facility. When they get out of the tunnel, it vanishes behind them.

The non-swapped group ends up getting caught by Nightmare and TR Assistant Steve, who is somehow working for him?? And B sees the gender swapped group and teams up with them to rescue the others. As Nightmare takes the others, he says something about "catching that elf-eared Red Steve," and something about "S+M"??

I interpreted M as, ofc, TR M, since Elite was there. Perhaps M had been friendly with B, and then Night captured him and reworked/fixed Assistant so he'd listen to Nightmare only. And so the dream ended with the one group getting captured, and B meeting the gender swapped group. I added onto it, that B explained herself down in the maintenance shafts first. Then they made a plan of rescue. Once they escaped, they talked more about what was happening, and that M was trying to break Assistant out of Nightmare's control.

[softfem-dom]

just being delulu about hybrid!outsiders au, you're just a young wealthy woman that has her life solved thanks to being the heir to your father's succesful bussiness. You just have to sit around in your desk, in your huge countryhouse, and do some stupid paperwork. You just have to sign and aprove and decline and repeat, easy, right? Well, you are really starting to dislike the utter silence in your house. Everything is too quiet and too empty and you sure as hell ain't gonna have kids anytime soon without a partner. So you head up to the locel hybrid kennel, because it's better than adopting and paying for pure breed dogs when there are ones about to be sacrified. And then, once you enter, you're greeted by the sight of a lot of hybrids in pitiful conditions. Mostly males. So you head up to the closest worker and ask "which is the one that is closer to being sacrified?" and the man simply points towards a small cage with a tan-skinned hybrid (that looked scared out of his mind) "that one" he replies nonchantaly.

So you go and try and adopt that stray Greyhound hybrid, named Johnny, only for other dogs to start barking at you. Seemingly, to get Johnny you had to get Dallas—a Canary Mastiff—. And to get Dallas you had to get Two-Bit—a Siberian Husky—. And to get Two-Bit you had to get Steve—a Weimaraner—. And to get Steve you had to get Sodapop—a Golden Retriever—. And to get Soda you had to get Ponyboy—a Belgian Tervurem—. And to get Ponyboy you had to get Darry—a German Shepherd—. Basically, they were an inter-breed pack and either you got them all or you got none. And, against your better judgement and because you couldn't just let them be sacrified —because you were sensitive like that, damn—, you ended up taking them all in.

—Wich was at both the best decission of your life and the worst mistake you've ever made—.

,,

Darry was goddamn glad you had agreed to take them all in, mainly because you were more-or-less his age and he was no longer the only figure of authority in the group. He was the most helpful, often offering to help you wash the dishes or cook lunch.

Johnny was the most shy one of them all, he had a guarded nature and it seemed something had happened to make him all-the-more anxious and wary around new people. However, he seems to be taking a liking to you by the way he usually drops on his knees under your desk whenever you're working and rests his head on your lap —more often-than-not playing around with your skirt or pants—.

Ponyboy was the youngest, but surpsisingly not the most hyper despite still being practically a puppy. He's very smart and will often correct you just to (affectionately) get on your nerves, he also likes to read your books so you better keep anything with inapropiate content out of his reach if you don't want an earful from his brother Darry.

The most hyper price is won by both Sodapop and Two-Bit, they're just two overeager hybrids that are completely ecstatic about living in your house —often sticking their noses where they shouldn't, but oh well. Soda is very hyper, constantly orbiting around you and asking about everything you do —even when you're just cooking and he has seen Darry cook plenty of time before, he just wants you to talk to him—. There are no thoughts™ inside his pretty head, and also the most reactive to praise. Just slip in a "good boy" or "such a good job!" and he's melting into a puddle of goo in the floor, tail wagging furiously. Two-Bit is hyper too, but more on the restless side of the spectrum. He just needs distractions, put on mickey mouse on the TV or give him a newspaper to tear apart and he's all good 👍.

Steve is more.. on the reserved side, a little more grumpy and stubborn —and the only one to have ever flared his teeth at you—. It's not that he doesn't like you, at the contrary:; he damn loves you for taking the whole gang in, but that's just his personality. He'll show how grateful he is by helping you out in subtle things, like picking up the toys from the others and placing them all in one place so you don't go crazy when it's time to put them in their box, or by making sure no one —Dallas— steals anything personal from you.

Dallas is the biggest deal out of them all though, he's just completely unhinged. He doesn't follow your rules and is constantly going out of his way just to do specifically what you told him not to —thank god that Darry's there to keep him in his place from time to time—. He's a total bastard, and is always being a bitch about things and also always saying comments about your body and how hot you are. Also you're pretty sure a few panties of yours have gone missing.. But, in the end, at least your house is not empty anymore, neither silent, constantly echoed in: "mommy!" that's Johnny. "ma'!" that one's Steve. "mommaaaa!" that's Ponyboy complaining about something, no doubts. "miss mommy!" those two are, no doubt, Two-Bit and Soda. "mama~" that damn sing-song tone is Dallas'. And yes, Johnny, you can read him a book even though he's clearly able to do it himself. Yes, Steve, you know where his shirt is, but he can't go around shirtless like that.Yes, Ponyboy, you can give him a can of coke even tho he's obviously able to get it himself. Yes, Soda and Two-Bit, you can put the channel in which they stream mickey mouse™ even if they already know which it is. And yes—oh, actually no, Dallas, you won't shower him, he can do it himself.

SORRY THE DELULU HIT HARD 😭

[blueinkphantom]

c!drunznoblade?

happily :D

also because VoidPigeon's tloz art of rivals duo restarted zoomies about the AU i had with drunznoblade in a zelda universe, we are gonna mix it :D

Quick Sumary: Days after the Evil had been defeated, not all worries are yet gone, some keeping one of the saviours awake late into the night.

Among the three of them, it wasn't rare for someone to have some issues regarding sleep. Be it Techno who sometimes couldn't even be woken up by his giant dog Steve pushing him off the bed, Punz who had a 25% success chance of falling asleep or Dream who either struggled with falling asleep or staying asleep as restlessness persisted.

A lot of times, it had helped to stay near each other. Something that was easier to do away from the castle where it wasn't seen as inproper for the Prince of Hyrule to rest in the same bed as their Hero and his companion. Not that they really listened to it while in the castle.

This time, Dream finds, even that didn't help. No matter what, his mind keeps circling around the same thoughts. Around the same worries. He can feel the warmth of his lovers next to him. He can feel Punz's tail wrapped around his leg and Techno's tusks slightly digging into his skin, still his mind conjurs up scenarious in which they failed. Scenarious where Punz and him got slain, leaving Hyrule in ruins and Techno captured. Scenarious where evil raises again so quickly after its defeat. What if the kingdom was already on its way to being taken over while they laid there. He had to-

His attempt to get up and check got stopped by a pink hoof grabbing onto his arm gently and keeping it down. "Why are you still up, Dream?" Blue eyes were open and staring at him. There was a haze over them, bits of sleepiness clinging on.

"Can't sleep."

"Why not? Anything wrong?"

Dream, hesitated. "Not really."

"But?"

"It's probably nothing. Just needless worries. I think i should still check quickly." He tries to get up again but Techno doesn't budge.

"It's fine. There's nothing there anymore. Trust me." Dream still glances to the window showing the dark night sky. "Look, I dont got the Triforce of widsom for nothing. I'd know if there was something again. Just like i got these voices warning me before the first time. We're fine."

There's a kiss placed on his neck, hands saking around him. "Tech's right, Dreamie. Everything's fine. You can rest. But if you'd prefer, we could take a walk. Get some energy out." The check so your brain knows everything is alright goes unspoken.

Dream nods and Punz is up a second later, holding a hand out to both the pig hybrid and the bunny hybrid, each receiving a kiss on the forehead (which both lowered their heads for). They quickly changed into something more suitable before heading out into the cold night air, weapons still ready in case and hands held together.

[alienwritestoo]

Legend Reborn

Technoblade is a legend on the QSMP. His deeds are ballads sung in the festive streets of the favela, chronicle of dedication inspiring the monumental stretch of potatoes growing on the wall and tales of hard-won battles uplifting the fight against the worst government known yet.

Sometimes, an unusually large Cucurucho can be found at the shrine dedicated to his memory, fingering a singular emerald earring.

The crown before him gleamed with familiar, unfulfilled purpose.

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

Technoblade left the DSMP when he deemed Dream’s oppressive server free from the tyranny of governments, forever meant to be more than the sums of suppressive never meant to bes and unfinished symphonies. The tundra that once shielded armies of dogs and withers soon swarmed with the metaphorical winds of adventure, melting the cold heart he developed to survive on this server with its dangerous consequences, urging him onward to his next quest.

The piglin hybrid felt comfortable moving on, like his older brother had, towards an inexplicable future. He trusted his old man Philza to look after anyone who still stayed on the server, especially those who would no longer accept his help.

Philza stood with Steve at the gate to see him off, waving softly while his eyes burned with pride and unshed tears. The older warrior promised himself that he would make the old immortal never worry about one of his sons ever again, the only remaining to make it through the harrowing experience of DSMP mostly unscathed. His father surely trusted him, and only him, to survive despite all the world could throw at him. He would not let him down.

His fur prickled as he followed the warm breeze to warmer climates, ripping away government after government in his path onwards to an unknown ultimate prize. The governments there quickly realized he was coming, hastily setting up assassinations and armies to disway him. Yet Techno persisted, striding unceremoniously into rebellious camps who quickly accepted his tutelage to overthrow sure tyranny. It was a walk in the park after the annoyance it had been L’Manberg, that had been backed by an mask-cladded Admin until it miraculously switched to his side.And besides, even if Tubbo had been a weak president, the sting of Tommy betraying him stung like nothing else. 

The king of Antarctica wasn’t meant to get so close to the desert, but Technoblade would make the world realize otherwise. His quest lay south, and then someday he could retire to own a farm. 

In his uncomfortable state, he didn’t see it coming that he would be cowardly captured on an assuming night in a desert village near the sea. The anarchist had no time to react, huffing with outraged growls towards an unseeing assailant who didn’t react to a single hit from him as his humble lodgings wavered in his vision. Another Admin had taken interest in him, not even bothering to show its face as it continued to invisibly rain down potions of harming with impassioned precision. He continued to struggle for agonizing minutes with blood pouring out of his mouth and staining his tusks.

Technoblade’s face paled at the predicament he was in as he finally collapsed, lumbering form falling to his knees as his kidnapper removed the crown from his head like they were taking a toy from a toddler.

The piglin hybrid later woke to a cell of stark, lifeless quartz, with nothing but an orange jumpsuit to his name. Soon after, he lost himself to a haze of interrogations and treatments that turned him into something else, a creature with red eyes that eventually passed all the tests except-

He could never manage to speak, in support nor against the federation. It was the only rebellion he had left, as a duck creature handed him a clipboard and gave him his first task.

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

Philza knew there were multiple Cucuruchos. The immortal had seen Chayanne slink back into the bunker from “night school” enough times, and glimpsed more than one of the white-furred creatures poking into the islanders’ business. Not the career path he would’ve encouraged for his adventurous egg, but the once-famed Angel of Death knew they had little choice in the matter.

Other than the times he saw Cucurucho-Chayanne, there was just one other that bothered him deep down.

One of the newer Cucuruchos was especially odd in comparison to the rest. The creature appeared when Luzu logged on with his binary code messages that oozed of sudden warnings, lumbering behind a pair of regular Cucuruchos with glinting red eyes. It towered over its cousins with muscle, wielding axes and crossbows rather than the classic gun. Tubbo, who was newer to the island but had managed to typically outmaneuver the creatures, had frozen inexplicably at the fireworks lining the crossbows it handled with ease.

Etoiles had gaped when the creature had joined the battle with an arsenal of old school vanilla weapons against three fake eggs, and carried.

“What the fuck?” Cellbit exclaimed as he examined the photo Pomme had taken of the newer creature. The detective looked like he wanted to drink vodka at its looming presence in PVP, only calming with Roier’s reassuring palm on his shoulder.

“No mames!” Roier shook his head in agreement. “This fucking sucks, man.”

“Why are there more of them?” Baghera questioned with a frown. “Why would they need one so big? Is it an intimidation tactic?”

Philza let the conversations wash over him as the order deliberated over what the new creature’s presence meant. The crow hybrid held a photograph in his hand, fingering the emerald earring it wore on its ear. It was the same exact style to his, a piece of jewelry that had been a mystery to him since his arrival to the island.

The old immortal remembered much of his past in comparison to the rest of the islanders. He was the only one to willingly volunteer, able to bargain with the foreboding federation to retain most of his memories.

Philza didn’t remember what he gave up, but he had his suspicions when his memories tried to tell him he never had any family. His heart pulsed with a heart thrumming with power his soul knew had been gifted, making him never age as long as he didn't die in combat. When he first joined the island, the man found a bag of blue dye tied together with a fancy ribbon and a note saying “calm yourself, have some blue”. None of these items had an explanation, especially the emerald earring that swung on his ear-

Until now. 

“Does he want to die?” Etoiles inserted as the group gravitated around the corpse of one of the codes, pulling Philza out of his thoughts. “I can give it the gift death if Cucurucho doesn’t want to live anymore?” 

His throat hissed automatically, eyes flashing as his mind keys in on the emerald the large creature wore somehow just right.

Multiple pairs of eyes whip over to him. “Woah there, what was that Philza?” Badboyhalo asked.

Philza blinked when he realized he had reacted instinctively to a threat against flock. He swallowed uselessly to calm himself down, angry clicks echoing up into the air instead. Unable to speak, he jerked his head towards the photograph and pointed a sharped clawed hand towards the creature.

“Oh shit guys.” Jaiden spoke up, a fellow bird hybrid. “Philza’s bird instincts think that the new Cucurucho is a part of his flock. Better not hurt the guy until we actually know he’s bad, if we don’t want the case of an angry crow hybrid on our hands.”

“If that’s the case, Maybe we shouldn’t attempt to attack or harm this Cucurucho until we know more about him.” Maximus concluded, looking at Cellbit who looked very tense but gave a reluctant nod.

The group eventually decided to only observe the new federation creature. The crow hybrid’s hackles raised when he noticed Cellbit, Etoiles, and Baghera didn’t explicitly agree to not harm it, but life soon went back to normal for a few weeks when nothing unusual happened. 

They noticed the creature had an weirdly normal and routine schedule, easily trackable in how it simply sparred in the middle of the battle dome every morning and built for the Federation in the afternoons following a checklist it regularly squinted at. Philza had to shove down the urge to hand it a pair of glasses when he occasionally approached on Cellbit's behalf to see its tasklist. It never tried to spy or speak to them, content to swing its archaic sword at practice dummies and occasionally amuse the eager Etoiles. 

“It's the best monster I’ve ever fought, Philza!” Etolies praised highly one day as they ran into each other at the front of what used to be Las Sacapuntas. “Battling with him is more interesting than anything else on the island except spending time with Pomme because she is my daughter and therefore automatically makes her the best thing to ever happen to anyone and I will kill anyone who says otherwise.” The French player grinned with teeth.

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Philza laughed genuinely at his friend's strange humor, watching the warrior leave as quickly as he came with a fond shake to his head before he teleported to his own base on top of the wall.

That evening, Philza blinked when he spotted the creature outside of schedule by Techno’s shrine, wiping the dirt from his eyes as he stood up from his potato farm.

The hulking Cucurucho looked up from his vigil, turning away from where a crown sat in display on an armor stand. The creature's eyes glinted with a dark red color that strangely made him feel calm and collected.

“Hey mate.” Philza greeted him, wiping the dirt from his hands with spider silk. “Do you know who that is?”

The creature nodded curtly, not speaking nor turning to write in a book.

“He was one of my best friends.” The crow hybrid stipulated as he approached. “A great warrior, much like yourself.” He stood next to the creature. “Mostly I just know him as Techno, and as one of the most compassionate people I ever knew." He craned his head up, gauging the creature's interest in their conversation. "You know why?”

The hulking mass cocked his head, grunting. Philza took that as encouragement to continue.

“Hypixel skyblock was terribly going through a famine before Techno made the potato war happen. You see Cucurucho, even though they're the top server and could've simply asked for help, not many people knew Hypixel actually had food shortages because the number one server doesn’t like people knowing they fucked up." He snorts. "So naturally, my friend took it upon himself to solve the food problem for them. Techno never liked people starving, my so-” He choked, panicking at the unconscious wording. “...Friend.”

The creature reaches towards Philza’s emerald earring with a strange chuff. The old man’s mind translates it reflexively to mean question, curiosity. 

“I don’t know what it is, mate.” Philza admitted. “Do you know where you got yours?” For a split second he wonders if the creature stole it, but the idea drains away as the creature shakes his head with an air of confusion.

Cucurucho took a few steps back. He looked at the shrine with an unreadable expression, but his red eyes were so expressive. 

“I know this is weird to ask, since you're a federation worker and all but… do I know you?” Philza couldn’t help himself. Why does his instincts see this Cucurucho, out of all of them wandering the server, as his son? 

Cucurucho huffed, turning away from him unceremoniously before hopping off the edge of the wall. 

Philza leaned back on his hoe in the potato farm for support, stopping himself from following with a panic similar to one of his eggs in danger. The old immortal wanted to talk to it again soon, chest winding up with longing to connect to this unknown creature. 

“Dinner’s ready!” Missa called in the distance from the house, likely serving something Chayanne cooked up for his family of four. Philza blinked back unexpected tears when he realized it was potato night, the memories of inexplicable pink fur and comforting chuffs raw against his chest, before collecting himself to have a quiet evening with his anticipating two eggs and husband.

[fandomfluffandfuck]

Puppy boy Steve not in the omegaverse way just in the kinky way oh my god- hot shit.

perhaps related to this gif set? this has been in my inbox for a long time, so idk, oops

also, I hope you don't mind, but I'm linking this ask with this other one I got more recently

which is related to this

the post reads, "i need a dogboy bending me over and rutting against me crying and whining to let them fuck me because theyre so hard it hurts and theyve been such a good dog havent they? dont they deserve a little reward. cmere puppy fill me up youre such a good dog arent you? cmon you can even cum in me if you beg for it <3"

Ask 1) I fucking agree! And I have puppy boy shit for Steve! I have a lot 😮‍💨😮‍💨

Ask 2) YES! I was thinking stucky thoughts when I queued that post!!

As for what I have...

(some of these are just puppy play, the werewolf stuff is literal puppy, some are puppy-human-hybrid like Buckitty, and a few are omegaverse, too. All the flavors of puppy Steve, lol)

Soft Puppy Steve HCs Puppy Interview w/ Fun Afterward Werewolf Steve? More Like Puppy Steve Puppy Steve In Rut Buckitty & Puppy Steve In The 40s (mostly @/possibleplatypus, though, lol) Puppy Alpha Steve Puppy Alpha Steve Fisting Dom Omega Bucky High-Tech & Slobbery Puppy Steve Puppy Steve Discovering His Puppiness

Now... *cracks knuckles* more puppy Steve

"Please pleasepleaseplease," Steve is a goddamn puddle on top of him. Just a hot, soaked blanket laid out over Bucky's body. Steve is in a careless sprawl because he doesn't have enough brain cells to control himself. That's why all his movements are jerky and desperate and hold no fucking finesse whatsoever. He's pure instinct, chasing pleasure with his tongue lolling out of his mouth, drooling, and his eyes rolling to the back of his head. Hot for everything. His whole body is blushing. When he's so far gone like he is now--a handful of orgasms deep and still rutting it out for more--everything fucking turns him on. Bucky could do whatever he wanted to him like this and the big, dumb lump of need so eager to get off would eat it up. He's so eager to please.

"Please what," Bucky emphasizes, digging his hand into Steve's hip while the other holds a lube-soaked fleshlight between their bodies. That's what Steve's plowing right now, a fleshlight, doing his fucking best to fuck it until it's loose despite the resilience of the smooth, string silicone that keeps letting go of his cock with obscene squelching noises. There's more than enough tingling, heating lube poured inside of it, making a mess of Steve's cock and dripping down to his balls and over his quivering thighs. Bucky's already plenty loose from the first few rounds himself, so he's more than sated, he's just enjoying his evening at this point, sprawled out, humming to himself, relaxed, and holding Steve's dirty little toy for him. He's just waiting for Steve to be done. He's never done. He's got a fucking nuclear-powered sex drive, Bucky swears. "What is it, you silly puppy?"

"Mmmmmngh, mmgh, ngh!" Steve makes a bunch of useless fucking noises before he can wrangle his mouth in enough to get his lips and teeth and tongue to work somewhat together, admitting as he ruts instinctively, chasing the sucking tight channel in front of him, meant for pleasure, "I, oh, I-! It huuurts!"

Bucky feels his lips pull into a splitting, mean grin. He lets go of Steve's hip in favor of throwing that arm behind his head, stretching out and getting casual, as if he's not at all invested in Steve losing himself inside a damn fleshlight. "You don't like your new toy, puppy?" He asks, cocking his head to one side.

"Nnngh," Steve's eyelashes flutter obscenely, struggling to fuck and process words at the same time. He's so useless it's fucking adorable. "N-no," he battles to get the words out, but then he can't seem to stop, chanting, "I like it, I like it, I like it--"

Bucky just fucking laughs, "are you sure, silly boy? It doesn't sound like you do if it hurts." He feigns like he might pull away and not let him keep going if apparently it hurts. That makes Steve whimper so loud it almost hurts Bucky's ears. Damn puppy. He leaves the fleshlight where it is, melting Steve down into fucking nothing. Just stupid and needy. "Don't know what you want, do you?" He teases.

Steve shakes his head, then nods.

Bucky has no idea if he even knows what his head is doing. He might just be going limp, letting his hips do all the work as the only thing moving. His rhythm is fucking terrible, all erratic and selfish. If he were fucking Bucky still, it wouldn't be enough to get Bucky off, but, hey, Steve doesn't give a fuck. He's just a useless, untrained puppy. It's surprising he's gone this long without cumming again since he's obviously so new to the art of fucking, untrained, but... he has had enough Steve-gasms already that it's possible he's fucking empty. Maybe he doesn't have any more to give. Maybe he's just too stupid to notice that it's not pleasure but overstimulation keeping him hard. A puppy running after a treat, no other thoughts in his head to keep him from looking out if he's about to walk into a wall or trip over a toy or anything.

Pure pleasure. Simple. That's all he needs.

"I, I like it," Steve wheedles, his voice all high and pathetic.

"Mm, yeah, I can see that," Bucky hums, pretending his bored while he squeezes the fleshlight as tightly as he can.

"AH!" Steve almost fucking screams at the sudden added stimulation.

He's a goddamn picture. Strung-out and defenseless. Bucky can do anything to him, poor. little. puppy.

"It hurts?" Bucky unkindly parrots what Steve was trying to say before he had more interest in torturing him, just a little. Not enough to hurt anyone. Just for fun. Just because why not? It's hot a shit anyway.

"It huh-hurts!" Steve agrees unthinkingly.

"Do you wanna stop, then?" Bucky, again, pretends like he's ready to take away Steve's favorite bone for fear of him swallowing the last remaining part of it and hurting himself.

"No!" He wails.

"Why not?"

"C-can't, nngh, uhng! Can't!"

"Why not, puppy? Why can't you stop?"

"'M hard."

"You're hard, okay? What about it?"

"S-so, so hard. I can't stop."

"Aw, poor puppyyy," Bucky strings out, carding his fingers through Steve's sweaty blonde mop of hair like he's petting him, "it hurts but you're hard and you can't stop," he echoes much to Steve's whimper of embarrassment. "What a predicament you're in. Tsk tsk," Bucky clicks his tongue, "such a hard life!"

"Mmmmgh, mmm-hmm!" Steve whines his agreement with Bucky's ficticious statements. He's too gone for anything as complex as sacrasm.

Bucky loves him like this. He loves his dumb, horny puppy so bad. It's so fucking good.

"You're so dumb, puppy. Spoiled and dumb. You're getting that cock wet and you're getting to cum again and again and you're complaining? Ugh. The nerve of you, puppy." Bucky razzes him, flicking the tip of his nose just to see Steve flinch and his face melt back into mindless, slack pleasure after the surprise.

When his words finally fucking register, Steve just moans, agonized.

"Are you sorry, puppy?" Bucky teases.

Steve nods sloppily, drooling just that much more. The big, dumb animal.

"Then, where are my apologies?"

"'M, I'm sorryyy, s-sorry," he mewls.

"Good boy."

Steve shakes all over.

"And what about my pretty thank yous?"

Through a heaving sob Steve frantically chatters, "thank you thank youthankyou!"

"There it is. Good pup."

Steve hiccups through another cry, still fucking plowing forward because, really, that's all he knows. It's the only thing he can do. It's perfectly in his nature. Squirmy, greedy little hedonist too simple to look forward to the future, just completely obsessed with now, now, now.