#this would be such a mess but it would be so fun

[cheqorb]

Sotto Voce.

Gaslighting everyone into believing you’re a really shit footballer because seeing people be impressed by your sheer lack of skill is more fun than being a genius.

FEAT. Bastard München ensemble

NOTES. uhhaua cross posted on ao3 (same user) but ajyway, thought this idea was funny and because of this lingering feeling of sadness i haha managed to Complete this?? Gosh im beside myself with worry!!

WORD COUNT. 2.2k

Isagi thinks he might be seeing things. Maybe all the relentless training in Blue Lock has finally caught up to him, leading him into a football-induced delirium, because he can’t quite comprehend what he’s looking at right now.

You’re moving across the field with a fluidity he’s only seen in pro-level players, doing tricks and turns he’s pretty sure aren’t even in his playbook. You glide past the defence, controlling the ball with a finesse that’s nearly supernatural — hell, he thinks even someone of Rin’s calibre would be breaking a sweat to try and keep up.

And you look bored while doing it. Eyes half-lidded, posture almost lazy, as if this is just another walk in the park and not you showing off world-class football technique.

Isagi’s mind races to make sense of this. You’d always been, well, normal to him.

Sometimes you’d play in a match, most other times you’d sit out on the sidelines. And he’s usually pretty sharp about these things, so it must’ve been because you just… didn’t stand out.

Yet here you are, pulling off flawless plays with little more than a mild yawn, as if winning against the top players here would barely register on your radar. Maybe it’s just luck, some freakish one-off, right?

… Nope. You just drilled another perfect goal into the top corner of the net.

He snaps out of his thoughts only when you suddenly stop mid-play, and his eyes meet yours. For a second, there’s a flicker of panic in your gaze and he opens his mouth, not even sure what he’s about to say.

“Y/N-”

You’re stomping towards him before he can even process the whole thing, your pace quicker and more full of menace than he’s used to seeing on you. You stop just short of him, tilt your head slightly, and in the calmest voice, say, “You saw nothing.”

He tries to stammer out something, but you leave soon afterwards.

────

Tripping over the ball is harder than it looks, but after enough practice, you’ve perfected the art of falling in a normal fashion. To most people, it’s convincing. Prior to a few days ago, you’d say all people but there’s a certain someone who entertains himself by boring holes into the back of your skull with an intense, unblinking stare.

You can feel it. Isagi waiting for you to slip up.

Actually slip up, instead of the falls you’ve gotten so good at imitating. It’s detestable, honestly. You’re trying to keep things as they’ve always been, and he just wants to come in and mess with the status quo!

Luckily for you, Igaguri’s too much of an idiot to harbour the same suspicions. Right now he’s too busy practically doubling over with laughter on the floor. The guy is probably thrilled to finally see someone playing the fool even more than he does. And as much as he’s a pain, he’s also the kind of person who makes perfect cover — play the role of an idiot, laugh it off with him, and everyone’s none the wiser.

So, in spite of your (what most would call) vindictive description of him, you do believe that some sort of strange pleasure is to be gained from surrounding yourself with people like him. Though perhaps that also makes you a terrible person.

The feeling is nothing like the rationale that Noa preaches about so often. It’s an undeniable truth in your heart.

Which is why you avoid the people who actually know what they’re doing on the field like the plague.

Yukimiya, on the other hand, is way too polite to laugh outright. He at least has the common sense to stifle it, reaching out a hand to help you off the ground with a quiet charm that makes people swoon. No wonder he’s a model.

Now, the imaginary audience in your mind might be wondering why you’re talking with a guy like him? Your answer: he’s not as notable ever since he patched things up with Isagi. He’s now the kind of person you can talk to without raising any brows. Again, it sounds harsh but you see it in a positive light. He’s becoming just the kind of person you adore most!

“Try and keep a close eye for stuff on the ground, alright?”

You flash him a grin, nodding. “You know me, just a total klutz all the time,” you reply as your usual happy-go-lucky self, making sure to project just loud enough for Isagi to hear.

And out of the corner of your eye, you catch that familiar look of suspicion deepening.

────

The silence that follows is brutal. Hiori and Kurona exchange a look that’s way too long for Isagi’s comfort. After finishing whatever telepathic debate they have with each other, they both stare back at him like he’s just pitched the most psychotic theory imaginable (which isn’t entirely untrue).

“You don’t believe me, do you?” he mutters, deflating a bit.

Hiori’s quick to reply, but Isagi is aware of the faintest flicker of amusement in his eyes. “It’s not that we don’t believe you. But, ya have to admit, it’s strange to hear Y/N… of all people, doing something like that.”

That’s code for what the fuck are you talking about, Isagi concludes with a grimace, his eyes shifting to Kurona hopefully.

“Crazy. Crazy.”

Kurona’s tone is deadpan, his gaze distant as if he’s trying not to laugh. Great.

Isagi sighs heavily, scrubbing a hand over his face. Maybe he is the one who’s going crazy here. It shouldn’t even bother him this much. It’s not like you’re particularly close! If anything, he can barely remember a conversation between the two of you that went beyond asking if you’d seen so and so.

And, judging by the responses he’s getting from both of his teammates, neither of them can figure out why he’s fixated on this either.

────

Noa is going on and on about practice drills, how to follow his instructions precisely, something about rationality and technique, blah, blah, blah. You stifle a yawn. If this is what being in one of the top clubs means, you should’ve begged Ego to be in Barcha instead. At least Lavinho would’ve been fun.

You hear his coaching style isn’t by any means phenomenal if you’re trying to improve your skills, but good thing you’re not planning on doing anything of the sort!

And just when you think you might actually pass out from boredom, you see Isagi walking over. Again. He’s approaching with that same cautious look, but it’s not enough to make him think twice about bothering you apparently. That’s also something that bugs you, he’s never a quitter.

You flash him an oblivious smile. “Oh, Isagi! Whatcha up to? Need anything from little ol’ me?”

You lay it on thick, voice dripping with cheerful innocence. His jaw tightens, and for a second, you swear you can see a flicker of annoyance on his face. That’s new. Your words have the opposite effect than what you had originally intended.

“Listen, I know what I saw, alright? You’re not fooling anyone.”

He launches into a whole spiel about how he’s seen you pull off moves that only high-level players can pull off, how he doesn’t care if it’s part of some large game you’re playing, how you should be using your skill to distinguish yourself.

…You really don’t give a shit, and in regards to his comments, you personally disagree! What’s the fun in doing all of that?

You tilt your head, pretending to think it over with wide, guileless eyes. Sure, you’re a little flattered he’s this invested in uncovering your “secret,” but the other 99% of you is totally unhappy.

When he finally wraps up his little speech, you just give him a half-hearted shrug with a smugness that he doesn’t miss.

“And who’s going to believe you?”

────

Kaiser likes to think of Isagi as predictable, average — someone who might fancy himself a hero but is ultimately just another small-time player waiting to be crushed. It’s almost laughable how seriously he takes himself. In fact, the only thing remotely worth mentioning about him recently is this bizarre fixation he seems to have developed on you.

He’s overheard your exchanges, and in short, they’re pathetic.

Isagi rambles on about how you’re hiding something, clinging to that delusion like it’s going to benefit him somehow. The psychology-lover inside him finds it almost fascinating in how utterly absurd it sounds.

So, when Kaiser spots you chatting with the ever despairing Grim (laughing so hard you have to hold back tears), he figures it wouldn’t be wrong to call you at least a little insane. Part of him wonders what humour could be found in the man’s deplorable monologues.

He figures he might as well join in on the entertainment. You’re far from his usual company, but you’ll do. For now. Moseying on over, his signature smirk is already in place.

He’s rewarded by the way your eyes immediately narrow in irritation, a look he’s all too familiar with and thoroughly enjoys on anyone really. Grim, blissfully unaware of what he’s leaving you to, heads off, and now it’s just you and Kaiser.

Leaning in closer, he asks, “What little secret of yours has got under Yoichi’s skin so badly?”

Kaiser waits, watching for the faintest flicker of reaction but you stay silent. How boring.

But! Not one to give up easily, he continues with a more direct jab, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial tone. The one where he acts like he knows everything there is to know about everyone. “That you’re really skilled, and this whole clueless act of yours is just a cheap facade?”

He raises a brow, as if daring you to admit it. To his delight, you lift your head, finally meeting his gaze albeit with an uncomfortably polite smile.

“I was just surprised you’re interested in something like that. But, Isagi’s a total liar. Isn’t he just so annoying? I can’t stand people who just don’t know when to give up, and I’m sure you agree.”

It’s not often someone catches him off-guard, and though he recovers quickly, the flicker of surprise is still there. Kaiser also sees opportunity however. He could work with this.

“Well, if you’re not a fan of Yoichi then feel free to join my side then,” he drawls, offering the position like it’s a dream come true. In his world, he’s already the star; what better way to elevate himself than to recruit someone.

“Ah, no. You’re both terrible.”

He can’t tell what’s worse; you lumping him together with Isagi, or the fact that you immediately walk off without giving him a chance to get the last word in.

────

“It’s like asking me if I prefer cat shit or dog shit. It’s still shit, and there’s no point in picking one over the other.”

You toss the comparison out to Kiyora, of all people — a bit of a waste since he just stares blankly at you, not saying a word. Pretty cute, actually, in a clueless sort of way.

The reality is that, at the moment, if you want a shot at the regulars, you’re supposed to cosy up to either Isagi or Kaiser. And as for everyone else? They’re can either fuck off or pray for a miracle.

Of course, you couldn’t care less about making the regulars. But every now and then, you forget there are people around you who do care, people with actual ambitions. Which is why you pause when you catch sight of Hiori and Kurona.

“Oh, Hiori and Kurona,” you point out the obvious.

They both glance your way, casual and relaxed, which gives you the impression that Isagi hasn’t roped them into his latest paranoid theories. Yet.

“Are ya heading back to training already?” Hiori asks, his soft voice and accent making it sound more like an invitation than a question. There’s a kindness to it that’s almost unsettling here in Blue Lock, but you return his smile with one of your own nevertheless.

Kiyora gives a small nod. “Yeah,” he says, brief and to the point.

You’re half-considering some excuse to slip away and do your own thing, but there’s something about the way Hiori is looking at you that draws your attention. Unlike Isagi, he’s way better at hiding it, but you can still feel his curiosity prickle under your skin.

You give him a lazy smile, leaning into the idea. “I’m already so tired from this morning’s training,” you lie, exaggerating just enough. “Honestly, going to bed early sounds great right about now.”

Morning training was barely enough to get you sweating, just a couple of warm-up drills for the afternoon matches. You doubt they have any clue what you’re talking about, which is exactly how you want it.

There’s a quiet pause, and then Hiori breaks it with a gentle but firm nudge. “Well, if yer looking to get on the regulars consistently, training more could be worth a shot.”

You force a smile that probably looks more akin to a grimace. This is exactly why you don’t like smart people. They poke and prod until your story frays at the edges. He definitely asked that on purpose! With a heavy sigh, you end up walking with them toward the pitch, despite every nerve in you screaming to veer off.

You can’t help but wonder if this is a test.

[celuere]

Something something about Arle being 24/7 strapped up underneath her pants in case she needs to take care of you…….

NSFW utc, mdni (public cockwarming, sesbian office lex)

Visiting her in her office to drop off some documents when you’re day has been nothing but shit? Take a seat on her lap. She gently taps the zipper of her pants to signal you to take a look at whatever surprise is waiting underneath the fabric but you can already tell by the shape of it through her pants.

„Doll, I‘m not wearing this for fun. Get moving.“, she’d tell you as she slightly readjusts her hips and you knew very well that’s it‘s either riding her in this chair or you being tossed onto the desk with the strap-on rutting into your poor cunt. So you settled for the first option.

Of course, a subordinate would knock at the door while you were soaking her pants with your juices, but like she’d ever care. She would only press you down all the way onto the toy as she -very unkindly- orders the poor guard away. „Important business“ she‘d say. Yes, fucking her pretty wife dumb and weak in the early afternoon certainly is very important.

The office wouldn’t be the only place she‘d wear it too. Nobody would suspect you cockwarming her underneath her coat in broad daylight during a lively charity event of the Fatui, no? Hand on your hip, even talking and handling our deals with the other businesspeople at the table while the only thing you can focus on is not giving away that you are sitting on 7 inches while the other hand that’s hidden underneath her big, fluffy coat is rubbing teasing circles over your swollen clit. Or how she shifts on her seat way more often than usual which drives you insane anytime.

„Sois une bonne fille et reste silencieuse.“

„Be a good girl and keep quiet.“

Acting a little too friendly with a businesswoman for her liking? A small glance of her eyes down to the floor is enough to remind you that she is prepared for proper measures. You also know that she‘d excuse the both of you just so she could drag you into an empty hallway outside the ballroom so she can fuck the living daylights out of you until you don’t even know where left and right is. Hearing steps that are nearing? Arle would press her blackened hand onto your mouth as she angles her hips to hit your tortured sweet spot with every. single. thrust while the strangers are passing by, oblivious to how the Knave is taking her wife like an animal in heat. That woman wouldn’t stop until you can barely hold yourself up, fluids dripping down your inner thighs, your hair that you spent an hour on completely messed up, your neck being stained with her lipstick. Mother of god, how much she hates the fact that she cannot get you pregnant. It drives her mad.

Life has never been fair to her.

Except for you of course.

[dollyichi]

STAR PLAYER’S TYPE : ITOSHI RIN . . . m—dni. / f ! reader / mentions of wounds / marking / somno / university au [ you’re part of the school’s paper club ! ] / your relationship is a mess / not proofread

itoshi rin, university heartthrob, was asked by the school paper about his type. “this is for our sports segment! please help us out.”

he clicks his teeth, “what? my goals aren’t interesting enough for you?”

“no- no! it’s just a little profile we’re making for the whole team.” the poor writer was clearly intimidated, but he asks the question again.

uninterested and snarky he’d say “a girl with a cut on her lip from biting down so hard.”

“huh?” was all they thought. the journalist is really confused. what exactly is he talking about? “that’s… oddly specific but isn’t that a bit sadistic?”

“i like details.” and he couldn’t help but grin at your perfect timing. you’re wearing his hoodie and a mask. taking photos of the other players on the field during their practice.

he calls for you to come closer, having a hand out for you. you take it, letting the camera rest on the straps around your wrist. you’re startled when rin pulls you closer. a hand on your waist. “see this?” he says while pulling down your mask.

you wince, the mask slightly hitting your lips. and there on display, was your bottom lip with a cut that bled slightly from the contact.

“oh my god y/n? are you alright what happened?” the removal of your mask further showed the dark circles under your eyes.

you look exhausted.

“i bit it too hard.” you say pulling up the mask to hide it back. clearing your throat and licking the wound to ease the pain. rin was grinning to himself and the poor writer just didn’t know what was going on he was just given a list of questions to fill, but he’s witnessing… some sort of tension?

how’d you even get close to him?

“wait till you see once i pull down her hood.” you shriek and leave immediately, running away. “well that’s my cue to leave.”

“itoshi wait! a-are you sure you want this on the school paper?”

“does it look like i give a fuck?” he glares at them before chasing after you with his backpack in one hand.

the next day you decided not to wear the mask since it healed a bit better. placing the newly developed photos on the desk in your club room. “woah y/n what happened to your lip?” your president asks.

you sigh, “i bit too hard.” before the president could even ask you why, the conversation shifts.

“really?” the main editor chuckles. “then apparently you’re rin’s type.”

“ha? what the fuck are you-“ they hand you the newly printed out issue. in a big bold font that says ‘star player itoshi rin’s type!’ and you had to squint to see the answer. causing your hands to tremble while you gave it back to them. “hah…” was all you could say, before you sunk on your seat.

“i guess i need another mask.”

bonus: early morning fun <3

“mmph! fuck r-rin…” it was too early for this. you ended up falling asleep when rin invited you over to hang out. you didn’t expect to be woken up with him fucking you—not that you mind, but you weren’t a morning person to begin with.

your eyes are rolling to the back of your head. it was just too much. your back was against his chest as you lay on your side. his right hand on your waist to hold your body while he thrusted deeper into you.

you didn’t know what you would call this relationship. sometimes he’d be cold, sometimes he’d be playful, sometimes he’d be so nice that you could melt. and then you’d fuck, no matter what.

sometimes you hoped he would just admit it. sometimes you hoped this relationship actually was ‘something.’

then he’s back at it again, it was just too early. your voice was already hoarse from last night. and for sure the neighbors would all be awake.

he couldn’t help it though. waking up to you snuggled up to him so close, touched that you let him hold you all night. and then he’s see your thighs together, how there were visible marks that he left from last night.

it caused shivers down his spine that forced his body to move on his own against the pretty, defenseless you.

rin’s got your arms pinned towards him. you couldn’t move, couldn’t escape, letting him fuck you more relentlessly. you tried your best not to let even a whimper out. with the little self awareness you still have, all you could do was bite down on your bottom lip. hard enough to draw blood.

broken mewls and suppressed moans just kept him going, thrusting faster and faster. “a bit more…” he whispers, kissing at the back of your neck.

when it was over he turns you on your back, immediately seeing the mark on your lips. “you bit down again.” rin pouts before kissing the corners of his mouth.

you chuckle. “got nothing to shut me up.”

“just bite me instead of hurting yourself.”

he helps you to the bathroom so you could get ready for classes. “are you a monster or something? what the hell…” you say, tilting your head from side to side. the marks he left on you on full display. rin says nothing, holding you close. softly running his fingers on the marks on your neck. “i don’t have my concealer.” you groan. rin had his eyes on you the entire time through the mirror while you’re mentally panicking. you’re just hoping it wouldn’t be too hot outside to wear a hoodie.

you turn around to face him, asking if you could borrow one his jackets until you looked down deadpanned.

“you’re hard again.”

do not copy, plagiarize, translate, or repost my works

note : i need more of this au. school photographer reader who’s always forced to take the photos of her university’s center forward because he make sure he grabs her attention… oh!!!

[witchyvibes91]

Behind the Mask | Tom Riddle

Summary: Tom hates you. Well, he hates how attracted he is to you. And that attraction is deeply explored at a masquerade ball one lust-filled night.

TW: 18+, mdni, chars 18+, smut, rough sex, blindfolding, dom and sub, biting, PIV, f!masterbation, choking

Word count: 4.1k

Animosity.

Perhaps that was the only word to describe the relationship between you and Tom Riddle. The two of you had hated one another for as long as you could remember. He was too charming, too manipulative. And you? You were just another mudblood, or so he called you. 

The best thing that happened to you was graduating from Hogwarts. You no longer had to see Tom–or so you thought. It was exactly three years later when you wandered into Borgin and Burkes. 

Borgin and Burkes was not exactly your normal place to shop but this afternoon you were required to go for your boss. He had encountered a dark magic object, a book he didn’t want in his bookshop. You, desperately needing work, were not exactly in a position to say no.

You walked into the store expecting to get rid of the book quickly and leave but there he was. Tom Riddle. He was still handsome as ever but God, the hatred. It was strong. You thought, perhaps, you were over it but just the sight of him brought it all back. 

“I’m sorry, we don’t serve mudbloods here,” Tom said immediately at the sight of you. The hatred was still there for him as well. You slammed the book on the table and turned to walk out without a single word.

You’d take whatever money you had saved up and give it to your boss yourself. You couldn’t even stand being in the same room as Tom for more than a minute. 

Two weeks later, you were getting ready for a masquerade ball of a close friend of yours. You needed this. Desperately. Time away, drinks with friends. It was supposed to be fun. And it would be. Oh, it would be so incredibly fun. 

“Can you just drop it already?” Your friend asked as the two of you finished up your make-up. You had been going on about the meeting with Tom yet again. It was still bothering you. There was just something about seeing him again that brought up a stir of feelings inside of you.

“He called me a mudblood!” You shouted back as your hands messed with your hair. Your friend had enough. She stood up, smoothing down her dress before shrugging her shoulders.

“Like he hasn’t before? Come on. Let’s just forget about Tom and go have fun.” She held her hand out, waiting for you to take it. 

You thought about not going. You thought about giving up on it all and just heading home. But it was a masquerade ball celebrating the turn of the season. And you were never one to turn down fun. You took her hand and walked down to the party, letting go for a moment so you could tie on your mask.

There were plenty of people at this party, more than there should have been. Word got out and everyone started inviting this friend and that one. Strangers brushed past you dressed in various forms of masks. Some were more covered than others. Some were completely unrecognizable. Anyone could be here. And anyone was here.

Tom Riddle had spent the last two weeks thinking of you. The sight of you walking into that shop was one he never imagined he’d see but fuck, he couldn’t get it out of his mind. Tom had always hated you, of course, but it wasn’t a deep-seated hatred. It was a hatred that stemmed from his unusual desires for you. He hated how much he wanted you. He hated how fucking attractive you were. 

There were rumors of a party, a big one. Tom had heard of a few professors that would be there from Hogwarts. He was desperately trying to get the Defense Against the Dark Arts teaching position and saw this as an opportunity to try and weasel some schmooze in. Maybe a few would put a good word in for him but he had to go about it carefully–as he did with everything in his life.

Tom was a meticulous person. Nothing he did was spontaneous. Everything was carefully, planned out. There were intentions behind every action, ill-willed or not. Spontaneity was not his specialty. 

He walked into the party wearing a mask. Nothing special for the occasion but, years from now, that mask would be so well known to the community. It would be a mask that sparked fear and traitours behaviors; however, tonight it was just a mask for Tom to hide behind while he stalked out his prey. 

You were a few drinks in by the time Tom arrived. You weren’t completely drunk but inhibitions were lowered. You were laughing with your friends when one of them pointed out a masked man standing in the corner. The mask seemed to be staring right at you. 

You brushed it off–surely he wasn’t staring at you. There were hundreds of people at this party. He could be staring at anyone. As the night went on, however, you noticed how the masked man kept popping up here and there. Across the dance floor as you danced. On the opposite side of the bar when you got drinks. He seemed to be everywhere.

Tom was searching for professors, looking for people he could convince to get him the job he desired when he suddenly saw you. Your hair, your tight little dress. It was driving Tom mad. All that talk of him being meticulous and planned out, all of it went out the window the second he saw you. 

He could do nothing but watch you. Were you here with someone? A man? If so, who? Who could fuck you better than Tom Riddle could? 

Fuck.

Tom hated himself for thinking that but he hated that he wanted to prove that thought to you even more. He stalked you most of the night before finally noticing you moving up some stairs. Again, Tom was never a spontaneous person. Everything he did was thought out. Everything. 

Tonight, though. Tonight was an exception. You were an exception. 

Tom followed up the stairs, half-expecting to lose you, when he finally saw you standing at the entrance of what looked to be a bedroom. While Tom was being spontaneous, you had planned this out. If this masked man was truly following you, you wanted to see the lengths he would go.

“Can’t get enough of me, can you?” You asked teasingly as you stood in the doorway. Your voice had a slight drunken giggle to it. Tom was annoyed by your cockiness, your forwardness. He simply nodded his head in the mask as he walked forward a bit.

“Cat got your tongue?” You asked again, realizing how silly you sounded. You wanted to curse yourself under your breath but the masked man's hands were suddenly on your waist, pushing you into the room.

There was hardly time to talk, to think. The door shut behind the two of you and you heard the lock clicking without hands being used. Whoever this man was, he was a skilled wizard, and for some reason, that turned you on even more.

“What are you going to do to me?” You squeaked out meekly. Tom said nothing as he continued walking forward until you were pressed up against the edge of the bed. Your knees were forced to bend at the bedframe and your bottom fell onto the mattress.

Tom stared down at you, tilting his head slightly as his piercing dark eyes peered at you from behind the mask. The eyes almost looked familiar to you, but you couldn’t place it. Your hands rested on the edge of the bed as you looked up at the mystery man.

“Nothing.” Tom finally spoke, changing his voice to a lower tone. He hoped the familiarity of it would slip your mind and it did. You had no idea who this man was but he was exciting you.

Tom leaned down just a touch as he grabbed your wrist. He moved your hand between your legs and forced them open. He pushed your hand until it was up against your warm and wet core.

“You’re going to do it to yourself.” He demanded as he took a few steps back. You kept your hand on the spot where he left it, frozen from the demand. Tom crossed his arms over his chest, still staring at you through that damned mask. 

“Open.” He spoke coldly, your legs immediately spreading open. You weren’t sure if it was your decision or his magic but either way, you opened. You leaned back just a touch, pulling up the skirt of your dress so he could get the full show. Your hand started to do circles over the material of your soaked panties.

Little moans escaped your lips before you pulled your panties to the side, pressing your fingers between your wet slit. You were soaked, feeling nothing but pleasure from the intensity of the situation. 

Tom watched as you locked eyes with him from across the room. He could see the pleasure growing on your face, your fingers moving faster. It felt good. Too fucking good.

You didn't know it but you were currently touching yourself to the man you hated most in this world. A type of degradation without words–the mystery of it driving Tom more insane than the act itself.

“Faster,” Tom demanded and you did exactly as he said. Your fingers circled faster, little circles enlarging that already swollen clit of yours. Tom’s cock was hard, pressing against his pants. Nothing ever turned him on but you? Fuck. You did insane things to him and his length. 

It was taking everything in him to not touch himself as well. Your fingers started to move faster as you fell back a bit on one elbow. Your moans were growing, your legs shaking. Tom could tell you were getting closer to that perfect release.

But you wouldn’t finish. No. He wasn’t about to let you feel that pleasure so soon. He looked at your hand and, without using his voice, the word stop echoed through your mind. Your hand immediately stopped and your eyes widened. What the fuck was that?

He took a few steps closer and your heart was beating hard against your chest. What was he going to do? The unknown of this entire situation only makes this moment hotter. You peered at him through your dainty little mask before he stood right between your legs.

His hand reached up and untied your mask and revealed your face. There it was. The face he hated to desire. The face he hated to think about. The face he hated to dream of. It was his most hated face and yet the one he couldn’t seem to get out of his mind. Tom absolutely loathed how much he thought of your face. Your lips. Your throat. 

No words were said. You were frozen, unable to speak. Tom was just trying to make sure you didn’t know who he was. He reached his hand up, his thumb dragging down your bottom lip as he watched your chest rise and fall from the heavy breathing.

“Perfect.” He whispered, not even meaning to. He meant to keep that thought in his mind but it slipped out in spoken word. And now you knew how he really felt. This complete stranger found you to be perfect. Maybe it was all the drinks you had but this felt exhilarating, intoxicating. 

As Tom’s thumb slid off of your lip, he moved to his pointer finger. It traced your jawline before moving down the side of your neck. He didn’t stop. He traced every inch of you as if he were making a map of your body and all the places he was going to devour. 

“Wh-what do you want?” You finally managed to ask, wondering why he stopped you from finishing. Was he going to fuck you? You wanted him to. This absolute stranger. You reached up for his mask and he quickly grabbed your wrist with a force that frightened you. 

“Don’t,” Tom demanded in that same low tone he had been using. His grip seemed to tighten around your wrist and your desires started to turn to fear for a second. What the fuck were you doing? This was someone unknown to you, or so you thought. He could do anything to you. Maybe this was a bad idea.

“I-I’m sorry.” You stumbled on your words and Tom was enjoying seeing you so scared, so timid. A smirk was growing under his mask as your eyes stared up at him with fear. There was something so insatiable about this, having total control over you and your body. 

“Do you want this?” Tom asked through a low tone, his muffled voice barely escaping his mask. Your mind was racing with thoughts. Did you want this? You nodded your head without truly thinking about what he was asking.

“Are you sure?” Tom asked once more as he started to lay you back on the bed. He grabbed your other hand, pinning it above your head, and hovered over you. “Because once I start, I’m not going to stop.” 

The words sent a shiver down your spine. This was your chance. If you didn’t want this, truly didn’t want it, you just had to say the word and he would let you go. 

“I want this.” 

Fuck. 

That was it. You were in for it. There was no turning back now. You were about to be destroyed in this random bed by this random person and, honestly? You were excited for it. 

Tom didn’t need to hear anymore. He flicked his finger at your dress and it instantly unbuttoned. How the hell was he so good at this? The more of your body that was exposed, the stronger the fire grew inside of him. 

You were quickly becoming the oxygen he needed to breathe. As much as he hated you, he really fucking needed you. He ripped off his shirt and that’s when you saw just how toned his body was. You reached up and traced his abs for a moment as you noticed how heavily he was breathing. 

You wanted to taste him, to feel his lips on yours but he wouldn’t take off that damned mask. He let your hands travel to his belt and you slowly started to undo it. Every movement felt like a pause in time. It was as if time ceased to exist in this other world you were living in. 

His pants slid down and his length bulged out of his underwear. Your eyes widened at the sight of it. He was big. No. Not big. Enormous. No wonder he could be so demanding. 

Tom kept his mask in place while his hands ran through your hair. It wasn’t in a loving sense, or even a longing sense. It seemed to be in a sense that said ‘I can’t believe I’m about to fucking destroy you’ and that, more than anything, turned you on.

“What are you going to do to me?” You managed to ask, in a timid and shaking voice. That confidence you had? Gone. You wanted this–gods you wanted this–but you felt so incredibly submissive to this undisclosed man. There was no challenging him and you both knew that.

“The question should be…” Tom started to say in that deep and low tone as he reached for his tie that was lying with his shirt. He pulled it up over your eyes, tying it around you so that you could see nothing before dropping his lips to your ear and whispering, “...what am I not going to do to you, darling?” 

This. Fucking. Man.

Now with your eyes covered, he could finally remove his mask. And he did. His eyes took in all of you, your naked body lying on the bed. The blindfold over your face. The position of you, so submissive and wanting. He hated it. No, he hated how much it turned him on.

He moved his lips to yours and hovered just for a moment before pressing them together. You tasted fucking heavenly, something that only pissed him off more. Why did you have to be so damn perfect? His tongue swirled with yours and you let out soft little moans which only caused his cock to twitch. 

Tom moved his lips to your neck, biting as he did. There would be marks but that was Tom’s plan. He wanted you to see them. He wanted you to wonder who was putting their teeth into your skin. He wanted you to inadvertently think of him every time you saw those little marks. And he was going to put them over your entire body.

His teeth traveled down to your hardened nipples, biting them with a roughness that made you gasp. You weren’t expecting such a thrilling sensation, pain, and pleasure to mix so well together. 

“W-wait!” You started to say as he bit your other nipple, surely leaving marks everywhere. Your hands went for your blindfold and Tom quickly grabbed your hands. He pinned them together, quickly whispering a spell to tie them with rope. Your heart was racing, your mind rushing with thoughts.

“You agreed to this and I told you, once I start I’m not stopping,” Tom growled in that low tone that was starting to sound a little more familiar. You still had no idea who this was but it had to be someone you knew. The way they were treating you? It was someone you knew.

With your hands now tied, you had no control. This man, this mysterious figure, he had complete and total power over your body. And you loved it. You absolutely fucking loved it.

Tom moved further down your body, licking here and biting there. He made it to your thighs and pushed them apart. His teeth dug into your skin, leaving more marks on your inner thigh. Would you touch yourself the next time you saw these marks? Fuck. Tom hoped you would. He really fucking did. 

“P-please…” You begged, whimpered. A smirk grew on Tom’s face as he heard your little voice. The fact he had your body squirming under his touch only made his cock ache more for you. 

“Please, what? Use your fucking words.” He demanded and god, that voice. It was so familiar. It sent a pit into your stomach, your heart beating against your chest with an aching feeling. There was something so known about it and yet you had no idea who this was. 

“Please...the biting…” Your voice escaped your lips with the softest sound. Tom was getting annoyed. Annoyed that this turned him on, annoyed that you weren’t being more clear. 

He bit down onto your thigh a bit rougher this time, his darkened eyes glaring into your face as he did. He saw the shocked look, the mix of pleasure and pain, the way your body squirmed and writhed with pleasure. You liked this. No, you fucking loved this. 

“Stop!” You finally shouted, loud and echoing off the walls. Tom sat up and was impressed by your sudden demanding tone. He looked down at your slit and slowly ran a finger through it. You were soaked. 

“You’re saying stop and yet…” he moved his fingers up to your lips, tracing them over your mouth until you opened up, “...you seem to enjoy it.” 

His fingers slipped into your mouth until you tasted the cold metal of a ring. It was large. There was some sort of emblem on it but his finger was out of your throat faster than you could make out what it was. 

“Tell me you enjoy this,” Tom whispered as he watched his finger drag out of your mouth. Your body was shivering underneath him. So exposed. So open, vulnerable. 

“I like it. Love it. I-I want more.” You spoke with a shuddered breath. Tom sat you up and slipped behind you. He opened his knees while holding you in front of him so that you both faced the same direction. Your legs slipped between his and it wasn’t long before you felt his length teasing your entrance.

His pre-cum soaked tip was aching for you, craving you. He wrapped his arm around your waist, holding your body tightly against his before slamming his cock deep into you. The second he did, his eyes rolled back into his head.

That had never happened before.

He started to thrust, opening his eyes only to see the two of you in the mirror across the wall. He watched as your face gave away the amount of pleasure you were in. The blindfold was tight across your eyes but–fuck–the sensations you were feeling were otherworldly.

“F-fuck! You–fuck–you feel amazing!” You moaned as Tom’s cock pressed deeper and deeper into you. He started thrusting harder, his teeth sinking into your shoulder for a moment. Another mark. Another giveaway that he had destroyed your perfect body. 

“Praise me.” He groaned into your ear as he continued thrusting. He reached his free hand up, wrapping it around your throat as he watched the way your tits bounced with each thrust in the mirror. You were a mess. And Tom fucking loved it. He loved how much he had ruined you at that moment. And he was only just starting.

“You're so big! S-so good! I–fuck–I c-can barely take it!” You praised as you were told. Your hands were still tied together, sitting in front of you as Tom watched the way your body moved with ecstasy in the mirror. 

He could feel his orgasm getting closer. Tom had fucked before, of course he did. But this? This was so different. It was like a whole new experience all together. He had never felt himself wanting to finish so quickly. It drove him insane.

His hand wrapped tighter around your throat, squeezing it until you could hardly breathe. He thrust a few more times before pulling out and pushing you down onto the bed so that you were on all fours.

Tom slapped both hands onto your ass, more marks. More territory was claimed. You held your hands out in front of you as your face pushed into the bed. Tom raised your hips before sliding back into you. 

“I’m going to count to three and you’re going to finish,” Tom demanded after thrusting a few times. Could you even do that? Cum on demand? You were about to find out. 

“One..” 

He pushed deeper into you, pulling your hips higher so that he was hitting every perfect little spot in your body.

“Two…” 

That voice. That fucking voice. God, you knew it. You knew you knew it. And for a second, a split second, you thought of him. Tom. No. It couldn’t be. Could it? 

“Three…” 

The second you thought of Tom, the second his face flashed across your mind, you finished with the heaviest orgasm you had ever experienced. You squirted, something you had never done before, letting juices coat his length and stroll down your legs. 

The sight of it, the sight of how fucking messy you were, it was enough to make Tom finish as well. He slipped out of you and stroked his length until he spread his seed all down your back and your ass. 

As you collapsed onto the bed, you went to pull off the makeshift blindfold but your hands wouldn’t move. Why weren’t they moving? 

“Can you take these off of me?” You asked but no response. You heard a door shut and suddenly, you could move. You ripped the blindfold off along with the ropes and looked around the room. You were alone. Was this some insane fever dream? 

You quickly looked down at your body, seeing how naked you were. You glanced up into the mirror and that’s when you saw them, the bites. They covered your body. The marks were everywhere. The softest little smile grew on your face as you watched yourself.

Tom, meanwhile, was already slipping out of the party. He hadn’t accomplished what he wanted while there but what he got was so much better. He got you. He destroyed you. He marked you. And fuck. That was all he needed.

You went home that night and fell into the bed, slowly pulling the tie out of your pocket that the man had left behind. You couldn’t get the thought of everything out of your mind. Who was he? And why was that the best sex you had ever had? Your mind went back to Tom but surely it wasn’t him. Was it? 

Your fingers were tracing over the tie, your mind racing with thoughts. And that’s when you saw it–the initials that made your stomach drop. TMR.

[eddiazx]

juno - evan buckley x reader

You had bought it as a joke. 

You and your friend had decided to go inside the inconspicuous-looking sex shop for fun, and she had dared you to buy the fuzzy pink handcuffs. You, not one to back down from a challenge, grabbed them and paid for them with your head held high. It wasn’t supposed to see the light of day; you had thought it would collect dust in your closet for months. 

So to see them dangling from Buck’s fingers, paired with a smirk on his face, was not what you had expected to see when you walked into your shared apartment.

“What’s this, babe?” Buck, ever the shit-stirrer, asks.

“‘S nothing”, you mumble, trying to grab it from Buck, but he raises it high so you can’t reach. 

“Do you wanna try it out tonight?” Buck then questions genuinely, looking deep in your eyes to gauge your interest.

You nod slowly but surely, because you can already feel your body react at the thought of using them with Buck.

“On me or on you?” 

You bite your lip and respond hoarsely, “on you, if you’re okay with that.” 

“I’m very okay with that.” Buck grins cheekily.

Which brings you to right now: Buck naked, both hands cuffed and resting over his head on his king-sized bed. You’re straddling him, riding him, and Buck is a whimpering mess. Not being able to hold onto you, whether it was your hips, your thighs, or your breasts, was sweet torture for him.

You switch your angle by digging your knees into the mattress, resting your hands on Buck's chest before lifting and slamming back down. Both of you come almost simultaneously with this new position, and Buck as usual, comes a lot. It slowly seeps out of you from the sheer volume, and both of you stare at it, stare at where the two of you are still joined, transfixed.

Just as you're about to dismount and uncuff him, Buck interrupts you.

"Sit on my face, babe. I want to taste how good we are together."

God bless those fuzzy pink handcuffs.

[minimomoe]

How to Train your Demon

Pairing: trueform! Sukuna x Fem Reader

Summary: Life has all kinds of wins and losses. You don't know which category to put your new demon husband in though.

Tags: MDNI!, red string of fate trope, true form sukuna, librarian reader, soul mates, reincarnation, accidental summoning, love at first sight (but it's one-sided (until it's not)), Sukuna is demon, but he's v much in love, smut and stuff eventually i guess....

AN: smut in this chapter!! p in v sex, some fun with hand mouths, oral (fem receiving), Sukuna may or may not have a praise kink. also blood drinking it isn't a part of smut (just walk with me)

Part: I. II. III. IV. V. VI. VII. VIII. IX. X. XI. XII

Revisit rule: "Never Leave Him Unattended"?

“Yeah, I’m not feeling too well. My foot is killing me way more than before and I think I’m coming down with something.”

A barely concealed moan left your lips that you covered up by clearing your throat. You glared at Sukuna who was stuck on your back like a koala bear. You were laying naked in bed, limbs upon limbs tangled up in the sheets, his hands roaming over all the planes of your body. He tweaked your nipples while other hands dipped into your sex, making it impossible for you to stay on the phone with a steady voice. 

“I will make sure to stop by the ho–hospital today,” you shuddered. Sukuna made good use of his hands, and last night you learned of one of his many quirks. One of them being the mini mouths which appear in his palms that have been tormenting you if his mouth on his face was preoccupied. You took deep breaths in to control the mounting wave of arousal building up as he toyed with your clit.  “I’ll try to come in tomorrow. Thanks for underssstanding.” After wincing at the sound of your squeaking voice at the end of your sentence, you practically threw your phone across the room once you hung up. 

“Sukuna please,” you whined.

“If you wanted me to stop you would have used your fists,” he smirked. He rolled you over until you laid beneath him, his arms caging you in with nowhere to hide. On his arms and the tops of his shoulders you saw faint bite marks and scratches that you had left behind. You lost count of how many times you went at it last night. The soreness aching in your bones signalled that maybe you had overexerted yourself, but seeing Sukuna’s eyes roll back when you took him in your mouth only spurred you on, and he wasn’t satisfied until you were a breathless, boneless mess, so you found yourself wrapped up in each other until the wee morning hours.

“Now watch carefully,” he purred at the apex of your thighs. He bit into your flesh, not softly but with real teeth and tug that made you hiss. You were going to reprimand him— maybe finally give him that knuckle sandwich he was begging for earlier— but he shoved his face into your cunt and lapped you up with a reverence that had your complaints melt out of your brain. Your legs crushed the sides of his head, so Sukuna pried your thighs open and kept them wide, pushing them as far as they could on the bed. His other hands were busy marking you up once again, whether it be with his nails or the tongues that he could make appear in his palms that sucked on your skin until you were shivering. 

“Fuck– that feels so good. Just like that, baby.”

You were too busy with your mouth hanging wide as you writhed around in the sheets to see Sukuna’s eyes widened at your words. Your praise did wonders for his already large ego, and in no time he lifted you up to the heavens and back with his name screaming on your tongue. When he climbed up your body to fuck you once more, Sukuna held your chin and licked up the side of your face to catch the tears that were streaming down. In one swift motion he pushed inside of you, still holding your face to force eye contact. It was intense and all consuming, almost too intimate like he wasn’t deep seated inside of your cunt. 

“Why are you staring?” You nervously laughed. Despite the molten pool of arousal building up in your lower half, you couldn’t help but to tease your lover. “‘Baby’ is all it takes to get you blushing like that?” 

You hooked your leg around his wide waist, raising your hips to his rhythm and matching his thrusts. The bed squeaked dangerously underneath your motion. Sukuna’s arm steadied himself right next to your hair, and you turned your head to kiss his wrist with a mischievous smile. “Or would you rather Your Highness?”

You were driving the demon wild. He quickly cuffed the back of your leg to perch on your shoulder, reaching a new depth inside of you. Your eyes rolled back into your head and Sukuna latched onto your shoulder with his teeth. 

“Stop talking,” he growled. Sukuna could barely hold it together. You were gripping him like your life depended on it. He couldn’t last much longer with all your teasing and still you giggled. 

“Are you gonna make me?” 

His hand slid down and rested heavy on your neck. You grinned, your hand laying on top of his, matching his movements. 

“What a brat,” he gritted out, but he loved it. Whether it was audacity or confidence, you had it all. Sukuna reveled in it as he brought you over the edge, your orgasm sucking him in deeper, allowing him to bury himself in you. With a sharp kiss he finished inside of you, but you melted all the same. Even with all his edges, the gentle undercurrent couldn’t be ignored. You coaxed Sukuna to lay on top of you like a weighted blanket to bask in the afterglow. As you combed through his hair with your finger you laughed to yourself. The noise made him look at you with a raised brow. 

“I’m just happy that you found me. That’s all.” 

Sukuna gazed at you intensely. Heat began to prick at your face once again, but he spoke before you could crack a joke to lighten the mood. 

“You are not allowed to leave me again,” he said very seriously. You smiled softly and cupped the side of his face. 

“I doubt I had any say in the matter the first time,” you laughed. “But I can promise that I’m not going anywhere. This time you’re stuck with me.”

It was a promise. Despite the curve of your lips you truly meant the words coming out of your mouth. The start of your relationship didn’t make sense, and there were many logistics that needed to be sorted out later, but as of right now, you knew that you wanted to make this work with Sukuna. You had a feeling that everything would fall into place. 

Sukuna laid his cheek back on your bare chest. His deep voice rumbled through your body in a way that reminded you of Cleo’s purring. 

“Sleep. You will need energy for the ceremony.”

The idea of genuine rest coming finally within reach made your eyelids droop. You wanted to fight the sleepiness off but it was futile. The last thing you remembered before going under was a soft kiss pressed into your palm. 

~*~

You were gently woken up by the feeling of Cleo’s whiskers tickling your face. She gently pawed at your nose, then waited for you to sit up. Beside her you spotted black robes carefully placed at the end of your bed and you blinked. 

“I guess I’m supposed to put this on,” you muttered. The material was thick and soft. Cleo meowed and jumped off of the bed, going to who knows where. You stood up and slipped the garments on. It didn’t swallow your entire frame as you expected, and there were ties to cinch in your waist. The dress was made for you.  

As you were putting on the last piece of the ensemble, a veil that stopped middle of your chest, a soft knock came from your closed door. 

“Come in!”

Uraume scuffled inside, glad to see that you were already dressed. You did a quick twirl for them with a smile.  “How do I look?”

“The stars pale in comparison, ma’am,” they said with a tug on their lips. 

“You flatter me too much,” you gushed. “I guess it’s time to get this show on the road. What do I have to do?”

“Everything else has been taken care of. Please follow me.”

Uruame took you outside to your backyard and you realized it was much later in the day than you had thought. The sky was a bright pink with streaks of orange clouds cutting through the horizon. Sukuna stood at the other side of your yard in a kimono that was in the same colored garbs you were in, the dark reds and blacks flowing around his physique. All his eyes watched you intently and your heart rate quickened. With your hands held together in front of you, you carefully walked behind Uraume down to where Sukuna was, trying hard not to trip because of the fabric that swished at your ankles. When you stood across from Sukuna you, a small table with an obsidian bowl and a dagger laid inside separated you. 

Uraume wasted no time getting started once you had stopped moving. They held the book that started it all in their hands.You only caught bits and pieces of what they were saying as they spoke quickly, moving through prayers and chants from eras of ancient times. While you were caught in a trance from the words Uraume was saying, Sukuna’s eyes never left your face. Uruame spoke of combining two souls and you gasped. You remembered Sukuna mentioning the string of fate the very first night you had met, but it wasn’t until now that you could faintly see the glimmering red string from your pinky to his. It was barely there, hidden by a very thin veil of the world as you know it and all the possibilities out there. 

Uraume stopped talking and looked towards Sukuna. He grabbed the dagger from the table and held out his hand for you to take. 

“This will hurt but you will be fine,” he stated. You watched as the jagged teeth of the blade tore through your skin and hissed. Drops of blood pooled in the bowl, and Uraume quickly wrapped your hand and wiped the blade clean. They handed you the blade, and you gingerly took Sukuna’s awaiting palm. 

“Let me know if I’m hurting you,” you mumbled. 

“Impossible.”

After a few deep breaths you managed to cut through Sukuna’s skin and his blood joined yours in the bowl. Once again, Uraume wrapped Sukuna’s hand and cleaned the blade. Sukuna lifted your veil and brought the plate up to your lips. The smell of iron filled your nose and you took a small sip. The metallic liquid covered your tongue, and Sukuna kept his eyes locked on yours as you consumed it. He brought the plate down to place in your hands, and you fed him your blood the same way. 

You didn’t know what to expect. There was no cloud of smoke, or flashing lights, or anything that showed a major transformation had occurred. Sukuna looked as handsome as ever, but you did notice that he no longer had four eyes. You turned to Uraume with a quizzical gaze. 

“What now?”

“I believe this when they say, ‘You may kiss the bride,’” Uraume smiled. 

“Finally,” Sukuna grinned. He wrapped his hands around your waist (only two) and kissed you like he hadn’t in centuries. And maybe he hasn’t. The kiss marked a new beginning that started and would end with you. 

You broke apart when you heard loud complaining from your cat that watched from the patio. Cleo laid over the cement floor flicking her tail back and forth, watching the two of you with disdain. You laughed at her call to stop and Sukuna told her to go away. 

“God, there is blood all over your lips,” you shook your head. You wiped it away with your hands and Sukuna couldn’t stop smiling. 

“Your blood all over my lips.”

“And yours,” you giggled. “It’s official now. You are my husband–”

“And you are my wife,” he said against your mouth. 

Thanks for reading loves!! lemme know what ya think xx

Part: I. II. III. IV. V. VI. VII. VIII. IX. X. XI. XII.

M.list || Twitter || Ao3

[save-the-villainous-cat]

"You hate me right now, don't you?" The villain's breath tickled the hero's neck cruelly and with their hand on the hero's waist, the hero was quite aware that any sudden movements would stir up the entire railway carriage.

They preferred to avoid fights in public. Especially when the space was this limited, especially when the villain could obliterate every single person in here within seconds. The hero counted at least five children within this horribly crowded mess and suddenly, the hair on the exhausted hero's neck stood up. Their eyes widened.

God, the villain was cruel.

The hero didn't even dare to breathe. Pearls of sweat rolled down their neck.

"I don't know what you're talking about," the hero whispered. They leaned against the villain and lowered their voice. Concentrate. Don't provoke. "But I'll admit, I'm honored to be visited by you during the day. On such short notice, too."

The villain had made it a habit to appear and disappear whenever they pleased. But in the middle of the day was rather daring for them. Other people never seemed to notice them or the villain was able to manipulate other people's minds to delete themselves from their memories. The hero didn't know. There was a lot the hero didn't know about the villain. A lot of unanswered questioned that begged to be answered.

"Surely you're aware by now that flattery doesn't really work on me," the villain said. Their hand moved up the hero's side, their fingers running along the hero's arm until they found their hand. Fingers intertwined. "I am not searching for any kind of validation, not even from you. So. Answer me, please."

The hero looked up at them - the villain was unfortunately a little taller now - and their grip tightened around the metallic pole they were holding onto. The movements of the subway made them sway and there were people everywhere around them, so bumping into the villain involuntarily was unavoidable.

"I'm actually...pretty tired" the hero whispered. Kind of a lie. Kind of the truth. Right now, the hero's entire nervous system was working at full blast. But in general, the hero was very tired. "I don't have enough energy in me to be mad at you. If that makes sense."

"Oh, poor hero," the villain mumbled mockingly. They pressed a soft kiss to the hero's forehead. "Embarrassing you in public isn't fun when you don't care."

It had been cartoonishly embarrassing, but the hero didn't dare to admit that.

"I..."

"I feel almost disrespected," the villain said. They shrugged and looked around the railway carriage. "And kind of bored if I am being totally honest."

The hero could deal with a disappointed villain, even with an angry one. But a bored villain?

The subway came to a screeching halt and the hero felt like throwing up when they looked at the playful smirk on the villain's face. Just thinking about the windows and the floor being painted with blood made them feel uneasy. Everyone's life in here depended on the hero's actions. On their words.

"Uhm...let's take this outside, alright?" the hero asked. Minimise casualties. Protect civilians at all costs.

"Nah, not my stop. And if I'm not being mistaken, this isn't your stop either."

The hero took in a deep breath, tried to steady their voice. When it came to the villain, they had made a lot of mistakes in the past. The hero avoided thinking about that. About the past, about their childhood. They had been friends once, they had planned a future together.

Now, that future they had dreamed of was different. They still had each other, somehow. But it wasn't the same. It wasn't what the hero had wanted.

Now, they were like the other's taunting shadow. Or at least, that was exactly what the villain was to them. A reoccurring reminder of all the hero's failures. Their own personal demonic ghost of a dream they had woken up from too soon.

The villain was cruel and punished them for what the hero had done to them. Or what they believed the hero had done to them.

Either way, the hatred and the pain had grown ugly over the years and the hero found themselves longing for those simpler days all those years ago. Letting go of everything was easier said than done.

Letting go of the ugly parts? The parts where they'd been cursed, the parts where they had been wronged? That was easy.

Letting go of the sweet parts? Summers spent outside, drawing the house they wanted to live in together, the pets they wanted to have, showing weird rocks to each other, going swimming in the lake together, eating until they were passing out, falling asleep on the couch together. The innocent days of childhood?

That was completely different.

"I don't hate you," the hero said. "I'm not mad at you for tying me up and dropping me off at the police station, I don't want to kill you, I don't want to provoke you, I...actually..."

They looked up at the villain and frowned slightly. The villain's features were sharper now and little was left of their round face and their big eyes. Weirdly, the villain was the only person who seemed to change the world around them more than the world was changing them.

Somehow, everything mirrored the villain instead of the villain mirroring the world.

The hero sighed and rose to their tip-toes.

And then, they kissed the villain softly.

The villain disappeared immediately, vanishing as quickly as they had shown up and the hero was alone once again.

However, the feeling of the villain's lips against theirs still lingered, compressed their soul. It hadn't been more than a few milliseconds, but it was all the hero could think about all week.

[m-jelly]

His shirts

Mafia dad Levi x fem reader

It'd been a long few days for Levi and being away from his family was something he hated, but sometimes he had to go away with Erwin and a few others to do business in another country. Normally, Levi would take you and his daughter along with him to enjoy a foreign country, but it was too dangerous this time. So, you, his goddess of a wife and precious little baby girl were left at home with his mum helping out.

With arms full of presents and a smile on his face, Levi strolled from his car to his home on the hill with glorious views of the city and sea with mountains behind. It made him smile that as a couple you'd gone from a tiny apartment to this large house. The two of you had worked so hard together.

He pushed open the front door and slipped his shoes and coat off. He slowly made his way into the large living room to see the sunken sofa and sitting area in front of the TV was occupied by you and his three-year-old daughter.

Levi's heart skipped a beat when he heard you giggle at your daughter. He blushed at seeing you and his daughter in shirts of his. He moved closer until he was close to the steps down to the sofa area. Levi's feelings and emotions kept changing. He was aroused by you being in just his shirt and thigh-high socks with your thick thighs he loved biting on show. He felt like he could just melt into a gooey mess at seeing his daughter in his shirt that was too big for her.

Daisy stomped her little feet up to her bear and picked it up into the air. "Sleep with the fishy!" She then threw the bear down to the ground. "Bye-bye." She huffed before looking up and noticing Levi. Daisy's face lit up in pure delight. "DADDY!"

You flinched and turned your head to see Levi. "Hey, grumpy kitty. Welcome home."

Daisy ran over to him with her arms open. "Daddy!"

Levi placed the gifts down before scooping his daughter up into his arms. "Hello, my cute little flower. Have you been good for your mummy?"

She nodded. "Yes! We played, we cuddled and mummy told me so many stories."

"Sounds like a lot of fun." He walked down the steps and sat on the sofa next to you, you were clearly buzzing with excitement at seeing him but you were happily waiting. "I'm glad."

"I slept in Daddy's bed."

"You did? Were you keeping mummy company?"

She nodded. "Yes."

He pocked her cheek. "Thank you." He kissed her puffy cheek. "So, what was this sleeping with the fishy?"

She grinned. "You say it!"

He released a long sigh. "You're right..." He placed her down on her feet. "I have a few presents for you." He leaned over and grabbed the ones for her. "Go sit with your teddy and take your time with them, okay? I have a very beautiful mummy to kiss."

Daisy hugged her gifts as she giggled. "Thank you, daddy. Give mummy lots and lots and lots of kisses!"

He watched her run off before slowly turning to you. He shifted closer as excitement throbbed inside him. "Bunny." He growled your pet name with a deep voice laced with desire. "I missed you." He caressed your cheek. "Come here."

You dove into his arms. "Mm, Levi."

He dragged you onto his lap and inhaled deeply allowing him to enjoy your scent. "Fuck, I missed you so much." He tilted his head and kissed you. The two of you moaned and purred in delight. "Oh, bunny you are a delight and pleasure."

You massaged your fingers in his hair. "So are you." You shifted on his lap. "Promise you're staying a while?"

"Promise. No more going away for days."

"Good, 'cause I might have to lock you up."

He chuckled. "I think I'll like that." He massaged your thighs. "So, my shirt huh?"

You nodded and looked over at Daisy playing with her new toys. "We both missed you. Daisy got very teary-eyed about it so I told her what I do when I miss you, I get one of your shirts. She said we should wear them and we have been for two days now." You looked back at Levi. "That okay?"

"More than okay." He nuzzled his nose against yours. "Wear it later?"

You saw the sparkle in his eyes and knew what he was talking about. "Oh, I will." You nipped his neck. "I'm all yours." You slipped off his lap making him whine. "Now! I think you should help your daughter make her toys sleep with the fishy."

Levi slipped off the sofa and sat on the floor. "Alright, little flower. Who we making sleep today?"

Tag list under the cut

@ladycheesington @levisbrat25 @nyxiieluna @li-anne @galactict3a @youre-ackermine @thebobaprincess @2moth-anon2 @cypidity @nbinairyn @bts-spnlvr12 @darkstarlight82 @emilyyyy-08 @levistealeaf @pelicanpizza @hideandgopeep @notgoodforlife @demonic-bird @searriously @anti-cupid @abiatackerman

[ickytreats]

One order of Perv Siblings!

Icky siblings that find out they like the same porn. First, they would share links now they sit down and can watch hours together. Used to go to their rooms so needy and messy until they finally got the courage to touch themselves in front of each other.

They know how messed up it is but it's so fun! What's wrong with some bonding time? Eventually, they start touching each other. Shyly and not being able to look at each other but eager to make the other cum. They cum so much and hard! They wanna do it again and again. Now they even purposely look each other in the eyes.

Until they watch those step-sibling porn videos. Maybe recreating one won't be bad? Fuck each other so desperately as the video keeps playing on the TV.

[warlocksoup]

SLEAZE ✶⋆.˚ MIYA OSAMU

CHAPTER ONE: locked out

SOUNDTRACK: i don't know you by mannequin pussy

cw: implied ed/unhealthy relationship to food

For breakfast, she cracks an egg onto a hot pan. She ignores it, and lets it crack and bubble, turning her attention to a cold clump of white rice she pulled from the fridge. She turns on the faucet of her kitchen sink and lets the water run into the bowl before she tosses it in the microwave. Two minutes. The eggs pop and crackle in the pan.

When the microwave beeps, she grabs the bowl with her bare hands and burns them. She mumbles curses under her breath and equips herself with a dishrag before she goes at it again. Haphazardly, she slips the egg out of the pan and onto the steaming bowl of rice. She sits down at her counter, remembers that she left the stovetop on, and stands to turn it off before she gets her first bite in.

The eggs are overcooked and tough, but she likes it that way, because if the texture is too runny, it makes her think of snot, and she gets too repulsed to eat anymore. The rice is gummy and sticky. She eats about half of the egg and a quarter of the rice before she gives up, and, when she documents this failure to empty her plate, she cites her inability properly prepare food that isn’t a hot. mushy, chewy mess as the reason. She dumps the rest of it in the trash.

✶⋆.˚

She’s technically unemployed. When her mother calls her to try and rectify this, she falls back on Kenma.

“-and if you want to start auditioning again, I can call my agent friend, and we can get you set up. It’s really no trouble at all. He’d really love to see you on screen again. We all would, sweetie. It’s been so long, and you’re just so talented. Doesn’t it seem like a waste to just rot away in that apartment of yours? With the connections that you have it seems an awful shame. There are a lot of people who would kill for what you have, honey.”

There’s an unlit cigarette in her mouth. Kenma reaches out and snatches it from her mouth before she can light it. He doesn’t even look back at her as he snaps it in half.

“No, Mom, it’s okay,” she says, phone pressed between her elbow and her cheek as she shuffles to grab her pack out from her sweatshirt pocket again. “I got a lot of stuff going on with Kenma and his Bouncing Balls thing,” she pulls out the carton and flicks the lid open, “I don’t think I have the time to even prepare for an audition, and even if I wanted to,” Kenma grabs at the entire carton and forces it out of her hand. She hits his arm.

Her mother sighs wistfully on the other line. “Well, if you change your mind, let me know. It’d really make me happy to see you act again.”

She closes her eyes and takes a deep breath. From his spot on his couch beside her, Kenma removes one hand from his phone to place it on her knee. “I know, Mom.”

“Just let me know. I’ve got to go now. I have a dinner with one of the producers of Ripple Effect. I know you don’t want me to, but I’ll bring your name up just in case. They’re always looking for guest stars. You never know, you might change your mind.”

“Yeah, I might,” she agrees, knowing that she won’t. She looks at Kenma, like she’s begging to be saved, but he keeps his focus on his phone, indifferent to her suffering. “Have fun at your dinner. I’ll talk to you later.”

She doesn’t wait for her mother’s response before she hangs up, but before she can press that red button, she can hear her mother’s half-hearted ‘love you,’ come through the speaker. She pockets her phone.

“It’s Bouncing Ball,” Kenma says, still not looking up from his phone.

“What?” She leans back against the arm of the couch, and kicks her legs out, so her calves are resting on Kenma’s lap. He used to push her legs off of him whenever she did this, but now it seems that it’s not worth the effort to him.

“It’s ball, not balls,” he corrects, and it occurs to her that this is far from the first time he’s had to do so. She can’t ever remember the difference. Ball or balls. Makes no difference to her. “And what are you so busy doing here that you can’t audition for anything?”  

If it weren’t for Kenma, she’d have to get a real job. But she has Kenma, so she was able to dish out enough of her child actor savings to throw at him, and he took it and made it so she gets a healthy paycheck at the end of every week. She doesn’t know how it works. Kenma’s explained it to her before, but she’s never really listened. Matters of money bore her. Most things bore her.

She likes to pretend that Kenma just likes spending time with her enough to pay her for it. It’s more interesting than being an investor or partial owner or whatever the fuck she actually is.

She gives Kenma a bright grin. “Keeping you company, of course.”

“You should get a real job, instead,” he tells her, shutting off his phone and tossing it on the couch cushion. “It’s a better way of spending your time than bothering me all day.”

“Stop pretending you don’t like me,” she tells him. Kenma’s indifference used to eat away at her. In high school, she would obsess over earning his affection, and it drove her insane that he wouldn’t give it up. She used to think she was in love with him, but it turned out she had just tied in her self-worth to his approval.

Turns out she does that kinda thing pretty often.

And anyways, Kenma’s indifference was never really indifference. He just took a few years to get used to.

“It’d be good for you,” he says. “If not for money, then just so you have something to do. Maybe just something part-time.”

Her eyes roll, almost automatically.  All anyone ever does is complain about the job they’ve got. Even if they love it. Even if they’ve dedicated their life to it. She has plenty of unread texts in her phone from Kuroo to prove it. “I’m plenty happy without one.”

Kenma makes some noise in the back of his throat that comes across as half disapproving and half disinterested. And the conversation ends there.

✶⋆.˚

“Fuck, fuck, fuck.”

The wind is whipping her hair in her face and blocking the view of the inside of her purse as her hands frantically push aside her belongings. Her lip-gloss and pepper spray and loose coins knock together as she tries to find her keys.

But no matter how much she moves around her purse’s insides, she can’t find them. And in fact, she can picture perfectly where they are: sitting on the edge of the counter in Kenma’s kitchen, next to her stolen pack of cigarettes and a half-empty can of an energy drink.

The wind is getting colder and she’s starting to shiver under her thin jacket. Just behind the locked door, there’s a faux minx coat hanging up above her shoe rack, and she’s fantasizing about its warmth.

“Fuck,” she grumbles again, eventually moving past denial and giving up her search for her keys in favor of her phone. Kenma’s the only person she ever calls, so she’s quick to find his contact. She calls his number, and steps away from her front door, one arm pressing her phone to her ear, and the other wrapping around her center, pulling the jacket tighter to her.

The phone rings, and rings, and Kenma does not answer. She hangs up and tries to dial again but gets the same result. “Fuck, Kenma, I left your keys at my place and now I’m locked out. Call me back please.”

She hangs up, and scrolls through her notifications, hoping that there’s some text from Kenma saying he found her keys and is already on his way to bring them to her.

kodzuken has gone live!

She’s fucked.

Feeling defeated, she flops back against the door, and pouts. The solution to most of her problems. Kenma wouldn’t notice if she kicked down his door. She’s sure she could break in, if she tried hard enough. Though one of his neighbors might call the police if she tries to break a window in. And even if they didn’t, Kenma might not forgive her for that one. He’d probably give her a pay cut, if he could. Actually, she’s not sure he could, she’s not really sure how it works.

“Hey!”

She lifts her head. The Miya of Onigiri Miya is standing at the edge of the sidewalk, hands deep in his pockets. A car passes between them, and then it’s just the two of them. She swallows.  

She takes a step forward without really thinking about it. He looks cold, arms exposed by the short sleeves of his t-shirt, covered in nothing else but his store apron. He grabs at the brim of his cap, and then pulls it down firm. “Are you okay?”

✶⋆.˚

In front of her is her usual lunch, salmon onigiri, plated neatly on the counter of Onigiri Miya. She sits there, the restaurant’s only occupant, and keeps her arms by her side, staring down at the meal before her.

“Is everything okay?”

Her eyes flick up. Behind the counter, where he usually is, is the owner. The titular Miya. With the arms.

She looks back down at her plate. The idea of eating her lunchtime food at night makes her uneasy. There’s a cold plate of curry rice in her fridge she was supposed to be heating up instead. She doesn’t want to eat in front of Miya. She does usually, during lunch, but it’s different. He’s too busy then, hands full with tasks and customers, to notice her eating. Now, it’s like there’s a spotlight on her.

“I just made your usual lunch order,” Miya says, like he went too long without an answer and got nervous. He scratches the back of his neck. “I’m sorry I didn’t ask what you want, I just figured. If it’s not what you wanted, I can make you something else.”

“No,” she shakes her head, now feeling like she’s got no choice. “This is great, thanks.”

She smiles at him, and he smiles back. And he doesn’t look away as she tepidly lifts the onigiri to take a small bite out of the corner, feeling nauseous and watched as she does so.

This seems to satisfy him. “Good?” he questions.

She nods as she chews, smiling as she swallows. “Yeah, great as always,” she tells him, lying. It tastes like everything else does to her. “You make my favorite food, y’know.”

That’s at least true. It is her favorite food. She likes that he makes it, carefully, with his own hands.

He blushes at this. “Thanks. I, uh, I appreciate that.”

She’s spent a lot of time imaging him, thinking of scenarios like this one. The two of them alone, passing tension-filled words and blushing flirtations. He has been carefully constructed, pieced together in her mind.

Though, he’s not as forward as she imagined him to be, not as talkative. In her head, he is bold and gives her straightforward compliments and he fusses over her and he is smooth with his words. In her head, he feeds her with his own hands and wipes the corner of her mouth with his thumb.

But in real life, he’s reserved. Polite but not saying more than he needs to. He hasn’t professed attraction or begged her for a date or pressed her against the wall. He hasn’t done anything but give her a plate of food and a warm place to wait for Kenma.

Which isn’t as disappointing as she thought it would be. It just sort of makes her want it more.

Her phone buzzes on the countertop. She flips it over to see nothing from Kenma, but a generic ‘here’s what you missed’ Twitter notification. She hesitantly takes another bite from her meal, and it hits the pit of her stomach like a wet pile of mud.

In her seat, she feels awkward. She tries to think of something intriguing to say. Something that would make him want to see more of her. But all she can think of his how hot the lights of the store feel when he’s there, watching as she eats.

“Thanks for letting me wait here,” she says eventually. “I am sorry to keep you here past closing, though.”

Miya shrugs. “Nah, don’t worry about it. It got me out of making dinner for my brother, so it actually works out pretty great for me.”

Her phone vibrates again. Her mother this time.

Dinner went well! I got a good word in with that producer, so you might be getting a call soon!

She can’t help but make a face. She wipes it off as soon as she feels it grow.

 “Bad news from your friend?” Miya asks, reading the sourness of her expression.

“Uh, no. Just my mom,” she explains, and shifts around in her seat. “She’s trying to get me on a television show.”

Miya leans forward, resting his forearms on the counter in front of her. It makes her oddly nervous. “And it’s not going well?”

She snickers. “Actually, it’s going a little too well. I’m not really into acting. I retired when I was eight.”

“Yeah, I remember,” he tells her. “Me and my brother used to watch Family Sized with our mom every week. He had a crush on you, and he cried when you left the show.”

It’s weird for her to think that people just know. Especially him. That he can just look back at some of the worst years of her life as just as a collection of fond moments from his childhood. An hour to bond once a week with his brother and mother. To sit in front of the television and watch her suffer through her childhood.

Him, and everyone else in the goddamn country.

“Yeah, my mom too,” she says wryly. “She’s been trying to get me back in it ever since then. Unfortunately for her, I like my current job too much.”

“Yeah? What’s your current job?”

She smiles. “I’m unemployed.”

Miya laughs, dropping his head down as he chuckles, and she feels oddly proud for making him laugh. Even if it’s at her own expense. He straightens up and stands upright. “Well, if you ever do want a job, you can always try it out here.”

It’s not an invitation for late night drinks, but she takes it as an indicator that maybe he wouldn’t mind spending more time with her. She’s counting it as a win. “Yeah, if you ever want to give your customers food poisoning, I’d be a great hire.”

Another notification from her phone. This one’s from Kenma.

I sent an Uber back to your place. Just stay at my place tonight. I don’t feel great about you going back and forth this late at night.

She looks down at her barely eaten onigiri and then back up at Miya again. “Got an Uber coming my way,” she tells him. “I’ll go outside and wait for it. Thanks for letting me stay here.”

“You sure you don’t need anything else?” he questions. “Do you want me to wrap up the rest of that for you so you can take it home?”

She says yes, because she thinks it would offend him if she said no. So he places the rest of it an a paper box for her and she says thank you as she takes it from him, knowing she has no intention of finishing it off.

A car pulls up to the outside of her apartment as she’s walking out the door. She turns back to Miya, and she says, “Tell your brother I’m sorry, by the way, for leaving the show and making him cry like that.”

He waves her off. “Don’t worry about him,” he tells her. “I’m hoping he’s over it, by now.”

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[puppetwoman17]

You know, i wanna expand a bit on Billy’s relationship with Ebenezer, because I feel like it’s so important to dissecting Billy’s character.

⚠️If you don’t wanna read about my thoughts on Billy’s mental abuse by his only adult relative, then please click away⚠️

My mind went back to the fact that Billy couldn’t go with his family to Egypt solely because of his lacking grades. I wondered, E must know, right? Maybe he was told in passing, maybe Billy told him and asked him for help studying, whatever. And I just know that he made fun of and ridiculed him. He likely called him dumb, moronic, any name in the book.

Ebenezer constantly relayed to him and validated the notion that Billy stopped HIMSELF from being with his family in their last moments. That he was too stupid to be with them.

With that in mind, he would have had to be solely dependent on his uncle. Unfortunately, that’s not possible. He’d have no choice but to trust him, but we know that backfires. His only reprieve is school, so when he gets home, Ebenezer would tell him to put his stupid brain to good use.

Anyone can sneak and buy beer. Even an idiot like him.

The basis for their entire relationship is that Billy looks like his dad. Hell, he practically worships him. But because Ebenezer can’t very well scare his younger brother(height mixed with a strong personality), he goes for the closest thing. A spitting image of his half-brother who still hasn’t developed mentally and barely exhibits any traits.

It will take years for Billy to realize that Ebenezer is a coward. Until then, that man is his worst nightmare. He’s the thing he fears most in this world. Forget Black Adam, Darkseid, and Mr. Mind. Merely thinking of Ebenezer Batson, the man who belittled him so much that he has trouble trusting himself, causes him to shut down or divert away from those thoughts.

Just like his dad, Billy is everything Ebenezer isn’t. He’s young. He’s talented. He’s charming. He has opportunity. And he believes in himself because his parents made sure he did. So the worst possible thing Ebenezer could ever do to his nephew is mess up all that careful development.

“Are you sure they loved you?”

“Are you sure you can do this?”

“You’re the only one who stopped you from being with them.”

“When are you going to realize that you can’t do anything right?”

Ebenezer Batson is the only person in the world who knows the one other way he could crush his nephew’s spirit. Ruining Captain Marvel’s image.

Because he definitely “knows” knows. CC’s face on Marvel tells him everything he should know.

The one thing, above all, that could crush his nephew’s spirit into dust, is ruining Captain Marvel’s image. Because it’s genuinely all he has left of his dad. He’s the only way he can see his dad talking and moving on screen. It’s like he’s still here, and Billy never wants to ruin that.

But he’s an idiot. That’s what E used to tell him. What if he makes a mistake and no one likes Cap anymore? What if he’s ruined the image of CC Batson(his face, his ideals, his hopes) forever?

Just the fact that it’s not these cosmic beings of mass destruction or mad scientists bent on world domination that shakes Marvel/Billy to his core. It’s this evil old man who knows him better than anyone. Knows how he thinks. Knows what buttons to push to get him angry and look bad. Knows how to lower that self-confidence.

[daisyofwaterdeep]

I just love how you write Zevlor! I need more of how you write him. Imagine the early part where he is hopelessly pining. So pitiful and so pathetic. It brings the sadistic part out of me.

kjnckjndsc Zevlor is so fun to teaseeeeeeee

!NSFW!

-You're not stupid. Zevlor may not be aware, but he's painfully obvious about his crush on you

-You like him too, but it's far too fun to flirt with him and see him get all flustered for you to rush things along

-So unbeknownst to him, you torture the hellrider

-Leaning over his desk as you talk with him, showing off your cleavage. Touching your lips like an absent-minded habit as the two of you talk. Touching his arm, hands, back every chance you get

-And every single time, Zevlor turns into a stammering mess. His eyes go to the floor, his cheeks turn a deeper red, and his tail wags nervously behind him. He's absolutely adorable like this, and you love turning partly away or acting distracted so you can see those fiery eyes greedily rake over your body, only for him to return to his embarrassed avoidance when you turn back to him

-You're always thinking of new ways to (sweetly) torture him, and the perfect opportunity presents itself when you fall down and scrape your knee

-It's nothing terrible, but it is bleeding and throbbing like a bitch. So you make your way to Zevlor's office, taking a moment to shimmy off your panties and stash them away first

-His serious face melts away as soon as he sees you, a smile already pulling at his lips, but then he sees you hobble into the room, and it disappears

-"Are you alright? What happened?"He's at your side in an instant, his nerves seemingly forgotten as he wraps an arm around your waist to support you

-You explain that you took a nasty tumble, and figured that he would know a thing or two about first aid

-Zevlor leads you into the room, and before he can usher you into his chair, you hop up on his desk instead, bunching your dress up high in your lap to show off more leg than necessary. His hand lingers a moment too long on your back before he pulls away, heading towards the chest in the corner of the room

-"I've got a healing potion that'll take care of it--"

-You cut him off and tell him not to waste a healing potion on a scrape

-He looks like he wants to argue, but he holds his tongue and rifles around in the chest to procure a roll of bandages and some ointment

-When he returns to you and kneels down, you have to fight a victorious smile back. You've got him exactly where you want him

-You can feel the hesitancy in his fingers as he gently cups the back of your calf and inspects the scrape. His glowing eyes are focused and he's got a light scowl on his face

-"It looks to be shallow, so that's a relief. It should heal up nicely. Likely won't even leave a scar."

-You tell him with a smile how that's a shame, because you think scars can be quite sexy

-His eyes flicker up to you for the briefest moment before returning to your knee, his scowl faltering before firmly setting back in

-"I'm putting the ointment on now," He says, voice calm and level, seeming to completely ignore your comment, "My apologies, but it may sting a bit..."

-You had anticipated the sting, and even counted on it. Your heart hammers as he smears a generous helping on two of his fingers and brings them to the wound

-It's about as bad as you expected--which is to say, not bad at all. But as his careful fingers make contact with the enflamed skin, you let your breath hitch and a small whine leave you. He pulls back immediately, eyes refusing to look up at you

-"Shhh, shh, I know...Just a little unpleasantness and it'll be over..."

-You can see that his breathing's a little faster too. Even if he's perfected his pokerface, you can see that your little outburst has affected him. Time to step it up a notch

-His fingers slowly return and begin rubbing the ointment in. You hiss between your teeth and let out pathetic noises that would make any eavesdropper blush. A particularly breathy "fuck" under your breath has Zevlor biting his bottom lip--a look that seems to be from his focus, but you're pretty sure is from something else

-"There we go", His voice is husky and he quickly clears his throat, "The hard part is over."

-Oh, you beg to differ. You have a feeling that some things are about to get a lot harder

-You scoot forward on the desk, purposely pressing your knees together as he's distracted with unrolling the gauze

-He looks back up, already reaching for your leg, then realizes the problem. You play dumb, waiting for him to say it

-"I'll need you to--" He gestures vaguely with the bandage, but you just blink down at him, acting as if you're completely oblivious. He swallows roughly and quietly finishes his sentence, "....To open your legs."

-You pretend like you just noticed and apologize, all the while electric desire zips down your spine. You spread your knees, your hands still tangled in your dress and drawing it up further on your thighs as you do so

-And then it happens. Zevlor notices. You see his fiery eyes wander between your legs and then freeze before shooting back to your knee, his nostrils flaring and his jaw flexing. His hands seem to be locked in time, unable to move as he processes the fact that he just saw your bare pussy, and that it's mere inches from him

-You softly call his name, and you can see him fight the reaction to look up at you, but he keeps his eyes glued to your knee, refusing to look anywhere else. You ask him if something's wrong

-"No," He responds, his deceptively calm voice somewhat frayed and strained around the edges, "Sorry, I was...thinking."

-His hands begin working, their movements stiff and clumsy with his nerves. You can see his tail behind him, sliding back and forth against the floor in jittery arcs

-Even with his nerves, he's making quick work of your knee, wrapping it snugly and expertly, his fingers brushing against your skin with practiced gentleness. You know you don't have long

-You sigh and tell him how much you appreciate this. You ask him if there's anything you can do to repay him

-"No repayment is necessary." Zevlor fastens the bandage in place and you can see him take one last not-so-secret glance at your pussy before he stands, turning immediately away from you. "You're all set."

-To be honest, you're equal parts impressed and disappointed. Zevlor really is a gentleman, through and through.

-He crouches down by the chest in the corner, busying himself with putting the ointment away, and you take the opportuinty to hop off his desk, finally letting your dress fall back down your legs in defeat

-The teasing has been fun, but with how polite Zevlor is, you know that he'll never be the one to make the first move. It's about time that you take matters into your own hands

-You call his name again and see his back straighten and his head turn, just enough so that you can see one of his flickering eyes. You tell him that you'd really like to repay him...perhaps tonight?

-His head turns back to the chest, obscuring his face entirely from you. "What do you have in mind?"

-Faking nonchalance, you make your way to the door, voice light and airy as you say that he seemed quite interested in what's between your legs, so you suppose the two of you can start there

-Zevlor is completely silent, frozen yet again as he realizes that he had been caught looking. You wave at his back, even if you know he can't see it, and tell him that you'll see him tonight, in your room

-You leave, heart hammering and a giddy little laugh escaping you despite yourself. You'd skip through the camp if your knee wasn't busted up

[demonic0angel]

I've had this idea rattling in my brain for a while, and I dont know what to do with it. Cannon Damian has had his spine replaced with titanium. Damian Fenton still has his normal spine. Titanium is about 3x heavier than bone.

The Batfam find out about Damian Fenton and they (cough cough Bruce) do a wellfare check by switching him with cannon Damian at school. Jazz instantly knows she does not have her son when she playfully tries to carry him to the car. Her son is not that heavy.

Maybe parallel universe shenanigans or the speedsters messing with the timeline caused there to be two Damians. 🤷‍♀️

I like this idea bc the angst and comfort would be so good. However, I have several questions.

1) Why would Bruce and the Batfam do this in the first place? If I misunderstood your ask, since it kinda seems like they also willingly switched out the Damians for a welfare check, then why didn’t they just keep the Damian with the titanium spine??

2) Why would canon!Damian go along with Jazz’s whims??

3) The entire Fenton Family is really powerful and protected by outside forces (Observants and Clockwork, Shadow, etc), how would they not know about the switch??

I’m confused, but this idea would be fun for the angst when Jazz fights to get her kid back and canon!Damian gets to spend time with her while Fenton!Damian kicks Bruce’s ass.

[ladykailitha]

Of Butterflies and Backstrokes Part 15

And here we are at the end! It's been a wild and fun ride. Thank you to everyone who came with me on this journey!

@cryptid-system I hope my solution is as easy as yours ;)

We have the fallout from the cliffhanger, Steve taking that final step, and the truth comes out.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14

~

When they got there, it was already a mess. Eddie had caught Jason at his locker and when Chrissy provided evidence that he was told to do so by Billy, that pretty much stopped the whole fucking event.

It took two days to untangle the whole shitshow, but at the end, Jason was replaced by an alternate and Chrissy allowed to continue, but with strict instructions that if she so much as toed the line she would be removed too.

Chrissy readily agreed. She wanted to compete, she didn’t want to cheat.

But that got Eddie thinking and he discussed his theory with the judges. They agreed to look into it but that the games would continue as scheduled.

Eddie agreed that would probably be best.

When it was time for the first meet, for real this time, Eddie made a show of checking his starting block for any sign of sabotage.

“Eddie Munson, checking his block for any signs of tampering,” the announcer said. “With his coach being Steve Harrington and the attempt to get him out of the races for drug possession, he has a lot of reasons to be cautious.”

The other announcer burst out laughing. “Did he just kick it? Like one does a tire of a used car one is buying?”

“It appears he did,” the announcer said, grinning from ear to ear. “It makes for some good entertainment, though.”

“It does that, yes.”

Eddie looked up at the stands and gave Steve a thumbs up and Steve burst out laughing.

Then Eddie put his goggles on, lowered himself into the water and grasped the starting block. He settled in and waited for the horn. No gun shots here.

Then the horn blared and he was off like a shot, arching into the water the way that Steve always loved.

He was graceful and fluid. And he was way ahead of his peers.

Steve was on the edge of his seat. Wayne and Robin each had a hand on his shoulders as Eddie kept his lead. Steve glanced up at the timer, but it was no where near a world record. But at this point it didn’t matter. Slowly the three of them rose to their feet as he neared the end.

Then he touched the pad and the entire stadium roared to life.

“What an incredible performance!” the first announcer crowed. “First time Olympian, Eddie Munson has taken the first gold of the swimming games!”

“And what an amazing gold it was,” the second announcer agreed. “We have USA teammate Trent York in silver, and bronze medal to Itsuke Tohsaka for Japan!”

“Great work to the USA for that double win,” the announced concluded.

~

On the winner’s podium, Eddie took a bite out of the gold to make sure it was real and then held it above his head.

Steve was so excited, he was jumping up and down. Then he did the unexpected. He ran out to the field and kissed Eddie senseless as he hopped down from the podium and into Steve’s waiting arms.

Steve spun him around excitedly and then kissed him again.

“If that’s the reaction I get when I get gold I’m going to have to win a lot more of them,” Eddie teased.

“It won’t matter,” Steve murmured into his ear. “I’ll kiss you no matter how you fare.”

Eddie smacked his arm. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m gonna watch my teammate propose to his girlfriend of three years.”

Steve turned to where, sure enough Trent York was getting down on one knee to ask his girlfriend to marry him.

“Ah...” he said with a deep blush. “Nothing to be jealous of there, then?”

Eddie gently pulled Steve’s gaze away from the happy scene. “Never, lover boy.” And kissed him to the roar of the crowd.

The poor Japanese kid was looking around because he didn’t know what to do. Then a fan came tearing through the crowd and promptly kissed him on the mouth.

The announcers were calling it the love games, much to Steve and Eddie’s absolute glee.

~

Eddie medalled in all five of his events with talks to see about joining some of the medley teams for greater diversity of his form.

After Eddie’s last gold medal, his third, he was approached by the Olympic community for the swimming. His other two were silver, beating out Steve’s first time.

“Mr. Munson,” the French judge said, “we wanted to thank you for bringing to our attention your suspicions of the 2008 games.”

Steve looked at Eddie in confusion. “What suspicions?”

“Steve,” Wayne said gravely, “it’s been the long-held belief of a lot of people for awhile now that your accident wasn’t an accident at all.”

“Of course it was,” he said, frowning. “They looked into it afterwards and there were no signs of tampering.”

The Olympic members looked around at each other abashedly.

“That’s not quite true,” the English Olympic member muttered, “it was deemed inconclusive.”

Steve’s eyes went wide. “Are you kidding me right now?”

“With Billy sabotaging Mr. Munson with the drugs,” the French Olympic member said, “he asked us to see if there was any indication he had done such things in the past.”

“Billy?” Steve said, feeling the rush of blood around his ears. “Oh god. I always thought there was more to what happened, but Billy?”

He sank to a crouch and put his head between his legs to ward off a faint. They led him over to a bench and Robin rushed to get him water.

“When we started looking into the matter,” the English Olympic member said, “a maintenance worker immediately came forward because he feared that he would lose his job if he didn’t.”

“Holy shit,” Eddie said, sitting down hard next to Steve. “I really didn’t think anything would come of this. But it’s assault, right?”

“Technically it’s battery,” the French Olympic member murmured, “but while the Olympic Community has the authority to strip Billy of his two bronze medals, we cannot do anything else because it happened in Tokyo.”

Steve shook his head. “No, no. I get it. Just knowing he’s to blame is enough. Knowing that I have answers for the first time in my life to what happened to me, is–is plenty.”

Just then Billy came storming up to them. “This all your fault, Harrington. You’ll pay for this. I’m the superior swimmer, you fucking coward.”

“So put your money where your mouth is,” Steve growled getting to his feet. “Right here, right now. You and me, 150m. They’ll judge,” he pointed to the two Olympic members. “But I am and will forever be your god.”

Robin and Eddie shared shocked glances. They both wanted to jump in and ask if Steve was sure, but Wayne put a hand on Eddie’s chest and shook his head.

Robin opened her mouth to protest, but she saw the firm lines of Steve’s jaw and knew. He had this.

“Go suit up,” the English Olympic member said with a curt nod. “I think Mr. Harrington deserves a rematch, don’t you Marie?”

The French Olympic member nodded. “Yes, Theodore, I do believe he does. I will send someone to get you the appropriate gear.”

“Steve would you mind changing in the women’s dressing room to prevent trouble?” Theodore asked.

Steve nodded. “That’s fine. It makes it easier because my assistant coach is a woman.”

The two members nodded and everyone went their separate ways, leaving Wayne and Eddie alone in the bleachers.

“I’m so worried, Uncle Wayne,” Eddie admitted as he clasped his hands together, leaning on his knees. He dropped his head between his shoulders with a heavy sigh.

“He’ll be fine,” Wayne soothed, rubbing Eddie’s back. “He needs to do this otherwise he’ll always be afraid. But if you’re so worried call Rhys.”

Eddie straightened up. “I didn’t know you were on a first name basis with Gareth’s dad.”

Wayne scoffed. “Kid, I’m on a first name basis with all your friends’ parents, considering how much trouble you lot tended to get up to.”

Eddie cocked his head to the side. “Yeah, okay that tracks.” He picked up his bag that Wayne had been holding on to.

After the incident with Jason and Billy, Eddie refused to use the lockers at all and just handed Wayne his stuff before every meet. He dug around his clothes until he found what he was looking for. His cell phone. He called up Dr. Hughes.

“Eddie!” Dr. Hughes greeted cheerfully. “To what do I owe this pleasure?”

So Eddie told him.

“I’m with Wayne on this one,” he said when Eddie was done. “But I appreciate your concern was enough that you reached out. He’ll be fine. Congrats on your relationship, though.”

Eddie snorted. “Of course he told you. But yeah, thanks. We don’t know what’s going to happen going forward, but we’re going to figure it out together.”

“He didn’t tell me anything, Ed,” Dr. Hughes said with a laugh. “I’m pretty sure the whole world saw that kiss.”

Eddie blushed and shoved a strand of hair in front of his face even though Dr. Hughes couldn’t see him.

“Oh, yeah.”

“Forgot about that little tidbit?” Dr. Hughes asked, slyly.

“It was a really good kiss,” he murmured.

Dr. Hughes laughed again. “Fair enough. Tell Steve good luck for me.”

“Will do.”

Eddie nearly dropped his phone when Steve came out. It was not the Steve he knew. The man in front of him oozed confidence and charm. The man who would be king.

He trotted up to him and licked his lips. “You don’t have to do this. You know you’re better than he is.”

Steve smirked. “Oh I do, but he doesn’t.”

Eddie huffed a laugh and helped him get all his hair under the cap. Then they walked over to the starting blocks. There was space between the two that Billy and he would use. It looked as though they were taking this very seriously.

“Butterfly?” Billy sneered. “I want to beat you at your best.”

“Butterfly it is,” Steve said with a nod. He pulled his goggles on and Billy pretended to rush him, but Steve didn’t even flinch. “I’ve faced scarier things than you in the last four years, you’re nothing.”

He turned on his heel and got up on the starting block. Billy did the same, without the swagger from before. Eddie would swear for years, he saw sweat bead on Billy’s temples as they waited for the horn.

Then it went off. They both dived into the water. And instantly, Eddie could tell the difference. Not just in form, but style too.

They watched and waited as they did their laps. Steve keeping a body’s length between Billy and him. Then it was the last lap and Steve surged ahead, outstripping Billy even further.

Steve tapped the plate well before Billy did and yanked off his goggles, whooping and cheering.

“Oh my god!” Chrissy screamed.

“Steve look up!” Robin called out.

At first Eddie didn’t understand what she was screaming about. Then he spotted it. “Steve, baby. I need you to look at your time.”

Steve looked at the judges first who were in shock. Then he looked over at Billy who looked completely devastated. He finally looked up at the time clock. A new world record.

“It can’t be counted because it wasn’t an official race,” Marie said. “But if you can replicated it, you have to have to come back to the sport. Especially with a time like that.”

“Hell yeah!” Steve cheered, pulling himself out of the pool. “I’m back, baby!”

Eddie rushed over and kissed him senseless the moment he was on his feet.

“Mr. Harrington there is the small matter of being Mr. Munson’s coach,” Theodore said, pained.

Robin raised her hand. “Hold on, what is the biggest concern with an athlete/coach relationship?”

The two judges exchanged glances.

“The power imbalance,” Marie said. “And especially considering the large gap between their ages it wouldn’t be appropriate.”

“But if we take into consideration Steve’s trauma and phobias,” Robin continued, “it wouldn’t be an imbalance.”

The judges didn’t look sure, especially after that performance.

“Trauma can crop back up at any time,” Robin said, “so this doesn’t mean he’s fixed.”

“Rob!” Steve chuckled. “There’s an easier way to do this, without upsetting these good people.”

She blinked at him for a moment. “Huh?”

“You coach us both!” he said with a laugh. “If we’re peers then there can’t be a power imbalance at all!”

“Oh!”

Everyone laughed.

~

Joyce handed Robin a box in front of Max, Eddie, and Steve. She opened the box and inside was a coach’s jacket with BUCKLEY in silver and black bold letters. She tried to hold back tears as Steve helped her put it on.

“You earned it,” he whispered, before going and standing next to Eddie.

“Just one more thing before you get started,” Joyce said with a smile. “Robin has decided to also have an assistant coach. May I introduce you to Coach Cunningham.”

Chrissy stepped out of the women’s locker room with a smile and shy little wave.

“I trust there won’t be any difficulties?” Joyce asked with a raised eyebrow.

Everyone shook their heads no.

Eddie put his arm around her shoulders. “So what made you decide to become a coach?”

“I decided I wasn’t cut out for the competition racket,” she said with a grin. “Billy showed me that.”

Eddie nodded.

“Plus there’s the fact that there are no rules against dating a fellow coach.”

Eddie barked out a laugh as Robin turned bright, bright red.

Oh yeah, Chrissy was going to fit in just fine.

Steve grabbed his arm. “Come on, I’ll race you to the pool!”

Eddie threw his head back and laughed and laughed, all the while Steve took off running. He shook his head and chased his boyfriend to the pool.

Thank god for Jim Hopper.

~

Tag List: STORY COMPLETE

1- @itsall-taken @redfreckledwolf @zerokrox-blog @gloomysoup

2- @gregre369 ​@a-little-unsteddie @chaosgremlinmunson @messrs-weasley @cryptid-system

3- @maya-custodios-dionach @goodolefashionedloverboi @val-from-lawrence @carlyv @wonderland-girl143-blog

4- @irregular-child @bookbinderbitch @bookworm0690 @forgottenkanji @eriquin

5- @anne-bennett-cosplayer @yikes-a-bee @awkwardgravity1 @littlewildflowerkitten @genderless-spoon

6- @dragonmama76 @ellietheasexylibrarian @thedragonsaunt @useless-nb-bisexual @disrespectedgoatman

7- @counting-dollars-counting-stars @tinyplanet95 @ravenfrog @swimmingbirdrunningrock @lingeringmirth

8- @gutterflower77 @a-lovely-craziness @just-a-tiny-void @w1ll0wtr33 @beelze-the-bubkiss

9- @chameleonhair @sadisticaltarts @dreamercec @xxfiction-is-my-realityxx @mac-attack19

10- @aol19 @tartarusknight @morallyundefined

[diamonddaze01]

Hiii!! I love your little stables, they’re so fun!

Could you do dk + prompt 75? Thank you!

dog days

pairing: seokmin x reader | wc: 1.4k prompt: “guess who's going to be a father!” a/n: i had WAYYYYY too much fun with this lol

The text leaves your phone with an almost sinister delight. 

Y/N: guess who’s going to be a father?

You set the phone down with an almost wicked sense of satisfaction and glance over at the tiny furball gnawing on her brand-new squeaky toy. Her tiny tail wags in a blur, like a metronome set to excitement. "Your dad is going to lose it," you whisper, crouching to ruffle her floppy ears. She yips in response, her voice more like a squeaky hinge than a bark, almost as if she’s in on the joke.

She’s a whirlwind of fluff, waddling around with the toy clutched tightly in her mouth, her big brown eyes blinking up at you innocently. It all started this morning when you were just out for a casual shopping trip. You had no intention of adopting a dog—not even close—but when you passed by the animal shelter and saw her? Well, the universe had other plans.

You'd been walking down the street, listlessly browsing, when the soft, pitiful whine of a puppy reached your ears from behind a small, open door. On impulse, you stepped closer to the shelter, your curiosity getting the best of you. And that’s when you saw her—her tiny face peeking out of her kennel, eyes wide with innocence, a little tail wagging furiously despite her rough start in life.

Without a second thought, you found yourself in the shelter’s lobby, filling out adoption papers. You’d been telling yourself you just wanted to look, but in reality, you’d fallen head over heels before you even knew what was happening. She was a mess of floppy ears and big eyes, and as soon as she licked your hand for the first time, it was over.

By the time you picked her up, a full plan had already formed in your head. Seokmin had been so busy with work, and this is just what he needed (but of course, you had to have your fun first). A surprise like this would shake him out of his routine—and you just couldn’t resist.

Your phone buzzes again, snapping you out of your thoughts. Seokmin’s name lights up the screen. His frantic texts and calls flood in immediately:

minnie 💖: what minnie 💖: wha the fuck minnie 💖: what do you MEAN minnie 💖: FATHER??????? minnie 💖: are u being serious minnie 💖: this is a prank minnie 💖: why arent u responding minnie 💖: baby minnie 💖: BABY minnie 💖: do NOT leave me hanging minnie 💖: HELLO????? minnie 💖: wait minnie 💖: are you ok? minnie 💖: baby ur killing me here minnie 💖: RESPOND

You smirk, choosing to let him stew for a few more minutes. You respond with a cool, collected message: 

Y/N: come home after work we can talk

And as an added bonus, you type out: 

Y/N: love you, daddy 

That’s all it takes. Less than twenty minutes later, you hear the screech of tires outside. A car door slams, followed by the unmistakable sound of Seokmin rushing through the front door, slamming it against the wall with enough force to rattle the nearby picture frames.

"Baby!" His voice is pitched somewhere between panic and determination as he strides inside. His tie is hanging loose, his hair is a messy mop from a long day, and his work bag is hanging off one shoulder like it could tumble off at any moment. He looks like he’s barely holding it together.

His eyes dart around the room, landing on you. His breath is shallow, his pulse racing.

"But we were so careful," he blurts, pacing in frantic circles, running his hands through his hair. "How could this even happen? Wait, no, I do know how, but how?!"

"Seokmin, I—"

"Are you okay?" he interrupts, his voice climbing an octave. "Do you feel okay? Should we go to the doctor? Oh my god, we need to go to the doctor, right? Just to be safe—"

"Seokmin, please—"

"And—wait, wait, okay," he halts abruptly, hands on his hips as if to steady himself, trying to ground himself in the chaos. "Okay. Okay. Let's just not panic."

"That’s what I’m trying to say—"

"We’re adults," he continues, the words spilling out in a rush. "We love each other. We can handle this, right? We can—"

"Seokmin!"

The sharpness in your voice cuts through the tornado of his thoughts. His shoulders stiffen, and he stops mid-step, his brows knitting together in confusion.

"What?"

Before you can answer, the soft sound of tiny paws skittering across the floor reaches your ears. Seokmin freezes, his gaze snapping toward the hallway. Then, like a bolt of lightning, his eyes widen, watching as the little puppy comes careening into the room, ears flopping wildly as she tumbles, regains her footing, and barrels straight toward him. Her tail wags so fast it looks like it might take flight, and she lets out an adorably squeaky bark.

He stares.

"You… got a dog?" His voice cracks slightly as his hands fall limply to his sides, the weight of realization hitting him like a freight train.

You grin, crouching down to scoop the puppy into your arms. "No, baby. We got a dog. She was supposed to be your birthday present, but I got too excited."

Seokmin blinks, looking between you and the puppy, his face a mixture of shock and relief. Then it all clicks. "So, you’re not… pregnant?" His words are slow, as if testing out the possibility that he might have completely misread the situation.

You laugh, shaking your head. "No, that’s what I was trying to tell you. But you are a dad now. Go ahead—give your daughter some kisses."

A beat of silence passes as Seokmin processes your words. Then, without another word, he drops down to his knees, cradling the puppy with absolute reverence. His hands are gentle, like he’s afraid to break her, and he presses his nose into her soft fur. "She’s so tiny," he whispers, completely enamored. "I thought I was going to have to Google how to change diapers, but this?" His smile widens as he kisses her head again, his voice soft and full of adoration. "This I can definitely do. Welcome to the family, baby girl."

You slip your arms around his waist, resting your cheek against his back as you watch the scene unfold. "I knew you’d be a natural," you tease, your voice light, the warmth between you both undeniable.

He looks back at you with a soft laugh. "What should we name her?"

You nudge him playfully. "I don’t know, you’re the dad. You choose."

Seokmin pauses, staring at the puppy who is now rolling around in his lap. After a few moments of consideration, he looks up at you with an almost mischievous grin. "We should name her Panic."

You blink, caught off guard. "Panic?"

"Yeah," he says, laughing sheepishly. "Because that’s what I felt the most before I met her. And honestly? She feels worth the panic."

You roll your eyes but can’t help smiling. "Fine, but don’t come crying to me when she chews up your shoes."

Seokmin grins, his eyes twinkling. "Oh, come on. You know she’s going to chew your shoes first."

Just as the words leave his mouth, the puppy squirms free from his arms and rolls onto the floor, scurrying toward her squeaky toy. She immediately goes to town, gnawing at it with all the enthusiasm she can muster. The sound of her tiny jaws working on the plastic toy fills the room.

"She’s got your energy," you murmur, leaning against Seokmin as he pulls you in closer, wrapping his arms around you.

"And your sass," he counters, pressing a kiss to your temple. He looks down at the puppy with a smile that says everything. "She’s perfect."

You both sit there, watching her wrestle with the squeaky toy. The chaos, the mess—it’s all so natural now. Seokmin pulls you closer, and you lean into him, the warmth of his body against yours a perfect match. The puppy, now calm and content in Seokmin’s arms, looks up at both of you, as if she knows she’s exactly where she’s meant to be.

"So," Seokmin starts softly, his voice still filled with wonder. "We’re doing this, huh?"

You smile, watching him cuddle the puppy like she’s the greatest thing he’s ever held. "Yeah," you say, voice soft. "We’re doing this."

send me an ask for my drabble game!

[lets-try-some-writing]

A fun concept,what if certain autobots/decepticons could open their faces like the animatronics in FNAF,I can see smokescreen pulling a foxy on The decepticons

Oooh I am here for this.

Transformation seams are present in every Cybertronian. Most of the time, their numbers and locations are limited, both depending on frame type and alt-mode. But occasionally, there are those who break the mold and have an excess. It's not necessarily a bad thing, often being compared to human hyperflexability when explained to the kids. But the excess seams do tend to have a few unintended side effects, such as the ability to move plating that would otherwise be stuck around the frame like a sticker to be peeled off and reapplied.

There are generally three different cases of excess seams coming into play outside of flexibility, usually in cosmetic fashions. First would be the ability to remove plating and get new armor entirely without pain. Around 5% of Cybertronians end up with this condition in some way or form and it is generally considered helpful since it allows for deeper cleaning of the protoform and temporary cosmetic changes without need for pain. The second case would be feral augmentation syndrome. Bots such as Orion Pax, those who grew up around animals or connected deeply with them and possessed the CNA for excess seams, have this condition. All it does it make their limbs more animalistic. Their jaws can open wider due to their facial protoform being highly segmented to allow for further stretch. Additionally, they are able to run on all fours perfectly comfortably due to being able to shift their plating around.

The last case, however, is the most terrifying. It is generally called proto-masking syndrome, and is only found in a starting 1% of those who come out with excess seams. Severity varies, the most minor cases leaving bots with the ability to contort their faces and mess with the metal. Severe cases allow bots to remove or transform their faces away without pain or issue. This is the one most find frightening.

Smokescreen happens to fall within this severe category of those afflicted with proto-masking syndrome. He doesn't know that he is weird and assumes almost everyone can do what he does, but simply fails to act out in large part due to politeness. As such, he doesn't transform his face away often, if at all. But when agitated, or trying to prove a point, he does instinctually transform his facial plating, and the very first time he did it for a Decepticon, horror stories formed instantly.

The bots have said exactly nothing about it to Smokescreen since it's not an issue and generally, it isn't nearly as unsettling as some of the things they've seen. But the Vehicons? They regard Smokescreen as the spark eater. The Autobots pet hunter. They try to keep clear of him as much as possible, especially when he transforms his face away. When that happens, they all assume he's going to eat them and bolt for safety.

Smokescreen is of the belief that he's just that good of a warrior. No one has seen fit to correct him yet. The kids haven't witnessed it yet and so have made no commentary. Bulkhead dreads the day they eventually see Smokey without his face. That will be a LONG conversation.