#like girl i do NOT have the patience to keep track of all those little details lol

[dagmartoons]

all hail the demon queen of twitch

[ihavemanyhusbands]

Bloodhound

Also on AO3

Pairing: Cooper Howard/The Ghoul x Fem!Reader

Summary: Before meeting the ghoul, you worked as a courier. After striking a mutually beneficial deal with him, you become a bounty hunter, but it’s clear that your dynamic is much more complicated than that.

WC: 2.5k words

Warnings: MINORS DNI THIS FIC IS 18+, pet play (implied), porn with little plot, dom/sub dynamics, mentions of violence, both praise and degradation, light dehumanization, the ghoul calls you ‘mutt’, unprotected p in v (DO NOT), radiated creampie (dw they use radaway after the fic is over lmao), oral (m receiving), aaaand thats all i can think of but lmk if i missed anything!

A/N: Shoutout to @finniestoncrane who posted an amazing fic w/ the same kink that made me feel brave enough to post this dirty lil fic i could not get out of my head these past weeks :D

——————

A loud, high pitched whistle made you pause mid-sentence. You recognized it as a sign that time was almost up, and you better get some answers before he lost his patience altogether.

You sighed, closing your eyes for a moment before looking back at the small shop’s vendor. 

“You said you heard he was going north?” You asked.

He crossed his arms over his chest. “Yes, heard him mention something about one of those mini-marts. You know the kind. There’s two on the way to Shady Sands that might be worth checking.”

You swallowed hard, but hid your discomfort. “And he was gone yesterday morning? Alone?”

“Yeah, as far as I know he arrived alone, too.”

“You weren’t curious enough to ask?”

“Not the kind to ask raiders more questions than I need to.”

You stared at him for a moment, trying to gauge if he was telling the truth or not. He had no reason to be helping raiders, but that didn’t mean he wouldn’t have other reasons to lie. 

He cleared his throat and looked around to make sure no one was eavesdropping. He’d been eyeing the clunky, collar-like tracking device around your neck, unsure of what it meant or who exactly was tracking you. Clearly, he didn’t intend to find out.

“Alright, I’ve told you enough. You better get out of here before anyone else starts asking questions.”

You nodded once, knowing better than to push your luck. You took three caps out of a hidden pouch on your belt and tossed them at him. 

“Thanks,” you said, turning on your heel and making your way back out of the narrow alleyway.

The ghoul was leaning against the wall just out of view, the brim of his hat pulled low. You caught the edge of his grin as you approached, and he pushed off the wall to fall into step next to you.

“Well?” He asked, keeping his voice low and casual.

You relayed the information you’d acquired about the target — a bounty he’d picked up a few days earlier, at another settlement. A raider had wreaked havoc there and killed two in the process, so the families were looking for some justice.

Easy enough to take care of, the ghoul had figured, and all for a decent price. So he’d immediately put you on his trail, as he always did. Much easier for smoothies to be asking questions and actually get some answers — Not everyone tolerated his kind.

You had a few opinions on what to do next, but you kept them to yourself, knowing he wouldn’t want them unless he’d specifically asked. He hummed, the gears in his mind already turning. 

You peered at him sideways, wondering what his strategy would be. He didn’t often let you in on them unless it was necessary, but based on what you’d experienced so far, you at least trusted his cleverness.

“Good girl, that’s real useful,” he said finally, seemingly satisfied with what he was coming up with.

He flicked your chin up with his knuckle in what could almost be called affection, but not quite. You carefully hid the secret pleasure you felt at his praise, averting your gaze. Somehow, even at his meanest, he always managed to make it sound so good — at least in the same way a bruise felt good.

Formerly, in your life as a courier, you’d been severely underestimated many times. Traveling alone, especially, had its disadvantages, but it wasn’t brute strength that had so far kept you alive. You were cunning too, in your own way. 

Always keenly observant of your surroundings, picking up clues that most would miss. You were generally pretty reserved anyway, preferring to stay quiet and listen. It was easy for you to blend in with your surroundings, seemingly harmless, and people often let their guard down around you. Big mistake on their part.

The ghoul had taken notice of you, though. It had been months ago, at some repurposed saloon further up north, where there was a lot of foot traffic. It was really easy to get jobs there, or exchange information, so you often passed through. As it happened, so did he, and he’d kept an eye out after you initially caught his attention.

Once he’d learned just how useful you’d actually be to him, well… he just couldn’t pass up an opportunity like that. He had a certain way with words, exuding charm, knowing very well how to get what he wanted. Despite most people’s apprehension of ghouls, you didn’t really mind them as long as they weren’t feral and trying to bite your face off. 

Clearly, he wasn’t that type. So, you’d made an agreement of sorts with him, splitting the profits sixty-forty for every bounty fulfilled. Easy money, you figured, and some company to boot. More safety in numbers, after all, especially with someone as skilled as him. 

But from the get go, he always made it abundantly clear that he was the one calling the shots. There had been no room for argument on that, though strangely enough, you had felt a certain sense of freedom by submitting to it.

The tracking device he’d clasped around your neck soon after was just a little extra precaution, he had said. You had relatively free rein, but still he didn’t let you stray too far. And if you did, then his lasso would work as a makeshift leash to drag you back. 

Later on, when you’d developed a system of communication without words – especially for greater distances – you realized it’d felt more like training, in a way. Bending you to his will, sometimes with more charm, others with what he called discipline. And soon enough, after nights of growing closeness and a simmering tension, rewards also came into play. 

In the end, it all worked out, and before you knew it, the two of you were running like a well oiled machine. The hunter and his bloodhound. 

You started the trek north, taking advantage of the daylight. You kept your eyes peeled for any distinct tracks or other clues. When you saw an old, rundown shack in the near distance, you glanced back at him and then trotted off as soon as he nodded. 

Once you’d cleared it, you returned to where he was and continued on your way. Three more times, you checked abandoned buildings, but there was nothing of note in any of them. 

The first mini-mart you arrived at turned out to be more useful. The ghoul helped you interrogate a couple of raiders you’d found holing up there. They weren’t very forthcoming at first, but you left the jostling to him, given that it was his specialty. 

Soon enough, he managed to knock a couple of answers out of them, and then you were on your way again. You settled in an abandoned, half-collapsed house for the evening, a fire burning before the sun even finished setting. 

He sat on the other side of it, silently sharpening his machete, lost in thought. You looked off into the middle distance, unbothered by the quiet. It was a welcome reprieve after a long day, when all you wanted to do was unwind.

But that wasn’t to say it was always easy, even if you were on the brink of exhaustion. Sometimes you just needed a little extra help to get you there.

The ghoul noticed the tense set of your shoulders and your restless shifting. He heard the soft sighs you weren’t even aware you were letting out, short and almost impatient. But what could you possibly be waiting for?

His eyes lingered pensively on the tracking device, like a mark of his ownership, before trailing lower, towards your chest. He licked his lips, a few ideas coming to mind. 

“Say… how would you like a little treat for doin’ such a good job today?” He drawled, a roguish grin on his face as one of his hands came to rest heavily on his belt buckle.

Your attention was drawn there, but you quickly looked back up at his face. Instead of giving in to the impulse to nod eagerly, you bit your lip and decided to test the waters just a little bit.

“A treat, hmm?” you said, slightly tilting your head to one side, a sly smile tugging at your lips.

He nodded, adjusting his position lazily, hips bucking. “Oh yes, I’m feelin’ quite generous today, and you’ve earned it.”

This time you couldn’t hide the effect his words had on you, and he chuckled. Truth be told, you’d had this in mind all day, a craving that would not go away until you had him. It was why you’d gone the extra mile, knowing it wouldn’t escape his notice. He’d gotten real good at reading your moods, after all.

“Come sit pretty for me over here, why don’t’cha?” He said and tapped his foot on the ground, spurs jingling softly. 

You made your way over to him and knelt at his feet. He bent forward, looming over you, and grasped your chin with a gloved hand. 

“Well, ain’t you just the most obedient little thing? I’ve got you well trained, don’t I?” he said, his eyes roaming over your face. “Go on now, get your treat.”

He let go of your face and leaned back, adjusting his hips to bring them closer to you. Your fingers shook only slightly as you deftly undid his belt, then bent your head to undo the zipper with your teeth. There was a low sound of approval in his throat as you tugged his pants down, along with his underwear.

Your mouth watered at the sight of his hardening cock, the head of it lazily resting against his lower abdomen. You were about to curl your fingers around the shaft, but he shook his head.

“No hands,” he said, clicking his tongue. “You don’t need to use your hands anymore.”

You nodded, sticking out your tongue as your head dipped once more. You licked a long, languid stripe up the length of it, making it twitch in response. He sighed a rough good girl as his legs widened to adjust his position, a gloved hand resting on your head. 

Your lips wrapped around the tip, teasing it with little flicks of your tongue. He grunted, his hips jutting upwards. Your mouth was warm and wet and inviting as his cock slid inside it with ease. His head tipped back in ecstasy for a moment before he looked back down to watch you take it deeper into your throat. 

“Fuckin’ hell,” he said, his voice thick with lust. “I must’ve been real lucky to find such a good lil cocksucker like you.”

You moaned around him, shifting your knees as you felt yourself growing wetter. Your head bobbed up and down at an almost hypnotic pace, hands straining at your sides to keep yourself from using them.

When you reached the base, his cock fully sheathed in your throat, he kept your head down for a moment. You fought the urge to gag, breathing slowly through your nose. 

Then he let you come up for air, the lower half of your face a slobbery mess as you panted. Your eyes were glazed over with desire as you looked up at him, and his cock twitched. 

“Such a pretty mutt, aren’t’cha? I bet you’re all soaked and ready for me,” he rasped, holding your gaze as your tongue lavished his balls with some attention. 

He sucked in a breath through his teeth, feeling himself start to near the edge. But he didn’t want to get there quite yet, and he didn’t want it to be in your mouth this time.

Still, he allowed himself a moment longer, his hand pushing your head to press your face against his cock, hips rocking slightly. Your tongue was still out, trying to catch whatever skin it could, and he let out a deep groan.

“Alright, don’t get too excited now. Turn around and let me take a look.”

You did as told, hastily pulling your pants and underwear down to your knees and presenting yourself for him. You watched him tug his gloves off over your shoulder, appraising you with hungry eyes, and then he knelt behind you.

“My, oh my…” he said as some of your arousal dripped onto the ground. “Just as I thought… Let’s see if she’s ready for me.”

You felt the head of his cock prodding at your entrance, slowly pushing inside. Eagerly, you pushed your hips back to take more of him, but he stopped you by grabbing your hips.

“Easy, easy,” he chuckled. “You want me to fuck you that bad, huh?”

You nodded, whimpering a little as he thrusted shallowly, stretching you further to accommodate him.  

“Please,” you breathed, your voice broken by desperation, and he pushed your head to the ground.

“It’s cute when you whine like a bitch in heat,” he cooed, fingers digging into the flesh of your hips. “Now stay there and take it like the good girl I know y’are.”

Once he was able to fully slide in and out of you with little pushback, his thrusts gradually got faster. You moaned with each rough snap of his hips, deliriously chanting fuck, fuck, fuck under your breath.

He felt impossibly deep at that angle, practically driving you into the ground. One of his hands cracked down on your ass, making you flinch from surprise, your cunt squeezing him hard.

He growled at that, fucking you harder while tugging your hips backwards to meet his thrusts. He was repeatedly hitting a sensitive spot that had your vision going white, eclipsing everything else.

“God damn, this pussy’s so good to me,” he groaned, smacking your ass once more. “You enjoyin’ your treat? Huh?”

“Yes,” you gasped, legs kicking slightly at the intensity, eyes rolling to the back of your head. “I-I’m gonna… Can I cum? Please?”

He was pleased that you’d still thought to ask, but he was too keen on pleasing you at that moment to deny you. “Go on, I’ve got you. Come all over my cock.”

The orgasm rocked throughout your body, every one of your muscles taut as you unraveled. His name spilling from your lips as a whimper, something to cling onto. The way your cunt greedily, and oh so sweetly, squeezed his cock then had him right behind you. 

A rough, feral sound escaped him as his hips snapped against you one last time, spilling hotly inside of you. Your walls continued to flutter in the aftermath, milking out his own pleasure. 

After, he pulled out to get a look at the mess he’d made of you. Hummed with self satisfaction as he saw his spend trickling out of you, like another mark of his ownership.

Your head swam as if you were drunk, but still you smiled at him over your shoulder beatifically. Mischief danced in your eyes, but he’d already known it had been your plan to end up there all along.

“Always so eager to please.” He returned the grin slyly. “Maybe I ought to give you treats more often, if you keep it up.”

Perhaps it hadn’t been his intention, but you took those words as a challenge all the same. 

--------

[retroaria]

Hey hey I hope u doin well :) I would like to request a wind breaker headcannon when their girl is really sassy/badmouth like swaering and gets herself into trouble. Maybe for Suo , Kaji, Sakura, Toma and Umemiya :).

a/n: i’m notoriously not good at writing for hiragi so i apologize for excluding him :( thank you so much for the request and i appreciate your patience!! <3

• | WIND BREAKER M.LIST | •

Suō finds your behavior rather entertaining, so much so that he lets it go on longer than it should some times. Not that he finds it humorous or anything - he finds it really attractive actually.

he loves watching you handle your own and be fierce about it, sometimes leans over and makes a cat growling noise in your ear (such a cheeky loser lol)

defends you with the biggest smile on his face, “sorry, she’s a hot head.” - he’s not sorry at all and he’s about to go give you a fist bump for telling the person off.

if ever he finds you biting off more than you can chew, he steps in and handles the rest for you. you guys are kind of evil, an evil team if you will. (it’s pretty romantic!)

kaji’s favorite little moment of life with you is when he gets to say “i told you so.” not only does it grant him exclusive access to the adorable pouty face you make while he teases you, it also makes him feel less guilty for not actually stopping you from running your mouth and getting into trouble.

“i told you not to do that.” sure he did! once or twice…maybe…under his breath as to not distract you from unleashing your rath. seriously though, for as much distaste as he shows in your rowdiness, he can’t hide the little smirk that gives him away while he sits back and watches you go off. he isn’t sure if he should be amused, proud, or concerned, but somehow he’s all of the above.

kaji’s biggest fear would be you causing some sort of drama in the community, and the rest of the guys have to start keeping tabs on you. so he keeps tabs on you himself and lends a hand when he sees necessary. he’s also sure to cover your tracks and would defend you with his life (unless he gets bored and realizes it’s pointless but in that case he knows you can figure it out on your own) partners in crime!

umemiya pretends to have zero recollection when a story of your aggressive misadventures is mentioned to him. “whaaaaat she didn’t do that, pffft- and if she did i’m sure she had a reason…yeah…” he must’ve been out of town that weekend. he loves you with all your fiery rage of course, but some of the stuff you’ve done really makes his head spin (in a simultaneously loving and nauseating way)

he gives you the same pep talks he gives the other guys in bofurin and encourages you to fight every battle with a purpose. once you get the hang of that he’s sure to let you know that “because i wanted to” and “because i can” are not good enough reasons to curse someone out and threaten to have your boyfriend come and beat them up. (he knew what he was signing up for)

despite the different ground you both stand on in certain situations, he loves that you’re strong and independent and sees those qualities as being forever beneficial, so he wouldn’t change you for the world. maybe just change your approach! i’m sure that would spare him a few drops of sweat and flustered apologies on your behalf.

sakura is truly not fond of how many uncomfortable (and slightly dangerous?) situations you’ve roped him into. hes got hands for days, but he can’t really formulate full sentences sometimes, so he tends to take the back seat and silently beg you to stop and leave them alone and just go home or else they’re gonna get even more angry and- oh but if that actually happens suddenly he’s pumped and ready to hand out mean left hooks like it’s nothing.

he can’t quite wrap his head around how quickly and fearlessly you engage in aggressive verbal confrontation without just rolling your sleeves up before even opening your mouth. he finds it just as admirable as it is scary.

unlike umemiya, knowing you threatened some asshole trying to mess with you that HE was gonna come and mess them up gives him instant gratification. he’s on the way! actually he was probably already there with you and as soon as you stopped yelling and he could take his hands off his ears he’s ready to defend your honor. he’s the robin to your batman sometimes, but just let him believe he’s batman, for his sake and yours.

wooo another wind breaker post for the books!!! i’m sorry i’m a sleeper agent when it comes to writing anything besides blue lock but have faith in me guys -aria

[inkykeiji]

you be my revolver, i got you in my hands

character: choso kamo x fem!reader

genre: curseless!au, smut

notes: eeee first choso piece ever!!! i had such a blast writing this and i wish i could’ve gotten it finished in time for christmas but alas! anyway, please enjoy this and as always please heed the warnings below and stay safe! | title credit: girl like me by dove cameron

warnings: 18+ minors do not interact, pseudocest (reader + choso are family friends), age gap, bratty reader, rough sex, minimal prep, teasing, hints of manipulation, hints of dubcon, size kink, pet names

words: 6k

synopsis:

“Maybe you should stop calling me that.” “What? Why?” you pout, blinking up at him, sugared innocence coating your tone. “I thought you wanted me to call you big brother…I thought I was allowed to…”  “Bi-Big brothers don’t do stuff like this with their little sisters—” “Well, it’s a good thing we’re not actually related then, isn’t it, onii-chan.” 

Choso can’t remember the last time he saw you.

You’ve known each other for a long time—so long Choso’s lost count of the years, now, having met you when Yuuji was just a toddler (and you were, too) at the bus stop on Yuuji’s first day of Pre-K, only to discover you lived a mere few houses from each other—but you haven’t seen each other in a long time, too. 

It’s not through fault of either of you; life had gotten in the way, as it has a tendency to do so, had grown busy with intricacies and obligations that demanded time and attention, tangling around you and keeping you apart. 

You had both embarked on university endeavours; him pursuing his PhD, you continuing your undergrad, had both stuffed more and more into your lives—art shows and book readings and music festivals and tropical trips—and lost space for each other in the process.

Choso can’t remember the last time he saw you, but it feels as though no time has passed at all, as it normally does with family—you’re still just as bratty as you’ve always been (some things never change, he guesses; some things you’ll never grow out of, he supposes). 

Family.

Family is not a word he uses lightly, but you and yours had quickly become his and theirs, had quickly become ours, morphing from neighbours to friends to practically kin, members mixing to form something special, a hybrid of some sort, stuck somewhere between long-standing family friends and blood relatives. 

Which is why how you’re acting—how you’ve been acting, this entire winter break—is so undeniably inappropriate. 

And although he’s lost track of the years, everything beginning to blur together, to melt and flow and shift and breathe, he still remembers the day he told you to call him onii-chan. 

That he doesn’t think he’ll ever forget.

Yuuji’s so lucky, you had pouted, kicking at the sandy ground with the toe of your shoe and swaying a little on the swing. He has a big brother. I don’t. I’ve always wished I had one. Sighing, you looked away, fingers tangling in the chain. But I’ll never get one; it’s impossible. 

It’s not impossible, Choso had responded gently, nudging his swing against your own. I’ll be your big brother, if you want. 

And you—well, you had been so incredibly happy, all bright smiles and sunshine eyes and breathless giggles, to have a big brother to call your own.

Never in his life did he think he’d come to regret such a decision.

But you seem to be on a mission to make him, this Christmas.

Because you’re really testing his fucking patience, this Christmas.

The term of endearment oozes from your lips as if it’s melted in the wet heat of your mouth every single time, always paired with your worst behaviour: bending over in those short, sweet, slutty skirts and flashing cute Christmas panties at him; placing a hand much too high to be appropriate on his thigh as you watch a film together, leaning close to his ear to murmur out a silky question you already know the answer to; twining your ankles with his beneath the dinner table and gazing at him with eyes full of sin, leaning so far forward on the table that your tits swell, nearly spilling from the too-low neckline of your dress, then giggling when you catch him ogling. 

As a result, he’s been meticulous about avoiding being alone in a room with you—he doesn’t trust himself, doesn’t trust what he might do, especially if you start playing your little games—but he should’ve known it would only be a matter of time until you get want you want. 

Because it always is. 

And on Christmas Eve, you finally succeed. 

Somehow, you’ve managed to get him alone in his childhood bedroom—something about wanting to flip through his old sketchbooks, to search for some doodles he had drawn for you many years ago, to rip the pages from the spiral-bound spine and stuff them in your back pocket, for safekeeping, you had claimed. 

Tugging at his heartstrings, that’s how you succeeded. 

Sitting on the edge of his small twin bed, thighs slotted up against one another and both of your arms looped around one of his, he flips through the curling pages of his drawings, smudged with graphite and pastels. 

“Oh, I remember this one!” 

A dainty finger points to a cute kitten sketched out in astonishing detail, with a pink nose and a satin ribbon tied in a bow around its neck. 

“It’s you,” he smirks. “You asked me what animal you’d be, and then demanded I draw you as a kitten when I responded with a cat.” 

“You drew a lot of me,” you lean forward, swelling breasts pressed flush to his bicep, a palm sitting high on his thigh as avid eyes scan over the spread, gaze stuttering as it sweeps from doodle to doodle. 

“I drew a lot for you,” he says, the observation entirely unthinking. “You wanted a specific page, but I might as well give you this whole sketchbook. More than half the pieces in here are for you.” 

It’s a fact that shocks him in its authenticity, a realization that sends a painful, sick thrill searing through his body, saliva beginning to collect in the dips beneath his tongue.

“I’m such a lucky girl,” you hum out in a sigh, nuzzling your cheek into his arm and looking up at him with shimmering eyes. “I have such a good big brother.” 

“You’re spoiled,” he says, but his voice holds no malice, eyes softening as he stares down at you, a small smile on his lips. 

“I dunno about that,” you frown, but mischief glints in your eye. “You haven’t really given me what I’ve wanted all holiday…” 

Blood turns to shards of ice in his veins, whole body going rigid as his breath stalls in his throat, pounding heartbeat reverberating in his ears. 

“Wh-What’s that?”

He doesn’t want to ask it, doesn’t mean to ask it, but the question claws at his tongue, pries past his teeth and tumbles from his lips in a ragged, tangled heap.

And the smile that spreads across your face is nothing short of sinister, that glint flaring to a sharp shine as your pupils breathe, pulse, swallow him whole. 

“A Christmas kiss,” you say, stare unblinking and intense as your hand slips between his legs, rubbing little circles into his inner thigh, a mere centimetre or two away from his cock. 

The motion makes him jolt, hips involuntarily twitching toward your touch, brushing his half-hard cock against your knuckles.

“That’s all I want,” you sigh almost dreamily, tits pressed harder into his bicep as you lean closer, so tight they’re practically being squeezed from your sweetheart neckline. “A kiss from my onii-chan. Though…” 

Trailing off, your hand slides up a little further, pinky and ring finger tiptoeing along the rapidly hardening lump in his jeans, squealing out a short giggle as it jumps beneath your touch.

“I’m not sure that’s all onii-chan wants.”

“Onii-chan doesn’t want anything from you,” he breathes out, but his voice is rough, unconvincing, his hands curled into firm fists on his bedspread, trembling slightly, skin stretched taut across pointed knuckles.

“Another lie,” your lips tug down, voice saturated with disappointment. “You know, good big brothers don’t lie to their siblings,” you fix him with a look, glaring through feathery lashes, expression teetering dangerously on the edges of a pout.

A shiver skitters through his bones, whole body stiffening. His jaw flexes as he grinds his molars, a slow, controlled breath exhaled out his nose, his eyes flicking down. You’re still touching him, two fingertips rubbing gentle circles into his clothed cock.

“Maybe you should stop calling me that.”

“What? Why?” you pout, blinking up at him, sugared innocence coating your tone. “I thought you wanted me to call you big brother…I thought I was allowed to…” 

“Bi-Big brothers don’t do stuff like this with their little sisters—”

“Well, it’s a good thing we’re not actually related then, isn’t it, onii-chan.” 

“That—That—” he swallows hard, dense saliva pooling at the back of his tongue. “That doesn’t matter—We shouldn’t—”

“But—” your lip juts out further, forehead crinkling. “But I want to.” 

You can’t always get what you want. 

That’s what he wants to tell you. That’s what he wishes he could tell you. But it just isn’t fucking true, when it comes to you. 

“Stop,” he says instead, and although it’s supposed to be an order, it comes out as a plead, his voice hoarse, strained, thin, the proclamation high and false and tinny. 

“You’re a terrible liar,” the tip of your index finger traces the head, looking up at him through your lashes. “Did you know that?” 

He does, he does know that. He’s a terrible liar, eyes too honest, voice too sincere, expressions too candid, always giving away his true intentions and forthright thoughts.

He’s a terrible discipliner, too, incapable of saying no, of refusing his siblings anything. You know this, too. 

“St—” he tries to force the word from his tongue again, protest sticking in his throat. Stop, stop, he wants you to stop, he needs you to stop, please. 

But that’s a lie, too, the rejection refusing to take shape, to mold into something audible, something tangible, something worthwhile. 

No matter how much he wishes it were true, he can’t will it to become true—not when he wants this just as badly as you do, his straining cock exposing his real desires to you.

You’ve already taken full notice of it, yearning for you through rough denim, hot and hard and throbbing. The pad of your finger rubs over the slit in rhythmic motions, smooth and gliding, aided by the copious amount of pre-cum oozing through the material, and it jerks beneath your touch, eager for more attention. 

“It’s so hard, onii-chan,” your hand cups the impressive bulge, rolling it in your palm, a girlish giggle tickling your tongue. “It—It’s throbbing, onii-chan.” 

“Yeah? And who’s fault is that?” he breathes, attempting to keep his tone stern and his eyes stony. 

“It’s making me want to ride it,” you whimper loudly, squeezing your thighs together, completely ignoring his question. “Oh, please, onii-chan, can I ride your cock?” 

“Fu-fuck,” the curse breaks on his tongue, eyes shut tightly, breaking away from your invasive stare. “Fuck, fuck, f-fuck.” 

No. 

“I’d really like to ride it, onii-chan.”

No. 

“Can I? Pretty please?”

No-no-no-no-no! 

He wants to say no. He should say no. It’s the right thing to do. 

He’s the older brother, the eldest brother, it’s his duty to say no, to mentor, to lead by example. 

But he can’t. 

He can’t form the word in his throat, can’t mold it into a sound and push it from his mouth. 

He’s never truly been able to, when it comes to you—and he was so fucking stupid to think he would.

Because, as always, you are making it exceptionally difficult to deny, gazing up at him with shimmering eyes like that, mouth licked raw in anticipation, bottom lip bitten puffy from the front teeth constantly sinking into it.

“I—It isn’t right—” he attempts, swallowing thickly, cords in his neck straining, desperately attempting to quell the tremor in his voice.

He knows you don’t care. If he’s being entirely honest with himself, he doesn’t, either, his morality eroded to nothing more than a farce, a thin façade, not nearly strong enough to force him into doing the right thing, not nearly strong enough to fortify his rapidly waning self-discipline.

“I—I won’t tell,” you whimper, and he can see the fine film of tears lacquering your eyes, shielding lust-blown pupils. “Pinky promise! I just—I just want you so badly,” your nose twitches cutely with a sniffle, your bottom lip beginning to waver with infinitesimal quivers, soft palm caressing his cock like you love it. “Please, onii-chan?”

And Christ, you’re so pretty, so pouty, with your glistening puppy-dog eyes and pleads dripping from your lips like thick syrup. 

How could he possibly say no to something so precious? How could anyone?

“Alright,” he whispers, defeated, eyes squeezing shut as he nods. “If it’ll make you happy.”

“Really?”

And just like that, the tears are incinerated from your eyes, gaze bright and blazing with excitement, lips molded into a brilliant smile. 

You look so sickeningly beautiful when you get what you want. 

“Yes,” he nearly whimpers, and it’s pathetic, his hips twitching up into your touch, craving, desperate. “Yes, yes, ride my cock.” 

The affirmative is all you need, squealing a little with happiness as you climb into his lap, fingers up your own skirt to push your soaked panties to the side, other hand pawing clumsily at his waistband.

“Thank you,” you breathe, the words soaking into his neck, sealed with a sloppy kiss. “Oh, thank you, onii-chan.” 

He can’t help but chuckle a little as his hands find your waist, instinctive, steadying you. 

“Eager little thing, aren’t you.”

“This is all I want,” you tell him, pulling back a little to search his face. “S’all I’ve wanted for a long time.” 

He wants to ask you to elaborate on that, confusion warping his brow, but then you’re yanking at his belt loops and pulling at his zipper and wrapping a soft palm around the base of his cock, a heavy groan vibrating in his throat. 

“Wait, wait!” he chokes on a gasp as you hover over his cock, head bumping against your hole. “Let me—”

“I don’t wanna wait,” you whine out, petulant and stringy, whole face scrunched in frustration. “I’ve been waiting! I want your cock in me now!”

Fuck, you’re such a fucking brat, he’s growling as he forces you down on his cock in one swift motion, the sudden intrusion pushing a yelp from your lips. Your forehead knocks against his, sugar-stained breath wafting across his face, his tongue darting out to mop up remnants from his mouth. 

It’s really cute, the way your little cunt spasms around his shaft as he bottoms out, pressed snug and tight against your cervix, desperate in its attempt to adjust to his girth. It’s really sweet, the way your body splits itself open for him, cracking at the core and struggling to swallow him down.

“Oh, it’s so big, onii-chan!” 

“God,” he nearly sobs. “You’re gonna be the fuckin’ death of me, y’know that?” 

Giggling, you wind your arms around his neck tighter, nuzzling your cheek into his skin, then stringing a garland of wet kisses along the line of his jaw. 

“S’really thick, Choso-nii,” you tell him honestly, nodding in lethargic little motions. “I feel so full, onii-chan.” 

A laugh falls from his lips, breathy and exalted. 

“I don’t know if it’s that I’m big, or if it’s just that your cunt is so fucking small,” his voice tapers off into a whine, raspy and gruff. 

“H-Hurts a little, onii-chan,” you admit in a whimper, hips shifting in experimental little movements, conjuring a groan from deep within his chest. 

“Yeah? And who’s fault is that, huh?” he asks for the second time in fifteen minutes. “Who was too impatient to let onii-chan prep her?”

“Don’t care,” you mumble. “Wanted you s’bad.” 

He laughs again, warm and gentle and full of love, his hands squeezing your hips just enough to make you gasp, fingertips pressing his name into your flesh in blotchy little ovals of purple. 

“You have me,” he says, his words ringing clear and true with a painful sincerity. 

The vibrations of your responding hum seep from your chest into his, and he sighs, body deflating against yours, pleasant little tingles snuggling between his ribs. 

You stay like that for a moment to two, wound up in one another, chests pressed flush, breathing as one. Your auras ebb and flow, presences bleeding, tangling together and creating something that is neither one nor the other but both, a single shared entity. 

And it’s nice, it’s real, it’s natural.

But then you become impatient, as you normally do, as he knew you would, wiggling a little in his lap, fingers twining in the strands at the base of his neck. 

“Go on, sweetheart,” he urges gently. “Ride onii-chan’s cock.” 

And so you do, hips beginning to roll in slow, languid circles, fingers still laced at the back of his skull, half-buried in messy ink.

He allows you to set the pace, allows you to take your time, allows you to enjoy and savour every rock and grind and bounce, staring at you through heavily lidded eyes, hands on your waist merely guiding you—keeping you stable, just like a big brother should. 

He’s absolutely breathtaking; gaze glittering in the dim light overflowing with awe, spit-slicked lips licked raw and shimmering as his tongue glides over them again, swollen and bitten cherry red.

You can’t help but reach out to trace his features; the strong line of his brow, the delicate curve of his cheek, the enticing bow of his lips, hips slowing to uneven little ruts as you hone your focus, his eyes observing you with a sick sort of fascination.

“Did you—Have you—Have you thought about this before?” 

The question stings his tongue, revulsion flushing through his blood as guilt pricks his flesh, his cock throbbing eagerly.

“Course I have,” you breathe out with a little laugh, as if he’s so silly for thinking you might not have. “Actually, I—I—”

A sudden shyness overtakes you, an unsure giggle on your lips fading into a soft squeal as you hide in his shoulder, shaking your head a little. 

“What? Huh?” he shrugs, nudging your face up gently, curiosity clawing at his irises as they search your face, voracious. “What?” 

“Well, sometimes I…” 

The words tangle in your throat and you choke on them, gaze fleeing his own, and you shake your head again, chest beginning to stammer.

“It’s okay,” he says softly, rubbing reassuring circles into your flesh. “You can tell onii-chan, go on.” 

There are tears in your eyes now, mouth wobbling a little with the verging confession, and God, that’s so hot, why is that so fucking hot? 

“Where’s my brave little sister gone now? Hmm?”

“M’right here, onii-chan,” you whisper, face teetering on a wince, as if you’re bracing for a blow, terrified to admit to him, fearing reprimand. “It’s just that—Sometimes I do, um, really bad things with my stuffies while—while thinking about you…” 

Dewdrops of shame glitter in your lashes as your lids flutter, nose scrunching with a soft sniffle, tears breaking free of their wispy confines to roll down your cheeks in fat, glimmering streams—so fucking beautiful in the dim light of his bedroom—but you don’t dare break his stare, gazing at him through a thick shield of water. 

“Oh, Christ,” he coughs on the curse, hands flexing on your waist, blunt nails digging into your skin. “And what—what do you think about?” 

“Um,” your gaze flits from his own, to his wrinkled bedspread, then back to his face, wide and honest. “Riding you, like this. And—And riding your thighs, makin’ a real mess all over them, and your thick fingers too, filling me up…” 

Bolts of dizziness sear his brain as his lungs deflate, oxygen eaten up by pure lust and leaving his chest buzzing, burning, some sort of response mangling itself in his throat, escaping his lips as nothing more than a cracked moan.

“Do you think about me, onii-chan?” 

Your question pulls him from the depths of his hedonism and he blinks, your face swimming into view, a peculiar mix of hope and cognizance infusing your expression, eyebrows raised with false curiosity, a smirk twitching on your lips.

Ah, there she is, that brat he knows so well, that brat he’s come to crave, every ounce of uncertainty eradicated from your face, replaced with assured confidence, contradicting the tears still staining your cheeks.

You fucking know he does. 

And, oh, how he wishes he was stronger, how he wishes he could lie, how he wishes he could devour the smugness in your eyes and complacency in your smile, to humble you, to knock you from your high throne.

He settles for a kiss instead, mouth crushed to yours as a large hand cups your head, thumb pressing into your ear, fingertips dragging across your scalp as he yanks you closer. 

It hurts, his front teeth scraping against your lip as he practically gnaws his way to your tongue, his own big and thick and so fucking strong as it overwhelms yours, shoving it further into the cavern of your mouth and forcing it to stay put as he explores. 

He’s making a real mess as he slathers over your molars, over the inside of your cheeks and the backs of your teeth, drenching your mouth in him. Drool oozes steadily from the corners, collecting along the underside of his bottom lip and leaving his chin sticky and slick. 

“Yes,” he whispers, eyes shut so tightly his whole forehead crinkles, mouth wet and sliding against your own. “Yes, yes, I think about you—much too often.”

Nose nudging yours, he nuzzles into your face a little, planting a chaste kiss to your lips, then peppering a few more, quick and sloppy, around your mouth.

“But right now, I don’t want to think about anything. I just want to feel you creaming all over my cock—you think you can do that for me, princess?” His palms cushion your cheeks, thumbs swiping across your cheekbones, then brushing strands of damp hair from your temples. “You think you can do that for your onii-chan?” 

Yes you can, of course you can, you’re nodding, blinking the last remnants of tears from your eyes, rapid movement eliminating the final stubborn drops, clinging delicately to your outer lashes. 

“S’it, baby,” he encourages as your hips start moving again, working up a steady rhythm. “Just like that, good girl.”

A mewl slips from your lips, burrowing your scalding face in his sticky neck again, his undivided attention almost too much to bear. 

“Like it when you call me a good girl,” you murmur, lips dragging across his skin with the confession, streaking him with thick glimmers of spit. 

“Is that so?” he laughs a little, pressing a few kisses to the crown of your head. “That’s because you don’t hear it often.” 

Lifting your head, you scowl at him, though there’s no heat to your glare, fury dimmed by fondness, unable to smother the smile playing with your lips.

A dazzling smile spreads across his own face in response, and he laughs again, his eyes so bright, so brilliant they almost hurt, blazing like two small suns, scorching your skin as his gaze glides over it.

He watches you like a man possessed, a man obsessed, entirely entranced by the way pleasure passes over your face, twisting your features into the cutest little winces as you grind the head of his cock against your cervix, then smoothing them out with bliss as his shaft drags along your favourite spot, bouncing in shallow little motions to rub over that fleshy patch hard and fast, a stream of mewls spilling from your lips, stitched together with his honorific. 

“You’re so pretty when you ride my cock,” he groans, words tapering off into a hoarse whimper, as if it pains him to admit it. 

His palms run up your sides, fingers counting over each rib, hands committing every dip and curve and bulge to memory, marvelled by the way you fill his grip, as if he can’t believe you’re real, you’re here, you’re his—even if just for tonight.

“Yeah, yeah, keep going, use onii-chan like a toy, sweetheart.” 

And he tries to be patient, he swears he does—tries not to rush you, tries to relish in the moment, in each swirl of your hips and every puff of his name—except your pace never accelerates, never moves past anything but teasing as you use his now aching cock to continually edge yourself; moans building higher and higher, louder and louder, on the cusp of the crest before they disintegrate into nothing and you start the process all over again, the delicate fluttering of your cunt enough to drive him fucking insane with desire.

It has his entire form trembling with such vigour it’s quivering the mattress, muscles locked stiff and tight as he tries to keep from moving, from bucking up wildly, from forcing you to speed the hell up. Rough fingers sink into your flesh so deep it dimples, a pathetic attempt to ground himself, rapidly blooming bruises staining your flesh.

But he’s powerless to stifle the whines leaking through the gaps of his gritted teeth, hands flexing on your hips, whole body pulled taut with restraint. 

He’s sure you can feel his cock twitching inside of you, eager and impatient, begging you to move faster, to fuck him harder. 

But you aren’t going to do any of that—not unless he asks for it, he realizes dimly, after you bring yourself to near orgasm for the third time in a row, giggling a little at his crestfallen expression, his hair having fallen almost completely from its trademark spiky buns, braided fishermen sweater soaked with sweat and sticking to his now heaving chest.

He really thought it was real this time. He really thought you were finally going to cream all over him, so he could finally flip you over and fuck you properly, pound you into the mattress and stuff that pretty, cute little cunt to the goddamn brim with his seed.

He’d been trying so hard to be nice, to be the loving, doting, good big brother he is—but he’s also only human, and there’s only so much misbehaviour he can bear before, finally, he snaps. 

Because, sure, big brothers are meant to care for, to lead and to nurture, but they’re also meant to teach, to punish, to put bratty little sisters back in their fucking place. 

“You think I don’t know what you’re doing? Huh?” his grip on your hips tightens, halting you from moving. “You think I’m fucking stupid?” 

“Never, Choso-nii,” you gasp, astonished. “I would never—” 

Sincerity rings in your voice, but he can see it, the mischief tugging at the corners of your mouth, barely suppressed by your façade of innocence.

Anyone else would’ve been fooled—enchanted by your doe eyes and your dainty voice. 

But not him.

No, he knows better now. 

“Bullshit,” he cuts you off, eyes narrowed sharply. “You wanted to ride my cock, but you’re clearly incapable of it—”

“No I’m not!”

“—So it looks like I’ll have to take matters into my own hands.”

“No! I—I can do it!” you cry, face crumpled in fury, nails scrabbling at his shoulders.

“You lost your chance to prove it to me,” he growls. 

The world flips suddenly, momentarily a blur of inks and ivories, a breath of surprise punched from your ribs as your back slams against the mattress, trapped between the bedspread and your big brother’s heaving chest.

“You have been testing me all fucking holiday,” he snarls, specks of spit splattering across your cheeks. “Onii-chan shouldn’t give you his cum—onii-chan shouldn’t have given you his cock at all!” 

A certain type of haughtiness corrodes your shock, lips spreading into a pompous smirk.

“Oh, but you just couldn’t help yourself, could you, onii-chan.” 

“You little bitch!” 

His hips shove forward, forcing you further into the plush of the mattress, cockhead ramming against your cervix. A little noise of pain vibrates on the back of your tongue, shattering your arrogance, and a grin smears across his face, glinting in the moonlight. 

“I think it’s time your big brother teach you a lesson in respect.”

“Y-Yeah? And how are you gonna do that?”

“You’re going to take what onii-chan gives you, and you’re going to fucking like it. And then, at the end, when you’ve gone stupid from the cock you don’t deserve, you’re going to thank me for giving it to you at all. Do you understand me?” 

Defiance shines in your eyes, lacquered by a thin coating of tears, nose scrunching up in a glower. 

A rough thumb and forefinger, hardened by charcoals, clamps around your jaw, squeezing your cheeks with such force that your mouth puckers, a sticky little whine squealing in your throat.

“Do you understand me?” he asks again, each word said slow with purpose, each word annunciated with intent, his eyes boring into yours, sharp and painful. 

Finally, those tears push past your bloated lashes, shoved from your eyes by rapid blinking and rolling down your cheeks in glistening pairs, a half-stifled hiccup stuttering your chest. 

“Y-Yes,” you whisper, nose twitching. 

“What was that? Onii-chan couldn’t hear you.” 

“Yes, onii-chan.” 

“Good girl.”

And then his hips are snapping, hard and fast and immediate, fucking into you with such ruthlessness that it jostles your body up the bed, sheets collecting in little wrinkled bunches beneath you. Your nails sink into his shoulders, piercing flesh through the knit of his sweater, the muscles in your thighs tensing as your ankles hook around his waist, his shirt riding up, your heels digging into the those cute little dimples that cushion the base of his spine. 

It hurts, every pound of his cock producing a dull, throbbing ache low and deep in your gut, another torrent of tears rushing to flood your vision.

“Ch-Choso-nii, Ch-Choso-nii,” you whimper, face screwed up in pain, his name stuttered by his rapid thrusts.

“What’s the matter?” he pouts, and it’s so condescending, dripping from his lips in an over-exaggerated coo. “Can’t take onii-chan’s cock?”

The question wafts across your face in a panted breath and you lick at your lips, sopping it up with your tongue.

“N-No,” you say, and that telltale brattiness is back, watered down by his viciousness. “I can do it—I-I can do it for you, onii-chan.” 

A throaty curse escapes his lips, thrusts stammering out of rhythm for a moment as his cock twitches, and a helpless giggle bubbles up in your throat.

Even angry, he’s still so fucking easy. 

He regains his composure quickly, though, face hardened to stone but beginning to splinter with pleasure. 

“Brat,” he breathes out, though there’s mirth shining in his eyes, pure and fond and full of love. “You better.”

And even angry, he still sounds so fucking pretty; cracked moans and dense groans and choked gasps, all flowing from his mouth in a single stream, fractured by the piston of his hips.

The pain doesn’t fade, of course—it barely diminishes at all, the sheer massiveness of his cock making it near impossible to be dispelled, keeping the cramping pang in the pit of your belly steady and constant—but it does amplify the pleasure, nerves gnawed raw by the agony, left hypersensitive to the sparks of ecstasy that blaze through your veins with every quick, rough pump of his hips, every deep, hard slam against your bruised cervix, every rapid drag over that engorged spot.

It leaves you feeling high, leaves you feeling stupid, brain melting in a hot haze of lust and rendering you incapable of forming a single coherent thought beyond how incredible his cock is, his name and his title the only two things your sloppy, numb tongue can fully scrape together.

It’s all so much, too much, but it all feels so fucking good—s’good, Choso-nii, y’r so-so good—sentiment vibrating indistinctly in your chest.

“Yeah, sweetheart?” he asks, words gone wispy, fading into a whine. “Does your onii-chan’s cock make you feel good?”

Yes, yes, yes, onii-chan, it’s so good, you’re so good! 

Your head nods frantically, fingers curling in the collar of his sweater, a mess of affirmatives fucked from your mouth. 

“Y’know, you’re kinda cute when you’re too cockdrunk to misbehave,” he chuckles a little, biting back a moan as your cunt clenches at the compliment. “May-Maybe onii-chan should fuck you stupid more often, huh?” 

Oh, God, yes, onii-chan; oh, please, onii-chan! 

“Yeah, you’d like that a bit too much, though, wouldn’t you, you little sl—ah—slut.”

Drool dribbles from the sides of your mouth as you continue nodding, eyes wide and unblinking, encrusted with stars. 

“Y’so pretty, onii-chan,” you manage to mumble out, sentiment tangled in threads of spit, fingers flexing in the fabric of his sweater, as if they yearn to touch but can’t find the strength to carry out the action.

And he is, so beautiful it’s borderline sickening, strands of onyx plastered to his cheeks, his jaw, his neck, strung together in clumps and saturated in sweat; damp skin glittering in the waning moonlight spilling through the slits of his window, dewdrops catching delicately in the beams as he pounds into you, every drive of his cock accelerating his pace.

“W-Wan’your cum now,” you slur the demand through a lax pout, lids beginning to weight with exhaustion, heavy as they frame dopey eyes.

“Yeah?” he laughs a little, gaze shining with adoration, and it’s breathless, it’s beautiful, his affection wafting over your scalding face. “Onii-chan needs you to cream all over his cock first. Can you—” a grunt cuts him off, and he whimpers, pushing through his sentence, his voice strained. “Can y’do that for me, angel?” 

“Uh-huh, uh—uh-huh,” your head begins nodding more fervently again, pushing your lids open with some effort to stare up at him, pupils swelling with devotion and determination.

“Then show me—Show me how gorgeous my good girl looks when she’s making a mess all over her big brother’s cock.” 

Three more thrusts and your cunt is obeying, convulsing on his thick shaft as heat gushes around him, so much that you can hear it—a sick, slick squelching as he jackhammers into you, your essence coating his thighs in a shiny layer of arousal. 

“Oh, fuck,” his eyes shut tightly before springing open again, suddenly rabid, ravenous. 

The bed creaks as his hips speed up, skin sticky with arousal as it slaps against your own, the sharp sound mingling with his ragged pants and your hitched mewls.

“Onii—Nii-chan,” you nearly wail, fingers tangling weakly in the hair at the nape of his neck, nails scraping against his flesh. “Please, please, cum, gimme—gimme y’r cum!” 

“Greedy little thing,” he rasps out, voice cracking into a whine. 

But you don’t care, you can’t care, pleads spilling from your lips as your thighs tense around his waist, hips twitching in erratic little motions, crudely trying to fuck yourself on him.  

“Need it, need it, onii-chan, fill my belly with it, onii-chan, please!” 

“Christ,” he chokes on the curse, pace faltering as he finally gives his baby sister what she wants, cock throbbing almost violently while it fills you with hot, thick cum, so much you swear you really can feel it, stuffing your belly as full as it can be, tummy bulging cutely with his seed.

You must tell him that, sentiment slipping from your lips without your permission, because he moans again, his cock giving another weak spurt, hips stuttering as he tries to fuck further into you, grinding the head into your sore cervix. 

“Yeah, yeah,” you’re murmuring, hips rolling up to meet his own. “Push it into me, onii-chan, push it into my cunt nice n deep, do-don’t waste a single drop!” 

“You really are gonna be the death of me,” he whines, face buried in your hair as he collapses on top of you, hips still moving in lazy little circles, shudders of overstimulation rippling through his form. 

“Mm,” you hum, on the cusp of unconsciousness, nuzzling your face into his neck like a kitten, then lapping at a few droplets of sweat streaming down the column. “What are lil sisters for?” 

[iambilliejeanok]

More Baki hanma smut plzzzzz🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏

Of course babes!🩷

Baki x reader

Warnings: 18+, NSFW , SMUT OKAY, this one’s gonna be a little intense, read at your own risk🩷🙏🏾it’s also kinda long as hell…👉🏾👈🏾sorryy 🫶🏾

Summary: you’ve been feeling a little bit neglected and deprived during Baki’s tournament. He’s been having to dedicate most of his time to preparing for each match and now Baki has to figure out how to handle his horny, bratty, unstable little girl. 😊 Enjoy🩷

Baki has become a bit of an addiction now, and he knows what hold he has over you. He’s not surprised when you deliberately ignore him in between other matches, opting to watch other men fight instead of spending time with him, pampering him with kisses and hugs, water and food like you normally do, he doesn’t know how to handle his feelings.

Initially, he figured you were just moody, considering that this was the first time you were behaving this way, giving you space to figure yourself out and to keep his head focused on the tournament. He had just finished a mini workout, when he decided to go for a drink of water to cool himself down. Where is y/n when I need her? He thought to himself, “Wait, where is she?”, he said out loud, abandoning his mission to drink water to find you, exiting his gym and walking down the hallway to look for you. He even went to the extent of searching through each of the contestant’s rooms, prepared to fight anyone who’d have a problem with it, but even then, he still couldn’t find you. He now grew anxious, and was maybe even a little pissed off. Why was he having to search high and low for you, you’re supposed to be by his side at all times. He could feel his body growing a little warmer the longer he thought about it. Lost in thought, he walked passed the bathrooms, stopping in his tracks when he saw the ladies sign. He thought he should stop and ask another lady to go in there and look for you, but there just weren’t any women around and he did not have the patience to wait, taking it upon himself to go inside.

It smelled really nice in here, unlike the men’s bathroom, that usually wrecked of blood, sweat and balls. Most of the stalls were empty, the door on the furthest end shut closed. Approaching the door, he placed his hand on it, gently pushing it open, the feint smell of your sex catching him way off guard, Baki quickly pushing the door further open. He was shocked to find you standing there, one foot placed on the toilet seat while your hand massaged your boob, the other between your legs. The sound of the door hitting the wall making you jump, and you couldn’t believe your eyes. Baki stood outside your stall, in nothing but those red shorts of his. “What are you doing in here!”, you yelled in surprise, quickly lifting up your panties in complete embarrassment.

“What are you doing in here?”, Baki asked, still standing in the doorway and watching you fix yourself, trying to avoid smirking at your embarrassment. “Oh my gosh Baki, what does it look like to you? Move please”, you responded, trying to shove him out the way to exit the stall, but of course Baki stood in place like a brick wall. Grabbing your arm, he gently pressed you against the wall to his right, trapping you between his arms, his eyebrows furrowed in anger. He’s upset!? You noticed, growing a little annoyed at your own concern for him. He’s been neglecting me all this time, why should I care? Crossing your arms as you looked elsewhere, avoiding his burning gaze. “Hey, what’s your problem?” Baki asked, growing even more upset about your attitude. “Baki move”, you said, trying to remain composed, as the irritation inside of you quickly built up. “No. I asked you a question, answer me”. You finally looked up at him, unable to resist stomping your foot on the ground as you now raised your voice, “Baki!”. “You’re not going anywhere until you answer me”, he said. You could feel him getting angrier, avoiding eye contact to remain resilient. “Move!”, you yelled, resorting to pushing him away from you, your hands shoving his chest back, but your attempts meant nothing, Baki is strong after all. Whining in frustration, you didn’t give up, trying your best to push him out the way. “Why do you have to be like this you’re so fucking big and stubborn!”, “Tch”, he grumbled, grabbing your arm before slightly crouching, his hand gripping your thigh and in the blink of an eye Baki had slung you over his shoulder, making his way towards the exit of the bathroom.

After a few minutes of kicking and yelling down the hallway, without a care in the world as to who was watching, you finally made it back to Baki’s room, confused when you heard the door lock behind you. Setting you down on the sofa beside the foot of the bed, you could sense that he was a little pissed off. Did something happen? You wondered, crossing your arms and legs as you looked in the other direction, refusing to pay him any mind. “Haha”, Baki laughed, catching your attention. “Hahahaha!”, he began laughing. Lifting your eyebrow in concern you simply observed him, watching him laugh for a minute before he caged you against the cold leather couch. “What do you think you’re doing?”, he asked, gently nudging your chin to look up at him as he leaned in close, a smile pulling at his lips as you continued to frown at him, refusing to speak while you held eye contact. Taking you by surprise, Baki closed the distance, the familiar feel of his soft lips pressing against yours making your heart flutter. He didn’t stop when you softly moaned in resistance, softly sucking on your lower lip, gently tugging it with his teeth before sucking it again. Unconsciously, you unfolded your arms, placing your hands on his bare chest while his reached for the back of your head, his fingers weaving between your braids as he held you place. When was the last time he actually kissed you, the two of you lost in the kiss before you felt his tongue tracing your upper lip. Snapping out of it, your eyes shot open, your hands pushing him away trying to break the kiss, accidentally nipping Baki on his upper lip. Grunting he slightly backed up, the expression on his face growing angrier, his penetrating gaze making you swallow as you tried to hold on to your confidence.

“Babygirl, do i need to fuck you?”, he asked, his eye contact unwavering, his face dead serious. Your heart skipped a beat and you could feel that same beat right between your legs, trying to remain calm under his intensity. You’d never admit it because it would hurt your pride too, but deep down inside, all you wanted, maybe even needed, was a good fucking. And even though you were a bit scared of what he’d do to you the, thought of Baki stroking you to tears, the smell of his sweat dripping on you, the feeling of being stuffed and close to him motivated your next words; “No Baki”, you whispered, leaning in even closer, “I need you to fuck off”. And with that Baki lost it, grabbing your thigh with one hand before yanking you forward, forcing you on your back, the cold leather of the couch pleasant against your exposed back and neck as Baki quickly rid you of your undies, pausing for a moment as though he was in thought, before ripping your shirt right down the middle. You couldn’t help but smirk, your plan in motion while Baki proceeded to remove the rest of your clothing.

Now you lay completely naked on the couch, Baki slowly crawling up your body, his eyes taking in the lovely sight of your breasts, goosebumps decorating your dark brown areolae from the coolness of the couch. “I go twelve days without fucking you and you turn into a little brat”, he finally spoke, his voice deep, smooth, your pussy aching so bad, you wondered if you’d be able to go another second without him attending to it. Reaching your hand out to grab his chin and force him to look at you, Baki raised an eyebrow in confusion, “Well a little attention from my boyfriend could’ve prevented that”, you replied.

Baki grabbed your wrist, the other following right after, pinning them both above your head in one hand. He brought his free hand to your face, admiring your pretty face as he caressed your cheek, your skin warm against his fingers before they reached your lips. “I don’t wanna play around with you during the tournament”, he said, tracing his thumb along your lower lip, eyes focused on yours. “Why?’, you quickly asked, furrowing your eyebrows in concern, hoping he wouldn’t change his mind while you ached this much for him. “Because, i get so high on adrenaline, I wouldn’t wanna hurt you”. “What makes you think I couldn’t handle it?”, you quickly spoke, Baki chuckling at your hasty response. “Are you too fucking horny to think straight babe? “ he asked, “Yes. I really want you inside of me…please”, you replied, squirming beneath him as you ached even more, unintentionally grinding against his thigh. Baki bit his lip, not only could he smell you, but he could feel how wet you were too, those dark brown eyes never leaving yours as he slowly shoved his index and middle finger into your mouth. “Suck”, he instructed, swallowing at the feel of your warm mouth wrapping around his fingers, your tongue weaving in between them as you sucked, never taking your eyes off of his. He loved how obedient you could be underneath him. “What’s wrong baby?”, he asked as you whimpered, closing your eyes for just a few seconds, Baki removing his fingers from your mouth. “It’s starting to really hurt…please Baki, please i nee— ahhhhh!”, you moaned. Baki’s fingers pressing circles on your clit. You opened your eyes, taken by surprise at the sudden relief. “No fussing?”, he asked, planting kisses down your neck. “No”, you said, your voice soft as you moaned in bliss. “No whining”, he continued, planting kisses on your chest, licking his lips at the sight of your nipples, perky and hard, swallowing the saliva running down the inside of his cheeks. “No whining”, you repeated, gasping at the feel of him tugging on your nipple with just his teeth, his fingers still rubbing your clit in circles, your breathe catching as you reached your climax.

Not long into your orgasm, Baki’s fingers still rubbed your clit in those delicious slow circles, your heels now digging into the waxy leather of the couch as you embraced yourself for another blissful orgasm, Baki circling your nipple with his tongue, before tugging on it with his teeth again. “Baki”, you moaned aloud, his teeth tugging on your nipple slightly painful, but the orgasm his fingers on your clit brought you to distracted you enough to handle it. Letting your nipple slip through his teeth made you wince in pain, but he shoved the same two fingers inside your achy, moist walls right after, the sudden penetration from not having him for almost two weeks forcing you to scream. “Uuhhh, fuck! Baki!”. His fingers did not pause for even a second as he buried them a little deeper inside of you, grabbing your sensitive nipple with his teeth once again. The sudden aggression leaving you heavily panting as you tried to handle the sharp pain, wondering why he was being so rough with you. You really were a little tighter than Baki expected, but he noticed how easily you loosened up as he moved his fingers inside of you, keeping them curled as he began massaging your gspot, enjoying the sounds of you struggling to take this all at once. Letting your nipple slip through his teeth again you couldn’t help but whimper, the pain nearly unbearable. “Good girl baby”, he praised, your back arching off the couch as he slowly fingered you, keeping to the same pace, dragging the tips of his fingers against the same spot, over and over again, driving them in deep just to mess with you, mesmerized by the way your plump lips parted to let out a desperate moan before biting your lower lip when he reverted to curling his fingers to massage that spot again. “fuck! uhhhh yeeesss!”, you cried out, your hips and legs jerking as you came. “Mmmm, there you go baby”, Baki whispered in your ear, planting kisses all over your face. “Again okay babe?”, he said, continuing to massage your gspot, driving you to the brink of insanity for just a little moment, enjoying the sounds of your cursing, pleading and desperate cries over trying to take how incredibly amazing he made you feel. He couldn’t help but indulge in your other nipple, circling your nipple with his tongue, flicking and sucking before tugging on it with his teeth, and for a second your brain turned to mush, completely dominated by the orgasm Baki brought you. You couldnt stop the urge to kick, your hips and legs jerking, finally squirting hard, your fluids making a mess on his arm and the leather couch.

You couldn’t control anything, your arms restricted above you as you basically screamed, panting hard in between loud moans, your lungs desperately trying to catch a breath, but you were under the mercy of your boyfriend, your eyes rolling to the back of your head as he continued to finger you, still sucking your swelling nipple. “fuuuhh, bakiiii oh my g-goooshhh”, you cried, your voice cracking in between moans, Baki quickly removing his fingers, massaging your clit in circles again. You couldn’t stop yourself from squirting, and you couldnt care less about the mess you were making, your brain turning into mush once again, completely zoning for the second time. Baki finally gave you a break, but you were still possessed by your orgasm. Lifting his fingers to his mouth, the slightly nutty and sweet smell of your fluids soaking his fingers made his mouth water, swallowing his saliva before inserting his fingers into his mouth, getting a taste of his sweet little girlfriend. He missed you. Wondering how on earth he was able to go nearly two weeks without tasting you, relishing in the sweet fluid running down his throat. Licking his fingers clean, he finally snapped out the trans he was in, sitting up on his knee. He couldn’t help but smile at the mess you were on the couch, tugging on his shorts, pulling them just down below his ass, his briefs following next, freeing his raging hard dick.

He wasn’t going to wait for you to calm down, lifting up your thigh to spread you wide open, the sight of your dripping pussy making his dick twitch. He felt like he’d die if he didn’t bury himself inside of you any sooner, rubbing the mushroom tip of his dick along your folds, getting the head nice and lubricated, his own precum in the mix before pressing it against your entrance, the snug fit around it forcing him to take a breath. He pushed himself inside of you a little more, the two of you moaning loud when he was able to sheath most of his length inside of you at once. “Fuck!”, Baki grunted, and you broke out into a fit of moans, having completely forgotten just how much he could fill you up. “Baby”, Baki called, pressing his lips against yours before you could respond. He was such an amazing kisser, and this time around, you shoved your tongue into his mouth, desperate to taste him, your arms now free, wrapping around his burly torso, enjoying the feel of his back under the palms of your hands. He let you in, wrestling your tongue with his own, sucking on it when he had the chance, and for the next minute or two, that’s all you did, Baki softly moaning, wrapping his arms around you too, hugging you close against him, enjoying the pleasant warmth of his body against yours. Finally breaking the kiss to look at you, the two of you panted in each others face, you much louder than him, feeling so stuffed you couldn’t handle it, but you promised you’d take all of him, resting your head back down on the couch, already feeling tired after such an ecstatic orgasm.

“I didn’t mean to make you feel neglected. I was just…well… I-” he tried to speak, struggling to put his emotions into words, especially when you looked at him like that, the tips of your fingers tracing feather light circles on his back as you gazed at him, giving him time to speak. Your dark brown eyes twinkled, Baki losing himself in them for a moment, swallowing before attempting to speak again. “I shouldn’t…well, I was wrong for not spending much time with you baby, I love you so much, I’m such an idiot”, he admitted, a feint tint on red decorated his cheeks as he rested his forehead against yours. “Yeah, a big strong idiot”, you whispered, making him softly chuckle, and you couldn’t help but moan, your pussy clenching him, begging him for some action. His big hands found your thighs once again, spreading you so wide, forcing another moan out of you. He smiled, you’re still horny as hell he noted. “But I’m still slightly annoyed…so I’m still gonna fuck you…”, he said, slowly pulling out of you. You realized that you had nothing to grip on, placing your hand on his forearm to prepare yourself. You could’ve burst his eardrum with how loud you screamed, Baki shoving himself back inside of you in one hard stroke. “…really hard”, he finished, speaking above your trailing whimpers, pulling out before ramming himself right into you again. “Baki!!!”, you cried out, your nails digging into forearm already. But he was honest when he said he was still a little annoyed, picking up the pace as he continued to thrust into you, each stoke so forceful, your legs shaking in his hands only after a couple of strokes.

Baki almost felt sorry for you, your pussy creaming around him as he continued to fuck you, watching you scream and cry, clawing at his tummy and arm as you tried to take him, he wasn’t surprised to feel you start clenching around him much tighter, determined to wreck you. He held you down easily, despite how much you shook, your eyes rolling to the back of your head again, feeling yourself zoning out, your brain giving in to the intensity of the pleasure your pussy sent it. Pulling out of you wasn’t an option, “Fuck!”, Baki cursed when your vagina forced him out, a streak of fluid gushing onto him. You came so hard you swear you could see stars, even with your eyes shut tight. Violently shuddering underneath Baki’s hold. And as merciless as he was in the arena, he still spread you wide open, burying his head in between your legs, drinking his fill of your juices, greedily latching onto your clit to start softly sucking the swollen bean. Your hands immediately found his head, grabbing a fistful of his brown hair, you tried to push him away, but to no avail, your body being forced into a longer, more intense orgasm. The amount of times you cried out your boyfriends name, begged him to stop and pulled at his hair, yet he didn’t budge, and you could feel yourself blacking out, every action from that point forth totally involuntary.

Your clit left his mouth with a pop, Baki immediately wrapping his arms around you, holding you tight. Lifting you up, you still violently convulsed in his arms, Baki carrying you to the bed just behind the couch. Managing to carry you in one arm as he lifted the duvet, crawling under the covers with you. He only planned to spend the rest of the day with you, the coolness of the sheets so refreshing as he snuggled you under them, patiently waiting for you to relax. He was planning on ever leaving you unattended for too long ever again, but one thing for certain was that he was not done fucking you.

[igotanidea]

Laugh: Jason Todd x fem!reader

requested by @thefandomdiaries07 - I AM SO SORRY!!

“Oh my god!” Y/N started laughing at another Bad dad joke Dick Just Said. Honestly, she wasn’t sure whether it made her giggle like a silly teenager because it was so stupid or because Dick was ginning and being so full of himself. 

“That’s a good one right?”

“No....!” she gasped wiping the tears away, smudging her mascara in the process. “It was terrible. Terrible, Grayson! I swear every time I believe you reached the bottom of the groaner well, you surprise me with another one!”

“Now that’s hurtful!” Dick grabbed his heart, pretending to be deeply cut by those words. “Your words are like knife to my soul!”

“Please stop watching soap operas….” She laughed even more at his choice of words.

“Hm.” Dick smirked. The position he was in allowed him to see behind Y/N’s shoulder and notice something she could not.

Once her laugh reverberated through the room in the Manor, Jason, who was just casually passing by, with his signature face expression being the mix of broody and smug, stopped in his tracks. To give it justice, he looked like he was just struck by the lighting by the sound. Rooted to the ground. Frozen. Transfixed. Taken into another dimension. Whatever words might come to person’s brain – he was just that. With his eyes almost turning into hearts he looked like a love sick puppy. Just because he heard her chuckling at something.

“Hey Jaybrid!” Dick called to his younger brother, unable to stop himself from a little bit of teasing. Todd might have been lying about how he felt for Y/N, denying the obvious, but his actions were pretty self-explanatory. Especially in the family of self-appointed detectives, trained to read into every detail and gesture. “You look surprisingly non-threatening.”

“Shut up Dickhead.” His face expression turned back to resentful, the slightest blush showing on his cheeks due to being called out like this. He was a grown ass man acting like a boy who saw a girl’s bra for the first time.

“What’s with the attitude, little bird? Someone step on your toe?”

“Shut up!”

“Oh come on, cheer up! How about I give you a joke to relieve the tension?”

“Oh, no!” Y/N cried out in despair, turning to face Jason “Jace! Save me! Dick won’t let me go until I die from the embarrassment from his jokes! Please, don’t let me suffer alone!”

Once she looked at him with those pretty, pretty, shining, smiling e/c eyes he was gone. Like gone. How could he possibly tell no to her? How could he…..

“Not in the mood…” he muttered, looking down, terrified to death to meet her gaze.

“Come on Jay! Pretty please? We’re friends. It’s kind of I’m in shit you’re in shit situation. You can’t run from it.”

“I hate you.” He hissed crossing his arms

“I give you a chance to realize that you hate Dick’s sense of humor more than you hate me. So? what’s it gonna be?”

Yeah, he couldn’t tell her no.

***

“Did you get home safe?” Dick texted a few hours later, once Y/N left the manor and got into her apartment.

“You could have given me a ride with that fancy porche of yours, so you wouldn’t have to ask after.”

“I was kind of hoping Jason will pick you on a bike and give you a romantic trip, but seemingly we can’t always have what we want.”

“Jason?” if they were talking not texting she would raise an eyebrow at the moment

“Sure? My younger brother? Do you remember Jason?”

“Fuck you Dick. Stop playing around. We’re friends. That’s all.”

“Y/N for crying out loud. I saw that boy almost snap his neck because he heard your laugh and wanted to see why you were laughing.”

What?!

“but yes, keep telling yourself you’re friends.”

What the hell?!

She lost her patience in an instant and dialed Dick’s number.

“Y/N.”

“What the hell was that Dick?!”

“I believe it’s something you call telling the truth”

“I believe it’s acting like a freaking gossip girl!”

“It’s not a gossip!

“stop playing with me!”

“Am not! Did I ever lie to you?” he trailed and for a moment there was silence in the phone as they both were thinking about the years of keeping a little secret of his vigilante persona. “It’s true. I swear. “

“so why tell me now?”

“Cause I am seriously scared of what injuries Jay maysustain if someone doesn’t speak up. Last week Steph did as much as mentioned your name and he fall off the stairs.”

“You’ll never let him live it down, will you?”

“Not a chance!” Dick laughed “but hey, we both know you have a crush on him too so…”

“This reverse psychology is not going to work on  me Grayson. No circus for tricks.”

“Please don’t tell me you tease him absolutely absentmindedly…..”

“Tease? Dick this is just who I am. I play and twist words with everyone. I do that all the time with you.”

“can you at least talk to him about it?”

“wouldn’t that make it a bit awkward?”

“sure. And I’ll be right by the corner with the camera to video it.”

“I swear to god you’re the definition of an older brother.”

***

For three days Y/N was trying her best to avoid the conversation. No matter what Dick said, Jason was her friend and taking their relationship to another level was…. Hard. Honestly, Y/N wasn’t even sure how she herself felt about it. Did she like Jason as more than friend?

Yes,

no,

maybe?

How do you even recognize the moment when you stop thinking of someone as a buddy and move to I want to be more stage?

Sure, there’s physical attraction but that is not necessarily the sign of deeper feelings.

Just cause you feel you want to kiss someone doesn’t mean you love him.

So how did she feel?

She was postponing even thinking about it, but there’s no escaping when you serve as an emotional support and voice of reason for the whole family of vigilante seeing them *him* on a day to day basis.

So yes, Y/N was pretty much conflicted and feeling like a silly teenager, even though her metrics was showing quite a different age number.

And she was sad.

And that was something Jason could not stand.

“did you switch the position of your bed lately ?” he asked her after a few days of her being shy, withdrawn and silent. Obviously he did it in-character with the teasing tone and that freaking edgelord attitude.

“What?” she raised her gaze from the bat computer, frowning in confusion “there’s still no place for you to crush at my place one way or another.”

“Oh, please…” he rolled his eyes, plumping onto the seat next to her “as if that was what I meant.”

“What did you mean then?”

“You seemed like you’ve been getting off on the wrong foot, hence the question. I thought you were smarter than that and will get the reference.”

“Haha… very funny Todd.”

“I’m serious though.”

“You are never serious.”

“I miss your laugh…..” he babbled without thinking and his eyes grew wide at the words. “oh, fuck…I mean… you have terrible laugh. Terrible. And I miss laughing at your laugh. That’s what I meant to say.”

“I swear you’re the only person I know who can both offend and complement someone in one sentence.” She scoffed, turning back to computer away from him 

“Yeah, kind of my signature.”

“You’re a terrible person Jason Todd and I hate you. God I swear you’re so annoying. I can’t believe Dick was thinking you likelike me….” She babbled and this time it was her turn to blush because of saying too much. “oh, shit….I mean… Dick is delusional obviously and I’m pretty sure he was drunk while using the word.”

“Grayson told you I liked you?” Jason smirked.

“Yeah…. Funny, right?” she chuckles awkwardly

“Extremely funny.” Jason looked down avoiding meeting her eyes.

“Haha ….” She muttered.

And then, once they mocked Dick and the whole situation to the most possible extend and there was nothing more to say the silence fell between them. At first it was normal since they were both lost in their heads but after a while it started getting uncomfortable. Even the air in the batcave became heavier and it was becoming hard to breathe.

“Y/N…..” he looked at her

“Jace…..” she looked at him

And when their gazes met they were gone.

Acting on impulse they both moved forward, meeting halfway when their lips connected.

It was not like they write it in the books or how you see it in the movies or not even how you imagine kissing someone you like.

It was their first kiss together and yet, there were no sparks, no electricity, no butterflies in the stomach.

No.

Nothing so obvious and, well, spectacular.

And yet, there was something more to this display of affection.

The deep sense of doing something right.

Something pure and perfect.

Feeling of finally belonging somewhere.

With someone.

The inner peace.

It was….natural, but it didn’t take away the wonderfulness of being in the bubble together with that person.

Getting out all those emotions they were trying to hide.

And at this moment Y/N knew she was fooling herself. She did like him more than friends.

“Y/N…..?” he pulled back after a second, both pair of eyes closed, foreheads connected.

“Hmmmm?”

“I like you.”

“Yeah, I kind of notice……”

“Y/N……?”

“Yes, I like you too.”

“So what do I have to do to make you laugh again?”

She pulls back, opening her eyes and smirking teasingly.

“You can just be yourself. I swear sooner or later you will do something silly or stupid enough to make me laugh. At you…..”

“I think you and I have very different definitions of liking someone.”

“Maybe….but if there’s anyone I want to work towards creating joint meaning…. It’s you , Todd.”

“Oh….” He cooed “don’t give me diabetes with all that sweetness.”

“enjoy it while it last, Todd…..” she laughs and hearing that sound after a few weeks of silence he couldn’t help but grin widely.

Like a man in love.

Who he was.  

[myfeetrcolddd]

A date? (PART TWO!!)

Theo kept to his word. After leaving the cafe he took her hand in his once more, intertwining their fingers together. He walked so close to her that their shoulders kept brushing.

"D'you want to go to the bookstore?" Y/N asked innocently, batting her pretty little eyelashes at him in a way she knew always worked on him.

He pursed his lips and acted as though he was annoyed by the prospect of going there, even though he had planned to go there. After all that was the one store she had gone to consistently every time she was at Hogsmeade. "I suppose so." He rolled his eyes with a grin and she shoved him lightly.

Theo tossed their empty cups into a trash can before he held the door open for her and let her in.

Theo watched her face as it morphed into this giddy childlike expression and found himself smiling at it. A thought came to mind, a muggle phrase he had heard once, 'Happy wife, happy life' and he knew they weren't married (yet), but he couldn't help but feel as though that phrase was nothing but the truth.

He followed her around the store, listening intently as she rambled on about each book and the plotlines. He held the books she handed to him and kept track of those she lingered on but didn't pick up.

Theo was not known for his patience, or his ability to stay quite for such a long time without putting in his two cents. This was not the case with Y/N, because when he was with her he found his loud and over busy mind was calm and quite. He liked that nearly as much as he liked the girl herself.

"Are you sure this isn't too much?" She asked, as she stared at the stack of books she hadn't realized had gotten so high. Truth was that she always felt bad about spending Theos money, she never wanted him to think she was only friends with him for his money.

"If you asked I'd buy you the whole store." He said casually as he paid for the books.

She was glad he had his back to her, because if he didn't then he'd see how flustered that 'casual' comment made her. Though she imagined it wouldn't matter, nearly everything Theo said to her made her blush to some extent.

Before she could grab the bag of books herself Theodore did, he then grabbed her hand and without thinking kissed the back of it. Y/N felt as though she looked as red as a tomato right then.

He mumbled something in another language, Italian. Though she could barely hear it and even if she could hear it it's not as if she would have been able to understand.

She'd have to ask him about it later.

Soon the two found themselves walking into The Three Broomsticks. "I'll go get us a seat, you order." Y/N says, leaving no room for argument before she took the heavy bag of books out of Theos hands and going to find a booth.

Thankfully there was a empty booth towards the back, away from any prying eyes. Not that she wanted to keep this day a secret, but she had her what ifs about this day she was nearly certain was a date. What ifs that included Theo denying the day ever happened.

As she waited for the Slytherin boy to return Y/N found herself getting nervous. Pulling her out of her thoughts someone cleared their throat above her.

She turned and found one of the boys she had 'hung out' with in fifth year. It was awkward when I realized it was a date, but we kept talking and I thought I might've been able to like him. But then he ghosted me.

"Oh- Ben! Hi." She said glancing behind him to see Theodore still waiting for their drinks.

"Hey." He smirked, "Long time no see."

"Uh- yeah." She glanced back over at Theo who still had yet to notice what was happening, "What are you doing here?"

"I just saw you over and thought I'd come to say hi." He shrugged and she grew a little irritated, because this guy hadn't come to say 'hi' to her in the past two years.

"Oh well. You've said it." She said, not so subtly.

"Yes I have." He looked her up and down and it was then that she was thankful for having learned social ques, had she been in this interaction a few years ago she would think he really was telling the truth. "Listen, I think we should hang out sometime-"

"Sorry, her schedules full." Theo says from behind Ben and we both turn to him.

"Well I'm sure she can make some room-"

"Nope." Theo says, shoving past the short boy and sliding into the seat next to Y/N. He places their drinks down on the table before wrapping an arm around her, "Is that all? Or is there more we can help you with?"

"Look-"

"I really think you should leave Benjamín." Theo glares, not bothering to hide his aggravated mood.

Ben scoffs before stomping away.

Even with Ben gone Theo kept his arm around her, if she didn't know any better she'd say he actually held her tighter. Despite the mood Ben seemed to put Theo in Y/N couldn't help but be amused and let out a giggle.

His head snapped to hers, their faces closer than they've ever been, "Do you find this amusing?" He raised an unamused brow at her.

"No." She grinned, then leant forward picking up her butterbeer and taking a sip.

"Mhm." He hummed unconvinced and she kept grinning and Theo dropped the moody act, smiling and shaking his head at the pretty girl and drank his own butterbeer.

They slipped into a comfortably silence and Y/N figured now would be a good time to ask him. "So..." She started, keeping her eyes on the foam floating around her drink.

"So." Theo copied, his eyes on the side of her head.

"Are we on a date right now?" She ripped the band-aid off, turning to him and he froze. His eyes widening and his cheeks flushing slightly.

He then grinned, a wide ear to ear grin, flashing me with the deepest dimples I have ever seen. "I was wondering when you'd piece it together."

"I-what?" She spluttered and looked at him confused. She wasn't sure what she had expected his answer to be but it surely wasn't this.

"You heard me." He whispered, leaning in closer. His eyes darted from her lips to her eyes.

Y/N cleared her throat loudly and turned to face her drink once more, Theo laughed and brushed a stay piece of hair behind her ear. "I like you, Y/N." He said in a low voice that made her feel all kinds of things. "Actually, I like you a lot."

She swallowed her dry spit at his words as her face heated so much she might as well be the fucking sun. "I've liked you for a while now, a few years give or take. Personally, I thought I was kind of obvious with it." He spoke into her ear and she huffed.

Turning her head towards him once more their faces were so close their noses rubbed each other. Theo opened his mouth to say something else but she cut him off. "Theo, are you going to kiss me or not?"

He grinned before he grabbed her face and their lips met in a passionate kiss.

[trash-druid]

The Slow Poison | A Viago and Crow!Rook Prequel

Context: Takes place a few months before Rook's Antaam debacle, soon after she became a full Crow. Characters: My Rook De Riva, Violetta (or Vi), Viago, Teia, and Illario. A/N: A short moment within the head canon backstory for my Crow!Rook about her relationship with Viago.

Viago always had trouble sleeping. There were often too many things that needed doing and not enough time to do them. Pacing the De Riva villa late into the night was customary for him. It also gave him the opportunity to inspect his security, check stores, and make sure Violetta, his protege, was in bed like she was instructed to be.

The first time he found her sneaking back through her window, he had her scrub every floor in the villa. Twice.

The second time, he had her on dish duty for the Cantori Diamond for two weeks, leaving her hands chapped. The day after her final day of punishment, Viago arrived at training, a small jar in his hands. “This balm will help your skin. I can’t have you embarrassing our house because your hands are too dry to hold a blade.”

He made his way past the bedrooms on the second floor, all empty but one. Viago had taken fledglings under his wing before, but never like this. Whenever he thought of sending Violetta to the general dorm, he remembered the child with watery eyes staring up at him from inside a slaver’s cage, two elf corpses decaying at her feet. Were these her parents or strangers that she had to watch die from starvation? How long had she been stuck there, face to face with death?

The night of the slavers raid, Viago did something he had never done before. He took the child, frail and silent, back to his villa with Teia and tucked her into one of the spare bedrooms. He then looked at her, with a warmth in his voice that he would never admit to. “You can be a De Riva, if you want. This can be your home. But you’ll have to earn your keep. You’ll have to learn how to be a Crow, and what that means. I do not accept failure. It will not be easy,” he paused, “Do you understand? Is this what you want?”

The child nodded as she drifted off to sleep. Teia, peeking around the doorway, would often remind Viago of this moment whenever he spouted empty threats of kicking her out. He gave the child a name befitting her nature; Violetta. As lovely as a flower but as violent as a fireball. The child grew from a silent little wisp with no memory of the horrors from her past into a smart-mouthed fledgling with a zest for life that scared Viago sometimes. 

He stepped past Vi’s bedroom, keeping his footsteps light. He noticed a small noise, one he didn’t quite recognize. Immediately, his blood pressure began to rise. Violetta, now 26, was constantly testing his patience and had recently gotten into the habit of sneaking around. Viago fought every urge in his body to track down whoever she had been with but only after Teia made him promise he wouldn’t. “She’s still young. Let her have some fun. Imagine if someone was following us around at that age.”

“They would have gotten an eyeful. Before they died, that is.” Viago had a hard time saying no to Teia.

He listened more closely. This sound wasn’t hushed voices, rustling sheets, or her window creaking open to allow whoever it was out.

Viago’s breath caught in his throat.

Those were sobs.

She was crying.

Without thinking, Viago grabbed the doorknob and pushed it open. He wasn’t sure what to expect on the other side of the door. He thought he was prepared for anything.

But Violetta sat, crumpled on her floor, make-up running down her face. When she turned to him, he saw that little elven girl again.

“Please go away, Viago. I can’t take your shit tonight,” she snapped, still fiery below her tears. She shuffled a bit, turning her face away from him, hiding herself.

Viago froze. This man had killed more people than there are feathers on a raven, stood up to true evils, and did so without a second thought. But here, he froze, lost.

“What-” he began to choke out until the words escaped him. He swallowed and tried again. “What happened?”

“Nothing,” she forced out between sniffles. Wiping her face with her palms, she tried her best to cover up what she was doing. She turned back towards him, forcing a smile. “Just… me being an idiot. That’s all.”

He finally allowed his senses to kick in. He examined her carefully. She wore a party dress, the same one she had gotten herself for Crow galas. Beside her, a pair of heels lay on the floor. And just beside those, a single flower, Andraste’s Grace, it’s petals crumpled and torn.

The thought hit him like a poison dart. This wasn’t a matter of what, it was a matter of who.

Controlling himself as best he could, he nodded, “Don’t say that,” he mumbled, “You’re not an idiot.”

The sudden sound of Violetta’s laughter soothed his fury just a touch. “You call me an idiot at least three times a day. You had my first blade engraved with the word ‘dumb-ass.’”

Viago forced a smile, trying to reach her. “Sometimes, you’re a dumb-ass,” he shrugged, “But you’re a De Riva. Don’t forget that.”

She beamed up at him, a small smile growing on her face. He wasn’t sure if this was a reassurance or a reminder of the burden of a house name. Either way, she wiped her face once more and stood. “I’m going to bed. I promise I’ll be quieter. Sorry if I woke you.”

“You’ll be sorry tomorrow when you’re running drills for the entire afternoon,” the reprimand came almost instinctively. He cringed a bit but she just smiled faintly.

“Good night, Viago,” she turned herself back to the window and Viago watched as her small frame gave a heavy sigh. It seemed that the tears were over for now. Gently, he closed the door.

Standing in the hallway, his mind raced. He needed to find out who did this. Teia would forgive him when he told her what happened. Maker, she might kill the fool herself.

Viago went to work, as he often did at a late hour, but this time, he had a contract on a mystery. He needed to start where things ended. 

Stepping outside the villa, he retraced her steps back to the lattice below her bedroom window. He wasn’t oblivious to the many ways she would slip out of the villa. He let her believe she was undetected. It was good fuel for the fire if she really did something to piss him off.

Viago ran his fingers through his hair and sighed into the night air. The grounds of house De Riva had seen better days. With the death of Lucanis and the Antaam invasion, he had little time to find gardeners that he could trust. Regardless of the neglect, the flowers still bloomed and the elfroot still overtook half of the walkways.

Suddenly, a voice whispered out of the darkness, nearly causing him to jump.

“You’re out late.”

Viago’s blades were drawn in an instant as he spun to face whoever dared catch him unawares. The figure, slightly taller than himself, stood completely still, unbothered by the pain that was now only inches away.

Illario smiled down at Viago. Viago’s body held its stance, tuned and ready like a compressed spring.

“What are you doing outside my house?” he hissed.

“Treviso is so beautiful this time of year. I fancied myself a walk.” Illario smirked, brushing a strand of his oh-so-perfect hair back into place.

Viago unwound himself, standing up straight to meet his gaze. “Walk your own grounds,” Viago attempted to shake off the adrenaline, sheathing his blades.

“It gets boring, walking the same path again and again. I didn’t think you’d mind so much, Viago. Besides, your villa abuts my own. I couldn’t help but wander.” Again, Illario gave his perfectly practiced smile.

“Don’t you have a nightclub with women that need pestering?” Viago didn’t intend for the question to come out so sharp, so he forced a smile. 

Illario chuckled, “They don’t see it as pestering, I assure you. I’m much too skilled for that.”

Viago was careful with how he spoke to Illario. With the recent death of his cousin, Illario was next in line to become First Talon. Viago knew that for house De Riva to thrive, he would need the support of the Dellamortes. “Forgive me if I am suspicious of people walking around my house in the middle of the night.” he turned his attention back to the gardens around them.

“Then, before I find a dagger in my back, I’ll take my leave. Good evening, Viago.” Illario gave a curt nod, a smirk strung out on his face, as he turned and walked towards the villa gate, disappearing into the evening.

Just before he was gone, just as he stepped out of reach and became one with the darkness, Viago smelled something. Viago had always prided himself on his ability to identify poisons simply by smell. It was a talent he had attempted to pass onto Vi, but she paid little attention for such careful arts.

The smell, he pinpointed immediately. A faint trace of Mother’s Mercy. The poison carried the same smell as the flower it was distilled from; Andraste’s Grace. The smell, so faint, because Viago realized it was not the poison he was smelling.

Viago’s fist clenched into tight balls. Illario, he thought, mind filling with murderous thoughts. He had never liked Illario. He saw his dependence on manipulation and flattery as a disgrace to what being a Crow truly was. 

He stepped back into the villa, feeling sure that his investigation was over before it had even started.

Sitting at his desk, he stewed. Illario was to become his boss someday, the leader of all the Crows in Antiva. He needed him on his side to ensure the safety of house De Riva.

But Illario had made an often fatal mistake; he had hurt someone Viago cared for.

Slamming his fists against the expensive wood, he huffed in frustration.

Violetta could never know that Viago knew who her secret… whatever he was to her is. His mind jumped to the worst conclusions (A fling? A promise of something more followed by disappointment? Someone she had been pining after and she was stupid enough to fall into his well laid trap?). It would embarrass her more so than she already was.

Teia also could not know. Not yet, anyway. She had a nasty habit of taking things into her own hands and held Viago’s protegee in a special place in her heart.

Viago sat, a glass of fine Antivan wine left untouched before him, and realized that the only thing he could do now was wait and plan. He would pretend that the two had never met and keep her as far away from him as possible. Send her on distant contracts. Keep her away from House Dellamorte until he could figure out a proper vengeance for this indiscretion.

Viago was a patient man. In his line of work, you had to be. But as the days turned to weeks turned to months, his hatred for Illario festered. Imagine his relief, then, when in order to protect his protegee who’s heroic blundering put her in every Talon’s sights, he had to send her away on a hunt for an Elven god. The further away from Antiva Violetta was, the safer she would be. From the other Talons, from the Antaam, and from House Dellamorte.

Viago always had trouble sleeping. And now, more than ever, he had plans to make.

[misslavenderlady]

Okay, Sis.

I need Dom David protecting one of his subs from being harassed by a "fake " or aggressive Dom. The guy is spamming her online or something, harassing her and asking her to play with him, and she keeps refusing saying that she's owned. The guy is local and ends up running into her in person. He begins stalking her, and she's scared. David finds out and then goes into Dom Daddy mode to protect his property. 👀👀👀

Daddy Knows Best 🔗

David/Female!Reader

Summary: David is a professional dom who is quite amazing at his job. He's been great to his adoring sub. When a fake "dom" starts to harass her, he'll make sure she's safe by permanently getting rid of the scumbag.

Thank you @ghoulgeousimmaculate for the request! Everyone go send her some love for her own work too!

WARNINGS: Nsfw/Smut/18+ Readers Only, BDSM, Dom/Sub, Leash/Collar, Crying, Comfort, Fake Dom, Threats, Stalking, Daddy Dom, Hunting, Choking, Sex Toys, Happy Ending

“What’s the rule, little one?”

“To let you do all the thinking and to let you have control of me”

“Good girl~” 

David loved being a dom. He was damn good at his job, as maintaining obedience and control was something he was a true master of. Being a vampire and the leader of the Lost Boys had granted him the necessary experience to command others, and when he got more involved in the BDSM scene, his abilities grew stronger.

He loved how much the world had changed in the past 35 years. The modern world of social media made it so much easier to get in touch with others interested in fulfilling kinks and desires. David became quite popular and started to develop dom and sub relationships with those who were drawn to him.

David had always been a rather methodical person, and that helped quite a bit when he was planning out all the details of what each sub wanted. They went over what they  liked, disliked, and expected of him. Even with his bloodthirsty, sadistic nature as a creature of the night, he loved to care for those who willingly came to him. It made them want him even more.

There were two types of domination David liked best. 

One side was brat-taming. Having quite a bit of patience and authority was necessary to put bratty little subs back in line. That wasn’t an issue for David. He LIKED having a bit of fighting spirit in those he dominated. 

The other side was daddy-dom work. Even if he took pleasure in being scary and commanding, David couldn’t resist caring for his adoring subs. Pretty eyes batting his way and soft pouts on lips that whispered his name. It put some warmth in his cold, undead heart. 

Either way, he got his own pleasure out of it all. It made him feel like a king. 

No two subs were exactly alike. Some preferred being tied up, some liked being coddled, and some enjoyed getting struck by an array of different paddles. Even with the variety, David kept a very good track of who liked what and always listened to what they needed. It brought the prettiest little subs his way. There was never a dull or boring moment with his work.

David’s role as a dom wasn’t just limited to kinks. It extended into the overall care of those who submitted to him. 

There was one sub in particular that absolutely adored David and his work. She was a beautiful lady, with curves and voluptuous features that paired well with her angelic face. Every time she gazed at him with those dazzling brown eyes, it put a smile on his face. Then again, seeing her special collar wrapped around her neck was a nice bonus. The metal material had a charm with his initial on it, and could not be removed. Only David had the tools to unlock the collar, and it filled him with pride whenever his girl proudly showed it off. 

He owned her. Inside and out. To have such a bond of trust only added to the pleasure they gave one another. 

Tonight, their session was going so well. David had a leash clipped to her collar, allowing him to keep her close by at his feet while he got comfortable. She knew to behave and do what was expected. 

All it took was a soft tug, and she went right to work. She pulled out a pack of David's favorite cigarettes and a lighter, helping set up a fresh smoke for him. He nodded a silent "thank you" while taking a puff. 

"Fetch me a drink too, baby," David commanded, dropping the leash so she could move freely. 

Seeing her bounce off to the kitchen in her naked glory was stirring up the heat in his groin. As she set ice cubes in a glass and poured a bottle of bourbon, he stared lustfully at her ass. The only downside of wearing a lot of leather for work was how much it made his dick ache when he got hard. 

She dropped back down to her knees when she got back to his chair, raising the glass for him to take. 

"Good girl. Have a seat on Daddy's lap for a while"

David loved having his sub sit pretty on his knee when she wasn't wearing anything. He knew the leather fabric of his pants felt amazing on her bare pussy, but she wouldn't dare try to grind against him or move without permission. If she did, she would be put over his knee instead of on it. 

As he sipped down the alcohol, David casually began to bounce his knee, taunting his sweet girl some more. It was quite fun to taunt the poor thing. Give her a taste of pleasure and test her will to follow the rules. Such a thing usually left her as a shaking mess. 

But not this time.

To David's utter surprise, his sub stayed perfectly still. Her head hung low. It was as if she wasn't even thinking about their intimate moment. Looking closer, there was a sense of sorrow in her eyes. As if she had several woeful thoughts in her mind. 

"Everything alright, baby?" David asked, ceasing his motions. 

It seemed that was the right phrase needed to break down her walls. She burst into tears, shaking her head and whimpering as an answer. She frantically wiped her eyes to fight the waterfall of tears, but couldn't hold back her sadness. 

That was a clear sign that their playtime was over. David never pushed his subs if something was wrong. He simply snuffed out his cigarette, put his drink down, and unclipped her leash. The poor thing was in definite need of some care. 

As discussed in their contract when they first got together, David knew exactly what she needed for aftercare. He scooped her up in his arms to take her into her bedroom. She felt safest in her bed, so that was the perfect spot for when she needed to relax. In no time at all, David had helped wipe her tears, dressed her in the comfiest pajamas she owned, and handed her a glass of water to sip on while he held her in his arms. 

She liked being taken care of, and David never failed to provide that kind of attention. 

"Alright. Are you feeling a little better now, baby? Are you comfortable talking now?" David cooed, nuzzling her as she relaxed in his embrace. 

She nodded before reaching for her phone on her nightstand. With the device unlocked, she pressed a few buttons to find what she was looking for. 

"A few weeks ago some creep messaged me. He was being aggressive and demanding I be his sub," she explained. "I told him I was already owned, but he wouldn't take 'no' for an answer"

She turned her phone screen so David could see what she had pulled up. It was a series of DMs, all full of commanding and rude messages from some stranger. What bothered David was how the guy scoffed at things like aftercare and limits and communication. Anyone who made demands but made no effort to give the respect back disgusted the vampire. 

"I've tried blocking and reporting him over and over again, but he keeps coming back. He calls me a slut for 'teasing' him," she said. Tears were welling up in her eyes again, threatening to go into another crying spell. 

"And that's not even the worst of it…"

That certainly caught David's attention. He looked at his sub with curiosity.

"H-He…he found o-out…sniff…where I work…and h-he blows up my phone while…sniff…while waiting in…in the pa-parking lot…"

The next round of waterworks broke free and David's sub wailed as she cowered into the crook of his neck. Her entire body shook terribly as he held her. Even with her sobs, he could still make out the words she said. 

"I have t-to…get rides h-home…because I'm scared…he'll…"

She couldn't even finish her sentence. It was just too upsetting to even think about what kind of danger she could be in. All she could do was stay in her dom's arms and cry. 

David was a lot of things. Charismatic, demanding, organized. But one thing he was above all else was protective. Whenever someone tried to mess with his boys, he wasted no time in taking down the scum who thought it was okay to do whatever they wanted. The same went for his subs. This wasn't just a lifestyle, it was a bond. God help anyone who tried to hurt the other half of the bond. 

"Look at me, baby," he whispered, tucking his hand under her chin so he could tilt it upward. Her eyes shined as he stared so tenderly. "You let me handle this guy. He's not going to get away with this"

"B-But what…what if he's dangerous? What if h-he tries to…hurt you?" 

David smiled wickedly. It was cute to see his little human worry about his well-being. If she only knew what he was truly capable of. He moved his fingers from her chin down to the collar around her neck. It felt good to trace his fingers over the material and toy with the charm. 

What they had was a real dom and sub relationship. There would always be trust, communication, and care. Even a vampire knew not to be monstrous enough to hurt those who submitted. 

"Just send me a link to his profile. I'm going to make sure he never even thinks of bothering you again. All you have to do is stay home and take care of yourself"

David pressed a kiss to her forehead before helping her down onto the bed. She let him pull the blankets over her body. It was all so scary, but she trusted David with all her heart. 

"Just be careful….Daddy.." she sighed. 

"Don't you worry your pretty little head. Daddy is gonna make this all better~"

Having connections all over made it painfully easy for David to find the creep. Thanks to the link his sub sent he was able to take it from there. It went so fast, he was able to find where the guy lived before he even started up his motorcycle. 

As he took off down the road, David felt the weight of his bag hanging off his shoulder. It was full of special toys he brought over for playtime with his sub. It was about time he showed this wannabe "dom" his work. 

In no time at all, he had made his way to the address, a random, small shack of a house out on the outskirts of the city. Perfect for the little "conversation" he planned on having. 

No nearby neighbors to hear him scream. 

David had no intention of wasting time. With his bike Parker and his bag in hand, he marched up to the front door and kicked it down with his vampiric strength. Hearing a terrified shout come from the other side of the room put a smile on his face. 

"What the fuck??? Who the fuck are you?!" 

Seeing the sniveling rat of a man that dared to bother his sub only fueled the fire of rage that David held even more. To think that someone so pathetic thought they could just make demands and harass his girl and get away with it really pissed the vampire off. 

Not wanting to hear him speak another word, David sauntered further into the room and clamped a hand around his victim's throat. His eyes bulged and his mouth hung open, desperately trying to get air back into his lungs.

"A little birdie told me you were stalking my sub, you freak," David explained casually. With one hand holding the man down, he used the other to unzip his bag. Terrified eyes watched as he unpacked the best toys.

Handcuffs, whips, spiked floggers, gags, clamps. Different subs had different preferences for what he used, but for this occasion, he was planning on being quite rough with playtime. 

"Since you don't have any concept of important things like consent, safewords, and boundaries, I'm sure you won't mind if I do whatever I want with my toys. Isn't that right?"

The sniveling man was pathetically whimpering in his grasp. Even with the limited breath, David could tell he was trying to say something. Most likely an apology for his actions or begging to spare his life. 

Those silent pleas went ignored by David. 

"I don't know about you, but I'm going to have quite a lot of fun with this session~"

David's sub had done as she was told. Between napping, taking a relaxing bath, and ordering her favorite food, she was feeling much better. He always knew when she needed a little TLC, and it made her grateful to be reminded to do as such. 

Her stress relief only got stronger when she finally got a text from David with the news she was hoping for all night.

"I took care of the fake. I can assure you he's not ever going to bother you or anyone else ever again"

"Thank you so much! I'm so relieved" 

She didn't know for certain what David did to the guy, but if he guaranteed she would never be harassed or stalked ever again, then she wasn't going to question it. David was a truly powerful man, yet she always felt so safe and protected thanks to him. 

"You're very welcome, little one. You know Daddy's always going to protect you"

A warmth spread over her cheeks from how much his words made her blush. It only made her long for her dom even more. 

"Then can you come back so we can keep playing? Please, Daddy?"

Her heart fluttered when David responded just moments later. She could practically see the smirk on his handsome face as a result of her message. 

"I'll be over in 15 minutes. I would like you naked and kneeling in front of the door when I get there. Have your leash ready too"

Tonight was going to get a whole lot better. Nothing would keep them apart. The true, dedicated bond of a dom and sub that no fake would ever break apart. 

[neon-junkie]

You know what? Fuck it: Modern!Batch’s secret/surprising talents, let’s go —

Hunter: You’d think it’d have something to do with his tracking skills or even his hypersensitivities but nah — Hunter’s just weirdly good at the claw machines you see in arcades or grocery stores. Comes with the territory of having a plush-obsessed brother like Wrecker and a little sister capable of whipping out the puppy pout even at a very young age. It got to a point where sone arcade managers thought he was cheating but there’s no real way to prove it.

Tech: At first I wanted to say diabolo but the idea of him being awful at it is far more appealing to me. No…Tech’s surprise talent is…composing music. (Is SoundCloud still used as an insult?? I dunno, I’m not hip) At any rate, there are times when he’s holed up in his room and his siblings think he’s doing his usual tinkering or coding when in fact he’s actually got headphones on, GarageBand open, running through scales and praying to whatever gods there may be that the headphone jack doesn’t come loose and reveal whatever he’s working on. He doesn’t really care to have attention on him for it, much preferring to post it anonymously on YouTube. Some people want him to do a Patreon or even Spotify but he’s not entirely sold on the idea. He just wants to get these tunes out of his head exactly as they sounded in there.

Crosshair: I was gonna say mechanic work (check him in the garage souping up an old motorcycle he bought for cheap) but I dunno if he’d even consider it a talent. Crosshair is more the sort to keep his skills quiet, only bringing them out when they absolutely have to be, and you’d better not bring them up again. …That being said, I think everyone already knows or at least suspects that this guy is good at needlework. He’s got the finger dexterity and patience/ability to sit still for long periods for it. But Maker help you if you draw any attention to it whatsoever. He sucked a lot at it as a kid but that secretly festered in him as a need to prove himself wrong and work hard to do better. In secrecy, of course. But there’s only so many places one can hide knitted socks, scarves, and embroidery hoops that definitely aren’t from any old store. The unspoken rule of the house is that if you have an article of clothing that needs hemming or a tear that needs stitching, you simply leave it where he can find it — but you can’t be present for it. And don’t ask him when he’ll be done (once again, that’s acknowledging too much). (It’ll be done within the week, depending on how urgently it’s expressed you need the thing done by.)

Echo: Alternative talent? Ping pong. Old boy can ping some pong. I will not and cannot expand any further it just. Feels right for him.

Wrecker: Well, it’s not a surprise because it’s already been hinted at in the canon, but it’s a shocker to anyone who doesn’t really know him: Wrecker has an eye for decor. …When it comes to literally any room but his own. Kinda like those people who love cleaning other people’s spaces but their own is so disorganized. He just as a way with feng shui and what colors will and won’t go together and just how much dado is enough.

Omega: Omega is a can-do type of girl who embraces all her skills and talents wholeheartedly, so I don’t think there’s any one thing that can be defined as a secret or surprise. That being said, she loves the arts. She’s involved with plenty extracurricular activities at school, ranging from sports to the humanities but I genuinely do think that she hold a particular soft spot for art club. She’s by far not at all stifled at home, she has plenty of room to express herself, but there’s something fun about being in a new environment and being able to bring her thoughts and experiences with her family there. Especially if it means coming home with an abstract painting of Lula or a mosaic of Tech’s van or a portrait of her brothers gifted to them on Veteran’s Day.

Posting this ask as is because it's great!! I love these headcanons lol. 10/10, very in character of them all ahah :P

[shangrila11]

Knowing the enemy // Blitzwing (TfA) & reader

"Now wear did I put the syringes?" you muttered, looking around. After combing around the medical bay, you managed to find said items sitting on a table. Letting out a quiet 'aha', you grabbed the syringes and placed them in the box you were carrying. As you did so, you spotting the band on your wrist. The Decepticons had put it on you to keep track of your movements and to harm you if you were to do anything rash. It was a constant reminder that you were their prisoner. You frowned. You hoped that the Autobots and Sari were alright. As much as you trust the Autobots to take care of the young girl, you couldn't help worry about Sari. She was your charge, after all. You had to escape from here and reunite with them. Somehow.

Your pondering was interrupted by the sound of the doors opening. Random entered the medical bay, greeting you and asking what you were doing.

"What does it look like to you?" you asked, smiling. However, your smile didn't reach your eyes and your voice dripped with sarcasm. Fortunately (or unfortunately depending on how you looked at it), Random didn't pick up on your sarcasm and instead chattered on. You sighed and decided to ignore him, hoping that he would take the hint and leave you alone. However, the Deception still continued talking.

"Could you please shut up!" you yelled, your patience finally running out. Random looked bewildered to say the least but before he could speak, you continued, "Do you not get it the first time? I don't wish to talk to you, who is part of the group that holds me hostage and blackmailss me into work with them so that those I care about won't get harmed. So please kindly get out. I want to be left alone." Random, although seeming reluctant, did as told. As soon as he left, you gritted your teeth, trying to stop the tears that threatened to spill, before resuming your work.

After a while, you had calmed down and was about to finish the sorting the medical supplies when there was a knock on the door.

"Hey, can I come in?" Random asked.

"Yes, you can," you agreed. Random entered the medical bay hesitantly.

"Sorry about earlier. I haven't interacted much with you humans aside from you know, harming you guys. Besides, you seem nice. Nicer than my teammates, anyway," he apologised. You raised an eyebrow. Dang. The Decepticons were a terrible bunch for him to think that way. Not that you didn't know that, of course.

"Eh, it's fine," you waved a hand. "I could have made myself clearer." An awkward silence fell between the two of you before you spoke, "I there's anything you're curious about or you just want to talk to me in general, feel free to do so. Just... don't expect me to reveal anything that may give me or the Autobots any disadvantage."

"Really?"

"Of course. Unless you want me to change my mind," you shrugged.

"Of course not!" Random hurriedly replied.

"Good. Now if there's nothing else, you may go. I have things to do," you said.

"Alright. See you around, human."

"See you."

(Requested by @ellen-andriodo)

(Apologies if Blitzwing is ooc and if it's a little short.)

[teeful-corner]

How much different would Strip be if we knew him before he met Lynda and started racing? Would be be almost the same or would he be almost completely different??

I like to call this post.. STRIP WEATHER THROUGH THE AGES! /j He's... evolved a lot... like- a lot a lot. - Strip Weathers was the hot, new rookie that entered the track with more confidence and skill than the veterans at that time have seen in a long time; He was the talk around the track and the hot shot that everyone knew. - You knew him back when he was racing in local torments, running circles around the other competitors trying to build a name and brand for himself. You were his first supporter, and you were one of the people that made him believe that he would grow to be something big one day. He did, obviously, but you always used to punch him in the damn shoulder for saying shit like that. - Actually before he did racing he participated in Rodeo shows. That new Ranch style house he now lives in? That was his parents house before they passed it onto him. So he grew up was a kid knowing how to ride horses and handle cattle. - Honestly, let's just say Strip? He knew he was sexy southern boy in which girls would swoon over.. and he took advantage of it! He had a lot of talent for many things and entered in as many local contests that he could ( of course those that were in his field). This is how he started his racing carrier, in a little Local 100 lap race.. and HE LOVED IT. He, after getting the sponsorship of his parents, began racing in all the local racing in his town and the neighboring towns. He began racing, he began loving it, and he began winning! - It didn't take long before sponsors began to notice this new uprising rookie; It honestly didn't take long before he was signed with his first Sponsor. You couldn't be any more proud of him!- But let's just say he'd always tell you, " I knew they'd see I was as worthy as'a 5 star hour in'a rodeo show. I had no'oubt they would sign me. " - He was confident and he had the records to back it up, so no one could really back talk him. Other than you. You can back talk him all you want because you've probably known this man since you both were in dippers. He's always been a confident, fire-like guy who had you to try and keep him calm between all of his craziness. No one, when Strip calmed down, would ever believe you when you tell the crazy stories that you have of Strip when he's younger-- IT FUSTRATES YOU SO MUCH. - When he was a rookie, he did the 'all gas', 'no wheels' memo that Lighting does (Lighting had to learn about it from someone). He was probably fired from at least 2 sponsors because of this; having essentially 'thrown away' a few wins because his tire popped mid-race and he fell behind. You'd always tell him off for this, reminding him how dangerous it could be if he did this and crashed into a wall! He continued doing it. - That was, until he signed with Dinoco and got Rodger as a Pit Crew Chief. While he still did his crazy little stunts, he began to windle down on his whole 'all gas, no wheels' memo. Rodger was the only one who could start the process of hammering out Strip to be the man he is today; He was the only one with enough patience and mental strength to begin to do so. You usually where in his pits during a race, cheering him on, and would hear Rodger scolding him ever time he tried to leave without a tire change when he suggested it. A few handful of times he even sat in front of the car... and you were about sure Strip almost ran him over a few times. It was sometimes terrifying being friends with that crazy southern boy. - But he, despite being crazy, still had some chivalry in him. Key word, some. Would open your doors, pull you seat out, but still is a lil pain in your ass because he sometimes pulls the chair from under you when you try to sit. He was a little jokester. But he was Strip and sometimes he honestly made really good attempts to try and get you with the same joke. It was entertaining to watch.

- With Rodger's help, and Tex slowly becoming more involved with Strip's training and being there to support him, Strip slowly dwindled down to a man who had at least some common sense. But, the dramatic shift didn't fully start coming until Lynda came. When Lynda came, you swore that girl brought back a different man a few times... that was until he left and then he became his 'usual self' again;

" Strip Weathers what tricks are you playing on that poor women?! You asked with a nose scrunch, looking at your best friend. He was silently watching Lynda leave with a look that you could only describe at puppy love. Though, as soon as Lynda was out of the drive way (and your patience was almost right about up) he turned to you with a confused look.

" Don't know what'ya talkin' about, there. " Strip stated as he waved you off, jokingly of course, as he headed towards his family's kitchen. You had stayed in the Weather's resident, waiting for Strip to come back from his little date with Lynda to be able to talk to him all about it.

" OH! NO MISTER! You're not gaslighting me! I saw how you were with her. What the hell happen?!- " You pressed on, following Strip into the kitchen with a little huff. That was until he suddenly stopped in the middle of the kitchen, catching you off guard. He turned to look at you with a small smile and the softest glaze you've ever seen him wear..

" She's the one. "

- And from there, Strip started to calm down more in public. Of course, it wasn't a shift that happened over night, but with more of Lynda's influence and more time with team Dinoco he was shaped into the man that everyone now knows at 'Mr. The King'. A quite country boy who takes racing serious but still manages to have fun with it.

- When he was with Lynda, it was like that girl had worked miracles on him you didn't understand. But he still gaslights you sometimes, calming that something from your shared childhood didn't happen when it clearly did. in those moments, you still give him a back-handed slap upside the head like you used to and he'd laugh. He's still a little cheeky, but defiantly the Mr. Dinoco we now know and love-

- THAT'S UNTIL YOU GET THIS MAN BACK ON HIS RANCH DURING OFF-SEASONS. THAT MAN IS BACK TO SOME OF CHAOTIC LITTLE NATURES THAT YOU KNOW WAS STILL IN HIM. BUT THEN WHEN LIKE, OTHER RACERS LIKE LIGHTING AND BOBBY COME OVER WITH CAL, HE ACTS LIKE HE DOES ON THE TRACK.

- Sometimes you wish you never were his friend... that's a lie. He's fun to hang out with.. Just he knows how to hit nerves, especially with you. But, don't worry, because you can do it right back.

- Lynda is so sweet and FINALLY IS ONE OF THE ONLY PEOPLE WHO BELIEVE YOU WHEN YOU TELL HER HOW STRIP USED TO BE. He was always so confused when she believed you, but apparently she had seen the way Strip was during his old Rodeos and on TV when he was younger.. so that makes sense.

- In short summary, before racing and Lynda.. Strip was a little bogger of a human being /j- lil good looking southern boy who knew he was good looking and knew he had talent and flaunted both. But he wasn't crazy like Chick..

- God that's another can of worms... I FEEL LIKE STRIP AND CHICK USED TO BE FRIENDS WHEN THEY WERE YOUNGER IN THEIR RACING DAYS. BOTH HAD LEATHER JAKCETS WITH LITTLE JOKING ' SEE'YA LATER ' PATCHES ON THEM FOR EACH OTHER. IT WAS FUNNY... then Strip grew out of it and Chick didn't and they became enemies ever sense. It was a funny story progression.

- In all honesty, Strip probably had the biggest and long lasting puppy love phase for Lynda. She just made him so happy and he loved her so much. Always told you how he wanted to give her the world because she deserved that and so much more; and how he wanted the be the perfect man for her but didn't know how to- he was a dork.

I RANTED A LITTLE LMAOO I'M SO SORRY JUST- IT'S FUNNY TO THINK THAT THIS MAN, MR. THE KING, HAD A LEATHER JACKET PHASE /J

[big-bad-a-detective-story]

Chapter 07

Henry Boulevard, industrial district. Midnight.

Hypothetically I had been on the case for over six hours: running all over the city on my quest to question all conceivable leads . Yet none would be the wiser, as I was just as energetic as when the case first burst in and spilled the tea. Perhaps even more so, as I was hiding in the shadows between the brick building of ‘Three Fig Jigs’ factory and a dumpster. Doing my best to sniff out those who might be lurking nearby-- and having trouble with the scent of weeks worth of rot overpowering it-- I could see just what I was looking for. Right across the street, one light shining over the entrance gate of the yard…

Was the Crooked Man’s Warehouse.

As stated earlier, it hadn’t been hard to find. The building’s foundation had a heavy lean; a mere huff and a puff away from being blown down. Which would probably explain why the place had been shut down from whatever business it had once been. Practically condemned, no persons meant to be inside for risk to their health.

At least… it was supposed to be that way. But something told me-- just behind the gate and up the slanted staircase of an equally slanted sadist’s structure-- that I would find our stolen scapegoat lying in wait.

“Whoa! Is that where the bad guy lives?”

I was stopped in my tracks, mid-step. I knew that voice. I turned to stare at the little goat girl standing beside me. How these children kept sneaking around without my knowledge was a mystery! She was gazing up at me with stars in her eyes, and admittedly, it quelled any anger I might have otherwise felt. Kid had good taste!

It didn’t, however, alleviate my frustration, nor did it change the fact I did not have time to babysit.

“What are you doing here, little miss?” A light scolding ... wasn’t enough. Went right over the kid’s head. Perfect.

“I followed you! Hey, mister detective, are you gonna save my mommy?”

Oh boy. I knelt down to her level and spoke softly and calmly through my clenched teeth. Patience of a saint.

“That’s the plan, little girl. But that’s going to be a little harder when I’m being followed by curious little kids!” 

“Oh.” 

The child’s eyes became wide upon hearing this, and I smiled. Ah, so she understood what I was telling her. I was just about to command the kid to stay put, so as to allow me to carry on with the investigation, when she started talking once more. 

“Don’t worry, mister detective wolf, I came all by myself!”

Aaaand there went my faith in the youth.

“Look… you.” 

“Daniya!” The child exclaimed cheerfully, trying to help. I waved it off just as quickly.

“Yes yes, Daniya. You need to understand that this is dangerous. You’re not going and that’s FINAL!”

There. I had put my foot down. I was okay with being seen as the bad guy if it kept the kid safe. I would show tough love, with all the resolve I could muster! I would not be swayed!

That was, of course, before Daniya started crying.

“Oh come on now, don’t do that! I’m only trying to protect you...”

This only turned up the flow on the ol’ waterworks. This little girl was putting on a show that would put Niagara Falls to shame.

“That isn’t going to work on me. You’re not going! GO! Home!”

With that situation expertly handled, I focused on infiltrating the hideous hideout. The old lock on the front door had been just as old and falling apart as the rest of the place, and didn’t stand a chance against my trusty crowbar. I slipped inside, silent as a shadow--

“Woooow. This place is spooky!”

-- With child in tow. What? I’m a hardened detective, sure, but I’m not heartless! I spun around to give the kid a well-aimed stare and held a finger to my lips to silence her. We had the element of surprise here, and I’d planned on keeping it for as long as possible.

Daniya mimicked the shushing gesture, treating this like a twisted game of Simon Says. If that was going to keep her safe, then so be it. I put up my hands to signal for her to stay put, as I used the opportunity to roll over to the first stack of crates. I instantly placed myself against them, peeking my head around to see if the coast was clear. Not seeing or hearing anything of note, I turned two of my fingers into legs to show it was safe for Daniya to walk across.

The child, of course, understood none of this as she cried: ‘WHAT?’

“Just get over here!” I whispered harshly, my nerves instantly put on edge. Okay, note to self: create sneaking signalling protocol in the future. 

Luckily for me, I didn’t need to do so now, as Daniya seemed to be a quick learner. And so we went, scaling the large room, mostly hiding behind what looked like old unused car parts. Though, something told me that wasn’t all they stored here. I didn’t have time to investigate, as the closer we got to a twin pair of double doors, I began to hear commotion from the other side. 

And it was growing louder.

Somebody was coming! No, make that TWO somebodies! Realizing this, I grabbed the child and covered her mouth with a paw-- pressing ourselves into the wall. Surrounded by the shadows, I watched as the doors next to us opened.  Out waddled and limped two of the most unfortunate creatures I have ever seen-- a cat and mouse that looked like they’ve been through more scraps than I could ever imagine.

“Nah, I ain’t feelin’ Chinese tonight.” The cat said casually-- I had seemingly caught them in the middle of talk of a late night snack. “What about pizza?”

“Louie’s?” The mouse asked, tone suggesting that didn’t sound pleasing. “ That’s the place that literally only makes the kind with anchovies, right?”

“You got a problem with anchovies?”

“The world’s got a problem with anchovies!” The mouse cried out, nearly toppling over from the action. The conversation carried on as they walked further away, the last bit I heard mentioning whatever they decided on, they should grab something for the goat. 

Which meant I was right: Ms. Meaiz was here after all!

I couldn’t contain my smile, nor did I as the exit door made a loud clattering clack of a noise. Letting go of the kid, I had her full attention as I told her what was to go down.

“Alright, gumshoe, here’s the plan: You’re going to stay put, for REAL this time, missy. You need to be ready to run towards the doors outta this place at my signal.” I pointed towards where we had come from, before nodding my head at the doors behind us. “Meanwhile, I’m going to run in, find your mom, and sneak out before those goons return. Got it?”

The kid stared at me with those wide, sparkling eyes, like I’d just told her the secrets of the universe.

“Momma’s in there?” I could tell that had at least been an attempt at whispering.

“Yes. Probably. Look, just stay here, got it?”

She just continued to stare, never agreeing to anything, but stayed where she was. I backed away slowly, watching her as I went. As soon as I was certain she wouldn’t budge, I turned around and resumed my masterful sneaking.

As I made my way down the hall, I took note of the paintings hanging on the wall, each one hung at an unsightly, crooked angle. No doubt if Felix had joined me on this one, he would have spent the entire night straightening them. Even the walls seemed to tilt this way and that, causing me to feel disoriented and dizzy. I tried not to stare. It helped. I glanced inside rooms as I passed, finding most empty, some filled with crates. At last I came to the end of the hall, the last door-- the correct room, by process of elimination. I took a deep breath and with nerves of steel I slipped inside, gun pointed and at the ready for any confrontation.

I lowered said gun immediately upon hearing a short, startled cry. And there was  Ms. Meaiz sitting at a round table in the center of the room. Sipping tea from a little cup with a crooked handle. Even the table had one bent leg, causing the entire thing to slant awkwardly to the side, rendering it completely useless as a table at all. 

This guy really knew how to take a theme too far.

“Uh, ma’am? Ms. Meaiz? I'm the Big Bad Wolf, I’m here to save you. From being kidnapped.” I shifted my eyes warily around the room. This had Trap written all over it. “You WERE kidnapped, weren’t you?”

She rested her cup in her lap and smiled at me sweetly.

“Oh! Hello, Mr. Wolf. Thank you very much for coming to rescue me, I was very much kidnapped! Oh, but please go easy on him, he has every right to be upset. I just hope my children are alright.”

This was ... strange. Alarm bells were going off through every one of my senses at this point.

“Your kids are fine, I made sure of it…” I faltered, “he didn’t attempt to restrain you what-so-ever?” She was just sitting there, sipping tea, alone. Were you seeing why I was so unsettled? Everything was wrong about this situation, the off-kilter decor the least of it.

“Well, yes, I was tied up for a while. But he and I both decided this was much more comfortable for conversation.”

Uh huh. Right. I was not amused.

“Are you in any danger?” I spoke slowly and clearly. I was beginning to doubt my suspicions, after all. I watched as she opened her mouth to reply, and instantly shut it again. A moment later I realized why, when a bony hand came down on my shoulder.

“I think it’s safe to say, Mr. Wolf, that she is in considerably less danger than you are.”

I tried to turn around, but was suddenly held in place as the hand that was on my shoulder dug their fingers into me. I tried to squirm away from the grip, at the same time knowing I needed to yell for the child down the hall to run for help.

“DAN-MRPH!” 

My cry was cut short by a cloth covering my snout-- blocking all airways. Admittedly, I panicked, not thinking in the slightest as I flailed-- doing my best to kick and slash my way to freedom. I huff and puffed and… and…

The world around me blurred, peripherals greying as I found all fight fading. I was slipping away from the room, eyes landing on Ms. Meaiz’s concerned expression. There was only one thought on my mind, as I fell limp in my attacker’s arm:

That hadn’t gone as planned.

[ryanlockheart]

— ₊ ° . ☆ keegan and zeke may have been from completely different worlds, but they were more alike than the eye could see. neither boy was afraid to take what they wanted, and that was what made them a surefire match. it was only a matter of time before they both realized that and put pride aside. keegan wasn't one to ruin the moment, let alone allow his feelings to complicate things. he was a playboy after all, and he had a reputation to uphold — for the time being. "had a feeling ya might like it," keegan teased. "y'should. i'll make sure you get 'em back with a few loads all over 'em." he winked at the smaller boy. the mischief in his blue eyes were twinkling in the dim, incandescent glow of the living room. his parents probably wouldn't approve of his lover, but their opinion had never mattered much to him. keegan was a hedonist at his core, chasing after his own cheap thrills to keep himself satiated. maybe he'd conflated giving zeke back shots with happiness — and that was why he had yet to break and let his feelings seep in. "was so fuckin' hot. everyone was watchin' us... could see how hard it was makin' some of the guys around us," he breathed out, a smirk on his lips. keegan didn't mind an audience every now and then. when he was horny, he was horny; nothing was going to stop him. "patience, baby. you're gonna get everything you want, y'know that," keegan assured him, capturing his lips once again. they were addictive; he could never quite get enough... but that could be said about all of zeke. "i know ya will. such a slut for daddy's feet, aren'tcha?" he remarked with a little chuckle. his socked toes wiggled a little as they grazed against zeke's leg. teasing him was easily one of his favorite things to do; he liked seeing him squirm. "and you just get sluttier and sluttier every time you lay those pretty lil' eyes on it," keegan spoke. he let out a moan as that sinful tongue slid across his length. that pretty face pressed up against his low-hanging balls was a sight to behold, one that would be forever engrained into the folds of his mind. "and 've got the perfect one to do just that," he declared with a smug smirk on his face. eyes rolled back into his head as that tongue slathered spit all over his cock whilst that soft hand pumped his hard cock. he had found heaven on earth — no one could convince him otherwise. "mhm, i do. 'm sure you'd love anything i gave ya, princess," keegan teased. his eyelids fluttered open to focus on the boy down on his knees. "'m sure you'd let me piss in that pretty little mouth if i told ya you could have these rank feet whenever you wanted... you that big of a slut for m—" he stopped in his tracks at the sound of footsteps. keegan kept zeke in place, head buried in his sweaty sac. blue eyes shifted to see his step-brother sauntering in, watching in amazement. he could even see his cock stirring in his faded jeans. keegan knew it was wrong, but his body gave him away. his own cock jumped, leaking pre-cum down the length of his shaft. "bro, what the fuck? get the fuck outta here," keegan barked. "can'tcha see 'm a little busy?"

— ₊ ° . ☆ landon granger, much like keegan, had a bit of a reputation in charleston. 'fuckboy' was generally the word thrown around in the small town gossip he caught wind of — not that he minded. girls flocked to him like birds took to the sky. his charms were undeniable, but he was after one thing and one thing only. he'd never been with the same girl for more than a couple of months... but yet, they still fell for his signature smirk and flirtatious quips. guys had never been on his radar, not even at his most desperate... but when turned the door knob and saw the pink-haired boy down on his knees for his step-brother, landon couldn't deny something had been awoken within him. he was fresh from a night with friends, the post-club glow of his sweat still lingered on his skin. the musk and sandalwood of his cologne filled the room the second he stepped inside. landon didn't remark upon anything, just watched casually. his cock twitched in his jeans that left little to the imagination. keegan had always been on the freakier side; he didn't imagine he'd be so jumpy at the prospect of landon observing. hell, landon didn't mind onlookers — but then again, landon hadn't exactly sought out his best friend's girl to join him and his own, which had given the other boy no choice. it was wrong, pervy even to watch his step-brother's sweaty sac getting lapped up... but it was too good to pull away. a small pout appeared on his lips. "aww, c'mon, keeg. not even gonna ask your little friend if he wants to put on a show?" landon teased with a smug smirk. he didn't back down. he plopped down on the couch opposite the pair. he kicked his feet up onto the coffee table, watching their every moves. "looks like you like it anyway, you kinky fuck," he went on. "'m impressed — not gonna lie. you gotta sexy little slut that's willing to worship ya head to toe... 'n' i know your balls are rank. you stink like a motherfucker when we workout. christ, 'n' you love it, don'tcha, zekey?"

what zeke adored most about keegan was his audacious mind. he was open to everything, and that was hard to find in a town like charelston. while everyone else was quick to turn their noses up at a newcomer with pink hair and thrifted threads, keegan was ever so curious. there were a thousand reasons for them to be together, but zeke knew that it would never pan out the way they'd want it to. sex was a lot more fun than a broken heart, right? "y'know, i'm startin' to feel like you're objectifying me, waring," zeke said, sporting his signature smirk. "keep it up and i might let ya' keep these panties." zeke would never fit into the arrogant, aristocratic circles that keegan ran in. he cursed like a sailor, lived in a studio apartment, and sold marijuana paraphernalia for a living. his parents would rather drop dead than let their son commit to a boy like him, and zeke was alright with that. as long as he got his back blown out and a peek at keegan's sexy step-brother on his way out, he would be more than satisfied. "y'already know it, darlin' — think you learned that after i let ya' finger me on that dance floor last month, daddy," he snickered. a sudden yelp slipped past his lips as keegan slapped his ass, a pout on his lips. "y'know i only like spankings when i ain't got nothin' on, daddy. i like the sting." as keegan's addictive musk filled the room, zeke's eyes glazed over. he loved that scent more than anything, but only keegan's could have such a strong effect on him. "i'll do whatever i gotta do, daddy. those filthy fuckin' socks are going home with me," zeke assured, waiting patiently for that heavy cock to be released. he moaned out as it slapped against his face, pressing a kiss to the leaking tip. "i swear to god, it gets bigger every time i see it," he breathed out. zeke dragged his tongue along the underside of keegan's shaft, stopping once he reached his prize. he closed his eyes and pressed his nose against the heavy sac, breathing in keegan's masculine aroma. "smells like y'need a little slut to clean you up," zeke said with a smirk. he parted his lips and lapped at keegan's sweaty balls, groaning as the taste settled on his tongue. he wrapped his hand around that thick cock, languidly stroking it as he worshipped the low-hanging sac. "love these sweaty nuts daddy, but y'know that, huh?" he asked, lips slick with saliva and sweat. "know me so well, don't you? i bet you were rock hard in the gym just thinkin' about all the filthy shit you could get me to do, huh? all you gotta do is whip out this fat cock or kick those sweaty feet up, and i'm all yours."

[sammy-is-not-smiley]

Replacement (Part 1/2)

Steve Harrington x fem!reader

S4 SPOILER FREE

Summary: After coming across Steve and Dustin on the railroad tracks, you ended up accidently going through hell with them fighting demodogs and helping the Byers at their house. Now, you were tasked with keeping the kids safe at the house with Steve. The only thing is you assumed you were keeping them safe from interdimensional monsters... not Billy Hargrove. 

Word count: 4.1k

Warnings/tags: Fist fight, anxiety, gross non-con kiss, creepy Billy, hurt but not much comfort yet

A/N: This one starts a little boring but gets interesting towards the end lol. If I missed any possible trigger warnings please feel free to let me know! I’m still learning how to properly put them. I want to be able to give proper warning for those who need it. Part 2 will be available immediately :)

Read Part 2

Pondering over the night once again, you stared in the mirror, face dripping with cold water. Just the day before, the thing you were most worried about was your upcoming math final. Now, that final was a fading blip in the back of your mind. The night had consisted of fighting dog-like beasts with Steve Harrington, hiking in the woods with a nerdy group of middle schoolers, and meeting a little girl with superpowers who saved your life right before your eyes. To say nothing felt right was an understatement. 

A majority of the group that had been at the Byers’s minutes before had just left to carry out a plan you barely could keep up with. They all seemed to know what they were talking about though, and that was enough for you. In the end, you and Steve were left to keep the kids at the house and keep them safe while everyone else went to their separate missions. Considering the exhaustion you felt from the events of the evening, you were more than happy to be a co-babysitter. 

With a heavy sigh, you wiped your face with a clean towel and exited the Byers’ bathroom. As you did, a crashing erupted from the kitchen.

“All right,” You heard Dustin say. “It should fit now.”

You cautiously turned the corner to see the dead Demodog from the living room wrapped in a quilt in Steve’s arms. Dustin stood in front of a completely empty fridge, metal racks and bottles of condiments littering the floor next to him in a messy pile.

“Is this really necessary?” Steve asked in labored breaths. He noticed you as you entered the kitchen and looked at you with pleading eyes.

You rolled your eyes and fought a smile at Steve’s inability to say no to Dustin. “Dust, what are you putting him through now?”

“I’m preserving science,” Dustin replied sternly. “This is a groundbreaking scientific discovery! We can’t just bury this like some common mammal, okay? It’s not a dog,” He said to both you and Steve.

You and the taller boy glanced at each other, thinking the same thing. You looked back at Dustin, “Dude…. Demo-dog.”

Dustin rolled his eyes. “I call it that because it sounds badass, not because it’s scientifically accurate! It looks like a dog but it probably isn’t part canine.”

Steve groaned loudly, patience fraying, and started approaching the empty fridge. “Whatever Dust, you’re explaining this to Mrs. Byers,” He stressed.

He attempted to stuff the creature into the fridge but very obviously struggled, making you smirk. Your eyes trailed over and you caught yourself having to pull your eyes away from his jawline and neck as it flexed.

Now? Really? You shook your head as you chastised yourself. This is where being exhausted gets you.

The fridge shook as the head of the Demodog smacked against it. “Agh, help me out,” Steve grunted at Dustin. 

“What am I supposed to do?”

“Get the door or something!” Steve’s head turned and he pleaded your name. “Help.”

You scoffed and put your hands up, shaking your head. “Not my circus, not my monkeys. I’m not touching that thing.”

Groaning in response, Steve continued his struggle until finally, the fridge door could be slammed shut. You could hear the clang of glass bottles inside and the two boys let out a huff as you turned and began walking into the living room to get a subtle head count of the other kids.

Lucas and Max swept up the shattered glass from the window Eleven had thrown the Demodog through. Mike paced back and forth nervously, not paying any mind to you or the other two.

“Mike!” Lucas snapped suddenly, making you jump as you walk in. “Would you just stop?”

“You weren’t in there, okay, Lucas? That lab is swarming with hundreds of those dogs,” Mike snapped back with just as much bite. It was obvious he was worried sick for El.

“The chief will take care of her,” Lucas weakly tried to reassure, an air of annoyance in his tone. You admitted to yourself you were a bit annoyed with Mike too. He’d been nothing but pissy the whole night.

Max quietly scoffed. “Like she needs protection…”

Your shoulders sagged at the children's lame attempts to try and put Mike at ease. He might be irritable, but those kinds of responses wouldn’t pull him down from it. You took a step towards Mike. “Max is kind of right. I mean, you saw what she did to that…. Demodog,” You hesitated, the word still foreign on your tongue. “She threw it through the window with her mind. I think she might be able to handle a few more dogs.”

“You weren’t there either!” Mike practically barked your name. “This isn’t just ten or fifteen of those dogs, it’s hundreds. What’s this to you anyway? Why are you here?”

You felt a flame of anger burst into your chest. This was the first you had talked to him that night and you weren’t going to stand him shoving that attitude onto you. You thought Hopper had put this kid in his place before they left, but apparently not. “I don’t know, maybe because I want to help while it feels like the world is suddenly falling apart? News flash, Michael, I am as scared to death as you are. Don’t put us below you because you think none of us understand,” You fumed at him a little louder than intended. You really couldn’t regulate your own emotions while exhausted.

“Hey, hey, hey,” Steve interjected between you and Mike, a dish towel in one hand as he lifted both hands up. “Time out you two.”

You both rolled your eyes, turning in opposite directions. Mike really wasn’t worth the little energy you had left.

“Listen, dude,” Steve directed toward Mike. “Tone it down a bit. If the coach calls a play in the game, bottom line, you execute it. All right?”

Mike turned to Steve, a newfound rage in his eyes. “Okay, first of all, this isn’t some stupid sports game, and second, we aren't even in the game. We’re on the bench.”

Steve nodded as he wiped his hands on the dish towel. “Right, so my point is… Yeah, we’re on the bench so uh… There’s nothing we can do.” He concluded and threw the dish towel back and over his shoulder.

“That’s not entirely true,” Dustin argued. “I mean, these Demodogs have a hive mind. When they ran away from the bus they were called away.”

Lucas leaned against a broomstick. “So if we get their attention…”

“Maybe we can draw them away from the lab,” Max said.

“And clear a path to the gate,” Mike finished.

Steve folded his arms over his torso. “Yeah, and then we all die.”

“Or not,” You piped up. If you didn’t know any better you would think these kids had a hive mind too. Their plan was thought up quickly but it sounded about right as far as you could tell. And with Mike’s mood making yours go sour, going out and doing something useful didn’t sound half bad. Otherwise, you might end up beating a child whos name starts with an ‘M’.

“Really?” Steve's shoulders sagged at you. “You’re the one supposed to be on my side here!”

You shrugged and gave an insincere apologetic expression. “Steve, as much as it annoys me to say this at the moment, Mike is right. This isn’t a sports game, there are no rules. And I’m pretty sure the opponent plays dirty anyway.”

Steve put his hand up to his face to shield it from the kids and mouthed a dramatic ‘ fucking stop it’. All you did was innocently smile in response. 

“I got it!” Mike exclaimed and ran past you into the kitchen. He squat down and pointed to a spot on a drawn vine put together by papers on the fridge. “This is where the chief dug his hole. This is our way into the tunnel. So…” He stood and ran to another area. A larger one where all the pages of drawn vines led to. “Right here, this is like a hub. You got all the tunnels feeding in here. So, maybe if we set this on fire--”

“Oh yeah, that’s a no,” Steve shot down immediately.

“The Mind Flayer would call away its army,” Dustin followed Mike’s thought process, ignoring Steve.

Lucas grinned widely. “They’d all come to stop us!”

“Guys--” Steve tried to interrupt. 

“Yeah, and then we circle back to the exit,” Mike continued. “By the time they realize we’re gone--”

“El would be at the gate!” Max followed as well.

“Wait, all this is a real map?... Are you sure we could make it out before they get there?” You asked, reminded that once again you were missing details of the situation.

“Hey! Hey! Hey!” Steve hollered as he clapped his hands to get everyone’s attention. “This is not happening! I promised to keep you shitheads safe, and that’s exactly what I plan on doing. Especially you,” He jabbed a finger at you, making your eyes widen and your heart jolt. “‘Cause with all due respect, you aren’t supposed to be in this mess in the first place.” He looked back to the children. “We’re staying here, on the bench, and we’re waiting for the starting team to do their job. Does everybody understand?” Steve lectured as he put his hands on his hips. 

“This isn’t some stupid sports game!” Mike reiterated himself.

“I said does everybody understand that?... I need a yes,” Steve finished in expectancy.

A moment of silence fell on the room.

“We would have to be quick,” You broke it, looking down at the hub all the vines led to. A hint of guilt directed at Steve sat in your stomach at ignoring him… But the more you thought about it the more you were on the kid's side. It wasn’t your fault Steve felt responsible for your wellbeing. Plus, you were pretty sure the kids would follow through on their plan whether you and Steve supported it anyway. 

Steve yelled out your name. “What the hell?” He snapped. “We’re not doing this!” He gestured his hands out.

You sympathetically look back to meet his brown eyes, which once again were pleading with you to help him out here. 

You ran a hand through your hair in exasperation. Walking up to him you sternly held eye contact with him. “The other team doesn’t play fair, so why should we?” You repeated yourself in nearly a whisper. “I think all hands on deck might be necessary for this one.”

Just as it looked like he was wavering and about to break, the roar of a car engine revved from the driveway. Headlights blared through the front living room window. 

Max’s eyes went round in recognition and she ran to the window, looking out to confirm who had arrived.

“It’s my brother. He can’t know I’m here,” She looked at Lucas at her side, who had followed her suit. “He’ll kill me… he’ll kill us,” She said shakily. 

“This is the WORST TIMING.” You mumbled, looking back at Steve for his reaction. He had turned toward the door, his face suddenly plastered with a newfound determination. 

You knew Billy, or at least as well as you could being in the same grade as him. He was also someone who played dirty, you saw that clearly from watching him on the basketball court.

Steve suddenly slapped his dish towel to the ground and strode over to the door. He walked out and closed it behind him as you watched with wide eyes. 

“What’s he doing!?” Max hissed, looking back toward you.

You put a hand to your face and drug it down your cheek as nerves made your stomach knot. “Keeping us shitheads safe?...”

The kids took up all the space around the window, leaving you to stand to the side and rely on them for info. “What’s happening?” You asked in a hushed tone. You sat and watched the beams of light, hoping to see them turn away and disappear. However, they remained.

“They’re just talking,” Lucas replied, staring intently out the window.

“I don’t think it’ll stay that way for long,” Max speculated, shaking her head slightly.

You shook your head. “I don’t think so either.”

Suddenly the three younger kids ducked down below the window and onto the couch.

“Shit, shit, shit!” Dustin swore. 

“What!?”

“He saw us in the window! I didn’t think he would be able to see us, ah shit!” 

“He knows I’m here,” Max professed, eyes wild and panicked.

“Oh my god, okay, off the couch!” You commanded, practically yanking them by the arms and pulling them back toward the hallway. “Do you think he’ll try to get inside?” You tried to ask Max, but before you could get an answer the door swung open and slammed back against the wall.

You whirled around to the doorway to see a shadow standing in the frame that definitely wasn’t Steve. 

“Quite the party in here, huh?” Billy boasted and slammed the door behind him. On instinct, you put your arms out protectively in front of the kids. However, Billy looked right past you as if you weren’t even there. 

Where the hell did Steve go?

“Lucas Sinclair, what a surprise,” Billy said, attempting to advance toward the boy.

You stepped forward and came between the two. “Billy, get out of here,” You warned in as stern and protective a voice you could muster. You were surprised, though, at how bold you managed to sound.

Billy scoffed dramatically. “You know (y/n), I’ve never known you to be the excitable type,” He said smugly, finally acknowledging your existence in the room.

“You don’t know me,” You seethed back at him, trying to maintain the painful eye contact. “Just leave. Leave us all alone.”

He rolled his eyes and took a puff of his cigarette, tossing it to the floor. He shifted his gaze to Max. “I thought I told you to stay away from that loser, Max,” He grumbled, glaring at Lucas.”And the rest of them while you’re at it.” He glared at you like you were chopped liver. Your eye contact faltered slightly under his gaze.

Max drilled a fiery stare at her stepbrother. “Billy, go away.”

“You disobeyed me,” He continued. “And you know what happens when you disobey me.”

Your hands tightened into fists at his tone.

WHERE IS STEVE?

“I break things.” Billy barely finished the sentence when he shoved you out of the way and lunged at Lucas.

The motion taking you by surprise, you stumbled over your own feet and smacked your head on the ground, landing hard on the floor. The house around you visually shifted and you tried to regain your senses as Billy picked Lucas up by his jacket over you. He swiftly carried him into the kitchen and slammed Lucas’s smaller body into a shelf with a crash. In a panic, you attempted to grope around you for something. You guessed you were looking for some sort of weapon.

If Steve wasn’t here, then it was up to you to protect these kids, even if it wasn’t from monsters from another dimension. Billy was enough of a beast as it was.

“Since Maxine won’t listen to me, maybe you will,” Billy growled at Lucas. “You stay away from her. Stay away from her! You hear me?”

Suddenly a new figure burst through the front door. Steve’s eyes fell to see you on the floor, disoriented, as Billy’s yells echoed from the kitchen. He stared at you, then at the frightened children trying to help you up, and his eyes blazed with anger.

“Get off me!” Lucas yelled and kicked Billy, causing him to groan and release his grip on the boy.

“You’re so dead Sinclair! You’re dead!”

Steve turned the corner into the kitchen with purpose and spun Billy around by the shoulder. “No, you are.” His fist collided with Billy’s face.

“No, no, no, no,” You muttered under your breath as you finally stood, Dustin and Max’s grip still on your arms. After the first punch, you knew exactly where this was headed. It couldn’t end well, not with Billy.

A lump formed in your throat when instead of groaning or responding in anger, Billy began maniacally giggling like a clown. “Looks like you got some fire in you after all, huh?” He digressed at Steve. “I’ve been waiting to meet this ‘King Steve’ everybody’s been telling me so much about.”

“Get out,” Steve replied sternly.

Billy stared at him a moment, meanwhile, you hoped whatever fire that had been lit beneath the two had diffused. You shook off the children’s grasp and just when you thought it was over, the fire raged again and Billy took a swing at Steve. He ducked, causing Billy to strike the air, giving Steve the opportunity to punch once more. Again and again, Steve pivoted successful blows as the kids began to yell and cheered him on.

All you could do was stand silent with a pounding heart and frozen body, not exactly sure what to do. You’ve never intervened in a fight before, let alone been in one. You fought dog monsters just hours earlier, why couldn’t you get your feet to move and help Steve now?

Just protect the kids. 

You corralled Lucas back over to you, putting him behind you once again. Looking back at the fight, you began to feel hope rise in your chest when Steve looked to be handling the still laughing lunatic pretty well.

Until he wasn’t.

Billy took hold of a plate and bashed it against Steve’s head, shattering the plate to pieces. He then took Steve’s moment of weakness and progressed toward him, throwing punches equal to what he had received from the other teen. 

You pushed the kids back as the two moved their conflict past you and into the living room. Billy clutched Steve’s jacket and the two locked eyes.

“No one tells me what to do,” He grossly sneered, then pushed Steve across the room with terrifying strength.

Billy then got down and pounded Steve’s face relentlessly into the floor with his fists, to the point where Steve’s face was an unrecognizable bloody mess. With each hit you found yourself flinching.

You stared at Billy in horror as tears began to sting your eyes. Then your eyes met Steve, who no longer looked conscious. Something snapped inside of you at that moment and a flood of pure rage ran through your being, exploding from your chest. Your hands were squeezing into fists again, your nails digging into your palms, and you strode over to Billy. Roughly, you gripped a clump of his hair and yanked him back from Steve’s limp body. 

Billy landed on his back at your feet and stared up at you. The children’s yelling suddenly ceased. Your eyes widened at the realization of what you had done and you took a step back. Bringing your hand up from your side, you clearly saw a wad of Billy’s crusty, curly mullet woven in your fingers.

A smirk began growing on his face as Billy observed the fear washing over yours. He laughed wildly again. “Very unexpected,” He said with a grunt as he slowly stood up. “So, what, are you, Harrington’s pet now?”

You let the hair in your hand fall to the floor. “... Huh?”

Billy began walking toward you in deliberate menacing steps. “You know, a little bird told me you’re just a lonely pervert. A little perv who likes to watch us guys on the court.” He took another step closer.

While you couldn’t properly voice it in the moment, you didn’t go to basketball practice at school to site see. You always went to meet with your math tutor. But of course, Billy would twist it like that…

You could feel the tingling behind your nose of tears beginning to well. Desperately, you fought the feeling. “That’s…” Your mind went blank as you backed away from the taller boy. You fumbled around in your mind for a good comeback or even just a name to call Billy, but nothing came of it. Humiliation quickly took a firm hold on you.

He laughed again, a disgusting, prideful laugh. “Oh, come on, it’s all true isn’t it?” He bellowed. “And I bet the only reason Stevie’s with you is because no one else will give you the time of day. Am I right?” He smiled wickedly. “He’s gone mushy.”

“We’re not together,” You barely said audibly. Of all things, your tired brain chose that to say. The rage that had flooded your system only a minute before was long gone and you struggled to find it again. 

You continued to step back away from him only hit a wall, halting you in your tracks. Billy took a step closer and slammed both hands up on the wall on either side of your head, trapping you. You aren’t much shorter than him, but at that moment he seemed to tower feet over you. Although you suddenly refused to make eye contact while he was that close, you could still smell cigarettes in each hot breath he exhaled. Hot and sweaty breaths that made you want to gag.

“What was that, babydoll?” He asked in a low brusque tone that masked his thunder. It made goosebumps erupt over your skin… And not in a good way.

You inhaled shakily and grimaced, trying not to choke on the foul stench of his breath. “Don’t call me that. I said… we’re not together. You need to leave.” Your chest felt tight and you squeezed your hands into fists again, not out of anger but in fear.

“Oh, really? You two aren’t an item? Well, I guess it’s okay if I do this, then.” 

Your eyes widened as you felt his lips forcefully press onto yours. Immediately, you put your hands on his chest, trying to push away only to be met with the wall on your back. He brought his hands up and held your head with a painful grip on the sides, fingers pulling your hair at the roots. His grip was too strong and, in panic, you began hitting his chest with your closed fists.

The smell and taste of smoke was overwhelming as Billy forced his slimy tongue past your lips and into your mouth. Salty sweat and a hint of metallic blood made its way off his upper lip and into the kiss, causing you to finally gag. You started to dig your nails into his bare arms, desperately trying to make him pull away as you weren’t able to. 

Abruptly, he pulled away and put his hand to his neck as something stuck out of it. You didn’t even try to see what happened, instead, you crumbled to the floor in defeat. Earnestly you wiped at your mouth with your hoodie sleeve, squeezing your eyes shut, trying to will away what had just happened. Your body jerked and convulsed in tremors and you could feel the hot tears finally flowing down your face.

Suddenly, a rough thud rattled the floor in front of you, causing you to jolt and look up. Your watery eyes were met with Billy laying there, barely conscious, yet still horrifically chuckling to himself.

“From here on out, you leave me and my friends alone. Do you understand?” Max warned Billy as she held Steve’s spiked bat over him threateningly.

“Screw you,” He mumbled.

Max swung the bat down onto the wood floor between his legs, making your body jolt. “Say you understand! Say it… Say it!” She screamed.

“I understand.”

“What?” Max pressed.

“I understand,” Billy grunted, then quietly went limp and passed out.

Max let out a breath as she dropped the bat to her side, once again making you jump. She turned and looked at you, still sitting on the floor with shiny streaks of tears streaming steadily down your face. Your head was turned toward Billy, but you wouldn’t look at him.

“Oh god,” Max lamented your name. “I’m so sorry, so so sorry,” She knelt down next to you, wrapping her arms around your broken body.

You simply let your head fall back into her arms, closing your eyes. Shame flooded your chest as you realized the kids had been there and saw the whole thing. Your tears quickly soaked the girl’s green jacket, but you paid no mind. You heard footsteps next to you, then the soft embrace of more arms. As you sat in the fetal position on the floor, the children embraced you in a shield of themselves. Their body warmth radiated safety, a concept you were struggling to hold onto in the moment.

“I- It’s not you- your fault,” You finally managed to hiccup. 

[gatakat]

surrender | part 2

"You must think I'm some kind of monster, hiding from my fans like this"

Sakusa peeked carefully behind the column. That little kid and his dad were still there, in line waiting to make their order. He looked back at you. The smile on your face was gentler than... Well, gentler than what he could have possibly expected after what just happened.

"I know you play volleyball because you enjoy it, not for fame." You replied.

He peered into your expression, looking for any sign, any minuscule twitch of your facial muscles that could reveal that you were being sarcarstic. Or condescending, which would have annoyed him even more. He couldn't find anything.

“How magnanimous.” He said, looking away from your big honest eyes. And he realized it came out more insincere than he intended.

You really were a good person. That was the conclusion Sakusa had come to after two months of riding the train with you, and of watching you excel at your job at MSBY Black Jackals.

It made him feel... inadequate, in a way, seeing you outperform all the other team managers by a very long mile, not just efficiently doing what you were told but additionally always keeping track of every minuscule detail that needed caring. From who usually needed more water than the rest, to who was taking a certain medication that week, including running after Miya whenever he forgot his umbrella in the lockers and delivering personal messages to Bokuto from his old high school friends. Hell, you had reminded Barnes of his upcoming anniversary with his wife when he'd forgotten, and even suggested various examples of last minute gifts he could get.

Why were you like this? Did you really have that much extra time and energy to be wasting it into other people's needs like this? Sakusa knew he could never spend one minute more than strictly necessary caring about others to that extent. He knew the other managers were like him too. But you... you seemed to have learned, in just a couple of weeks, which specific fans gave Sakusa the biggest headaches, and you had mastered the art of lying to shoo them away.

The company policy was to lick the fans' asses as much as possible. And yet, you were doing things like tell them that Sakusa had already left home even though the truth was that he was hiding away in the locker room.

No other team manager had ever done something like that for him, and Sakusa wasn't 100% sure he liked how that made him feel because he always took care to be prepared for every situation. He hated people who were unprepared. So why was he needing someone to save his ass like that?

No. It definitely rubbed him the wrong way. And yet he could't possibly get mad at you. Not when you looked at him with those big, thoroughly honest eyes of yours, crinkled into a bright smile...

You were smiling at him.

Sakusa blinked.

It was a beautiful Summer night in downtown Osaka. Nights always made Sakusa feel safer somehow. It was like the World spinned more slowly at night, and he could take things at his own pace with no outside pressure.

Besides, tonight it was burger night with Bokuto and the guys and the city was vivid as ever, full of people going home from work and students around their age just hanging out.

Sakusa had come to enjoy watching all this hectic pace around him, as long as it didn’t get too crowded. He took that as proof of his progress with his anxiety. Nowadays, all the noise, activity and lights around him, combined with his friends’ constant laughter, had turned these burger nights into something Sakusa had secretly come to cherish, like a surprisingly fun break from routine. 

What he wasn't so used to, however, was you participating in them. But you were a nice girl, a good person, so he didn’t really mind. Besides, Bokuto had insisted and insisted until he'd exhausted everyone's patience. 

And you coming had been a good thing, after all, because, as Sakusa waited in line to get his order at the counter, you -always vigilant and helpful- had approached him to alert him of the presence of one of his more annoying fans.

He hadn't been expecting to hear your voice calling out to him at that precise moment, however, so he'd unthinkingly swatted your hand away from him, a startled look on his face.

And you -always patient and understanding- hadn’t paid it any mind. You hadn't cared that he’d pretty much barked at you not to touch him. Instead, you had just grabbed his sleeve and pulled him towards a hidden area by the restrooms.

“Sorry for hitting you earlier.” Sakusa said.

You laughed.

“I’m going to accept your apology because, even though you didn’t hurt me, you could have done it very easily with those huge hands of yours!”

Sakusa’s silent gaze made you visibly restless, and you backtracked immediately:

“It’s fine, though. Really.”

Even after your reassuring words, Sakusa still felt uneasy.

It would have been easier if you'd just yelled at him. But you had to go and be a good fucking person again.

You waited with Sakusa behind the column until the little kid finished ordering and finally sat down, and then, when Sakusa's order number was called, you went and picked up the burger he'd bought. And, just like that, that ill-fitting feeling took place in his chest again.

Guilt, Sakusa thought. He felt guilty.

Sakusa looked around him. It felt like he'd been hiding behind the column with you for an eternity. The others were probably wondering where you'd gone.

“C'mon, let's go.” Sakusa said as soon as you came back with his order. And something in the back of his mind was reminding him that he hadn't even thanked you, but the need to shake that uncomfortable feeling off his chest was more pressing, so he ignored it. “Bokuto is going to get nervous if he can’t harass you some more before we leave.

You maneuvered the tray to hold it in one hand and hit his shoulder with your free one.

“Sakusa-kun!” You said, the mirth in your eyes betraying your offended expression. “He’s not like that!”

A smile tugged at the corner of your lips. You genuinely seemed to enjoy Bokuto’s attention too, but you still took no real offense from Sakusa’s joke.

“Ah, no?” Sakusa quipped. “My mistake.”

You were a nice person to talk to. Banter with you came easily, like you adapted to Sakusa’s sense of humor. Maybe he could thank you later.

Bokuto hogged you during dinner, and Miya and Hinata afterwards, when the five of you took a train to Miya’s apartment to play videogames. You lost to them by an abysmal margin, and it had all of you laughing hysterically. It had been very long since the last time Sakusa laughed so hard he ended up in tears. He really was glad you came tonight.

Much, much later, you and Sakusa said your goodbyes to Miya and the guys, and shared a cab home. You were practically falling asleep standing by then. He took care to make sure you safely got inside your building before telling the driver his own address, and it wasn't until he got home that he realized he'd completely forgotten to thank you. 

Shit, he thought. He'd gotten carried away. It wasn't like him.

thanks for reading!!

i made some changes from the ao3 version and i like this chapter a lot more now wehehehe

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