#just throwin out ideas

[quartergremlin]

Please ignore this if any of these would reveal spoilers for anything you’re working on but I have a few questions regarding the clarification comic. Is Casey Jr eventually born into the good timeline too? If so would he basically be bad timeline Casey’s little brother? I don’t know if you ever said if Casey Jr is afab (I can’t remember if you ever confirmed either way) would he lay eggs too since he’s technically half turtle? He looks pretty human but are there any other surprising turtle traits? Also do you see any of the other brothers having kids in the good timeline?

okay, so

if raph and cass had kids in this timeline I think that they would be completely different people due to circumstances. would they look the same? maybe? more likely than not CJ and any potential other children would be like any other siblings. sometimes they look extremely similar sometimes they don't! i guess that's a really long way to say no. sorry!

i suppose I've answered this one, yes!

i haven't said either way and I haven't decided either. it mostly just depends on if it would be funnier for him to be afab or amab in the moment (if I don't just make him intersex). as for eggs! I'm going to say yes if it applies, but probably a lot less than the turtles lay....

i always forget to draw little details, but he does have little scales on his shoulders and elbows! he does have a shell that I've drawn before, but the scutes are really thin and more like a softshell shell, even though raph is his ma.

5. I've thought about this a little bit! i don't think donnie would have his own kids. i think how many raph and cass would have would depend a lot on how many brownies are around, but they'd be very comfortable with a full house. it is possible (very very rarely) for some reptiles to have kids even if the eggs arent fertilized, so I think mikey would have a few? they'd probably want at least one kid.

leo?ㄟ( ▔, ▔ )ㄏ no idea. tho he and yuichi both come from pretty big families.... it would probably feel weird with less people around, huh.

[waterfallofspace]

A Game Of Chess

When D/azai starts a game with C/huuya, he wins it. But will round two turn out differently, or will the King claim his Pawn once more?

So the wonderful @onetrickponi requested something from b/sd with ~this post~ as the inspiration.

I decided to go with S/oukoku, so here's a little two-part game of chess, two different situations where this phrase may occur.

Characters: C/huuya, D/azai and A/kutagawa (briefly over the phone) Word Count, Total: 4.8k Part One, Check: 2.3k Part Two, Mate: 2.4k

(CW: Swearing, sexual themes, character with the kink. No technical smut action happens, but it's quite heavily implied!)

~~~ Check ~~~

Ask anyone in the Port Mafia, and they’re sure to agree; Chuuya is a force to be reckoned with. One that, most will add, shouldn’t be reckoned with. And yet, he’s neither the king of the Port Mafia chess army, nor the queen. 

“Instead,” Dazai continues, taking pride in the pronounced groan from the couch next to him. Seems his talents have been wasted preparing mere witty retorts. A long drawn out monologue serves to coax an entirely new type of annoyance. “You’re more of a pawn. A mighty pawn! But, a pawn nonetheless.” 

“Watch it, you may be able to stop gravity manipulation, but you aren’t immune to other forms of violence.” Chuuya growls, hat sliding forward as he springs to his feet. He corrects it with a single hand, the other glove waving in frantic, yet meaningless, patterns. 

“Oh Chuuya, you have something planned? I knew you cared! See, I’ve been planning ways to bring you down a peg,” Dazai pauses to meet Chuuya’s rolling eyes with a wink, “for years now.” 

“What a load of-” 

“And yet, here I was thinking you didn’t care enough to do the same!” He pauses again, feigning hurt with a hand draped over his forehead in a gesture that can only be described as dramatic. A word often associated with the heart-of-gold, soul-of-grey, detective. “But it turns out I was wrong, Chuuya always car-” 

“AHK’SHHaa! Christ.”  

Chuuya cracks a grin behind his fist as the outburst nearly knocks Dazai off the counter he’d placed himself on. An onlooker would assume it was the ferocity of the sternutation, perhaps the volume. It wouldn’t be an unfounded guess. Chuuya’s not exactly one for subtlety, although he’d like to believe he can control them when needed. 

They’d be wrong. 

Being used to gunshots, like he is, the volume was practically nothing. Surprise could be another assumption, though it would once again be incorrect. While Dazai didn’t see it coming, he’s never been one to jump at unforeseen circumstances. It’s simply not his nature. 

And besides- 

“AESHH’ah!” 

-despite seeing Chuuya’s nose twitch, his brows furrow, and hearing the gasp catch in his throat, Dazai’s whole body trembles once more in time with the sneeze. 

“Oh dear, Chuuya will wake the neighbours at this rate!” 

It’s a bluff, and they both know it. A well thought out maneuver, disguised as a simple taunt. Meant to control the situation, a strategic move, like a chess piece gliding across the board.  

“AKSHH’iuh!” Chuuya straightens up, glove still pressed to his nose. There’s a beat of silence, Dazai’s annoyance monologue temporarily paused. He seems at a loss for words, breath coming a little quicker than a moment ago.

Unfortunately Chuuya doesn’t get to revel in it for long, the shift in his sinuses presenting an urgent distraction. “Pass the tissues, would ya?” 

Without a word, Dazai drops from the counter. As his footsteps fade off into the kitchen, Chuuya allows himself a single heady sniffle. As expected, it’s deeply irritating, both in noise and reaction. The itch that’s been taking its time spreading through his face suddenly hones in on his nose, increasing with every shaky breath. 

“AESHHiew! AKZSHH’aa! Oh Christ… hiH– AMFSHH!” 

Using his gloves isn’t exactly what Chuuya had intended, but hell. It’s better than aiming at the floor. Much as he may enjoy Dazai’s reaction to that display, the other detectives don’t deserve such indecencies.

“EMSFHHh!” Not to mention, the improperness of the act is more Dazai’s particular brand of infuriating. “Speaking of the asshole, when is… AEMFSH’ah! mon dieu. When is that bastard gonna get ba-” 

“Talking to yourself, one of the first signs of insanity, Chuuya.” Dazai calls, a smirk dancing across his face as Chuuya jumps.

“The first sign of insanity is- hH’AKZSH’aa!” He manages to duck to the side, wheeling back around with a glare. “Is the fact I’m wasting my breath talking to you.” 

“Oh dear, was that supposed to be a comeback? It lacks a bit of the wit a good retort should possess.” Dazai mocks, a smile dripping of bitter humour crossing his cheeks. “Seems Chuuya’s tongue isn’t quite as fierce as his glare.” And with that, Dazai leans against the wall, a tissue box still in his hand. 

In the time it had taken for him to walk to the supply closet and back, his entire demeanor had shifted. As simple as changing clothes, he’d replaced the off balance vulnerability with a controlled posture of dominance.  

Still trapped behind his hand, Chuuya finds his knees starting to weaken. It was clear what direction this interaction would be taking. While it wasn’t something he’d planned, it was certainly welcome nonetheless. 

“Well are you gonna hand them over or what?” Chuuya replies, a snarl creeping along his lip as his nose threatens to retaliate against the delay. Despite being pressed against the fabric lining his hand, it seems desperate for further relief. 

“Perhaps.” 

“Then hurry up, you bastard. I… hh– I hhhave to… hhAHh–” 

Dazai lunges forward, the movement sudden enough to trigger a fight or flight response. It takes every ounce of Chuuya’s willpower not to lash out as Dazai, in one fluid motion, grabs onto his wrist and pulls it away from his face. 

“Not yet,” Dazai hums, eyes alight. It seems the games have begun; with Chuuya at a deeply itchy disadvantage. Already down his queen by the second move. 

Dazai's been careful to avoid Chuuya’s bare skin, despite his ability working quite easily through clothing. It’s a hint to the nature of the game they’re playing. Each move will be calculated, each touch laced with intention. 

“aEHh–” Chuuya manages to starve it off with a sharp exhale, his body rapidly beginning to tremble as the power seeps from his veins into Dazai’s grip.

It’s not an entirely unpleasant feeling, some wouldn’t even notice. It’s not like the action of removing the gift has a sensation, it’s more… the lack of sensation as the power drains away. To someone like Chuuya, who almost constantly maintains a slight flow of their gift, it’s hard to miss. 

“Not as vocal,” comes the next command, Dazai’s grip loosening enough for one finger to trail down Chuuya’s arm, reaching the bare skin between his sleeve and his glove. The touch is cold, a gasp nearly escaping Chuuya’s tightened lips. 

“It’s nhehh– not gonna be easy,” Chuuya lets his eyes shut for just a second, savouring the sweet relief that the false depiction of privacy offers. The promise that when they open again, he’ll be free to release every itch. 

Dazai breaks the spell in a single move, the relief quickly replaced with overwhelming irritation. Chuuya’s eyes fall open in time with his mouth as he finds Dazai’s chocolate gaze awaiting his arrival. Nose still pressed against his, the smirk Dazai’s wearing is felt, more than seen. 

“My my, Chuuya. Your nose is so warm!” Dazai coos, leaning back to demonstrate by running a finger against his own nose, then back over to Chuuya’s. Biting his lip is the only way Chuuya keeps from moaning. Even Dazai touching his own nose seems to tickle. 

“hiEHh– D-Dazai…” 

“And,” Dazai continues, Chuuya’s breath catching in his throat. “It’s practically quivering. Chuuya must need to sneeze something awful. I wonder what could be causing this? Hmm, let’s see…” 

Trailing off, Dazai lets his eyes scan the room. It’s for dramatic effect, he already knows. There’s no doubt he’s known since the moment Chuuya walked in. It’s unlikely he planned for it, considering the earlier reaction, but there’s no question he caught on fast. 

The distraction gives Chuuya enough time to scrunch his nose, a desperate attempt to satiate the ever deepening urge. The action has quite the opposite effect however, a moan slipping past Chuuya’s tongue before he can catch it. 

“What was that, Chuuya?” Dazai hums, the action blowing a soft wind against Chuuya’s nose. It nearly tips the scales, only a frantic clench of the jaw allows him to control the burning need. His nostrils flare greedily, aching for another touch, something to give them the ability to overpower his will. 

“I’m… I’m gohhnna sneeze-” Chuuya manages to gasp out, his lips parting in a snarl, breath starting to come faster, chest beginning to tighten with his eyes–

“Did I say you could?” 

And just like that, the reaction stalls. A tear slides down his cheek, Chuuya nearly whining as Dazai’s cold touch wipes it away, a finger brushing the bridge of his nose. It feels as if his entire face is lit up, the flush on the tips of his ears beginning to match his nose. 

“I dohh… don’t think I… I caahhh– hEDT!  I can’t…” More stutters fall out, each word only delaying the inevitable. The sneeze is coming, and despite his best efforts, Chuuya knows there’s no fighting it. Not anymore. 

“No.” 

And still, somehow, despite the overwhelming desire, the unavoidable trembling, the greedy flaring, Chuuya feels his teeth clench. That command was firm, undeniable, and direct. He is not allowed to sneeze. 

Words die on his tongue, even the idea of parting his lips leaves him breathless. Once he allows a touch of air through, there will be more than words spilling out. Determined to maintain composure, he feels the world start to slip into a light fog. 

“Don’t hold your breath,” Dazai hums, giving Chuuya’s wrist a light squeeze. With a poorly contained gasp, Chuuya begins to pant. “You didn’t even notice, did you?” 

Chuuya answers in the form of a watery glare, still too itchy to risk words. Dazai’s fingers relax, dropping Chuuya’s wrist. Without a second thought, Chuuya raises it back to his nose, moaning at the relief the harsh touch offers. 

“AESH’NGKT! Merde-” 

His other hand quickly slips to his face, only managing to half-stifle the sudden burst. The allergic tears lining his eyes begin to pour over, his nose greedy for a full release. If anything, the stifle only served to make it worse. 

“I don’t believe I gave you permission for that,” Dazai starts, fingers beginning to trace up Chuuya’s neck, wrapping around his choker. Chuuya’s teeth pierce into his lip, knees weakening once more. “Though, maybe I’ll allow it. Seems it didn’t do anything to relieve that miserable tickle. I’ll even allow one more!” 

Without a second thought, Chuuya lets Dazai pull his head closer, aiming for a bandaged shoulder as the– “ANGKT!” brings him a moment of relief. From his position against Dazai’s chest, Chuuya lets a smirk flash across his features. Elevated pulse, body trembling in time with each gasp Chuuya takes. 

“I’m being awfully generous here, don’t you think Chuuya?” Dazai purrs, eyes beginning to dance once more as he pushes Chuuya back against the wall, releasing his grasp. “I think you should thank me.” 

From behind his wrist, Chuuya freezes. If he attempts to speak, he won’t be able to hold it back. The dam already broke, the stubborn power of sheer will is fending off the waves. Dazai should know that too… which means this is an indirect invitation to… 

“hieHh–!” 

…or a test. One that letting himself go would immediately fail. Studying Dazai’s expression, Chuuya attempts to navigate his response. The choice is quickly made for him, as Dazai leans forward with a wink. Shivers race down Chuuya’s spine as he feels the breath against his ear. 

“You’ve been quite obedient. Feel free to indulge your own desires now.” 

“AESHH! AK’SHHAA!” The double breaks free with a growl that leaves Dazai trembling almost as hard as Chuuya. Another follows on its heels, then a second, third, fourth, the fit continuing as Dazai’s lip begins to match Chuuya’s. 

“ASHH’aa! Cahhn’t stahh… stop– hH’AEMFSH!” 

A hint of concern passes through Dazai’s eyes as the fit doesn’t seem to let up. “Are you–” 

“AESHHiew! A bid idtchASHH! Idtchy. ADSHH’iuh!” 

“I can see that, or shall I say hear that,” Dazai replies, making a show of covering his ears with a teasing wince. “Might be the last thing I ever get to hear!” 

“Is thad a… ahh– ADTCHh! AESHH’aa! Is thad a complimedt?” Chuuya taunts, pausing to grab a handful of the tissues he’d nearly forgotten about. With a harsh blow, a moan slips out after it. The action lets air flow through his nose once more. “AECHH!” Which of course only serves to agitate it further. 

Dazai rolls his eyes with a smirk, hand finding his way to Chuuya’s thigh. “Only Chibi would think saying someone’s loud is a compliment.” 

“Only you would mean it as one. ASHH’iuh! Fucking Christ.” 

“Switching to English?” Dazai nearly growls, voice lowering with each desperate sneeze. “Is it already that intense?” 

In lieu of a response, Chuuya guides Dazai’s hand up from his thigh, letting the cool fingers brush his warm nose. The touch is excruciating, his chest heaving as he attempts to hold back long enough to get out, “Feel fehh… for yo- hAHhh– for yoursehhhlf.” 

Dazai takes the invitation, tracing each flaring nostril with his index finger, eyes beginning to gloss over nearly as much as Chuuya’s. His breath begins to fall in sync, both of them starting to pant. “Seems so,” Dazai manages to choke out, legs beginning to tremble once more. 

“hH’ASHH! AESCSHH! yeASHH’iuh! YESHH’shaa!” 

Unable to fight it any longer, Dazai leans forward and pulls Chuuya into a greedy kiss, his tongue betraying the depth of his hunger. Chuuya lets himself be swallowed into the embrace, hands finding their way up Dazai’s back to grip his jacket. Together they push back against the wall, intertwined in a beautiful tangle of limbs and tongues. 

Chuuya pulls away first, only managing a sharp gasp before he ducks into Dazai’s shoulder for another harsh– “AETCSHH!” which Dazai blesses with a light moan, pulling Chuuya closer. 

“I’m gonna kiss you again.” 

With a laugh, Chuuya pulls back again, mischief lighting up his eyes. “Did I say you could?” 

Dazai returns the gaze, hunger dripping from his narrowed eyes. “Sadistic, Chuuya.” 

“Shut up and kiss me, bastard.”

~~~ Mate ~~~

Ask anyone in the Armed Detective Agency, and they’ll tell you that Dazai is one of their more valuable assets–

“Yeah, I’m gonna stop you right there,” Chuuya calls from his position resting against the doorway. “The only one who’d call you that is yourself, you smug bastard. The rest of ‘em have enough sense to see you for what you really are.” 

Dazai sighs, letting the paperwork he’d been pretending to fill out for an hour lay abandoned on a desk. A desk that’s certainly not his. Along with a carefully forged note asking Atsushi to fill it out, on behalf of one Kunikida. 

Turning back to the interruption, Dazai gestures vaguely at the empty office. “Then why would they leave me all alone to watch the business? They know I can handle such a task!” He trails off with another performative sigh, sprawling out over his desk. “It’s tiresome, being so crucial and trusted.” 

In response, Chuuya merely huffs a growl, rolling his eyes for what feels like the fifth time in the past ten minutes. 

“Chuuya wouldn’t understand,” Dazai continues with a wink, earning the sixth eye roll. “He’s merely a pawn, while I am a king!” 

“Isn’t the king practically useless?” Chuuya asks, raising an eyebrow incredulously. “The queen does all the work after all.” 

“Ah, a pawn such as yourself would think like that, wouldn’t they?” Spinning in his chair, Dazai catches Chuuya’s eyes with that shit-eating grin that practically screams ‘I’m better than you so I’ll try to dumb this down’. It’s infuriating, and Chuuya finds himself fighting the urge to roll his eyes yet again. 

“While the king may not be on the front lines, his influence is what guides the entire kingdom. Without him, the battle would rage with no cause or order, each piece fighting for themselves. A mere pawn cannot take out a knight with pure strength, he needs a strategy. That’s where the king comes in.” 

“That’s the player, moron,” Chuuya retorts, a new confidence leaving his eyes shining. For once, the high-and-mighty attitude Dazai’s sporting might be all bluster. He mistook the king for the player, a foolish mistake. 

For a minute, just a minute, there’s silence. No witty retort, no smug explanation, just a pause. One hanging thick with deeper meanings, and… something Chuuya would almost call sadness. The look Dazai gives him holds no sense of authority. There’s no superiority in his expression, just a haunting wash of melancholy behind his whiskey soaked eyes. 

Chuuya opens his mouth, just to close it again. No words seem appropriate, not while that look remains on Dazai’s face. A look that suggests something deeper to his meaning that he desperately wished Chuuya would’ve understood. 

The ringing that sounds out knocks Chuuya from his thoughts. His fist connects with the doorframe before he can catch a breath, blood pumping through his ears. “Fucking-!” 

“Chuuya!” Dazai laughs, a cheshire smile smothering the expression that had just occupied that space. Or maybe it was never there at all… “What a foul tongue! And go easy on the offices, would ya? We don’t exactly have the unlimited budget of the Port Mafia. Kunikida will finally have that aneurysm if he finds a hole in the wall.” 

Clutching his phone as it continues to demand attention, Chuuya aims a glare at no one in particular. Not giving Dazai the satisfaction of a direct reply, he snaps open the phone and turns his back to the room. “This is Chuuya.”

The voice starts rambling on about meetings, conferences, deadlines, and something to do with ‘assignment reports missing key details involving jinko’. Digging his fingers into his temple, Chuuya considers hanging up on the kid. 

While there’s no denying his talent in battle, his mannerisms always seem to hit a nerve. A similar nerve to the one Dazai hits, or maybe closer to the sleepless nights where thoughts refuse to give up control.

A combination of everything he hates about himself and Dazai, wrapped up in one human being. Still, it’s hardly like he’s to blame for that. Not like you can hold it against the kid for learning from the role models he was given. 

“Look, Akutagawa, I’m a bit busy at the momen–” Chuuya nearly growls as a noise sounds off behind him, an all too familiar one. Pinching the bridge of his nose, he considers leaping from the window. The only thing stopping him is the prickling starting to invade his sinuses. Too late now, no point in suffering for nothing. 

Spinning on his heel, Chuuya casts the darkest glare he can muster at the ‘all too innocent’ whistling detective still holding the weapon in his bandaged hands. Hard to believe a bottle so small can cause such huge fallout, and yet Chuuya can’t deny the powerful itch beginning to spread. 

“I’m gonna hahh– have to call you back. No, I understand the meaning of urgent, do you understand the meaning of busy?” Flipping Dazai off as the snickering gets louder, Chuuya pulls the phone away from his face. “hH’ANGZT!” 

“What’s the matter, Chuuya? You seem a bit irritated?” Dazai calls, increasing his volume to ensure his voice carries through the phone. “Is it talking to Akutagawa? That always sets me in a foul mood.” 

The noise from the phone seems almost hurt, coated in a thin veil of disgust. Chuuya brings a glove to his nose, pinching it shut long enough to get out, “You talk to him then.” Thrusting the phone in Dazai’s general direction, he leans into his opposite shoulder to muffle another “AMFSHH’uh!” 

“Speak to Akutagawa? Yeah, I’ll pass.” Dazai taunts, aiming his speech at the phone, clearly putting on a performance. “That would just ruin my day, and it’s been going pretty well up till now. I spend my days actively hoping I won’t run into that guy.” 

“You-” Akutagawa starts, before the lines goes silent as Chuuya’s body jerks with another “AHGNTiew! AKNGDT’hah! Merde.” 

“Are you alright?” Akutagawa offers, the genuine nature of the question getting overpowered by joyous laughter bubbling up from Dazai. Chuuya barely has time to glare before he’s aiming for his shoulder again as another harsh sneeze nearly doubles him over.  

“Oh Chuuya here’s just fine, I think he’s just allergic to your presence! Even through the phone, you seem to leave him in… quite a state.” Dazai wipes a tear from his eye as Akutagawa lets a few faint curses slip through the phone. “Maybe you should consider hanging up, let the man have a bit of time to breathe.” 

Finally able to get a word in, Chuuya brings the phone back to his ear with a cautious fist pressed against his nose, fingers holding it shut. “I’b fide. Just repord to Bori idstead. I’b a bid… ah’GNt!” He breaks off into a cough, the tight stifle leaving his head pounding. “A bid preoccupied.”

After a few muffled objections, a comment Dazai vaguely catches about ‘why are you even there’, and a final request for backup on the next mission he’s being sent on, Akutagawa hangs up. 

Dazai offers an innocent smile as Chuuya turns back to him, a red hue beginning to flitter over his skin, fists balled at his sides. “What the hell was that, you bastard! Are you seriously trying to– AESHH! trying to get a fucking– YEASHH’iuh! fucking pounding?” 

“Why Chuuya,” Dazai coos. “What a generous offer! I’d simply adore it if you pounded me all–” 

“Shut the fuck up, you know that’s not what I meant.” Chuuya growls, pawing at his nose as another sneeze doubles him over. “Mon dieu. Did you really hhhah– have to spray that in here? If I don’t… ihihh– if I don’t leave I’m gonna be itchy for hours. ARSHH’iuh!” 

“Oh my- I really didn’t think that through, did I? How reckless of me,” Dazai hums, sliding up from his chair. Chuuya feels himself step backwards before he can process the change, involuntarily retreating from the source of the tickle. 

Sliding a hand in front of his face, Chuuya glares over the makeshift mask. “You’re still covered in the stuff. Keep your distance mackerel or I swear I’ll breAKSHH’aa!” 

“Sorry,” Dazai replies, taking another step closer. “I didn’t quite catch that. Or you’ll what?” 

“I’m serious, you bastard. I’m… hASHH! EMFFSHH! AHMFSH’aa! Fucking Christ.” Chuuya coughs out, his nose twitching dangerously with each step Dazai advances. As if just the knowledge of a closer proximity to his allergen is making the reaction worse. 

“You’re having sex with the lord?!” Dazai gaps, a playfully smug expression resting across his eyes. “I mean, I know I’m good in bed, but to call me your saviour.” 

Not bothering to dignify that with a response, Chuuya takes another step back, missing his shoulder completely when the next “yeASHH’iuh!” catches him off guard. Dazai seems to tremble a little at this display, crossing the distance between them in a single stride. 

Chuuya takes a step forward, taking note of the way Dazai allows the intrusion, sinking back to allow Chuuya space to stand. His posture is open, inviting, nothing like the commanding stance of last time. This is a new game, and he’s inviting Chuuya to take the lead. 

“Well fuck,” Chuuya growls, lowering his glove just long enough to let the sickly floral scent intrude past his defenses. He nearly whimpers as the itch increases tenfold, each breath bringing a new round of desperate hitching. “IhheHh– I’m gonna sneeze-” 

“Did I say you could?” Dazai purrs, the sound catching in his throat as Chuuya spins him around, knocking him into the wall hard enough to expel his breath. 

“I don’t remehhmber asking.” Chuuya smirks as Dazai’s eyes flash, his tongue poking through his teeth in a hiss of pleasure. Leaning closer to his shoulder, Chuuya allows his breath to catch once, twice–

“AESHH’ou!” 

The action jerks his body closer to Dazai’s, a moan slipping from the detective's lips. Barely a moment to catch his breath, Chuuya lets the second, third, and fourth slip out in rapid succession, each aimed a little closer to Dazai’s neck. 

By the fifth Dazai’s panting, shivers running through him as Chuuya’s nose rests against the bare skin. Gathering his composure long enough, he brings Chuuya’s hips towards his own. Dazai leans his head back, eyes fluttering shut in time with Chuuya’s. 

“I’m not… not done…” Chuuya stutters out, a single tear running its way down his cheek. The slow trickle brushes against the side of his nose, leaving him breathless, only enough time to inhale for the– “hEYESHH! EASHHMF! MMFFSHH’aa!” 

“You know,” Dazai whispers, voice stolen as Chuuya begins to rub his nose across the sensitive skin below his ear. “You don’t have a lot of warning for your…” 

Chuuya smirks, pulling Dazai down to his level, breath caressing Dazai’s ear. “For my what, bastard? Say it.” 

Dazai moans in response, a mixture of pleasure and submission as Chuuya lets his teeth mark Dazai’s skin for his own. Gentle enough not to leave any marks that will last too long, but not so gentle that he’s not reminded who’s winning this game. 

“Your sneezes,” Dazai manages to pant, the aforementioned action drawing his breath once more. 

“AESHH’aa! Fuck. Yeah, I guess they don't,” Chuuya replies, releasing Dazai’s shirt quick enough to slam him into the wall with a grunt. “I guess I don’t pay as much attention as some people.” 

There’s a faint whimper in response, Chuuya taking the cue to let his hand wander down Dazai’s chest, resting right above his thigh. “However, I can definitely still feel it. There’s a near constahh… constant buzz. It’s just that I’m never sure when it’s gonna turn into a full sneeASHHH’iuh! Fucking hell.” 

As his body jerks, Chuuya lets his hand slip lower, Dazai responding in kind with a moan. Pausing, Chuuya waits for the next move. It comes sooner than expected, Dazai barely able to contain himself as his hand grips Chuuya’s back, head tilting down to expose the hunger in his eyes. 

At this, Chuuya pulls back, smirking at the whimper breaking their contact coaxes from the other. “Being this close to you is making the itch so much worse,” He muses, rubbing a finger under his nose. An invitation. “I think I’m gonna sneeze again–” 

Not one to turn down the chance for a script flip, Dazai grabs his wrist, pulling it down to his waist. “I think you’ve had more than enough of those.” 

With a barely concealed smirk, Chuuya lets his head tilt back, meeting Dazai’s eyes. “And if I caASHH’iuh! Can’t stop?” 

“Well then,” Dazai taunts, letting his fingers slide up under Chuuya’s nose. “I guess I’ll just have to help you.” 

“EHNGT!” Chuuya gasps in the aftermath of the forced stifle, his breath catching once more as Dazai’s fingers do nothing but irritate his nose further. 

“I do believe I said that was enough, didn’t I?” Dazai hums, fingers rubbing back and forth over Chuuya’s rapidly twitching nose. The tortured appendage wriggles, Chuuya’s eyes fluttering shut as his whole body trembles. 

“AHDTSHH’aa! Fuck, it won’t stahh… AENGT’shiew! Won’t stop if you keep… keeASPTCHH! Keep doing that.” Chuuya growls, leaning forward to rub his nose against Dazai’s shoulder again. He’s stopped by a single movement, Dazai maneuvering himself out of the way with a flourish. Too distracted to attempt to follow, Chuuya raises a fist back to his nose as the tickle hits its peak once more. 

“A Port Mafia executive can’t even stop his own nose?” The taunt stops him in his tracks, Chuuya’s eyes snapping open to glare at Dazai as he finishes the statement. “The standards have really dropped it seems.” 

“Or maybe,” Chuuya begins in a near purr, reveling in the slight crack that spreads through Dazai’s smirk at the abrupt tone change. “I never intended to stop it at all.” 

It’s not easy to catch Dazai off guard, especially when he’s spent nearly 8 years studying your every move. Not easy, but not impossible. As Chuuya releases the grasp on his nose, pressing Dazai back against the wall, he takes pride in the light gasp that escapes the bastard. 

“ASHHH’ou! yeASHh’iuh! hehH– ASHH’iuh!” 

Mask fully shattered, Dazai can do nothing but moan as each sneeze jerks their bodies closer together. Chuuya drops all decorum as he rubs his nose against Dazai’s neck again. He lets a few groans slip from his tongue, flaring his nostrils as the skin contact leaves Dazai quivering. 

Dazai’s response is a simple phrase, barely audible as his voice catches in his throat. 

“Chuuya was never a mere pawn; a checkmate well earned.” 

[xmoonlitxdreamx]

Was listening to hawthorne heights this morning and started scheming

[harleysalicent]

I mean are wwdits vampires like twilight vampires where as soon as the venom hits it’s game over and they gotta turn or die or normal vampires bc if he was able guillermo could become a vampire who doesn’t kill. just feeds and hypnotises lmao

or like dexter for vampires where he only kills evil ppl

or maybe he becomes a vampire who kills other vampires to combine the slaying gene

[consumed-by-fandom]

Look I know everyone makes the correlation of fight club with p2 and p3 but SURELY people see my idea of Fear And Loathing In Las Vegas but its p2 and p3 right?? Right????

Like p2 gets a call from vince about a game convention that’s happening in nevada and he’s being forced to rep rws there because dude is vince’s bitch apparently, plus he MIGHT get paid and p2 can’t afford to say no. So he figures he might make the trip fun and tells p3 about it. Cue them getting a briefcase full of health pipes, catnip, weird pills and other substances and seeing what happens to them. It wouldn’t entirely follow the plot of Fear And Loathing for obvious reasons but imagine them two high as fuck in las vegas. Cmon. There’s so much potential for shenanigans there.

You know for a fact I’ll write the damn thing myself if i have to lmao

[cashmoneyyysstuff]

katsuki is pissed the fuck off.

it doesn't take a rocket scientist to tell. whenever he's angry he makes it extremely obvious and most of the time it becomes everyone's problem. but it's weird to you because he was fine like, 5 seconds ago.

until 5 seconds ago he'd gotten back from buying groceries for the class and kissed you on the forehead as a greeting. he'd even brought the oranges you'd begged him to get last minute because you'd randomly been craving them, even after saying he wouldn't (but you both knew he would.)

but now he's pissed, and you have no idea why.

he's not saying anything either, but he keeps huffing and clicking his tongue every once in a while, fist pressed hard against his cheek and his jaw locked tightly chewing on the little piece of the own orange he'd been eating and finished a bit ago.

you keep munching on your piece of orange as you stare at him, and then you poke at his cheek. he grunts, shooing your hand away and leaning away from you.

"what's got you so grouchy ?" you tilt your head with a raised brow, he scoffs. readjusting his leg on the couch. you fight the urge to roll your eyes. he's ignoring you now ?

"katsuki."

silence.

"katsukiii-"

"it's nothin'." he growls, huffing through his nose.

this time you do roll your eyes "sure, that's why you're being all cranky." slowly, you inch towards his spot on the couch where he'd secluded himself away. he hasn't left the room and he doesn't react to you getting closer besides a slight side eye, so you know he's probably just being dramatic.

his nose scrunches up at your wording and he pretends he doesn't notice you lifting his arm up to lay in them. he doesn't comment on how he almost immediately changes his position to make you more comfortable.

"m'not cranky." he spits, eyebrows contorting and a pout settles onto his face "not a baby."

could've fooled me you think, but you decide against actually saying it. you're smile widens when his eyes narrow once he meets yours, he pinches your side "quit starin' at me."

"katsukiii. what's got your panties in a bunch ?" you coo and katsuki gives you the most repulsed look you've ever seen him make.

"don't ever say that ever again, i'm so fucking serious." he groans at your giggling, leaning his head away and shoving his palm in your face to get away from you like he couldn't just leave the room instead of actively pulling you closer to him. really, could've fooled you.

"ya didn't let me peel yer orange for you.." he mumbles grumpily.

you blink up at him "..what ?"

eyebrows furrowing just at the memory, he continues "was gone for three seconds to put away the damn groceries an' here you go, prancing around me, throwin' your peel away in the trash right in front of me."

oh, wow.

"katsuki. really ?"

"you know i always do it for you. yn." he sasses.

"that's why you were so mad at me ?" your giggles muffled by him pressing your head into his shoulder in a headlock.

"you were busy !" you fight weakly.

"so ? if you've got shit to do you come to me, i woulda done it in two seconds. peeling oranges doesn't take that long, dummy."

you keep giggling as you try to fight him off before you hear him snort and he releases you.

as stupid as it may sound, katsuki isn't the best when it comes to letting his affection be known through words, so you know how much acts of services, as small as they are, mean to him.

you sometimes forget how much he loves to do little things for you. throwing away your little candy wrappers, or already unwrapping your ice cream for you. or absentmindedly fixing up and sorting out your desk, or bookshelf when he sees your manga out of order or sticking out too much. the little ways he cares for you make your heart flutter. you smile up at him and offer him a piece of orange. he scowls at it.

"don't want your stupid orange." he mutters childishly, but you don't have enough time to pull away to eat it yourself before he grips your wrist. bringing it up to his mouth to eat it anyway. you roll your eyes with a fond smile.

"i'll be sure to leave the orange peeling to you from now on." you jest. he grunts in approval, softly chewing on the slice of juicy orange before patting your wrists, signalling he wants more. and you snort, but you still hand him another piece. his warm grip on your wrist remains even though he could very well just take it out of your hands. he hums again when the taste kicks in.

"you better, i mean it. otherwise it's your funeral."

thank my lovely lovely moot @kovu-bunnbunn for this lovely idea ! tysm twin ! :3

[how-the-feathers-have-fallen]

Dumping the start of the tags here cause tumblr has a tag limit of 30 :/ sorry op

Okay hold on

also more things I couldn't fit in. after cuddy bails out choreman chase gets assigned a bunch of clinic hours as Punishment TM. But mom-dad wilson (house is dad-mom) keeps him company till house gets angsty and comes to bail him out pick him up.

More I couldn't fit in at the end so I dumped here outta order:

wilson teahces the ducklings to paint since obvi house passed down his musical talents

rich kid chase got assigned clarinet at age 6. he's ok but has 0 heart. house jokingly points him towards a lyre in a music shop and he takes to it instantly. house go to tease him (baby angel lookin-) but chase looks so overjoyed and he says something like "look just like David played for Saul" so he melts on the spot (and convinces wilson to by him a kinnor so he doesn't know its his idea. he sings like a screeching alterboy tho)

I think cameron can sing but she's quiet and stumbles so she refuses to get formal training. she's tear rendering on a cello tho. surprisingly she can dj like all hell too. she had a wild college life before her 1st husband

foreman can sing smooth as silk. but he can't play an instrument to save his life (no patient for it). his dancing though? stage worthy. can be convinced to show off after a couple drinks.

Obsessed with the whole vibes of early season one of House. The ducklings have the energy of dysfunctional siblings along with their insane Vicodin-addict father. Wilson isn’t shown to have an office yet so he just lingers at House’s side while constantly and giving him fuck-me eyes. Wilson will just sit in on diagnoses and give his advice like he doesn’t have any responsibilities in the world. When the team needs to (illegally) shrink a patient’s tumor so it’s small enough to operate on, Wilson just says “alright” and does it along with Cameron. Chase does a silly American accent to fool a patient’s mother and it WORKS. Foreman is new and already despises everyone. House comments on how fuckable Wilson looks when Wilson is simply wearing a green tie and nice shoes. An old woman says that House has the same bedroom eyes as Ashton Kutcher. At one point the team, House, Wilson, and Cuddy all gather together in the small lab room to discuss a patient and are all basically brushing shoulders. Wilson reads a love poem out loud in the middle of the hospital to House. House eats tomato sauce that the team suspected was killing the patient. Wilson ditches his wife on Christmas Eve to go hang out with House and it shows a montage of them laughing and eating take-out. Cuddy greets House and Wilson by saying “hi, boys” like they’re kids. Foreman and Cameron are tasked to search a patient’s home and Foreman eats the ham he found in their fridge because he was hungry. The first scene with House shows him and Wilson walking down the hallway literally brushing hands and shoulders despite the hallway being huge. One of the first things Wilson does is lie to House. Wilson asks House — who rarely ever takes cases unless he finds them really interesting — to take a case and House just takes it. When asked why it was so easy, House just looks at Wilson with a smirk and says “you know why” and then they both smile at each other. This is all in the span of the first eight episodes.

[obsessivevoidkitten]

Male Harem of Bullies

Kinktober Day 9: Bullies/Gang Bang

Four Male Animal-Human Hybrid Yanderes x Feminized Male Ferret-Hybrid Reader CW: Noncon, ass eaten like it's groceries, bullying, fivesome, gang bang, double penetration, triple penetration, more double penetration, forced feminization, crossdressing, kidnapping, non-human genitalia, massive horse dick, colossal rhino cock, slimy reptilian dicks, rhino-man, horse-man, lizard-man, bull-man, male harem, oral sex, anal sex, bottom reader, general yandere behavior Word Count: 2k (Slightly different from my initial vision but much better imho, made to be expanded on with drabbles involving each man, possibly multiple drabbles with each exploring different situations.)

Baryn the Bully. A brash, arrogant, cocky, oversexed rhino hybrid jock who thought more with his dick than his brain. He was the star of the college's football team, so of course, he was extremely popular.

You were the complete opposite. A small, intelligent, and soft spoken male ferret hybrid. A total nerd. Always kept your head down, and often between the pages of a book.

While he was a bit rude to the other geeks, he reserved his worst behavior for you. Trapping you in your locker, pantsing you, making fun of you.

There wasn't any recourse. There was no way the college was going to punish their most talented football player. And you weren't made of money, you couldn't just transfer to another school.

And you didn't want to leave anyway! Why should you? You liked your classes, you had friends in your dorm, and you only lived one town away from family. You could handle a little bullying if it meant keeping all those perks. Not to mention the campus library. It was colossal. And where you spent the vast majority of your spare time.

That's where you were on the night of the big football game, in the library studying with your friend, and roommate, Nat. With the vast majority of students preparing to watch the game with their friends from their dorms or attend live, the library was nearly empty.

"I have to use the restroom, I'll be right back."

Nat made a sound of acknowledgment as he continued his studies.

On your way out of the restroom, you smacked right into Baryn. A wall of thick grey muscle. What the hell was he doing in the library at all, let alone before a big game? You flicked your tail nervously as he smirked at you wickedly. You only saw that expression on him before he bullied you in some way. You noticed he was carrying a large gym bag.

"Just who I was looking for!"

Baryn gave you no time to complain as he quickly stuffed you into the duffel bag and left. It stank heavily of the rhino's heady musk, the smell making you quite a bit dizzy. You had no idea where he was taking you. Despite your shouts and thrashing, no one stopped to help. Either they were too scared of the big rhino-man, or they recognized him and figured it was just a silly jock or frat prank.

And you had thought it was some fucked up joke too. Maybe he was going to keep you in this bag during the game or put you in a locker, but it was far worse than that.

You felt the bag being set down gently. It was opened soon after that. You immediately leapt out, claws at the ready. You scratched and bit at Baryn's tough skin. You didn't even register that he was naked. He chuckled as the most you managed to do was cause a stray trickle of blood here and there.

"Love it when ya start throwin' a hissy fit."

He smacked your ass playfully before  he started removing your clothing. By then, tears were running down your face as you cried in frustration.

"F-fuck off! Give me m-my clothes!"

He sat on the sofa and pulled you into his lap. A strong hand was over your mouth, and he held you close, forcing you to lean back into his chest. He nuzzled your neck, careful not to poke you with the horn that tipped his nose.

"Just relax, darlin." You're gonna help me and the bros with a lil' pre-game tradition we have."

He took his free hand and fondled your cock and balls.

"We always have a good fuck before a big game! The gals we normally use weren't available for the job. It's super easy, y'all ain't even gotta do any work. Just be a good fleshlight for us."

At that, you thrashed and let out muffled screams, you didn't want this fucker's dick in you. Just then, the door burst open, and the other top three football players who were members of Baryn's frat barged in.

Mikael, the part horse hybrid. He was really tall but still pretty muscular. His ears and tail were the only visible horse traits, but there were rumors his dick was horse-like, too.

Alvaro, the lizard hybrid. He was a bit short but extremely strong. Eyes like a snake, with scales framing his face and covering his arms, legs, and tail.

The final one inside was Krash, at least that's what everyone called him. He was a bull man. He was as tall and muscled as Baryn, but fur covered his entire body with the exception of his face. He was also equipped with two large curved horns.

All of your bullies were assembled to make your life worse.

"Yo, you already started without us?" Inquired Alvaro.

"Nah, I was just explaining the job to our new girlfriend. About how she just has to stay still and let it happen. I hadn't gotten to the part about how we decided that she would be our girlfriend permanently, though," explained Baryn.

You were trembling. The way that they were staring at you. The way they were talking. They were insane.

Mikael leaned down and licked up your tears before chuckling.

"Aww, don't be scared. We won't hurt you, cutie. You're lucky. We all wanted to share a girlfriend for our pre-game tradition, and we all had a crush on you! Don't you feel lucky?" he said in a mocking tone.

"Course we're all bi, but kinda prefer women. More acceptable for my family, too. So we've decided that you're a lady now. And none of us gentlemen would bully a lady, so if you cooperate, we'll treat ya a lot better," the rhino cooed into your ear while rubbing your thighs.

"N-no! Just let me go! You aren't treating me b-better, j-just trading one torture for a-a-another!!" You began sobbing and shaking inconsolably.

Not to worry though, you're four new boyfriends knew just how to cheer up their little lady friend. You were clearly just moody and upset by a lack of proper attention. You obviously needed their seed in your belly.

Krash wordlessly kneeled between your legs and held your legs still with his strong hands. He used his broad tongue to apply thick drool to your hole, slipping it into you and massaging it as well as he could. You had to be as stretched, lubed, and relaxed as possible if you were going to take all of them.

You twitched and shuddered as the unwelcome intrusion made your cock stand up.

"Pl-please sto-," you whined pitifully before being cut off by Mikael.

"Stop? You clearly like it!" He leaned over Krash and rubbed a finger up and down your cock to tease you.

Baryn bit and sucked on your neck before you could reply, causing your mind to go a bit blank with how good it felt in conjunction with Krash's sloppy tongue tending to your ass.

"I think that means she's ready," someone chuckled. You couldn't tell who, though. Your brain was soup. It must have been Baryn because he was the first to slip his cock into you once Krash stopped licking.

It must have been more rhino like than human because the ridges and folds made you drool when you felt them slowly move back and forth against your inner walls. While Baryn continued fucking into you slowly Krash decided to suck on your leaking dick.

"Damn, she really does like it," Alvaro mused as you bucked instinctively into Krash's warm, inviting mouth.

You moaned as you came and then relaxed quite a bit. Since you were so well stretched and much more compliant now, Krash got up and positioned himself in front of you and slipped his dick in beside Baryn's. The stretch was uncomfortable but not painful. They were careful to go at a slow pace that their previously virgin girlfriend could handle.

Krash didn't last too terribly long. He had forgotten to jerk off several times so that he could last a long time like the others had told him to. With a grunt, he emptied his large furry nuts into you, then pulled out and let Alvaro take his place.

Alvaro, being reptilian, had two hard cocks ready to sink into you. And he did so eagerly. Both of them were slimy and tapered and had no issue fitting into you, especially with Krash's cum having lubed you up so well. He went at a faster pace than Krash had or Baryn was.

Luckily, you were ready by that point. Baryn matches his pace since you were taking them so well. Both men whispered praises into your ear since you were taking them all just so perfectly. Alvaro claimed your mouth with his and snaked his long tongue into your mouth.

Your whole body shuddered around their dicks as you came again, this time from their cocks battering a special spot inside of you.

"So sex hungry, this one. Can't wait for my turn."

Mikael didn't have a long wait. Baryn and Alvaro finally unloaded into you simultaneously, a vast torrent of cum that started to bulge out your belly.

"Fuck, you're the best hole I've ever had!"

Alvaro pulled out after making sure he finished loading you with his semen.

"Yeah, darlin' we're gonna have to do this a lot."

With a loud squelch, Baryn lifted you up and swapped places with Mikael, who quickly settled you on his dick. The flared tip went in easily with how "well-loved" your hole was from your other three boyfriends. He had you facing him so he could kiss your fucked out face.

Your stare was blank, your face flushed, and the only sounds you could make was feeble mewling as hid large equine prick made an outline in your belly. He pressed your face into his armpit so that you could get a nose full of his pheromone laden musk. He needed you to reek of him.

After that, the horse hybrid bit at your neck, all while he pounded into you tirelessly. When he eventually came, it made your belly bulge further. When he pulled out an incredible amount of cum dribbled down his cock and onto his balls.

You were tired but remained conscious, your brain struggling to comprehend the violation that just occurred. Your body was limp. At least it made you easy to clean up.

"Girls just need dick to calm them down, I guess," mumbled Arvalo.

"Well, I reckon we know what to do when she gets bratty," Baryn replied.

They took you gently and cleaned you up in the tub, all of them praising you for doing so well. Once they had you clean, they dressed up in a cheerleader outfit. It was the cutest thing they had ever seen. It had been a wise decision to bribe your roommate Nat to get your measurements for them while you slept. You were embarrassed but didn't complain. You knew it wouldn't do any good. The will to fight had been thoroughly fucked out of you.

They each scented you and your clothing to make sure their combined smell clung to you. No one would dare touch their precious nerdy girlfriend.

When it was time for the game, they had you sit beside the benched players, right between some players they trusted. You looked down awkwardly the majority of the time with your tail curled closely around you. They won that game by a wider margin than they had won any game before! They chalked it up to their newly enhanced tradition of bedding you combined with your presence at the game.

It was certainly something they'd have to do every single time!

[the-wolf-poet]

Ænno i graz fa erođ hyþ ģyndaj. Ģyndaj er þimbo aþ olly. Vejn żej esse lód migliođ, bin esse te kom lut. Żi friai i famyli takh ve esse kom lut.

[pxrxmoore]

buck discovers post lightning strike he can now do math <3

[bearforcecaptions]

The spell worked, sort of, but not how I wanted. I did have the body of my dreams – I was Garrett now, but I didn’t realize the catch was that I wouldn’t be able to control what I’m doing unless I’m totally alone. And Garrett, or, me, I guess – I’m nearly never alone! The frat house pretty much always has someone in it, and I’m super popular, too. I thought being Garrett would be fun and easy, but stuck like this, it’s torture!

I figured out the ritual from this old book I found at that occult shop downtown, thinking it would be a quick way out of my boring life and into something… well, something way more interesting. Garrett had it all, or so I thought. Girls loved him, he was in the best shape, and everyone wanted to be his friend. But nobody told me about this weird restriction, or maybe I just didn’t read that part carefully enough. I guess the idea was I’d “experience” Garrett’s life, but it’s like watching a movie, except I’m the star and I can only move on my own terms when no one else is around.

And god, my roommate, he’s actually so stupid. When I can’t control my actions, we bro out all the time, but he’s so vapid. I guess I’m not much better, but it’s actually infuriating. You’d think we could have a conversation that’s not about girls, parties, sports, or video games. But no, every time he starts talking, it’s like Garrett’s body just falls right into the rhythm of it, responding automatically. I tried fighting it at first, but it’s like this autopilot takes over, and I’m just... stuck.

I’ve been scouring the room whenever I get a chance to control things, like right now, looking for any sign or clue on how to undo this. There has to be something I missed. I rummaged through his messy closet, which is packed with clothes, gym stuff, and random junk, none of it useful. The guy keeps his stuff in total chaos, and I feel weirdly exposed, like I’m actually pawing through my own things.

Shit, no, is that the door jangling? I thought I would have a couple of hours to try and figure out how to fix this. Who the hell knows when I’ll get another chan-

Fuuck, bro. Why’s my roomie home early? Thought he went to his ‘rents for the weekend. I was just about to jerk one out too. Ah well, maybe he’ll be down for some Call of Duty or something. I could use a beer.

“Yo, dude, what’s up? You back already?” I say, grinning like an idiot as I lean against the door frame, flexing a bit without even realizing it. Dude probably thinks I’m just chillin’, but nah, I’m feelin' like a boss.

He laughs, dropping his bag by the door and shrugging. “Yeah, man, got bored at home. Figured I’d head back early. Parents were driving me nuts.”

“Oh, for sure, dude,” I nod, grabbing a can of beer from the mini-fridge by my bed. “Parents, am I right? They just don’t get it, bro.” I crack it open, chugging half of it in one go, feeling the cool rush. Damn, that’s good.

He slaps my shoulder, laughing. “Dude, I swear, it’s like every time I go back, it’s the same speech about responsibility and blah blah blah. Like, whatever, right?”

“Oh, totally, man,” I laugh, shrugging it off. “Why they gotta be like that, y’know? We’re just out here living, they don’t get it.” I toss him a beer, feeling that chill vibe kickin’ in, like nothing in the world matters but just hanging with my bro. This is what it’s all about – no worries, no drama, just cold beers and good times.

“Bro, I’m feelin’ a COD sesh,” I say, grabbing the controller off the couch. “You down?”

He grins. “Hell yeah, let’s wreck some noobs.”

We crash down on the couch, controllers in hand, beers in easy reach, and it’s like all the worries in the world just melt away. I’m trash-talkin’, throwin’ down taunts, and we’re both laughing so hard my sides hurt. I don’t even remember the last time I felt this alive.

“You’re so bad, dude,” I laugh, jabbing him in the ribs as I get another kill. “How are you still this bad?”

“Shut up, bro!” he shoves me back, laughing too, and I’m grinning like an idiot.

Fuck, life is good, I think, as I take a gulp of my beer. I got my bros, I got my beer, and I got my games. What more does a dude need? Life’s good.

[earthtooz]

ik ur in ur reo phase BUT HEAR ME OUT EARTH ONLY YOU CAN DO THIS

rin ACCIDENTALLY publicizing ur relationship bec mf got jealous as hell when ur face appeared in the kiss cam IN HIS GAME??????? WITH A RANDOM GUY AND WAS HE FUMING??? YOU AND I KNOW HE WAS THROWIN HANDS

thats all

I'M HEARING YOU OUT. warning for unrealistic scenario, i wrote this in like 20 minutes so it's unedited :p apologies for any mistakes.

imagine being rin's secret partner, the one he keeps behind closed doors because he values you too much to let the invasive eyes of the internet see. he values your relationship too much to let it get tarnished by social media, so he hides any affiliation with you like his life depends on it, only to come home and shower you with the adoration and affection he wishes he could show to the rest of the world.

in the spotlight, he is itoshi rin, japan's prized striker, their golden player, but when he's out of the spotlight, he is your lover. the man who drapes himself over you when things get too rough and he needs a breather. he is yours to cherish, where you have to change your phone wallpaper every other week because there's so many good photos of you two. he is yours to love, he is yours to go to when you feel too lonely, he is yours.

but also imagine, itoshi rin's jealousy and possessiveness no longer being able to rest at bay. it'd been accumulating for the past few weeks, this desire to show you off and boast that it's him who gets to know you like no other.

then the cup overfills, his jealousy tearing him by the seams that he loosely stitched together to withhold this carnal beast resting within him.

all because of a damn kiss cam.

you had been sitting in the vip section of the stadium- where special members are granted tickets, and even though you tell rin that it's fine for you to just sit in the general area, he refuses and tells you that he's bought you the ticket anyway. leaving you with no room for arguments. well. not that there was any to begin with.

anyways, you'd just so happen to sit next to someone who bought vip tickets with no affiliation with any blue lock members. you think he's just a die hard fan, so when he asks you if you like them, you lie and say that you won these tickets at a raffle.

the guy wasn't the most favourable person ever, in fact, you found yourself awkwardly responding to what he was saying, sometimes giving him short and succinct replies because of how... weird... he was. not to be disrespectful but you did not like his vibes. you just hope these 90 minutes can be over quickly.

yeah well, how funny is it that the kiss cam lands on you and the insufferable guy beside you?

you're mortified when you see it on the screen but the person beside you doesn't warrant the same reaction. immediately, he turns to face you, anticipation heavy on his features. in fact, he looks rather... excited...

"no, no, i have a boyfriend, i-" you begin abruptly as he leans in and you have no choice but to helplessly lean back, evading his lips and delaying it as much as you can. you even try rejecting him by frantically waving your hands, panicked and unsure of what to do.

until you hear him.

"back. the. fuck. off!" comes a shout from the pitch; the voice very familiar to your ears that you can't help but instantly relax from hearing it.

your seat was relatively close to the field which meant that those around you could hear the distinct voice of itoshi rin ripping through the air, fury evident and baring its fangs as he all but punches the barrier with each word.

however, everyone in the stadium could see itoshi rin as all cameras pan to him, witnessing his wrath as he shouts from the top of his voice. everyone around you is silent and you don't know whether you want to shrivel up into the ground or run to him and embrace him as tightly as you can. to find sanctuary in his warmth, away from the pushy guy who can't wrap his head around the idea that no means no.

itoshi rin decides for you, effortlessly jumping over the (considerably high???) barrier and making a beeline for you, skipping some stairs. thank goodness for a side seat because he comes to a stop before you, adrenaline still coursing through his veins as he looks at you with heated passion, huffing and puffing.

"rin?" you whisper. he doesn't hear it, looking up at the various stadium screens to see if the kiss cams were still on you. smirking in satisfaction when he realises they are, rin all but pulls you up from your seat and kisses you with so much intensity and fervour that you feel lightheaded. very much so.

the stadium is cheering but you can't focus on it, not when rin's holding you to him so closely, practically trying to meld you to him. not even trying to push him away is enough to snap him out of whatever primal instinct has taken over him, so you grab his face and jerk away from him, not wanting to get too carried away.

before you can utter a word, rin looks behind you, and the coldness in his expression says everything you need to know.

he doesn’t care about dignity at this point. he just needed the world to know that you were his.

"you're dead if you try that again, you lukewarm fuckface," he then turns to you. you shiver from the intensity of his gaze. "i'll kill him next time," he promises before hugging you close to him once again, practically glaring at the cameras. "i'll kill anyone who tries to get to close."

THANK YOU FOR THIS ANON would u believe me if i said i'd been waiting for an opportunity like this? well i'm speaking the truth and i'm so glad u gave me the opportunity i've been waiting for AYEEEEEEE COME BACK ANY TIME YOU ARE SO WELCOME ON THE EARTHTOOZ BLOG, PRETTY <33

���

© EARTHTOOZ 2023, do not steal, translate, repost my fics and do not recommend my fics onto any other site.

[stansangel]

Summer Heat

Author's Note: This is my first fic so pls ignore the bad writing! Anyways I hope you enjoy this, I might write a part 2 if this does well!! (Or if one person likes it) Prompt: You meet young Stan Pines at a bar in the middle of no where. (Thank you to my bestie for giving me this prompt I hope I did it justice) Warnings: drinking, alcohol, young stan being a flirt. 16+ content at the end (it gets a lil freaky in his car but nothing smutty)

READER AND STAN ARE 21+ IN THIS FIC Word Count: 911

It was a warm summer night and you and your friends had decided to go to a bar they had heard about from. Unbeknownst to you this bar was in the middle of fucking no where. Despite having no idea where you found yourself you enjoyed the night singing, dancing, and drinking with your friends. You had been out for a few hours now and your friends had been lost to the night, some being blacked out in various booths around the bar and others having left with guys they met. 

You sat on a stool at the bar swirling your drink in your hand and resting your head on the other mentally arguing with yourself if you should see the rest of the night out or if you should just call a taxi to get you home. As you sat deep in thought you felt someone slide onto the stool next to you and you mentally groaned not ready to deal with another drunk random this late into the night. Before you could even look over to see who it was a deep voice spoke, interrupting your thoughts. “Hey Toots,” the voice said

You quickly turned in surprise upon hearing the voice, far too desperately than you’d like to admit hoping that the person it came from was as attractive as his voice. You looked at the man next to you and God, he was. You stared for a moment before mentally cursing yourself for not saying anything.

“You got a staring problem hon.” He said nonchalantly.

You finally mustered up the courage to say something back.

“S-sorry-” you stuttered out.

God you were fucking stupid. Sorry?! THAT’S the best you could come up with when this gorgeous man was sitting next you AND talking to you? As you continued to berate yourself for the awkward first impression, he spoke up again.

“‘S alright doll, got no issue with it when a pretty gal like you is the one staring” 

You felt your cheeks heat up and you let out an awkward giggle. 

“How’s about I buy you a drink, doll? That okay with you?” he asked. “Yeah.. that’d be great, thank you.” you said, trying to maintain a calm facade. 

You completely forgot about the drink you already had and let him order you and himself a round of drinks. 

“So you got a name or should I just keep throwin’ around pet names?” he asked while chuckling.

“Y/N. My name is Y/N.” you said, way too quickly for your comfort but luckily it didn’t seem to make him any less interested. He thought it was adorable how flustered you’d seem to have gotten and it boosted his ego with every word you spoke.

“That’s a pretty name darlin’” He said with a smirk

You felt heat rise to your cheeks again before you mumbled out a thank you.

“‘Course babe. I’m Stanley, go by Stan though.” He said to you.

The drinks are set in front of the two of you and you take a sip pleasantly surprised by the fruity drink that hit your lips, you look at his and notice that he ordered himself something different.

“Is it good? I assumed you didn’t drink whiskey like me so I got ya something sweet. Just like ya.” He said smiling .

You nodded and thanked him. 

“So what’s a pretty thing like yourself doing here all alone?” He asked with an eyebrow quirked.

“Oh.. I came here with friends but they’ve all gone off to do their own thing.” You say feeling a bit upset your friends left you to your own devices.

He looked at you sympathetically noticing your expression.

“Hey it’s alright doll, you got me to keep ya company,” He said as he flashed you a smile. “Plus I doubt any of your friends bought you a drink tonight like I did.” He gestured to the drink in front of you. 

You giggled and nodded. “I guess you’re right.” You spent a couple more hours chatting with Stan and sipping on drinks he so generously bought for you.

“Hey, whaddaya say we get outta here? I could take you back to my place.” He smirked as he proposed the idea.

“I’d like that a lot.” You said smiling.

He got up and extended his arm out for you to take and you did, you clung to his arm gently as he guided you out of the bar and to his car, a beautiful red El Diablo. He opened the passenger door for you and closed it once you got in before jogging around to the other side of the car and getting in. You watched as he started the ignition and began driving. 

As the two of you made your descent back to his house you let his hand rest on your thigh while his other expertly drove the car down the empty streets. You stopped at a red light which was taking seemingly forever to turn green when he turned to you and kissed you. It wasn’t soft or sweet. It was feverish and needy. You kissed him back with the same fervor he did, teeth clashing against each other. His hand traveled from your thigh to your hair and tangled in your locks pushing you closer to him. He pulled away breathless, lips swollen from the kiss and lust filling his eyes.

This was going to be a long night.

[bananababblegigglemuffin]

MASSEUSE LOGAN OLD MAN EDITION.

Logan leaned back, crossing his arms over his chest as he studied her. “You’re not serious about this whole ‘massage’ thing, are ya, sweetheart?” He huffed, eyes narrowed in skepticism. “Don’t I look a little… clawed up to be your friendly neighborhood masseuse?”

She gave him a grin that was anything but innocent. “Aw, don’t tell me Old Man Logan’s scared of some hard work? I’ve heard rumors – best hands in the business.” She leaned in, raising an eyebrow. “Might even say you’re legendary.”

Logan rolled his eyes, muttering something under his breath that sounded suspiciously like, “Legendary… pain in the…”

“Did you just call me a pain?” She tilted her head, giving him an exaggerated pout. “Really, Logan, I thought we were friends.”

“Friends don’t guilt-trip friends into massages,” he grumbled, pulling out a faded, slightly beat-up massage table from the back of his studio. “Now get on the table, or I’m charging double.”

She hopped on, barely hiding her smirk. “Wouldn’t dream of it, Old Man.”

He huffed as he started on her shoulders, mumbling about how she’d be the end of him. But despite the grumbling, his hands moved with a surprising gentleness, kneading out knots with practiced ease.

“Ow!” She yelped suddenly, and he barked out a laugh, unapologetic.

“Yeah, that’s what you get for callin’ me ‘old man,’ sweetheart.”

“Oh, sure – punish the client. Excellent bedside manner, Logan,” she teased, her laughter bubbling up despite the sting in her shoulder.

Logan just shook his head, fighting a smile. “You want this done or not?”

“Alright, alright.” She settled back, sighing in contentment. “Just don’t get too soft on me, Logan. Wouldn’t want you to lose that tough-guy reputation.”

Logan’s mouth twisted into a wry grin as he pressed a particularly stubborn knot. “Sweetheart, I don’t go soft for anyone.”

She winced, half-laughing through it. “Coulda fooled me, Logan.”

Logan rolled his shoulders, eyeing her across the dim room as if she’d just challenged him to a bar fight instead of a massage. “You know, you coulda gone to a real spa instead of draggin’ me into this,” he muttered, his tone gruff but undeniably amused. “They got candles and music and all that fancy stuff you’re always tryin’ to drag me into.”

She smirked, kicking off her shoes and settling herself onto the faded leather massage table he’d hauled in from who-knows-where. “But where’s the fun in that?” she shot back. “Besides, word is, you’ve got the best hands in town, Logan. I’d be a fool to pass up the legend.”

He let out a snort, crossing his arms. “Legend? Pretty sure that’s just a word you’re throwin’ around to get a discount.”

“Oh please.” She flopped dramatically onto her back. “Like I’d ask for a discount. What do you take me for?”

Logan arched a brow, pulling out a bottle of oil from his makeshift supply shelf and popping it open. “An opportunist,” he muttered, slapping a generous amount into his palms. He warmed it between his hands, then took hold of her shoulder, his fingers pressing with surprising skill.

“Oh, that’s good,” she sighed, eyes fluttering shut as his thumbs dug in. “You’ve got the hands of an angel, Logan.”

“Angel?” he scoffed. “Last time someone called me that, I was scrappin’ in a bar, and I’m pretty sure they were bein’ sarcastic.”

She laughed, the sound relaxed and easy. “Well, I’m not. Seriously, this is amazing. Do you moonlight as a miracle worker too?”

“Don’t get any ideas,” he replied, shaking his head as he worked out a knot at the top of her spine. “I’m just gettin’ rid of some of that tension you build up from, y’know… annoyin’ me all day.”

She gasped in mock outrage. “Oh, annoying you? Who’s the one grumbling about every little thing?”

“Exactly,” Logan grunted, pressing deeper with a grin he couldn’t hide. “If I weren’t around, who’d keep you in line?”

“Oh, sure, the old man keeps me in line.” She smirked, her tone dripping with sarcasm. “Right. You think you’re all grumpy and untouchable, but deep down, I know you love this job. It’s practically a calling.”

Logan chuckled, the sound low and gravelly. “I’d watch it if I were you. Keep talkin’, and I might go easy on the next knot. Make it hurt a little less.”

“Like you ever go easy on anything,” she teased, and he shook his head, unable to stop a small chuckle from escaping.

“I’m serious,” he said, leaning in, his hands working deftly. “You’re pushin’ your luck.”

But she only settled deeper into the table, content, a small smile playing on her lips. “Yeah, well… if pushing my luck gets me one of these every now and then, maybe it’s worth it.”

Logan let out a snort, pausing just long enough to mutter, “One day you’re gonna pay for all this flattery.”

“Oh, Logan,” she sighed in contentment, “you’re already a softie.”

End.

[fairy-writes]

hi! if its no trouble for u, could i request an edward elric/reader fluff with a lot of pining coming from him?? i adore your fma fics so much!! <333

TOUCHY

Reblogs and Comments are greatly appreciated!!

__________________________________________________________________________

Fandom(s): Fullmetal Alchemist

Pairing(s): Edward Elric x Reader

Word Count: 2.4k

Genre(s)/Tag(s): Gender Neutral!Reader, Fluff, Pining, Kind of Oblivious!Edward?

Notes: Thank you for liking my silly little FMA fics! I adore writing them!!

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You were always touchy. 

Not in a creepy or perverse way. But in the way that you’d always hold Edward’s hand when out traveling. You’d play with his hair whenever he allowed you to. When you’d make dinner, you’d brush your hand across his shoulders as if reassuring yourself that he was still there as he sat at the kitchen table and rambled about alchemy. 

All of which happened more than he liked to admit. 

But he couldn’t bring himself to care. 

1904

It started when you were young.

His mother had just baked an apple pie, but for whatever reason, wouldn’t let him eat some. Nor Alphonse, who was still just a tiny child at only four years old. Ed himself was five, but that wasn’t the point. 

The point was that he couldn’t have any apple pie!

“Get your shoes on, Ed. We’re going out.” His mother called from the kitchen, where she was lacing up Al’s shoes. Ed grumbled but sat down by the front door and obediently started tying his shoes. He looped the bunny ears around one another and tied a sloppy knot, but that didn’t matter. 

Maybe his mother would let him have some of that apple pie when they were done getting back from whatever they were doing! 

His stomach rumbled at the thought, and his mouth watered, but he pushed on and carefully held his little brother’s hand as his mother carried the pie in one hand and held Al’s free hand in the other. 

They stopped at a little house just down the street. Ed frowned and looked up at his mom, but she was watching the people file in and out with armfuls of boxes. 

Maybe someone was moving in? 

She eventually headed up the three steps to the front door and knocked. Al let go of Ed’s hand and clung to her dress. Ed stood a little behind and jumped as the front door opened. It was an older woman, Ed didn’t know her age as he had never seen her before. Her face split into a polite smile, 

“Can I help you?” She asked. Her voice reminded Ed of Granny Pinako’s: kind and welcoming with just a touch of sternness. His mom smiled that winning smile of hers, and she held out the apple pie. 

What was she doing?!

“My name is Trisha Elric. These are my sons Edward and Alphonse. We just wanted to welcome you into the neighborhood.” She said, and the woman’s face warmed like a sunrise. She took the pie gratefully and knelt to greet the two boys. Ed scowled. He didn’t like this lady. She got their apple pie!

“My name is Agnes, but everyone calls me Grammy. It’s nice to meet you both.” She said kindly, and Al peeked his head from where he had been hiding it in the fabric of their mother’s dress. 

“‘m Al.” He mumbled, and at his mother’s insistence, Ed jabbed a finger at his chest. 

“I’m Ed!” He said, still a bit miffed at the idea of not getting any apple pie. Agnes looked behind her and called a name before turning back to the Elric brothers. 

“I have a grandchild about your age. I think you’ll like them.” She said cryptically, and you appeared from around the side of the house. 

You were dressed in a pair of dirt-covered overalls and carried a bug net over your shoulder. You had a grin decorating your features that put Winry’s to shame as you scampered up the steps.

“Grammy! What’s that?!” You chirped, and your grandmother gestured to the boys and their mother. 

“These are the Elric’s. They brought us a pie to welcome us to our new home. Can you say hello?” She said gently, and you turned, dropping your bug net and throwing your arms around Ed and Al with a cheer. 

“Thank you for the pie!”

Ed pushed you off stubbornly, and Al froze stiffly. You stumbled a bit from his push, but your smile didn’t disappear in the slightest. You turned to Agnes and pointed at them, 

“Can they come in and have some pie, Grammy?” You asked, and Ed perked up the slightest bit. (Not that he’d admit it.) 

Agnes hemmed and hawed before looking to their mother. 

“Would it be alright? I don’t want to keep you if you’re busy.” She said, and their mother looked down at the two young children. 

“What do you think, boys?” She asked, and before Al could even get a word in, Ed piped up.

“Yes!” He said, and his mom raised an eyebrow. He deflated slightly at the look. “Yes, please.” He mumbled, and she smiled. 

“If it isn’t too much trouble, we’d love to share some with you.”

And that kickstarted your friendship.

1905

“Ed! Al! There you are!” Your voice carries up the hill where the brothers are reading under a tree. Ed looks up and scowls when he sees you tromping up the hill with a basket in one hand and your ever-trusty bug net in the other. 

He didn’t want to see you right now.

You’d just pull them away from their research. 

From however close they were to bringing their mother back to life.

You made it to the top of the hill and flopped down next to them, swinging your legs over Ed’s as you dug through the basket. Al sat up immediately, his stomach rumbling already as you begin to pull out sandwiches and thermoses of something to drink.

“Granny Pinako said you guys hadn’t eaten yet, so Grammy made you lunch!” You said and tried to hand Ed a sandwich. He pushed it away. 

“We aren’t hungry.” He snapped and looked over to where Al was already stuffing his face with a sandwich. You raised an eyebrow as his own stomach groaned and his face flushed pink. 

Ed angrily took a sandwich and unwrapped it, shoving half in his mouth to your surprised squawk. 

“You’ll choke!” 

“I’m fine!” He garbled out through his mouthful and chewed, stubbornly refusing to look at you. You had adjusted in a half-circle to lay your head in his lap, gently pushing the book he had been reading out of the way. However, you carefully saved his spot with the scrap of paper he had used as a bookmark before pushing it aside. 

At least you didn’t dogear the page. 

“What are you guys working on?” You asked, and Al shut his book quickly before you could get a peek. 

“It’s a secret!” He said quickly, and you frowned, reaching up to poke Ed’s nose. He swatted your hand away. 

“Alright… I won’t pry. It’s probably alchemy anyway, and that stuff makes my head hurt. Just… Don’t get hurt, okay?” You say seriously, and Ed blinks. You weren’t going to pry? You were one of the nosiest people he knew! You were always asking questions, dumb or not. It was one of the reasons he liked hanging around you. 

1910

When Ed opened his eyes, he was met with a familiar ceiling. 

What? 

The last thing he remembered was… What was the last thing he remembered?

A white room.

A set of stone doors. 

Oh… Right…

“You’re awake!” Comes your voice, and he turns to the left to see you sitting at his bedside, a book in your lap and an empty glass of water on the bedside table. You smiled at him, shut your book, and set it aside. 

“Where am I?” He asked, his voice cracking from disuse. How long had he been unconscious? 

“At Granny Pinako’s. It’s been two days. Al brought you here after…” You trailed off, and your expression saddened. 

Al! 

Where was his little brother?!

You must’ve noticed the panic on his face and put a hand on his to keep him from freaking out. It worked better than he would’ve liked to admit. 

“Al’s okay. He’s helping Granny Pinako in the kitchen. I can go fetch him if you’d like.” Ed nodded, and you smiled once again, patting his hand before leaving the room. 

Al tumbled in soon after, the relief evident in his new tinny armored voice. 

“Brother! You’re awake!” He exclaimed. Ed simply grinned, suddenly feeling very exhausted despite having just woken up. He slumped back against his pillows, feeling almost… empty, as memories rushed back to him. 

Human Transmutation. 

Their mother. Or rather what was supposed to be their mother. 

The Truth.

Losing his limbs.

Losing his limbs.

He looked down, spotting where his right arm and left leg used to be. They were really gone…

“Y’know, they stayed by your side the entire time.” Al’s voice breaks him from his reverie. He looked over at his brother with a frown. 

“Who?” Al chuckles and jerks his head toward the door where you had left them. He was mature for a ten-year-old, but then again, he had to be. 

“They didn’t leave your side the entire two days you were sleeping. They even held your hand, too!” He said.

Ed squirmed in his bed, cheeks flushed pink, and avoided his teasing younger brother’s gaze. Al’s tone of voice indicated that he was having fun teasing Ed. He always had way too much fun teasing him when it came to you. 

And Ed could never figure out why. 

1911

“You can’t!” You cried, catching Ed’s arm as he packed his suitcase. He was almost ready. Ready for the State Alchemist’s exam. Ready to get their bodies back. There was only one thing in the way and that was you. 

“Why not?” He snapped back, pulling his automail hand from your grip and shoving his notes in his suitcase. 

“Because you know how I feel about the military! You know what they’ll have you do?! They’ll have you kill people!” You exclaimed, and he scowled down at his folded clothes. 

But he doesn’t say anything. 

Because what can he say? He knew full well how you felt about the military. You had opposed their place in Ishval the moment you knew what was happening, even as a child. You opposed the genocide of the Ishvalan people to the point it would get you in trouble at school. 

Ed knew he wouldn’t be able to refuse if he became a dog of the military. He wouldn’t be able to say no. But this is one of the only chances he has to get Al’s body back. 

So he had to go. 

And in going, he left you behind. 

1911

He did it. 

He was officially a member of the military. 

A State Alchemist. 

A dog.

Ed leaned his head on the train window as he watched the scenery pass by. Resembool was but a few hours away, and then he’d see Al again. See Winry and Pinako. See Grammy. See you. 

Would you hate him for joining the military? He had left early in the morning before you woke up, so he didn’t get to see you one last time before leaving for his exam. Al, Winry, and Pinako had seen him off, and he thought that was good enough. 

So why did his heart ache in his chest?

The ride to Resembool was thankfully uneventful, and soon, he was home. His automail creaked a bit; he had forgotten to maintain it in the few days he had been at Central. But that didn’t matter. He slung his suitcase over his shoulder and made the long walk back to Rockbell Automail. 

Den alerted everyone to his presence by barking. Al came rushing out around the side of the house in excitement as soon as he heard his brother’s voice. Winry peeked her head out her balcony window and waved before ducking back inside to work on whatever project she had been working on. And Granny Pinako came out to greet him.

Ed heard the pattering of feet just as he opened the front door before he was quite literally tackled to the ground. 

It didn’t take much to realize who exactly had tackled him. 

It was you!

He managed to sit up before you were throwing your arms around his neck and nearly knocking him over again. 

“You idiot! You left without saying goodbye!” You whispered, and he just hugged you back in a rare show of affection. 

“Sorry.” That was all he managed. 

You didn’t hate him. 

You still cared. 

And for some reason, that was better than anything else. 

1915

They had done it. 

Father was defeated. 

Al had his body back. Ed had his arm back, but that paled in comparison to the fact that Al had his body back.

Already, his younger brother had quite the appetite but was forced to stick to soups and soft foods while he got used to having a mouth and stomach again. He was supposed to start physical therapy as soon as he was given a clean bill of health. 

There was a knock on their shared hospital door, and he looked up from where Winry was fixing up his automail leg. Who was here? It wasn’t Granny Pinako. She was getting too old to travel now. It wasn’t Grammy. She had passed away last year from an illness. Was it you? Or was it someone from the military?

It was the former. 

You tumbled in with a bouquet of flowers and their names on your lips. 

“Granny said—” You come to a halt when you see Al sitting up in bed, eating slowly with some help from a nurse. Tears well up in your eyes, and the flowers in your hands begin to tremble. 

“You made it!” Winry exclaimed and got up to embrace you. You seemed to be on cloud nine as you gave her a hug, then Al, and then stood before Ed. Your lower lip wobbled, and he vaguely heard Winry and the nurse helping Al out of the room to give you both some privacy. 

“You have your arm back.” You said softly, and he held it up, flexing the nonexistent muscles almost as proof. Your tears welled up once again, and you set the flowers down on the bedside table before you hugged him tightly. He wraps his arms—both of them—tightly around your middle and pulls you almost into his lap. Your head nestles in the crook of his shoulder, and he can hear your sniffles as you cry tears of joy. 

You were always touchy. 

But he didn’t mind it one bit. 

[lushrue]

cold beer on a friday night

heard "a little bit of chicken fried" in a white people anthems compilation the other day and i immediately started thinking of everyone’s favorite southern boy, phillip graves! so have some good ol’ cowboy smut for your weekend! (also did not expect this to be almost 4k words, but here we are)

afab!reader (she/her pronouns used), nsfw, minors dni!!

cw: drinking, unprotected p-in-v sex (wrap it before you tap it), fingering, creampie, heavy praise kink

the bar was pretty packed, but you expected that it would be.

living in a military town, you’d learned when the busy times were. weekends, most evenings after 8 PM, and holidays. this one was the biggest one of all in your community, fourth of july looming around the corner and bringing star-spangled festivity with it. the bar itself was adorned with an american flag banner that people would occasionally toast to before taking a shot. the string lights above the patio had been changed from their pale yellow to shine red, white, and blue. occasionally, as you sat there drinking your cheap beer, someone would break out in a drunken rendition of the star-spangled banner, causing everyone to either sing along or raise their glass in solidarity.

it was entertaining for you, if nothing else. watching men who’d made their country their whole lives celebrate it was its own brand of inspiring. the town felt the same around memorial day and veteran’s day too. you’d been pretty staunchly anti-military for most of your adult life, holding the belief in world peace that only someone who hadn’t experienced war could. but seeing these men who wouldn’t have known each other if not for their brotherhood of service expressing their love for their country, it almost made you want to believe in their cause. still, despite the atmosphere, patriotism wasn’t the foremost thing in your mind tonight.

you weren’t expecting to find the love of your life, not in a place like this. it was hardly the fairytale castle you’d envisioned as a little girl and the men here were certainly no prince charming. all you could ask for was someone to treat you right for a night. focus on you a little bit, take his time. if you got real lucky, maybe he’d even make you cum. the proverbial bar wasn’t in hell, but it was close enough to feel the flames. it’d been months since your deadbeat of an ex-boyfriend dumped you, and despite how bad of an idea your friends had told you it was, you were looking for a rebound. nothing serious or long-term, just a good fuck to set you right and then you could be on your way. it was hard to get anywhere in the dating scene with this insatiable ache between your legs.

you nursed your budweiser, the condensation leaking between your fingertips as you took a drink from the bottle. it tasted like piss, but like everyone always says, you don’t drink for the taste. weary eyes scan the bar and its patrons, looking for anyone who isn’t already fall-on-their-face drunk. it was slim pickins; almost everyone here had started their evening of debauchery hours ago with no signs of stopping. the sober ones were mostly grizzled veterans, watching the younger soldiers with a glint of something akin to nostalgia. you supposed that must have been them once, disregarding their livers for a night of fun with buddies that they could lose in an instant. they certainly wouldn’t be scratching your itch for you anytime soon, so your gaze moved on. 

finally, your eyes settled on a blond man sitting by himself at a high top. you’d seen him here before a couple of times. he was always alone, on the fringes of whatever drunken activity was going on. you’d never seen him so much as stumble while he was here, downing his couple of whiskeys in peace before closing out and heading home. he was handsome, you supposed. older than you, but not enough to make anyone clutch their pearls. muscular, scar on his cheek. still clearly military, but a bit more weathered than the twenty-somethings throwing back jaegerbombs.

little did you know, he’d seen you too. he’d seen how you came every weekend, like clockwork, looking like you were begging for company. it was sweet, he thought, how desperate you were for attention. you were like a puppy with those doe eyes of yours. just begging to be noticed, to be taken into someone’s arms and loved proper. he was sure you tasted as sweet as you looked. just as your eyes met his, you looked away with a blush. had he caught you staring? you couldn’t be sure. you cursed yourself for your bashfulness, clutching the neck of your beer bottle a little tighter. how were you ever going to get laid if you didn’t go for it?

luckily, your military man wasn’t one to wait around. he got up from his table, sauntering towards you with a confidence that was completely innate. this wasn’t born of liquid courage. no, he knew he had something you wanted. you clear your throat and look up as he lays his hand on the chair across from you. “this seat taken?” he asked, his voice slow and easy like he wasn’t in a hurry. nobody was around here, you supposed. you shake your head no and he takes it as an invitation. the chair pulled out with a squeaking noise drowned out by someone breaking out into “my country 'tis of thee.”

you take another swig of beer to loosen your tongue and give you some charisma that you wouldn’t have sober. the man held his hand out to you, his tumbler full of amber in the other. “i’m phillip. you can call me phil.” you take his hand without a second thought, shaking politely. god, how bad off were you if touching a man’s hand made you practically feral? you give your name in reply, withdrawing your hand before your mind runs off with unsavory images. the last thing you needed was to scare off the one eligible bachelor in the bar who’d seen fit to approach you. a cursory glance at his left hand revealed no wedding ring. you weren’t looking to add “homewrecker” to your long list of accomplishments.

“what’s a lovely lady like you doin’ all by herself?” he asked in a charming southern drawl that made your blood pump a little faster. it reminded you of those cheap cowboy romance novels that you sometimes indulged in. everyone had their guilty pleasures, after all. “enjoyin’ the atmosphere,” you quip back, sarcasm dripping from your words. you take another drink of beer. phil leans forward, his weight shifting to his muscular forearms. your eyes drop down, struggling not to salivate at the sight. it really had been too long. he tips a finger under your chin, guiding your gaze back up to him. “i think the atmosphere’d be better someplace else,” he said, his voice low so as not to be overheard. maybe it was just how pent up you were, but you could swear there was desire undercutting his words. “whaddya say, darlin’? how ‘bout you and me get on outta here?”

you have to stop yourself from replying too quickly. you didn’t want to show your hand and reveal your desperation just yet. he smirked when you nodded slowly, your muscles tense with the effort of holding back your excitement. didn’t you know he could smell it on you from across the bar? ever the gentleman, phil closed out both your tabs. there wasn’t much on yours anyways, just a couple of budweisers and one vodka cranberry that you’d stopped drinking halfway through. as you stood beside him at the bar, watching the bartender run his card, he wrapped his arm around your waist. his fingers dug into the plush of your hip with a subtle possessiveness meant to ward off any other interested parties. it sent a thrill through you, your panties getting more uncomfortable the longer you stood there.

thankfully, the cool night air outside the bar leveled your head a bit. not enough to make you think deeply about your decision to get into a strange man’s truck, but enough to keep you from jumping his bones the moment the door shut. you climbed up into the passenger seat, feeling for your pepper spray in your purse. just in case, you told yourself. handsome men could be creeps too. you barely noticed him getting into the driver’s seat, turning the engine over and pulling out of the gravel parking lot.

you two make it maybe five miles down the road before you have to stop. you keep throwing glances at phil, watching his concentration while he drives. you’ve never been able to explain it, but there’s something so sexy about a man with one hand on the steering wheel and the other on your thigh. he keeps kneading into the fat, fingertips brushing the muscle underneath with how hard he’s squeezing. you’re soft, he thinks. plush, pliant, perfect. the air is charged, the silence comfortable but tinged with the anticipation of what’s to come. it’s when he feels your thighs clench together that he pulls off onto a little dirt road, the tires kicking up dust. on some level, you’re grateful for his lack of restraint. you weren’t sure you were going to last much longer either.

you clamber into his backseat, careful not to mar the leather with your stiletto heels. he climbs back there with you, settling into the seat and patting his thigh. “c’mere, pretty girl,” he says sweetly, and you maneuver yourself to straddle his lap. the heat of your cunt is right against him now and his hands clench around your hips. he can practically smell how needy you are. you bite your lip to stifle a whine, the firmness of him through his jeans providing delicious pressure on your clit. suddenly, you’re thanking god for little red dresses. phillip’s eyes flutter shut as he bucks his hips, pressing his erection against you a little harder. that elicits the sound he wanted and he chuckles, his laugh like rolling thunder.

“it’s been too long since that pretty pussy’s had any attention, huh, sweetheart?” he asks. you can hear a tone of condescension, but you don’t care. not when there is a warm body beneath you about to soothe the ache that’s been there since your ex moved out. you nod in response and he hums, tugging the straps of your dress down. “in a minute, darlin’. i’ll get to her later. there’s other parts of you i’d like to get acquainted with first.” you’re putty in his hands, mindlessly nodding along with everything he says. he could tell you he’s taking you out in the woods to kill you and you’d be fine with it as long as he fucked you first. the top half of your dress falls away as he tugs at the zipper, pulling it down just enough to reveal your chest. you’d made a good choice of bra that night at least: your favorite black push-up with lace all over and a pretty bow in the center. he sucks air in through his teeth as he stares at you. he likes it too.

“as pretty as this little number is, i don’t wanna ruin it,” he says, his fingers ghosting down your spine to the clasp of your bra. your back arches, pushing your breasts forward. he smiles and unhooks it with practiced ease, sliding the straps all the way down your arms and easing them over your hands. fire blazes a trail down your skin behind his touch, your face flushing a pretty shade of pink. the bra hits the leather seat to the left of you, but you don’t have time to see where it went. phillip’s hands are on your chest, kneading into your tits the same way he did your thigh. you moan, your head falling back as you lose yourself in the euphoria of being touched. “that’s it, baby. god, these tits are so perfect. fit in my hands so nicely.” he brushes his thumb over one of your nipples, making it stiffen. your nose scrunches, the thrill from the contact going straight between your legs.

before you can say anything in reply, the warmth of his mouth is latched around your breast, his tongue teasing at the hardened bud in the center. you swear you could cry as relief washes over you. you’d found what you were looking for, finally. god was real, and he came in the form of phillip graves. while he sucked at one nipple, he teased the other with his fingers, rolling it and giving it the occasional flick. already you could feel the pleasure tightening in your core, threatening to push you over the edge if you thought too hard about everything he was doing. your hips start to rock of their own accord, chasing friction against his lap. one of his large hands moves down to hold you in place, his mouth releasing your breast with a pop. “all in due time, sweetness. you’re not in a rush, now, are ya?” you shake your head, eyes wide as you stare back at him.

“good. ‘cause i intend to take my time and enjoy ya.” thankfully, he moves on from your breasts to other, more neglected areas of your body. he unzips your dress like he’s unwrapping god’s gift to earth, reverent as his eyes rake across every inch of exposed flesh. the glint in his eyes is primal, animalistic. he’d devour you if given the chance. despite the awkwardness, you shimmy your dress off, your heels falling off your feet with it. it all falls to the floor in a heap, leaving you in nothing but your panties. always one for fairness, phillip unbuttons his shirt, tossing it to the side before catching your lips. his hand snakes up your back to hold your head in place, the other winding around your waist to pull you impossibly closer. your chest presses against his and he moans into your mouth at the feeling.

slowly, that hand around your waist starts to sneak down, edging closer to the waistband of your underwear. you don’t notice, too enraptured by the taste of whiskey on his tongue. you feel it when his hand slides against you, though. the kiss is broken by your gasp, the simple proximity of his fingers enough to make your hips roll down in search of pleasure. the thunder in his chest rumbles again, the hand on the back of your head tightening. “that’s what you really wanted tonight, isn’t it? someone to give this pretty cunt what it’s been achin’ for.” words don’t come. your mind is too preoccupied with the warmth of his skin to string together syntax. phillip’s fingers wind around your hair, tugging at it roughly. your head jerks back and you whine. that shouldn’t have felt as good as it did. “gotta use your words, baby girl. gotta tell me what you want or i’m gonna stop.” no, you didn’t want that. “t-touch me,” you manage to stutter out, your neck bent at an awkward angle by the force of his hand. he lets go, rubbing his thumb over the scalp he’d irritated. “good girl. you follow orders well.”

his fingers run along your slit, gathering your wetness on his digits. he smiles, his voice dropping a register as he leans in closer to you. “so desperate, baby. i can feel how needy you are. just a bitch in heat, ain’tcha?” you keen, your head nodding of its own accord. deep in your subconscious, you knew he was right. some part of you wanted to be ashamed, but it wasn’t strong enough to fight to the forefront. all you felt was burning need coursing through your veins and leaking out between your legs. he pulled his hand away, bringing his fingers to his mouth and sucking your juices off of them. the sight of his face made you moan. he looked like a man enjoying his last meal, eyes shut and a content smile on his face. “delicious,” he said softly, bringing that same hand up to your face. he cups your cheek and runs his thumb over your bottom lip, feeling the softness of your skin under his calloused hand.

phillip guides your mouth towards his, capturing your lips in a heated kiss. it’s all tongues and teeth, desperate, messy. you can taste yourself on him, the salty remnants of you left behind on his tongue. while he has you distracted with his mouth, he lowers his hand between your legs, tugging your panties to the side. black and lacy, just like the bra. he liked a girl with a sense of style. without warning, two of his fingers thrust into you, making you see stars. you moan into his mouth as he scissors you open, preparing you for him. his mouth leaves yours, leaning to the side to whisper in your ear. “gonna take my cock so well, aren’t you, baby? gonna take it like the whore you are. so fuckin’ needy.”

his words made you blush, heat rushing to your core. he starts pumping his fingers in and out, holding you in place by the scruff of your neck. you writhe as much as you’re able, your body overwhelmed by all the sensations he was providing you. he chuckles lowly in your ear, the sound sending a chill down your spine. “i know you will, darlin’. i know you will. that pretty cunt is just swallowin’ my fingers. she’s a greedy little thing, ain’t she?” you couldn’t respond. it was hard enough for your brain to convert the sounds into meaningful words, let alone formulate a response. you were practically mute, save for the whimpers and mewls that flowed unbidden. he picks up the pace and your eyes screw shut, pressure building in your belly. “phil! ‘m gonna-” he cuts you off with another brutal kiss, his tongue bullying its way into your mouth.

all the while, you’re rocking your hips, letting the pleasure build. he pulls away, tilting your head down so that you’re looking into his eyes. “i’m gonna make you come on my fingers, then you’re gonna come on my cock like a good girl. understand?” his tone was forceful enough that you registered the command and you nodded along. you’d do anything he wanted if it meant he didn’t stop. he nodded back and focused in on you, his fingers curling right against that spongy spot deep inside you. “c’mon, baby. give it to me,” he said, his voice ragged as he watched your face. he knew you’d look so pretty falling apart on his lap. and you really did. the pressure released, setting your whole body trembling. you cried out, back arching. your mouth fell open, moaning as you rode out the wave of pleasure. as soon as you’d caught your breath, he yanked his fingers away, leaving you empty and dripping all over the seat. you whined at the loss, but you weren’t empty long. 

he freed himself from his jeans and underwear, giving himself a couple pumps before guiding his leaking cockhead to your warmth. you whine as he taps it against your clit, his ragged breathing the only reply. when you open your eyes and look at him, he looks just as debauched as you feel. feeling you clench around his fingers, watching your face, it had done something to him. without another word, he pushes himself inside. just a little bit at first, and you’re thankful for it. the tip of him is already stretching you wider than your biggest toy. he holds your chin in his thumb and forefinger, guiding your eyes down to his. “you’re doing so good, you pretty thing. need ya to give me one more. think you can do that for me?” you nod, letting gravity sink you a little further down on his cock. he hisses through clenched teeth, cheeks burning red.

phillip’s hands on your hips are steadying, easing you down until he’s bottomed out inside you. the moan you let out is a sound you’re wholly unfamiliar with. wanton, crass, loud to boot. he groans alongside you, his fingers digging into the plush of your ass. you give yourself a moment to adjust to the fullness. he’s not longer than you can handle, but he’s thick, stretching your walls as much as they can take. the burn fades into something warmer, something softer, and that’s when you know you can give him another. you start to bounce up and down, slowly at first before picking up the pace. his head leans back against the seat, reveling in the feeling of your warmth wrapped around him. “fuck, baby! you take me so well, knew you would. this pussy’s so good, so wet. all for me, all fuckin’ mine.”

his words are slurred, his tongue heavy in his mouth as he lets himself get drunk on the pleasure. you’re not far behind, the tip of his cock brushing against your g-spot every time you sink down onto his lap. he presses his hips into yours, thrusting into you to shove himself deeper. you moan into his ear, bracing yourself as your shaking thighs try desperately to keep up. that’s when he starts helping, lifting you up and spearing you on his cock over and over. your eyes roll back in your head and the pressure builds again before you even know what’s happening. all of a sudden, you’re hovering right over the edge, breath heavy and head fuzzy. you must have tightened around him because phil makes an absolutely unholy noise, his head falling back against the seat.

“god damn,” he breathes out, a hand leaving your hip to tug at your hair. it was so attractive, the way he lifted you on his lap like you weighed nothing. your head falls back as he yanks at the roots of your hair, the jolt of pain threatening to push you over the edge. he’s moaning right alongside you, watching the way your tits bounce and your body jiggles as you bounce on his cock. “need you to come again, sweetness,” he says, tilting your head so you’re looking at him. “look me in the eye, don’t you stop lookin’ at me.” you obey, letting the pleasure build in you as he pushes himself impossibly deeper. his gaze is intense, unwavering. the pressure, the fullness is all too much and you tip over, your walls gripping him in a vice as you come.

that turns him into an animal, rutting into you with abandon as you ride out your orgasm. just when it gets to be too much, when you’re about to tap out, the warmth of his spend floods into you. you whine at the sensation, too lost in your own head to relish in the sounds he made. some men liked to talk through it, mumble out some incoherent praise or compliments. not phil. no, he moaned. the sounds fell from his lips as his hips stuttered, his fingers digging painfully into your skin. the hand in your hair tightens as well, causing you to hiss in pain. he doesn’t even register the sound, too lost in his own pleasure.

when his eyes finally meet yours again, they look much like your own. blissed out blues meet your cumdrunk gaze. his chest heaves as he slides himself out of you, pulling you down to lay against him. his spend drips out of you and you begin to protest, but he shushes you. “‘s alright, darlin’. i’m gettin’ the truck detailed tomorrow.” you settle, catching your breath as your ear presses against his chest. you can hear his heart thundering in his chest, threatening to beat right out of his skin. “you did so good for me,” he says, raking his fingers through your hair. “such a good, obedient girl.”

you smile at the praise, his words warming something deep within you. “same time next week?” he asks, and you nod. finally, you’d found what you were looking for.