#i’m fuckin exhausted already rip

[twinknote]

i need to process a dream i just woke up from, cw ableism, shitty family dynamics, emo abuse mention

so i was at my grandma’s house (which is already emotional, she’s been gone for many years now and that house was the setting for most of my favorite family memories) and me and my brother and dad had just gotten back from walking around and getting food. i had decided to lay down in bed for a bit because i was crashing from being out

my aunt ellen (who irl is actually very nice) came in and was chewing me out and telling me how disrespectful it was for me to be ignoring family members who wanted to spend time with me

and i advocated for myself like a bad bitch, i was like Ma’am i literally have a disability called Chronic Fatigue Syndrome and i don’t think it’s disrespectful for me to need to rest and take care of myself

at some point i had to go to the bathroom and ran into my cousin leah (who i love, i’m surprised it wasn’t her sister emily who i’m closer with irl but i think it goes to prove a point that i will get to later) and she was upset and crying because she recognized that ellen was being unfair and mean to me. she hugged me and was like i totally think she’s overreacting, you don’t deserve that

i went back to bed and my dad came into the room and tried explaining ellen’s pov to me and i tried explaining mine but he kept not really listening to me. i also kept hearing family members outside the door talking abt me and misgendering me

eventually i made it downstairs since leah needed to get back to her kids and i wanted to say goodbye and thank her. ellen immediately accused me of doing smth i didn’t do and i was firing back snappy responses to her and she seemed to be getting tired of it after a while

leah and i hugged and were laughing that she was being so weird and unreasonable.

ok so obviously this kinda shook me but i have a likely interpretation of what the dream actually meant. i’ve been really struggling to communicate w family members (there are several who i really need and Want to respond to but my anxiety has a grip on my throat). and i think this dream was my brain’s way of saying Hey, this is what you Think family members are going to treat you like (ellen) and this is how real family members will actually show up for you (leah). my cousins and my dad who i actually want to respond to have always been nothing but unconditionally nice and caring to me.

And i really want to emphasize to myself that the fear my brain is clinging to is actually so valid and real bc the way ellen treated me in the dream is literally how my mom has treated me so many times. she’s such a manipulative narcissistic emotional abuser and i’ve spent most of my life trying to stay on her good side. my fear of being treated poorly by family isn’t irrational or stupid, it’s literally lived experience and it makes me terrified to be emotionally vulnerable with family members.

BUT. i’m insanely proud of my dream self for actually advocating for myself and sticking to what i know is right for my body??? like look at him go??? i typically have such a fawn response and in my dream i was like Nope i’m fighting, bitch. and i LOVE that for me

anyway moral of the story is that maybe reaching out to family will actually be a positive experience and even if anyone says anything sus (which would probably be my dad out of ignorance) i have the strength and ability to inform them of my perspective!!!

[gudfornuthin]

All I’ve Ever Wanted

Season 4!Five Hargreeves x fem!reader

! Spoilers ahead !

Summary: six years of travelling to different timelines, and Five isn’t sure how much longer he can go on for. Until he stumbles upon a greenhouse, full of strawberries. And you.

Word count: 4212

A/N: so season 4 was a… thing that happened. This story is basically my own idea of how things should’ve gone in ep 5. Instead of the weird Lila/Five situation, it’s just Five, and his chance of living a normal life with someone new. Hope you all enjoy, and feedback is appreciated :)

Number Five was never one to back down from a challenge. Having been through a series of different apocalyptic events, transporting to a timeline where he spent 40 years alone, and dealing with a misfit group consisting of his exhausting siblings, Five was up for anything. But the current situation he was dealing with? For the first time in his life, he was at breaking point.

After another wasted day spending hour after hour searching for any clues or information on how to get back to the correct timeline, Five returns to the subway, entering one of the compartments and slumping down in the first chair he sees. He rubs his eyes and lets out a visceral sigh, wanting nothing more than to go to sleep. He reaches into his pockets, pulling out a small pack of dried fruits. He rips it open and devours every last piece. He can’t remember the last time he had a proper meal. He was becoming more desperate, rummaging through trash cans and foraging in bushes, hoping anything he picks isn’t poisonous.

The compartment jolts and begins to move, making its way to the next timeline. Five wipes his hands on his already dirty pants, standing up and walking slowly to the door. He wonders whether his apocalypse counterpart will be waiting for him this time.

After several minutes, and Five almost falling over from his lack of sleep, he finally arrives, the doors opening. He steps out, immediately making his way up the stairs. No time to waste. He cautiously pokes his head out, looking around for any signs of, well, himself. Before he can move out more, something wizzes past his head. A bullet. He ducks, as more shots are fired directly at him.

“Give me a fuckin’ break,” Five mumbles, as he finally takes notices of the other him in the distance.

He sticks up his middle finger, and no soon after closes his fists, blinking as quick as he possibly could.

The Five with a gun disappears along with the destroyed world around him. Five drops his arms to his sides, turning around and admiring the new environment. Luscious, greenery surrounds him, with an array of different flowers sprouting from the ground beneath him. A small pond with fish glimmers in the sunshine, lily pads floating on top. He continues turning, finding himself standing next to a tall greenhouse. The glass was slightly foggy, making it difficult to see what’s inside. Five leans in closer, squinting as if that would help. He can barely make out what appears to be pots of fruit and vegetables, some fully sprouted and others not yet ripe. His stomach rumbles, the feeling of hunger consuming him.

A rustle sounds from behind him. He turns quickly, coming face to face with a pair of shears. Five jumps back slightly. He then spots the person wielding said ‘weapon’. A young woman, probably early twenties, wearing a light yellow dress and a pair of brown sandals. Five can’t help but admire her beauty, if it wasn’t for the fact she had a face like fury and didn’t seem afraid of cutting him in half.

“Can I help you?” Her words are kind, but her harsh tone says otherwise.

Five can’t exactly tell this young woman the truth. Showing up randomly in her back yard, covered in grime, gawking at her crops through the window. He raises his hands up in the air, trying to convey that he meant no harm.

“I’m so sorry,” he says, his throat sore having not spoken to anyone in quite some time. “I don’t really know how I got here.” That’s not exactly true. “I’ve been travelling for a few days now.” Try six years. “And I could really do with a hot shower and something to eat.”

The woman doesn’t say anything, just staring, with the shears still held out in front of her.

Five puts his arms down, shrugging in defeat. “I’ll just go. I truly am sorry, I didn’t mean to freak you out.” He looks down. “Or step all over your rose garden.” He gingerly moves away from the destroyed flowers.

He turns and begins to walk away, hoping to find an exit as quick as possible. Blinking in front of this woman probably wouldn’t help his cause. A warm hand grabs hold of his wrist, forcing him to stop and look back. She has the shears loosely hanging by her side, as her eyes pierce into Five’s. She seems hesitant, words forming in her mind. At last, she speaks again.

“You’re telling the truth?”

Five nods incessantly, feeling like a child.

“And if I let you in and make you something to eat, you won’t try and kill me?”

Five holds back a laugh, knowing she’s being deadly serious. “I wouldn’t dare.”

The woman waits a beat, then huffs. “Come on, I was just about to start dinner.”

She moves past Five, walking into three greenhouse. He takes this as a sign to follow after her.

***

The young woman allows Five to use her shower, and he’s thankful for the change of clothes she provides for him too. The home is small and cosy, playing into the stereotypical cottage core of living. The lighting is soft, and the smell of pumpkin seems to waft through into every room. It’s calming, it’s peaceful, it’s something that makes Five feel on edge. He isn’t used to the domestic life, away from the terror and destruction, trying to save the world over and over. He knows he can’t stay here long, but he won’t miss the opportunity of a proper cooked meal.

After putting on the change of clothes, Five makes his way down the hall and into the kitchen, a small buffet waiting for him. He finds it hard not to drool, the potatoes and fresh pie, along with the fruit and vegetables he’d spotted earlier. It looks incredible. He takes a seat, as the woman places down a final plate of tomatoes, sitting down opposite Five.

They dish out the food, filling their plates as high as they can, especially Five. He tries not to look like a slob in front of the pretty girl, but finds it hard not to drop some things down his top. She doesn’t seem to notice, or pretends not to.

The woman takes a sip of her drink, clearing her throat. “So,” her soft voice makes Five look up from his plate. “Do you have a name or is that one of the many mysteries of the man shovelling food down his throat like he hasn’t eaten in several years?”

The woman isn’t afraid of being upfront. Five admires that. Although, it’s not surprising considering he’s a complete stranger she’s trusted in her home. He puts down his knife and fork, grabbing a napkin to wipe his mouth.

“No, I have a name. It’s Fi-,” he catches himself, unsure if his ‘name’ would just create more confusion, and unwanted questions. “Jerome. Just, Jerome.”

The woman squints her eyes, but doesn’t push further, seeming to move past his stumble. “Okay. I wouldn’t have pegged you for a Jerome.”

Five shrugs, not knowing what else to say.

“My names Y/N.”

Five nods. “Okay. We’re closer already.”

“Don’t push it,” Y/N says, a small smile gracing her face. Five can’t help but pull the same expression.

***

After a hearty dinner, and some obvious awkward silences, Five insists on helping Y/N do the washing up. The sun was beginning to set, and Five knows he’ll have to leave soon, but something stops him from doing so. He doesn’t want to admit it, but this was the most relaxed he’d felt in a long time. The fear or worry of something bad happening wasn’t there, and as he stands close to the woman he had barely met 2 hours ago, he realises what he’d been missing in his 60 something years. A place to live, with a person who makes him feel safe.

“Jerome,” the voice breaks through his thoughts, as Five almost forgets the name he’d given to this woman. “I feel like we’ve skirted around the topic enough. Is there any reason you were in the state you were in, taking refuge behind my greenhouse?”

Five places down the plate he was cleaning, turning to face her fully. Her expression is calm, and her voice shows no sign of interrogation. It’s a first for Five, as he’s become accustomed to people prodding him for information only for their own benefit. No one’s ever shown true interest in him.

He shrugs. “It’s been a tough couple of years. More than that I guess.” Fives eyes glaze over. “I haven’t seen my family in a long time, and I don’t know if I ever will. And if I do, I’m terrified of the state that I’ll find them in.”

Y/N stops what she’s doing, also turning to look at Five, a look of worry taking over her face. He knows he’s said more than he should have, but he couldn’t help it. He’s not good at sharing his feelings, and when he does, he’s scared of what will happen once the flood gates are opened. He isn’t sure if he’ll ever be able to close them.

“What d’you mean? Are they in some kind of trouble?” She asks, a slight shake in her voice. “Are you in trouble?”

Five shakes his head, not wanting to stress out this poor woman who’s been nothing but doting to him. “No! No, I just,” he sighs, knowing he’s really put his foot in it. “I just care about them, a lot. Too much. And I don’t even want to think about not seeing them again.”

A soft hand brushes against Five’s cheek, as he glances at Y/N wiping a tear away from his face. He didn’t even realise he’d started crying. He sniffles, moving away and rubbing at his eyes, fearing how red they may look. He sucks in a deep breath, calming his beating heart. Whether it’s from talking about his family, or the touch from the woman next to him, he isn’t sure. But he fears he’s overstayed his welcome.

Five moves away from the kitchen counter. “I guess I should probably go. Don’t wanna miss my train.” Although he knows they’ll always be one there waiting for him.

He heads for the door, remembering to go upstairs and collect his dirty clothes before he leaves. Footsteps are heard from behind him.

“Uh,” Five swivels back around, as Y/N hesitates over her words. “This may seem kinda forward, and a dangerous move on my part, but, I wouldn’t be able to sleep tonight knowing you were out there in the middle of the night, traveling by yourself.”

Five holds his breath, not wanting to jump the gun, but already anticipating the next sentence out of her mouth.

“I have extra pillows, and blankets.” Y/N shrugs. “It’s not the most comfortable couch but I’d say it’s more comfortable than the chairs on the train.”

Neither of them speak for a while. Five ponders her offer over and over, wondering if this is something he wants to decline. He needs to get back to his family. He needs to get back to help them. But so far, every option has been a bust. He’s not sure how much longer he can go on for. It could be the apocalypse all over again. Stuck for 40 years, traveling none stop, unsure if he’ll ever see his loved ones again. Could a good nights sleep really be such a bad thing?

He thinks the risk is worth it. “As long as it’s not too much trouble for you.”

***

That one good nights sleep turned into three months, staying at Y/N’s home, crashing on her couch. It didn’t stop Five from going out, back to the subway, trying to find the possible solution to his six year problem. But the more time he spent with the woman, the less time he wanted to spend away from her. They grew closer, making meals together, gardening together, watching silly romcoms together. While Y/N taught Five how to bake, Five taught her how to fight. A young woman living by herself? It didn’t hurt knowing some basic defence skills.

Five didn’t want to admit it, but his family hadn’t crossed his mind as often as it usually did before he met Y/N. He’d become soft, wanting to be around her all the time, not wanting to visit the subway as often as he should be. He’s lucky enough to call her a friend. He hopes she calls him that too.

***

It’s late, and Y/N is sat on the couch, crocheting a few pairs of gloves and a long overdue jumper. People used to make fun of her for it, calling her an old lady, but she finds it soothing. And making your own clothes is a big bonus too. Five, or Jerome as she knew him, had been out most of the day. She never questioned what he was up to, only that he returned safe, ready for whatever she’d cooked up for him during the day. She wasn’t completely naive in thinking ‘Jerome’ has involved himself in shady business. But unless he plans on telling her, then she won’t bother pushing him on the matter.

A bang echos from the back of the house, specifically inside the geeenhouse. It makes Y/N jump up from her seated position, quickly rushing out to the source of the noise. It can only be one person, or that’s what she hopes. Either way, she grabs for her shears before entering the warm glass room.

“Jerome?” She whispers, watching her step, the only light in the room coming from the moon through the windows.

A muffled groaning reaches her ears, as Y/N blindly moves her hands over the walls, trying to find the light switch. She finally does, and flicks it on. A sharp gasp comes out of her mouth, as the brightness finally reveals her new friend curled in a ball on the floor, rolling in pain.

“Shit.”

She quickly makes her way over to him, delicately wrapping her arms around his waist and slowly helping him off the floor. He stumbles, knocking into a few pots, almost making them fall off the table.

“Sorry,” he mumbles, the word slurring under his breath.

“Don’t apologise,” she says, making sure he’s steady on his feet. “Let’s just get you inside and onto the couch.”

They make their way through into the living room, Five dropping haphazardly onto the soft cushions, while Y/N finally gets a proper look at him. His clothes are ripped, the once pristine suit (one she bought for him as a gift) now in tatters. His hair is sticking up in all different directions, and he’s clutching to his side like his life depends on it. She reaches for his arm, prying it away to reveal an array of bullet wounds, still bleeding.

“You should see the other guy,” Five jokes, tilting his head back and trying to forget about the burning pain running across his body. Funnily enough, if Y/N saw the other guy, he’d look exactly like him, considering this all happened due to an unfortunate run in with apocalypse Five.

Y/N stares at him with wide eyes. “Really? Look, I don’t bother asking where you go or what you’re up to when you leave this house, but I think now’s the time you tell me the truth.”

Five moves his head back down, looking her in the eyes. She’s terrified. And he hates that. He breathes in deep, taking her hand in his.

“If you can help me patch this shit up,” he briefly motions to his wounds, “then I’ll tell you who I really am.”

So that’s what they do. Y/N retrieves the first aid kit from her bathroom, while Five opens up about his life before he met her, and how he’s not from this timeline. He isn’t sure if she’s believing what he says, as she remains quiet the entire time, only occasionally looking up at him and quickly returning to removing the bullets lodged in his side. But she listens. And allows him to pour his heart out to her.

“The past six years were torture. Somehow worse than the forty I spent in the apocalypse.” Five turns his head and stares at the woman next to him, as she finishes up her work. “But these last few months with you. I could finally be normal. I could live a life most guys would kill to have. And I’m so sorry I lied to you this long.”

They fall into silence, the pair somehow closer together than they were a few minutes ago. Both emotionally, and physically. Y/N moves her hand and takes his, squeezing tightly. Five’s heartbeat picks up speed, only now noticing their close proximity.

“So your real name is ‘Five’?” He nods at her words. She nods back. “Hmm. It suits you a lot better than Jerome.”

They both laugh half heartedly, as they stare deeply into each other’s eyes. She moves her hand up to his hair, moving it out of his face, trying to calm it down slightly.

She carries on talking. “I can’t even begin to imagine what you’ve been through.” Five rolls his eyes. She doesn’t even know the half of it. “But if I can be the person to keep you grounded, for however long you’re here for, then I’m happy to do just that.”

Five smiles, glancing quickly at her lips.

She does the same. “And I hope you’re here for a long time.”

They both lean in, softly pressing their lips against each other’s. Five cups her face, deepening the kiss as Y/N rests her arms atop his shoulders. They move in sync, careful not to cause any more damage to Five’s wounds, as she somehow moves closer, one of her legs wrapping itself around his waist.

They don’t stop, clothes discarded, bodies intertwined, as their growing tension is finally broken. Five isn’t sure if he’ll ever get back to his timeline, but for now, he’s happy to call this place home.

***

Another four months, and still no sign of a way back. Although, Five can’t deny he hasn’t been trying as hard as usual. The peace and tranquillity has consumed him whole, falling into a proper routine with the woman he…

Is it love? Could he truly fall for someone like this? Someone who isn’t involved in the shit show he’s grown accustomed to? Someone who wants that quiet life, watering flowers and baking pies, with him? Maybe it’s what he needs.

Five stands in the greenhouse, picking some fresh strawberries, and trying a few to see if they were ripe. He’s already found the perfect recipe to use them in. Something he knows she’ll love.

As if reading his thoughts, a pair of arms slip around his waist. Y/N rests her chin on his shoulder, peaking over to see the basket full of fresh fruit. She picks one up, moving away and popping it in her mouth. Five turns and looks at her, smiling wide.

“They taste perfect,” she says.

Five takes her wrists, pulling her towards him and kissing her lightly. “So do you.”

She laughs, holding him close and breathing him in. “The cheesy lines don’t work on me, bub.”

“I think they do.” He mumbles, bringing her in for another kiss, sliding his hands up and down her back.

They stay like this for a while, holding each other in the warm glass room. The sun starts to set, as Five looks out and realises what time it is.

“Damn.”

She looks at him, confusion on her face. “What’s up?”

He shakes his head. “Nothing, I just need to do a double check of the subway before dinner.”

Y/N tries not to show her anxiousness, but some of it seeps through. After Five explained to her what the subway is and why he goes there every day, she’s terrified at the thought of him leaving and never coming back. But she knows he wouldn’t do that to her. Not without saying goodbye.

She steps back. “Right. Promise you’ll be safe?”

He kisses her on the cheek. “I promise.”

***

Five spends some time looking around the platform in the subway, checking the lights, checking the maps, even poking his head into the tunnels to see if anything has changed. But nothing. It all remains the same. No sign of his past life waiting for him. Was that such a bad thing?

Holding a small flashlight, he shines it up and down, left and right, hoping his eyes will catch something new. A sudden pop from above startles him, the grip he had on the flashlight loosening. It falls and rolls onto the tracks. Five looks up, noticing one of the bulbs now flickering. He huffs, moving to the edge of the platform and jumping down. He retrieves the flashlight, hitting it a few times to try and get it to work again. It comes to life, flashing in front of him. That’s when he spots something.

“That’s new.”

Five walks over, grabbing the mystery object and holding it up. It’s a plain notepad. He flips it open, scanning over the messy handwriting inside. His messy handwriting. He can’t help but let out a tiny gasp, as he figures out what it all means.

“This is it.” Tears form in his eyes. “This is my way back home.”

He’s shocked. He’s elated. He’s emotionally drained. This is his chance to rejoin his timeline. To see his family after so long. To fix the mess they’ve created. But all he can think about in this moment is Y/N. How the hell is he supposed to break the news to her?

***

After another hour spent pondering this new found information, Five slowly makes his way back home. His home. Where the life he’d built was waiting for him.

He enters the house and walks into the kitchen, where Y/N stands by the stove, boiling something sweet and caramelly. Five just stares at her; humming a random tune, wiping her messy hands on the apron he bought for her when her old one accidentally caught fire. That was the most stress he’d felt since coming here. And if that was the only stress he had to deal with, he’d take it every single day.

She finally turns and spots him, smiling wide. “Oh hey! I was worried for a sec, you were taking longer than expected.”

She moves closer to him, pulling him into a tight embrace. He holds her, not wanting to let go. Y/N can tell something isn’t right.

She leans back. “You okay?”

Five doesn’t reply, only holding the notepad out for her to take. She does so, flipping through the pages just like he did, her expression perplexed.

“I don’t understand-”

“It’s the way back to my timeline.”

She looks up at him, mouth slightly open, as her words fall short. Five can swear he hears her heartbeat speed up, as her breathing becomes erratic. Five isn’t sure what to do, waiting for an explosion of emotions to rain down on him. But nothing comes. Neither of them do or say anything.

Five chooses to break the silence. “I don’t wanna lose you. I can’t. I don’t think I could live the way I used to live. Not after living this life with you.”

Y/N bites her lip, suppressing a sob. “You have to go.”

Five furrows his brow, hoping he heard her wrong. He tilts her head up to stare into her eyes, seeing the tears forming.

“No,” he whispers. “You’ve become the most important thing in my life. The thought of never seeing you again, I can’t do that.”

A tear falls down her cheek, as Five reaches out to wipe it away.

“I’d love nothing more than to stay in this little bubble we’ve created,” she replies, finding it hard to keep her voice steady. “But your family, your timeline, all those people? They need you more than I do. And I know deep down, you can’t bear the thought of letting them die, knowing you could’ve helped.”

Five wants to ask her to come with him. Become apart of his family. He knows she’d get on with them all. And they’d all love her, possibly more than they love him. But he knows it’s cruel to ask her to leave her life behind. The house, the garden, the home that she’s worked so hard on. And the thought of throwing her into the thick of it all. Putting her at danger? No chance.

He pulls her into his embrace, kissing her hard. They hold each other tight, their lips bruising as neither of them can stop the tears from falling.

Y/N is the first to pull away. “If you ever get the chance to come back to this timeline, you know where to find me.”

Five smiles, not wanting to let her go. He kisses her once more. “In the greenhouse, tasting just as sweet as the strawberries.”

[rainrot4me]

Three’s A Crowd

Summary: Video games can be emotionally intense, especially when you’re butting heads with the two idiots yelling at each other. So when Jeff and Ben decide to break their tie in another way, you find yourself in the wrong place at the wrong time: right in the middle.

Characters: Ben Drowned x Female Reader x Jeff the Killer

SMUT WARNING MINORS DNI

TW: Using a controller as a vibrator, threesome, fingering, toxic, Ben pressures you lowkey, embarrassment, power struggle, vaginal, creampie, cum mixing, competition, eating out, Jeff and Ben flirt, dub-con, pining, suppressed emotions, jealousy, jealousy sex, angry sex, insults, overstimulation

Words: 5.3k

In your opinion, video games sucked.

Correction: The games themselves didn’t suck. The way they made the residents of the mansion act, sucked. 

It was so unruly. Screaming, throwing the controllers, weapons being whipped out at a poorly timed insult, they had no restraint. Everyone was pretty bad, yourself included, but Jeff and Ben were worst of all. The two idiots didn’t have respect for a single thing in their lives, and that principle carried over now as you were hunched between them on the shabby couch in the living room. 

It was well into the night, and most of the creeps were either asleep or out on a mission for Slender, so the boys ruled they could be as reckless as they wanted without consequence. Jeff had hauled you along too, ripping you from your comfortable bed to act as a witness to whoever won the match of Mario Kart. However, six rounds later, the two of them were leaning forward heavily and cursing at every bad move. Elbows perched on knees as the bright glow from the TV cast a haze over the room, your phone distracting you as they shoved and bumped into your curled-up body. “One more shell and I’m punching you.” Ben grit, Jeff laughed.

Ben was playing as Link, obviously, but Jeff was heavily set on playing as Rosalina because she’s “emo and fuckin’ hot”. You thought it was crude, but as the little princess chucked another blue turtle shell as Link, Jeff secured his win, tying the boys up. Three each, no clear winner and the exhaustion was starting to set in as you gazed at the bright TV. “Aw, sucks. Guess we’ll never know.” You chime, tugging yourself off of the couch and beginning to make your way up to your room and away from the already obnoxious arguing that followed. A calloused hand was quick to drag you back, hauling your ass back into the cushion you had been in for hours. 

“Nope. All or nothin’.” Jeff smiled, settling back into the armrest of the couch as Ben loaded another round, the loud whistles and bells chiming obnoxiously as they gripped their controllers. You groaned, shrugging back into the crook of the cushions as the boys pressed close to you, occasionally slapping at each other’s thighs and elbowing you a little too hard as they sped through obstacles. It was irritating, you becoming agitated every time one of their curses rang a little too loud in your ear. Ben was winning, sending Jeff into an utter panic and standing up, knocking you on the side of the head as he threw his elbows out in an attempt to steer clear of the giant tar pit in front of him. That did it for you.

“Okay. Fuck this.” You stood up, shoving Jeff to the side as you grabbed the remote to the TV and powered it off, their yells following as the bright light faded. “What the fuck?!” Ben snapped, throwing his hands in the air and standing next to Jeff now, who looked equally as shocked. 

“You’ve done nothing but yell in my ear all night! Either find some other way to settle your score, or just get over yourselves!” You grit, slamming the remote back down and aiming to walk towards the stairs, shoving your phone into your pocket as you stomp off. Ben laughed, your phone becoming suddenly very hot in your pocket and making you hiss, grabbing it and throwing it down onto the floor. Jeff was cackling, Ben smiling as you scowled at him, his dark eyes bright against the re-appearing glow of the TV as it suddenly switched back on. “Fucker.” You growled. They both just chuckled, grabbing their controllers again and restarting the game where it left off. “Now, either come sit down, or your phone explodes next.” The elf chitted, patting the spot on the sofa next to him teasingly.

Swearing, you sat back down, shoving your phone onto the coffee table in front of you and begrudgingly refocusing on the bright game, Jeff now taking the lead. The race was quick, Ben coming out on top in the end and sending the pale killer to call for another round, to which you responded with a groan. “Sit tight, gonna grab a drink.” The dark-headed man huffed, tossing the controller onto your lap and heading off into the kitchen, the little device buzzing and lighting up every time Ben clicked on his own. It was a weird sensation, the vibrations tickling your skin as you watched the screen, Ben focused on readying a match again. “This thing vibrates?” You laughed, pushing around the joysticks and smiling when the device buzzed deep as the car engines on the screen revved. Ben smiled, teasingly nudging your arm as he sat back into the cushion, resting his on controller on his leg. “Yeah, not as good as yours though.” He teasingly glared.

You cringed, Ben’s perverted little mouth taking over as he snickered, your face growing hot. “Not funny.” You hissed, shoving the controller off of your lap and onto Jeff’s empty seat, the little buzzing seeming a lot less cute now. The room was awkward now, at least on your end, but Ben just kept laughing, even as Jeff reemerged from the kitchen and plopped back down onto the sofa, giving you both a questioning look before readjusting as you shook your head. 

The boys started up again, you now keenly aware of just how much they were touching you. Thighs pressed side by side, shoulders nudging, Ben’s hands moving the controller down just a little too close to your scrunched-up legs as he raced; his comment had made you very agitated, your mind swirling the comment every time you heard the deep vibration of the little devices. Ben noticed, or at least, pretended like he wasn’t planning it all along. The elf had used his comment wisely, pushing you just the right amount into uncomfortable just to get your blood flowing, but not pushing you away. Truth was, he knew it was personal, knew all too well from the small hum of your vibrator through his walls, your little huffs and whines pushing through the wood and right into his pointed ears. He liked those nights, the nights where he could secretly send his influence and make the vibrator speed up suddenly, the hum becoming louder as your little voice followed, forcing you into an orgasm that he secretly caused. It was his favorite thing, pushing you, unknowingly under his whim. But now, he had the chance to actually pursue it, pursue you. 

Jeff was your friend, he was the whole reason you were down here. He had nonchalantly pleaded with you to be their little witness and sit in on the game, and Ben knew if he wanted to get to you, you’d need Jeff there to accompany the ride. You two weren’t lovers, but Ben accepted the fact that if he wanted to make his fantasies a reality, he was going to have to share. If only for tonight. This rang true even as he subtly pressed his thigh closer against yours, but you instinctually slid your legs closer to Jeff, your weight slowly shifting onto his shoulder as he shifted with you. Ben side-eyed hard, quietly nagging himself as he lost track of what he was doing and slipped off the map. Jeff howled, playfully slapping your leg and teasing the elf about paying attention. But he was done with this game, his focus had left that screen and was now locked onto you, along with his subtle jealousy that struck as you nestled against Jeff even further.

“You get any closer to him you’ll be sitting on his dick.” Ben mocked, flicking the game off with a little twitch of his finger and letting the bright TV glow illuminate your already flushed face. You gawked at him, brows furrowed as your face grew hot, looking at Jeff as he just laughed. “What the fuck, man?” The killer half laughed half cringed, glancing at you but tossing the controller onto the coffee table to avoid the awkwardness of being pressed against you now. You read it, shifting off of him as Ben moved to face you, crossing his arms with a sour look. “No, go ahead [Y/N], show Jeff how bad you want it. Y’know, since apparently I’m not funny anymore.” He grilled, nudging you closer to Jeff until you literally had to push your hands against his chest to stop the elf from climbing on top of you. Jeff didn’t think it was funny anymore either, shoving Ben’s shoulder and telling him to chill out as he pressed further, grabbing the controller off of the couch and shoving your back down against the killer’s legs awkwardly. “I’ll just do it myself then.” 

Ben was shoving himself between your legs now, pressing your thighs open and forcing his hands between as Jeff tried to adjust, trying to pull you up but being forced behind you as the elf pushed down. “Ben. What the hell are you doing?” He was blushing, despite his aggressive gaze now the killer was stunned, and Ben could see it. His hands pushed deeper, a twitch of his eyebrow all it took to send the little device in his hand roaring, a deep rumbling sounding as he pushed it closer to your clothed cunt. You panicked, reaching down to stop Ben but the controller was already whirring against your shorts, sending your back arching off of Jeff’s legs and the blonde smiling wickedly. “May not be fun, but you sure do seem to enjoy yourself a lot because of me.” 

“Wha-“ You gasped, clawing back into Jeff’s jeans as he watched, unable to help as his face grew hot, eyes flickering across the scene. You tried to sit up, but Jeff’s hands were on you now, wrapping under your arms and hauling you between his legs, letting Ben work the controller’s handle against your clothed clit as his hands rubbed your body. This was embarrassing, you squirming and writhing against the feeling of the device harshly vibrating against you, the power a direct reflection of Ben’s emotions. It was hard and rough, your gasps and writhing groans making Ben all the more excited as he looked up at Jeff, his expression conflicted between discomforted and getting terribly turned on. “Go on, Jeffrey. Get on with it or leave, either way, I’m making her cum.” You hissed, jerking as the controller handle nudged hard onto your clit, reaching to grab Jeff’s arms that were wrapped around you, clawing into them for some relief.

The killer was conflicted, breathing heavily above you as he watched you come apart, hips jerking with every shove Ben gave of the device. “She said we should break our tie some other way. I say we just found the perfect solution.” The elf smirked. Jeff didn’t particularly know what he was doing, but Ben’s glare and your desperate eyes burning into the killer clicked something, all of his embarrassment washing out as he slid his hands up your shirt, a satisfied chuckle ringing from the blond. “Atta boy.” You were shifting, trying to pry Jeff's hands off as he tugged up your shirt over your bra, body tense as you felt Ben’s fingers slip under your shorts, too. “Guys- Wait-” But they weren't listening, didn’t care to anyway as they hauled your clothes off of your body, sharing hungry looks between the other as your bare skin felt hot and sticky against their rough hands. It was addicting.

Jeff had never particularly thought of you in that way, always seeing you as some stability that he could rely on, but never something he found he desired. You were pretty, beautiful even, but there was always this tension he couldn’t get past. He realized it now though, as he tugged your bra off of your tits and slid the fabric over your head, he knew that tension was just his buried frustration about you. He was never good with emotions anyway, especially his own. “Fuck…” He groaned as he palmed your flesh, your hard nipples satisfying to roll between the pads of his fingers. Goosebumps rose against your skin as your panties were pulled off of your ankles, and tossed aside as Ben reached for the controller again, the familiar buzzing desperately guiding you to shut your legs, but the elf’s hands were already prying them open. They were both chuckling, their hands palmed down hard all over your skin as Ben pressed the handle back to your clit, the bare contact sending your back shooting off of Jeff’s lap with a groan. The vibration was horrible now, squelching and rubbing shakily as your cunt ached, arousal building and clawing its way through. Ben’s eyes were locked on you, gauging your every reaction and slightly contorting the intensity of the device to tug cute little whines from your lips, his bulge growing annoying fast against you.

Jeff was too, his jeans becoming tight against your back as he pulled your nipples up, massaging your tits until you were clawing at his arms, whining for him to be easier. He wouldn’t, it just wasn’t his style, wasn’t what he craved. “Feel good, princess?” Ben hissed, nudging his hips under your thighs and letting his bulge rut against your bare ass, his sweatpants rough against your bare skin. Jeff groaned, rolling his eyes and he pulled you up, positioning under you and letting your back rest against his chest, his hips jerking his bulge against the small of your back. “Princess? Really?” He scoffed, reaching his hand to tug your chin to the side, giving him access to your neck and pecking at the hot skin. Ben glared, the aggression between the two shows in their actions as the controller upped its intensity, handle buzzing hard against your swollen clit, sending you sobbing. Jeff answered with a tight tug of your jaw, biting into the side of your neck just enough to make you panic. They were competing, trying to see who could better stake their claim. You cursed yourself mentally for letting yourself be their solution.

“Well, princess? Answer me, c’mon.” Ben smiled, ignoring the pale killer and letting his hands splay on your waist, your legs wrapped around his waist as he worked the controller in small motions, contorting your clit desperately. You felt like you couldn’t get a stable breath, let alone speak, but the boys listened expectantly, Jeff’s breathing hot against the crook of your neck as he licked against the welts he had created. “I think- Ah- I think I’m close-” You craned, moaning as Ben slid his opposite hand down, running his fingers through the slick between your folds, spreading your arousal against your inner thighs. You groaned as he nudged his fingers into your cunt, spreading the digits against your clenching entrance and pushing his knuckles deeper. You craned, spreading your thighs at the relief of his fingers pushing against your walls, giving good relief to the vibration of the controller still heavy on your throbbing clit. You moaned heartily, jaw hanging open as you threw your head back against Jeff’s shoulder, his fingers quick to press from your jaw and find their way into your lips, pinching at your tongue. 

Closing your eyes, you sucked on the digits, letting Ben work his fingers deep into your cunt and tug your arousal further, Jeff gasping as you slid your tongue desperately. They were both watching, lost in the way your face looked flushed and sweaty, your hair clinging to your face and tears pricking against your eyelids. They were groaning, rutting their clothed cocks against your body until your skin felt raw, arching into the way the controller pulsed against you now, jutting your hips. Popping Jeff’s fingers out of your mouth, you cried out, cunt clenching and throbbing as Ben twisted his knuckles up into the gumminess of your walls. “Oh God- ‘Mm cummin- Ben-” You babbled, the boys adjusting quickly under you and prodding and pulling however they could, aiming to see who could nudge you over that last edge. Jeff’s teeth locked against the side of your jaw, his grunts loud in your ear as he twisted your nipples, hauling your orgasm to come crashing into you. “There you go babygirl, cum on his fingers,” Jeff grunted, licking your cheek as the deep red spot grew against your skin, your hands clasping against his arms as he hugged them around you. You were rolling your hips, chasing Ben’s fingers as he slowly pumped them out of you, gathering your slick and spreading it across your sensitive folds, eyes heavy on you. The controller’s rumbling died out, the handle glistening with your arousal and tossed to the side, the elf’s hands hooking around your waist and hauling you closer on his hips. “Good job, princess…” 

Ben leaned forward, steadying his weight on top of you as he pressed a kiss against your swollen lips, his tongue pushing itself into your mouth. You whined, sucking on his tongue and panting against his skin as you kissed him sloppily, slobber spreading across your skin. Jeff grumbled, wrapping his arms tighter around your chest and nudging his head into the crook of your neck, kissing against your ear and licking stripes against your shoulder. Even as they were pleasing you, their focus was on each other, their hands pushing against the other’s shoulder or nudging their knees out of the way; it was possessive and mean, you trapped right in the middle. Jeff popped off your neck, shoving Ben’s face off of yours as the blond’s hand wrapped in the killer’s messy hair and tugged him away from you, their growls echoing above you as they glared. You were still dazed, cunt still throbbing from your orgasm as Jeff hauled you up, pushing his back against the couch and setting you onto his lap, right on top of his bulge. “My turn.” He grit, a low rumble in his chest as he forcefully knots your hips down onto the swell in his jeans, Ben fussing in his ear but moving in front of you all the same. 

Even through their arguing they worked together, Ben helping to tug your hips up as Jeff reached around to unclasp his belt, letting his cock fling out of his jeans and rest against your soppy cunt. You hissed, the pale killer shifting his hips to let his length spread between your folds, your previous orgasm spreading across his cock. “I’ll fuck ya like you deserve, babygirl. Not with some fuckin’ Nintendo controller.” Ben glared, kneeling between Jeff's legs and pressing close to your cunt, fingers nudging against your tired clit, hauling your body back to life. Jeff positioned, nudging his cock head against your entrance, but your hands flung down, pushing both of them away. “If you two can’t act right, you’re not gonna be doing anything. Jesus, you can’t even fuck without arguing.” You spoke between pants, glaring at the two of them as they sat stunned, looking at the other. “Fine.” Jeff grit, rolling his eyes as he hooked his hands under your knees again, hauling them back and up to spread your cunt wide. You hissed, leaning back against him as Ben repositioned, swiping your hands away and nudging his thumb back onto your clit. 

Jeff rested his chin on your shoulder, breathing in your scent as he gripped his cock, nudging the head back against your entrance, flicking against your wetness. You rolled your hips, trying to get him to press in but Ben’s fingers tugged your clit up, making your hips follow with a whine. Jeff grumbled, tugging your legs back further and eventually nudging his hips up to connect with your entrance, slowly pushing in as you stretched around him. “Oh- Oh, my-” You mewled, throwing your head back to rest against the killer’s shoulder, reaching forward to grip Ben’s shoulders for stability as he pressed in. The elf gleamed, letting his hands wrap around your thighs as he pressed forward, pressing his tongue against your clit. You whined, shock writhing as Jeff shifted his hips up, letting the head of his cock nudge deep inside of you and stretch your walls thin, his grunts strained against your shoulder. Ben lapped at your folds, sucking your clit generously as Jeff bottomed out, letting your cunt rest on his balls as he pulsed inside of you, your eyes fluttering shut at the fullness. “Get your fuckin’ tongue off my dick, elf.” The killer grit, cringing at the feeling of Ben’s warm tongue lapping at the base of his dick as he focused on soaking in the taste of your swollen clit. He chuckled, popping off of the swollen nub and replacing it with his thumb, rubbing small circles and looking into the other’s wide eyes. “Be nice, remember?” He teased, pressing his face back in and sucking on your clit, careless to Jeff’s curses every time his tongue passed over the salty taste of the killer’s cock nestled inside of you. 

Grunting, Jeff got over it, hauling your legs higher and pulling them further apart, sighing at the stretch of your walls around him as you throbbed. He twisted his hips up, pressing his feet into the hardwood floor and pushing his cock up into your cunt, thrusting slowly as Ben worked your clit. “Shit…” He sighed, rolling his hips back down before pulsing back up. You moaned deep, hands messing up into Ben’s hair and tugging him closer as he swiped his tongue through your folds, practically trying to push the muscle into your entrance as well. Jeff kissed your shoulder, whispering unheard words as the sound of squelching and slapping filled the room, your cunt soaked and crying with pleasure every time the cock inside you pushed against your walls. “Tastes so good, ohmygods-” Ben clenched, grunting as you tugged his face back against your cunt the moment he let off, pushing his tongue back against your folds. He smiled against you, pushing his tongue up into the leftover space of your soaked cunt along with Jeff’s cock, lapping up every ounce of arousal that spilt onto his chin, fingers pulling your wet lips apart. The killer whined a ragged noise as the pressure of your cunt grew, strangling his length as the tongue felt so nice against the underside of his cock. He dug his nails into the underside of your knees, turning his face to catch your lips with his own as you moaned, gasping into his mouth. The noises you made were so pretty, muffled so nicely against his tongue as he wrapped it with yours. 

It was all so messy. Spit running down Ben’s chin, Jeff panting and moaning into your mouth the harder he thrust, your whines sobbed between kisses. Everything was so overwhelming, your cunt being pushed and stretched further than you could really handle. “So tight, baby. Jesus, you’re squeezin’ me awful.” Jeff growled against your swollen lips, biting the plump flesh and tugging his cock out all the way to the head just to thrust right back up again. Ben hummed again your cunt, swallowing you and relishing in the taste, begging for more as Jeff’s cock pushed more out, soaking his tongue. “Hurry up and cum, Jeffrey… My turn…” He mumbled against your puffy lips clenching around his lips so nicely, flicking his tongue against your clit again to force you into an orgasm. His cock hurt against his boxers, pushing desperately to get inside of you as he watched Jeff’s schlick in and out raggedly, glossy with your wetness. He reached down, undoing his sweatpant strings and pushing the waistband below his balls, quickly fisting his cock and jerking, precum dribbling down the length. “Fuck off…” Jeff grit, groaning as your entrance pulsed around him when he angled his hips forward. Ben rolled his eyes, standing up and pushing between your legs, cock in hand as he nudges himself down. He couldn’t wait any longer. 

Pressing a knee into the space between Jeff’s spread legs, Ben pushes the head of his cock between your spread folds, every bounce of your hips down onto Jeff’s cock forcing the blond’s cockhead to nudge against your clit, making you whine. Ben cursed, your slick gliding across the underside of his length and rubbing him as he reached to grip your tits, massaging the mounds as Jeff glared. 

The stimulation was too much, cunt overwhelmed as Jeff thrust harder, trying desperately to prove you could cum without the elf’s help. He let go of your legs, wrapping his arms around your waist and digging his face into your neck, biting down. You cried, hands pressed against his arms and clawing at his skin, legs curling around Ben’s waist as you sobbed, cunt aching and all too sensitive. Skin slapped loudly, juices squelching, and messy slobber hanging on your lips, babbling. You swelled, cockhead still against your clit and nudging you to an orgasm, rolling your eyes back as Jeff clenched his teeth into your skin, groaning his own. He didn’t slow down though, hips pulsing just as fast as he spilt into you, syrupy walls clenching tightly around the girth and milking him, pulsing with every twitch inside. “Jesus…” Ben gasped, fisting his cock as he watched your face flush, heavy eyes zoning out as you felt light, rolling your hips lazily to ride out your orgasm. “Fuck babygirl… What the fuck…” He groaned, lapping at the swollen skin that was forming from his bite, kissing your shoulder until he was focused enough to slip his soaked cock out of your cunt. 

Ben was quick to move, desperately tugging you up and twisting you around, knowing you didn’t have good enough strength to sit up anymore. Panting and still hazed, you dug your knees into the couch, straddling Jeff as you pressed your chest against his, hiding your face into his shoulder. Ben nudged behind you, tugging your hips back to meet his and groping at your ass, pulling the skin apart to see your soaked cunt. “Just one more, yeah princess?” Ben huffed, fisting his cock lazily as he pressed the tip between your folds, the warmth already tugging him closer. You sobbed, gripping Jeff’s shoulders and tugging at his hoodie as you nodded, arching gently as Ben slipped his head in.

Your cunt was so warm, so goopy and swollen from your orgasm, but constricting around Ben’s cock just right. Jeff’s cum threatened to leak out, dropping down but Ben caught it with his head, pushing it back into your entrance with a smile. He growled, his left hand holding his hoodie up to his chest while his right gripped onto your hip, nails digging in. Jeff reached around, wrapping his around your back as he kissed your cheek, watching closely as Ben sunk in. “Easy, you fuckin’ pixel bitch,” Jeff warned, reaching down to grip your ass, tugging the mounds in his rough hands as the blond scoffed. “She can take it.” He snapped his hips.

Now, Ben wasn’t as large as Jeff, but he knew how to sway his thrusts just right to make you fall apart. Placing a hand on the small of your back, he pushed down, forcing you to arch as he thrust up into your soppy walls, your cries loud and ragged against Jeff’s shoulder. “Plea- Please- Jesus-” You cried, reaching your hands to grip into Jeff’s messy hair, each snap of Ben’s hips jolting you forward with a slap. Jeff’s arms tensed around you, groaning as he soaked up your cries, cock fluttering to life again underneath. You leaned back, babbling something unheard as you connected your lips with Jeff’s moaning desperately into his mouth, Ben gritting as he snapped upwards into your walls. Reaching forward, the blond tangled his fist into the back of your hair, gripping tight and tugging a chunk back, snapping your head back as you cried. 

The elf was overwhelmed, a whining and grunting mess as his hips jolted, slapping loudly into yours as he tugged your hair. He leaned forward, forcing your face to turn as he pecked at your wet lips, brows knit as he continued his pace. Ben was shaking, lost in the warmth and wetness as he slammed in without any sense of coordination, you whimpering against his lips. Jeff growled, gripping your jaw and forcing you back to his lips, a little desperate game of possession starting up. Every few thrusts, the lips you were on would change, the two passing you between them as Jeff snaked a hand along your stomach, reaching to rub at your clit as he licked at your lips. You whined, hips jerking to meet the sensation as Ben tugged your head back to his, forcing his tongue into your mouth. You felt dizzy, position changing so often that you felt like you were spinning as your jaw was dragged back to another pair of lips. 

Fed up, you reached behind you, dragging Ben’s head closer as Jeff invaded your mouth, pressing the blond’s lips against yours as well. They both grunted, both tongues slipping into your mouth and fighting for more space, Ben’s thrusts becoming shallow and lazy as he tugged at your swollen lips. Slobber ran and mixed, whines and pants flowing into each other’s mouths as they both shared you, both dragged you onto another orgasm as Jeff’s fingers pinched your clit, Ben’s cock shoving itself deeper when he tugged your hair hard enough to make you cry. 

The boys were groaning, moaning against your lips as you came, drinking in your sounds as Ben bottomed out, letting you drag him along as well. Ben let off, his head dropping down against your shoulder as he came deep into your cunt, mixing his cum with Jeff’s, his fists gripping your hips tight and tugging you back further onto him. You pawed at Jeff’s chest, his muscles heaving with every breath as he held you, watching with wide eyes as you gasped through your orgasm, jaw hanging slack and eyes rolling back gently. “So good, babygirl. Look so good like this.” He smiled, gazing at Ben whose face was clenched tight, spilling what was left of his seed and tugging out, watching as your red lips swelled around his head. All of you were sweaty and hot, the TV glow reflecting bright against your red faces and hair clinging to your skin. Pants and grunts followed as you all plopped onto the couch, Jeff holding you as Ben lay on the opposite end, admiring your drenched cunt slowly leaking the mixed cum. 

Ben felt so content, so good watching you slowly drift in Jeff’s arms, the killer glancing at him and nodding his head, beckoning for him to come closer. “You look good too. I guess.” Jeff huffed as Ben crawled over, the elf laughing as he awkwardly slid under you, your body crammed between the two as they held you. “So, princess. Who’s the winner?” Ben smiled against your ear, smirking at Jeff as you groaned, glancing through heavy eyes.

“Couldn’t decide. Might need a couple more tries to figure it out.” You mumbled quietly against Jeff’s shoulder, closing your eyes and not thinking anything of the comment as your tired body took over. The boys, however, smiled at each other, rummaging around and positioning you snugly between them. “Good idea.” Jeff smiled, gripping under your knees and pushing them apart, each thigh spread over either boy’s waist. You stirred again, eyes shooting open as Jeff reached around to shove his fingers between your folds, pressing them inside achingly quickly. Ben followed, nudging his face into your neck and kissing the skin as his hands gripped your tits, massaging your arousal back to life. Whining, you gave in, reaching around to grip both of their heads closer to yours as you moaned, their fingers ravaging. 

Maybe you could teach them to share, maybe even then you could teach them to be nice…

This was an anonymous request!

Comments and reblogs are appreciated! 𐚁₊⊹

[statusexile]

Rip Off the Tag, Get Him Mad

Summary: Konig’s magnetic walk and mysterious mask make him a new darling in the fashion industry, and you manage to score an exclusive interview with him. You might not know what he looks like — but you sure do know what he tastes like.

Pairing: Konig x Reader

Warnings: afab!reader, dub con, dom!Konig, p-in-v, fellatio, mating press, dirty talk, brat taming, breeding kink, cum eating, creampie, badly translated German, reader goes by she/her pronouns, probably not very accurate in terms of both journalism and fashion but who cares I’m only here for sexy times.

Word count: 3,696 words

NSFW. MDNI!

a/n: Got inspired while listening to New Bottega by Azealia Banks and all I could picture in my head was supermodel!Konig for no reason lmao. As always, suggestion and feedback are always welcome along with reblogs and likes. Thank you for reading! ❤️

I put the boy in Galliano, now he’s a fuckin’ model

It was four in the morning and you had just landed in Vienna, your third destination for this week alone. Paris and Milan had taken their toll on your body, leaving you feeling so exhausted and jetlagged that you wondered if they had already become your permanent companions forever. Tired and bleary-eyed, you are ready for a break, but duty called.

You’re one of the most seasoned and notorious fashion journalists, never holding back on saying what everyone’s thinking, even if it means models walking out or crying during your interviews. It’s not personal though; you’re just doing your job, and damn, you’re good at it. Your knack for keeping it real and staying objective makes you stand out in the game.

You managed to sneak in a few hours of sleep before getting ready for Vienna Fashion Week. That afternoon, you rocked a cool vibe with an oversized black blazer that had this rad belt and chain combo going on. The vibe continued with a flowy, see-through black maxi skirt — the kind that made people do a double take. Toss in a mini bag swinging casually by your side, and you are ready to own the fashion week. Of course, the look wouldn't be complete without knee-high black boots, giving off major laid-back but put-together vibes. You kept your makeup minimal because you wanted your outfit to be the focal point of the entire look.

As you arrived at the event, fashion photographers and paparazzi started flocking to you, asking what you’re wearing and what you’re most excited to see during this fashion week. You posed for some photos and answered some questions. After navigating the sea of photographers, you made your way inside, where the atmosphere buzzed with the energy of influential figures in the fashion world, celebrities, and social media influencers. Greetings and compliments flowed as you mingled with the diverse crowd, exchanging smiles and posing for candid snapshots with some of the industry’s most notable figures.

You found yourself in the company of those who shaped the fashion landscape. The anticipation for the runway shows heightened as you took your seat in front row, surrounded by the pulsating energy of the fashion elite. The runway was set to unfold, promising a spectacle that would undoubtedly leave an incredible mark on this fashion week.

It was a runway showcasing the Fall/Winter ready-to-wear collection for men from one of the most prestigious high-fashion brands in the world. Anticipating a display of dark and muted tones, you were aware that the brand had embraced a theme this year focusing on leather. Getting a peek at this theme had you all hyped up, ready to see the slick and stylish gear they’re about to drop.

It doesn’t take long before the lights dim, signaling the start of the show. The sharp contrast between the dim lighting and focused spotlights heightens the dramatic atmosphere as models strut down the runway, showcasing the leather-themed collection. Stud appliques, dark makeup, and industrial styling add an edgy flair as they graze the runway. You’re making mental notes for your upcoming review, absolutely impressed with what you're witnessing. The collection has been really magnificent, surpassing your usual expectations.

The entire show lasted around fifteen minutes before the final model made his entrance. The man that has been the talk of the fashion industry for the last eight months. He strutted in wearing an absolutely grandiose leather coat, wearing a Swarovski-studded mask that covered his entire face. The confidence in his walk conveyed a commanding presence, making it seem as if the entire audience was under his control.

Konig, a native Austrian with real name, age and hair color unknown, stands six foot ten, weighing two hundred and seventy pounds and has piercing blue eyes. The man has been nothing but an enigma, seemingly appearing out of nowhere. Opening and closing runaways for prestigious high-end brands — a position that takes years for other models to secure. And what’s even wilder? He pulled it off within his first two months in the industry.

His social media has tens of millions of followers and zero following. The entire page is a curated showcase of his portfolios and videos of his runway walks, nothing more. It doesn’t seem like he’s the one handling his account either. Everything is perfectly set up, adding this extra layer of mystery to him.

You can’t help but wonder: Who is this man? Who’s behind his sudden meteoric rise? Is he a nepo baby? Is he some kind of industry insider pulling strings to get all these bookings without even having a single portfolio before? Could he be a pro basketball player doing a side gig in modeling? Or what if he’s an alien in human disguise? So many questions, but not a single answer. You’ve asked so many people in the industry about him, but it seems like nobody has a clue either.

You’ve seen his casting polaroids and test shoot photos, and even in those, he’s wearing a mask, revealing only his eyes. It really makes you wonder, because that’s the complete opposite of the purpose of taking those photos. They’re meant to showcase your bare face, not cover it up. Yet, somehow, he’s scoring bookings when practically no one has seen his face. How does he even manage to do that?

There are rumors circulating that just a very few high-profile figures in the industry actually know what he looks like, and they can be counted with one hand. Some claim he’s hiding an unflattering appearance under that mask, that’s why he insists on covering his face despite of his exceptional walk and stage presence. Others insist he looks like he’s actually sculpted by a Greek God himself, but he prefers recognition for his walk rather than his looks.

He’s also notorious for rejecting interviews and walking out on them. Even when he agrees to an interview, it's usually short and filled with vague answers. But one day, you send a proposal for an exclusive interview to his management and discover that he’s accepted your request, but he insists it should happen at his own home in Vienna. His request seems a bit unprofessional to you, but it’s your only chance to uncover who this man really is. So, you agreed on his term.

And fortunately for you, that lucky day is today.

After attending a handful more runway shows for the day, you’ve wrapped up your work and are heading back to your hotel. Now, you’re diving into drafting the upcoming articles slated for this fashion week, as you prepare to interview Konig, the man and the myth himself tonight.

Your heart is pounding with a mix of anticipation and nervousness, and you have no idea why. It’s been a long time since you’ve felt anything like this. You’ve interviewed dozens of models in your life, so what’s the difference between them and him? Usually, it’s them who are scared of you, not the other way around.

Brushing aside that feeling, you started preparing for the interview this evening. After a refreshing shower, you got dressed and did your makeup. Wearing a silk white long-sleeve shirt paired with a black pencil midi skirt and black stilettos, you finished the look with a bold choice — ruby red lipstick. For some reason, you’re feeling especially bold for tonight’s interview.

He lives not far from your hotel as you reached your destination in less than fifteen minutes. Following the address provided by his management, you entered the building and found his apartment. Without hesitation, you rang on the doorbell.

He opened the door in no time. It caught you off guard as it was the first time you’ve seen him up close. Describing him as tall seems like a massive understatement; his presence is downright colossal as he stands right in front of you. Dressed in a balaclava, a snug black t-shirt accentuating his sculpted body, and green army-colored cargo pants. This is the first time you’ve had a close look at his eyes, and they are breathtaking — a gorgeous shade of steely blue.

“I’ve been expecting you. Please, come in.” Konig said as he gestured for you to come inside.

As you entered his home, you could see that this man has an exquisite taste in decor. His loft has high ceilings and large windows, making the space feel open and airy. The brick walls and exposed piping create a natural, industrial feel, while the rich, warm tones of red and orange add a cozy touch to the space. The walls are adorned with numerous photographs of his work as a model.

He gestured for you to take a seat on the couch and asked what you’d like to drink. You told him water’s fine, so he disappeared into the kitchen for a bit. When he came back, he placed a glass of water on the coffee table in front of you. He sits on the couch across from you afterward.

“Konig, thank you very much for agreeing to meet with me for this interview. Our magazine really appreciates your time and willingness to share your story with us.” You told him as you took your phone out of your bag, opening the recording app on it.

He leaned back on the couch, crossing his arms. “Anything I could do to help, miss.” he said. You could hear his deep voice with a thick German accent as this is first time you heard him speak.

“By accepting this interview, you consent to being recorded during our conversation today, alright?” you said to him as you pushed the ‘record’ button on your phone. He only nodded in approval.

You began your interview by asking him cookie-cutter questions, such as what inspired him to pursue modeling as a career, how he handles the challenges of balancing work and personal life, who his fashion icons are and how they influenced his personal style, how he stays fit and healthy while maintaining a demanding modeling schedule, and how he handles criticism and negative feedback from the fashion industry and the public. And of course, he answered them all with cookie-cutter answers too.

You could hear the cockiness and smugness in his tone, and you could feel that it annoys you a little bit. Despite being a relative rookie in the scene, his ego seems to radiate through his presence. However, that’s precisely the reason you’re here for this interview — to unmask who this man actually is.

You’re now ready to ask him a tougher question, intending to push his buttons slowly but sure. You’ve convinced yourself that it’s going to happen today. It has to, because this is your only chance.

“Can you explain your reasoning behind the mask? Usually models rely on their facial features as a part of their appeal, so covering it seems counterintuitive.”

Konig seems a bit caught off guard by your question. He stays quiet for a moment, clearly thinking how to respond. You can see that the question has ticked him off a little bit.

“Is that your attempt at a compliment? I’m flattered. I can do whatever I want with my appearance.” Konig answered sarcastically, but the annoyance in his tone was crystal clear. “Besides, I don’t think it’s interrupting my work. I showcase the clothes on the runway, demonstrating what they need to sell. At the end of the day, that's what matters as a model, isn’t it?” he continues.

You can’t argue with him because, well, he’s right. He did his job exactly the way they wanted, and he’s damn good at it. So, all you can do is nod at his answer.

You kept your composure as you continue with your interview, “It’s been suggested that your parents are highly influential figures in the fashion industry and that their connections may have contributed to your quick rise to fame. How would you respond to those allegations?”

Konig let out a scoff, his tone dripping with mockery in response to your next question. “I get it, there are some rumors going around that my parents are some moguls in the fashion industry and they have connections that helped me get where I am today, but let me set this straight: my parents have never worked in the fashion industry and all the success I’ve achieved is because of my own hard work and determination. Just because my career has taken off doesn’t mean it isn’t legit.”

Konig is clearly annoyed at this point, but he still manages to answer your question. You’re surprised he hasn't kicked you out of his home yet. But when you’re about to ask your last question but he suddenly cuts you off,

“You’re really nosy, aren’t you?”

“What can I say, it comes with the job requirement.”

You finally manage to talk back to him because his attitude is clearly getting under your skin, just like your questions seem to annoy him. While he might believe he can act however he pleases, he’s unaware that you’re a journalist. If it weren’t for your commitment to integrity and professionalism, you could easily run your thoughts about his attitude at this point.

“Look, one last question and I’ll be out of your hair,” you told him, you can see his patience is clearly running low at this point. However, what he didn’t know is that you’re about to drop a bomb on him.

“Did you earn your success through talent or hard work or did you have to do… other thing to get where you are today?”

His eyes narrowed into a fierce glare while he stares at you, he clearly doesn’t like the question at all. You could practically feel the tension in the air as he clenched his jaw, gritting his teeth underneath that mask as a silent display of anger.

“I don’t like what you’re implying.”

“And my question still stands.”

He leans forward on the couch, anger flashing vividly in his eyes and now you can almost feel the heat of his irritation as he growls in frustration.

“You can cut through the formal bullshit and just say what you want to say.”

You take your phone from the coffee table and press the ‘stop’ button, finally responding to him in a calm manner.

“Did you fuck your way up to the top, Konig?”

And that was his breaking point. He suddenly stands up from his couch as he walks toward you, anger intensifying in his eyes. He grabs your chin forcefully, making you meet his gaze.

“Not only nosy, but you also have a filthy little mouth, aren’t ya, maus?” you could feel his strong hand squeezing your face so hard that it feels like he’s trying to break your jaw. It was so painful that you couldn’t answer to him at all.

“But don’t worry, I’m gonna do something about it, so you won’t run your filthy mouth anymore, especially at me.” he growls at you while his other hand is unbuckling his belt and unzipped his pants, revealing this thick, enormous cock, already dripping with precum. He grabbed it and then started smearing the precum on your face, slapping his cock a few times on your cheeks.

“You need some serious disciplining, maus. Didn’t they teach you at school that it’s not nice to curse at other people, hm?” Konig started to tease the tip of his cock of your lips, smearing your lips with his precum.

“You’re lucky that I’m here, maybe I can teach you a thing or two about how to behave towards other people. Now open that filthy fucking mouth.” his other hand squeezed your mouth open and he thrusted his cock inside your mouth, forcing you to engulf his entire length in one go, making you violently gag as you could feel his tip touched the back of your throat. And now, he moved his hand from your face to your hair, grabbing a handful of it as he rapidly fucking your mouth.

Tears began streaming down your cheeks, mascara and lipstick began to smear across your face. It’s getting hard for you to breathe because he shoved his cock so deep and slamming it on the back of your throat, pounding over and over again mercilessly. His grip is so strong; it feels like he’s going to rip your entire scalp off.

“Fuuuuck, this mouth of yours is so fucking tight and warm. You should consider leaving your current job and become my personal fuck toy, maus. I would love to use this filthy mouth however and whenever I want, it seems like it’s the only good use for it.” he snickers with a devilish gleam in his eyes while he keeps fucking your mouth relentlessly. You started choking on his length, but he didn’t seem to care, in fact, it made him slam his cock even faster.

It feels like this has been going on forever, and you’re afraid you might get lockjaw anytime soon. But you could feel he’s so close to orgasm as his cock starts twitching in your mouth.

“Oh fuck, I’m gonna cum. I hope you’re ready, schatz, because I’m gonna fill that filthy mouth real good,” he grunts as his thrust becoming more and more erratic. It only takes a couple more thrusts before he came, coating you’re the walls of mouth with his thick seeds.

Konig finally pulled his cock out from your mouth. His cum tastes so bitter, but when you’re about to spit it out, he forcefully grabbed your face again, now facing his face directly.

“You’re not allowed to spit it out. I want you to swallow it but only when I said so. Now be a good girl and keep it in your mouth, but if you didn’t, I can promise that you won’t like the punishment at all. Understood?” he snarls at you but your mouth is so full of his cum you so can only nod at his words.

“Good, because I’m not done with you,” Konig suddenly pushed you back down to the couch as he pulls your legs up forcefully, ripping the side of your tight skirt and yanked your panties, also ripping it in the process. He puts your legs around his waist as he put his cock on top your stomach, seeing how deep it’s gonna go inside of you.

“Hmmm, I don’t think the entire thing is gonna fit. But don’t worry, schatz, I’ll make it fit. I know you can do it, you’re a big girl after all.” Konig lightly taps your cheek, he’s trying to sound sweet but you hear the venom in his tone. You know at that moment he’s definitely going to destroy you.

“Are you on the pill?” he asked again. You can only shake your head, hoping that he’ll go easy on you. “Heh, good.” he suddenly pulled your legs up over his shoulder and titled towards you, he then whispers in a husky tone,

“Weil ich dich so hart ficken werde, bis du mich zum Papa machst.”

His cock suddenly dipping into you, makes you nearly chocked on his cum. You can feel the tip of his cock stretched your cervix thin, slamming the same spot repeatedly as he folds your body like an origami. You feel like you’re going to sprain your neck if you stay in this position for a long time, but of course he didn’t care. He keeps using your body like you’re his personal cum dumpster.

You’re trying to protest but you can’t open your mouth, otherwise you’re gonna spill out his cum and you definitely don’t want that. Only a stifled whimper escapes your lips. He chuckled in response to your failed attempt at protest.

“Not”—thrust—“so”—thrust—“nosy”—thrust—“any”—thrust— “more”—thrust—“aren’t”—thrust—“you”

He’s pounding you hard and fast with each syllable of his words. Your eyes rolled back to the back of your head. Your mind went numb at the intense pleasure.

“Your pussy is so fucking tight, and it’s all mine to use.” he growls at you as he keeps fucking you mercilessly. You’re not on the pill and he’s not using a condom, so there’s a chance he’s going to get you pregnant after this, but they way he’s fucking you so hard and so good makes you not want him to stop until both of you are satisfied.

You can feel he’s close to orgasm again and so are you. Just a couple more thrusts, he finally came inside of you as both of you reached your climax at the same time. Filling you with his thick, milky white cum. Your cheek throbs with pain, your mind feels foggy, and your vision blurs into static.

Konig finally put down your legs, as he seeing his thick cum oozing from your now sore, puffy cunt. He gazes at it, amusement and desire dripping from his eyes. “Now swallow my cum, maus. Stick your tongue out when you’re done, I wanna see you swallow it all.”

You obey him as you swallowed all his cum and sticks out your tongue as a prove. “What an obedient girl.” he said, you can see him smiling through his mask.

He pulls up his pants and plop down next to you on the couch, while you’re still catching your breath and trying to gain your composure.

“I’ll be in New York in two days, and I assume this interview isn’t over. I will tell my manager to send you the hotel address where I’m staying and the room number. I’m expecting to see you there.” he said softly as he caresses your hair gently.

You replied, “I will come, but with one condition: I want to see your face. Otherwise, it's not going to happen.”

He chuckled at your request, “If you play your cards right, that request is not off the table,” he said as he keeps caressing your hair, “But only if you’re a good girl, okay, beautiful?”

He scooches over towards you, leaning as he whispers in your ear,

“Otherwise, I’ll use you just like I use the rest of them.”

[bits-and-babs]

𝐏𝐔𝐒𝐒𝐘 𝐏𝐔𝐍𝐈𝐒𝐇𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐓 — 𝐒𝐏𝐄𝐂𝐈𝐀𝐋 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐄𝐑! 𝐀𝐔𝐒𝐓𝐈𝐍!𝐄𝐋𝐕𝐈𝐒

-> OCT. 17 : PUSSY SLAPPING

WARNINGS: 18+ MDNI. Dom!Austin!Elvis, fingering, spoilt orgasms, mentions of the cum-back special ;)

WC: 1015

[Kinktober Masterlist] [Main Masterlist]

Elvis’ mother used to say that his hands were a gift from God. That he had bestowed upon Elvis a Midas touch. Everything he touched became invaluable. A microphone, his guitar, his skill bled into each of his instruments and created art with such ease.

Elvis’ skills with his hands weren’t limited to his musical equipment. He reduced you to a sobbing wreck with such ease every time he touched you. He could play you, make you sing with the simplest of touches. He once pulled the most earth-shattering orgasm from you, exhausting you with his fingers alone when he murmured into your ear; “That’s my favourite song.”

However, Elvis wasn’t above punishing you for your bad behaviour either. The look on his face when his Comeback Special filming wrapped made it clear to you that he was less than pleased with the attitude you had been displaying. It’s not as though you’d been rude, or shown distaste towards the film crew. No, you’d just been eyeing him up during his renditions of Hound Dog, dragging your eyes down the length of his body and making it achingly clear whilst he was up on that stage and could do nothing about it that you wanted him.

What you hadn’t accounted for was how worked up Elvis would get. The strain in his voice, the ad-libbed moans he often did during Trouble suddenly a lot less theatrical and a lot more needy. By the time he was handing over his guitar to his security, you were feeling both giddy and guilty about what was in store.

“You, little miss, are comin’ with me,” he insisted, his thick southern drawl sending a chill down your spine with the way he ordered you around. You weren’t given much choice regardless, his hand firmly taking you by the wrist and pulling you behind stage to his dressing room.

The slam of the door told you that you certainly had crossed a line in the best way possible, his palm at your back pushing your chest and face into the surface of his dressing table. Elvis, never one to care much about his valuables, pushes the expensive colognes aside, their glass bottles only prevented from shattering by the thick rug under your feet.

“Elvis-“ You gasp as he rips your jeans down your hips, taking your underwear along with them. He’s angry, you like him like this.

“Little miss thought that she could mess around like that while I was on stage, hmm?” He muses cruelly, his hand winding its way around your front and settling at the apex of your thighs. “Thought she could make a scene and not be punished?”

You whimper softly, his index fingertip gently rubbing slow circles around your needy clit. Fuck, you were so horny, seeing him dance around on that stage in that leather suit that suited his body so good. His ass had looked incredible-

“Made me fuckin’ cum in my nice new suit, darlin’. Made me cum in front of all those people. And you liked it, didn’t you?” He sneered, his already soaked fingers slipping into your cunt with such ease. The cold metal of his horse-shoe shaped diamond ring bumping up against your entrance and causing you to gasp out loudly at the way he managed to find your g-spot almost instantaneously.

“I-, Oh- I’m sorry-“ You attempt to bargain, attempt to plead for mercy. It’s all part of the game and you know it. He’s not going to forgive you, you both like the punishment.

“No you’re not,” he laughs out, his fingertip rubbing up against that mind numbing spot that makes your jaw drop and your eyes roll back into your skull. “No you’re not!”

He swiftly withdraws his digits from your puffy, needy cunt and harshly slaps your clit so hard you swear you see stars, crying out his name and grasping at the edges of the dressing table so hard your knuckles go pale.

“That’s what you wanted, wasn’t it? Wanted me to cream my fuckin’ pants on national tv. Wanted to be the reason Elvis Presley looks like a fuckin’ idiot didn’t you baby?” He murmurs into your ear, his body draped across your back in order to get as close as possible. You can feel his hard cock through the leather jumpsuit he is still wearing pressed against the curve of your ass as he slaps your cunt again, causing your body to jolt in shock.

“Answer me darlin’,” He insists, pulling his hand away as if to gear up for another spank of your poor, tingling cunt.

“Y-Yes! Yes it was what I wanted!” You cry out, grasping onto the table and whimpering softly as Elvis settles his hand over your pussy gently and carefully begins to rub circles over your clit again. You sob softly, body curling inwards slightly as he begins to build up your orgasm.

“See? That weren’t so hard was it?” He coos, his other hand slowly sliding up your sternum and underneath your shirt before squeezing your breast with his calloused palm. “You gonna apologise to me?”

“I’m sorry, Elvis,” you moan, sounding completely unashamed as you focus on your growing orgasm. Your toes curl in your shoes as you feel the peak grow and grow, Elvis’ dexterous fingers throwing you into the mind-numbing feeling.

“You gonna cum for me, little miss?” He whispers softly, the plump flesh of his lips gently tracing the shell of your ear. It’s as though his Southern accent crawls down your spine, settling in your lower abdomen and dragging you towards the edge.

“Ahh- Yes! Elvis-“ You gasp, bracing yourself for the fall.

“No you ain’t,” Elvis mutters, delivering a sudden and harsh spank to your clit. Your orgasm obliterates you, the stinging pain spoiling the pleasure somewhat despite the fact you double over with it, a loud wail of despair leaving your throat.

“Mhmm, see, now you know how it feels sugar,” Elvis muses, pressing gentle kisses to your head with a smirk. “You’re gonna have to ask nicely if you want another.”

END

@in-for-a-pennyx @hoeneey @howaboutcastiel @markywithissues @welcometostayingawake @inklore @foxilayde

[dwightschrute]

Yesterday I got really upset about something and was ranting about it to my friend and I felt so fucking heated like it was 2 or 3 years ago when I was drinking and getting into fb fights and I haven’t felt that way at all since being sober and then she told me I needed to take it down and idk the fucking vibe changed and i felt like a burden and then I texted my only other friend basically and the vibe there was way off too and ik it’s probably not me and she has her own shot going on but holy fuck sometimes I’m like nah I don’t actually have BPD and then shit like this happens and I start hating my friends for not understanding me or for their energy shifting and I assume it’s about me and then I detach bc I don’t want them to hate me and leave me bc I can’t handle that and i was already feeling so alone and even tho I have my two friends who are great friends but they’re not like my best friends you know? Like liz and I are best friends and we know basically everything abt each other and have known each other since first grade, but she’s not like fully present, like in our friendship or in life in general. I love her carefree nature and I’m used to her being in her own little world but it feels isolating to be around her sometimes. Lots of times I guess. I never feel heard or listened to. I love her and I could go to her with anything but she doesn’t fully understand me and I don’t fully understand her. And Jenna is wonderful but she’s also 22 and married with a kid on the way out in fuckin New York and also she’s my dead boyfriends ex so like it’s not a perfect scenario lol. I love them both a lot. I know I’m being irrational thinking they don’t like me and are going to try and cut off ties with me. It fucking feels that way though and it’s exhausting. “You are not your emotions!” but they sure do know how to affect every portion of my life and make me feel fucking physically sick and like my chest is being ripped open. And over what?? Literally nothing has happened. I hate this shit bro. There is no doubt in my mind I have BPD after shit like this lol. I hate this shit I just want to not be so fucking mentally ill. God, a lil bit of generalized anxiety and depression? Sign me tf up bro bc this having 4+ mental illnesses is so exhausting. I’m fucking tired of myself lol

[thatgrlwiththabigmouth]

Sweet Embrace

© Melissa Magdalene 2010

‘Don’t be ashamed,’

He exclaimed

As I lay bare

Naked on the

Ice cold floor

‘Could you get the door?’

I whispered

As I looked

The other way

‘Just stay!’

He demanded

‘Have I not seen you before?’

‘Well sure, but…”

I tried to find

The right word

‘You’re like a wounded’

‘Wild bird”

He mused

So tenderly

Expressing himself

So freely

‘Don’t look at me!’

I shrieked

Fingers pressed firm

Across my tired eyes

‘I already see’

‘Even before you”

‘Showed me’

He explained

‘Even the rain’

‘The heavy downpour”

As he looked over

To the door

‘Why pester me for more?’

I asked inquisitively

‘You know all I adore’

‘All that I abhor”

“Yes I’m fuckin sore’

‘To the fuckin core”

‘Will it please you – ‘

‘If I suffer all the more?’

I sat up upright

Palms pressed rigidly

Against cold smooth marble

‘I’m fuckin old’

‘I’m fuckin cold’

‘How much longer?’

‘Why do you expect me –‘

‘To always be –‘

‘That little bit stronger?’

‘I’m tired!’

‘I’ve had enough!’

His crystal blue eyes

Fixed on the door

So attractively rough

His alabaster silhouette

So appealingly tough

Dark curls framing

His perfect face

If only he knew disgrace

‘Don’t question me!”

He insisted feverishly

In an irritated tone

As I continued

To disagree

Mumbling juvenile

Reasoning in the background

In self pity alone

‘Did you not…?”

“Remember then…?”

‘Did you desist…?”

‘Remember when…?”

His bitter references

Provoking memory lane

‘You were fuckin insane!!!!’

He angrily roared

Piercing my heart

Every single word

Ripping it apart

‘So don’t sit there –“

‘Selling me excuses!”

‘They have no uses!’

He insisted forcefully

I closed my eyes

I wished he couldn’t see

As he moved in closer

Kneeling at my side

Taking my hand

‘Please don’t try to lie,”

He whispered gently

‘I know it all!’

‘….and now I have to fall??’

I asked with guilt

‘I didn’t know…”

‘I really didn’t know….’

‘The messy pile’

‘Of fucked up shit I built’

A single salty tear

Sailing downward

From my burning eye

‘Don’t cry!’

‘It’s ok!’

‘I will make it all –’

‘Go away!’

He explained

In a comforting tone

‘Follow me forward’

‘Don’t look backward’

‘I’ll show you –“

‘How to freely roam’

‘In true love!’

I breathed in deeply

Chest swelling so tight

As he caressed my skin

Ever so softly

In the middle of the night

‘Do you know I love you?’

‘Do you truly believe?’

‘I’m confused!’

I replied

‘Can’t you just let me be?’

‘Please?’

I glanced over to the door

I saw the hallway floor

Stained with sadness

Stale with repetition

Walls peeling so slowly

In unjustified aggravation

‘Look at me!’

He quipped unexpected

My attention distracted

I faced him again

His steady composure

Now sternly erected

His fingers caressing my face

If only he knew disgrace

‘Do you trust me?!’

He questioned

Not completely sure

‘I’m trying!’

‘It’s not my specialty’

“As you already know’

‘From before’

His hands tracing my flesh

As he closed his

Penetrating eyes

‘Please stay with me!’

‘Follow my lead’

‘Love me’

‘Just don’t say goodbye!’

He pressed his defined arms

Around my exhausted frame

Holding me tightly

In sweet embrace

‘I’m sorry’

I whispered

‘I know I am to blame.’

[erodasfishtacos]

HSLOT PHILLY

Like, comment, share, and come talk if you enjoyed the fic.

I write for free - so if you would like to support my work, you can donate here.

-

Harry is predictable.

He falls into the same patterns during every tour since he was on the Up All Night with One Direction.

The excitement that comes with the first couple of shows begins to fade as he starts his world wide tour that doesn’t end for nearly eight months.

His constant adrenaline wears off and his exhaustion from not having toured in two years settles deep in his bones.

YN senses it from a mile away, has nearly eleven years experience dealing with her jet-lagged, exhausted, and stubborn husband.

It hits the day of the Philadelphia show, they got in late the night before, and YN always set her alarm for seven thirty in the morning to workout.

Ninety-five percent of the time, Harry got up with her and they either did a jog around the new city or they took advantage of the in-hotel gym.

Four percent of the time, he would whine and tug the comforter over his head, whimpering, “M’too tired, baby. Stay in bed w’me.”

And then the one percent, which was today.

The alarm emits a low, constant beep that rouses YN, in the time she takes to rub her eye and come back into reality - Harry hisses with a sharp edge, “Turn tha’ fuckin’ thing off.”

She bites her tongue at his tone, reaching to turn it off but she can already tell what day they’re going to have.

YN slips out from under the covers and automatically gets a comment from her husband, it another whiney demand, “Cover m’feet, y’too the blanket off them.”

“Yes, your majesty,” YN replies reproachfully, rearranging the blankets before quietly moving around the room to change.

“Stop makin’ so much noise.”

“Turn off tha’ light.”

“S’too early f’this, d’you not care that m’tired?”

She chooses to ignore the remarks, hoping that he can sleep off the attitude.

When YN is about to leave, he grumbles, “Y’need to kiss me goodbye.”

Harry purses his lips for a soft kiss, not moving a muscle, and after that - she leaves to head down to the gym.

YN is required a body guard, definitely when she isn’t with Harry or a group of people, and she decided not to follow those rules today.

She had her TPWK water bottle in hand, a cute workout set on ***, and her AirPods tucked in her ear with some Spice Girls playing.

It’s only about twenty minutes into her exercise, a light jog on the treadmill, that a young girl slips up beside the machine.

YN is kind, stopping the belt to smile for a selfie before the girl scampers off and she resumes her run - music blasting.

However, what YN didn’t know, is that fans had found out early in the morning which hotel they where at and a hoard was rushing towards the small gym.

It’s not even ten minutes later when a swarm of fans in rushing into the work area, lining up around her machine with their phones flashing and recording.

She tries to be nice, “Hey! Uh, I’m just trying to workout. I’m sorry, but no pictures please.”

Then there is loud protest and people shoving each other, begging and pleading for a selfie or for her to sign something - all because she was Harry’s wife.

There is literally no exit to escape to, so she relents and anxiously calls Frank - one of the body guards - to come retrieve her.

-

The whole way back up to her hotel room, Frank is lecturing her about safety and how she could have gotten hurt.

And when he scans the keycard for her hotel room, she feels her stomach drop because Harry is sat against the kitchen counter.

His brown locks are rumpled and going every which way, just in his briefs that are low on his narrow hips, and absolutely irate expression on his face.

“Are y’fuckin’ kiddin’ me?” Harry snaps, brow furrowed and jaw clenched - his arms were crossed tightly against his chest.

“Good morning to you, sunshine,” YN mutters, shutting the door and kicking off her tennis shoes to the side.

“Don’t,” Harry replies sourly, “Please explain t’me why I get woken up by Frank to be told y’getting mobbed in the gym? And y’didn’t to call him.”

YN bristles at his tone, giving him a pointed look as she steps further into the room, “It’s not a big deal. I just wasn’t thinking.”

“Y’right about that, y’weren’t thinkin’. It is a big deal, y’could have gotten hurt - shouldn’t have t’babysit m’own wife,” Harry huffs, stomping back over to the bed and sliding back under the covers.

“You better watch your tone-“

They’re interrupted with a knock to their door, Harry throws the covers over his head and leaves YN to open the door.

It’s Jeff, who barges in with a coffee in one hand, “Come on, H. Did you forget? You have soundcheck early today and then you have to meet with FullStop to review the details of that new merchandise contract.”

“No, move it,” The popstar groans, muffled from the heavy blankets over him, and his manager and wife give each other a knowing look.

“We can’t. Get up, we need to leave in fifteen,” Jeff replies casually, unbothered as he sips from his to-go mug.

It has Harry dramatically ripping off the covers and getting out of bed, as he charges off towards the bathroom, he shouts backwards, “Wish someone would have fuckin’ told me! Like m’manager or m’wife!”

“Oh my god, here we go,” YN groans quietly to Jeff, snatching up the few things she needs for the venue as well as Harry’s and shoving them in his duffle.

He comes out a few moments later, dressed in running shorts and a vintage Queen shirt - going to tug on his Nikes without a word to either.

But in true Harry fashion, even when he’s mad, he’s still a gentleman. He slips the duffle off his wife’s shoulder so she doesn’t have to carry it.

“Thank you,” She murmurs but he avoids eye contact, being the first to open the hotel room and trudge towards the awaiting car.

It’s a quiet ride, Harry looks out the window with a deep frown and puffy eyes - eyes heavy from the lack of sleep.

Usually, he’d be curled into YN - snuggling as close as possible and asking for her to pet his hair to soothe him.

Not today. But he does have his hand on her thigh.

There’s already fans at the arena and Harry doesn’t acknowledge them - keeps his head down and walks quickly into the private entrance past the barricades.

When a irritated fan screams, “Asshole! We waited all night here for you!”

YN watches as Harry goes to turn, to say something but she pushes him forward through the door to prevent him from doing something he’d regret when wasn’t in a foul mood.

They manage through the long hallways, filled with bustling tour crew, and everybody there to make the show happen.

Sound check isn’t as fun as it usually is, the band stays low-key when Harry does exactly what he needs to do and nothing more.

And after the merch meeting, Harry has reached his limit apparently.

He was so tired, so fucking moody that he couldn’t deal with anymore human interaction.

YN has to step in when she gets a text from Harry Lambert.

Come get your husband. Sarah’s Kitchen.

She sighs, excusing herself from hanging out with Jeff and Glenne - she can hear him from the hallway and now she’s finally get irritated.

“I asked for that specific brand. It’s literally one of the only things I’ve asked for on this tour.”

YN takes a deep breathe before stepping in, there are crew trying not to stare as Harry complains to Sarah about something unimportant.

“Harry,” She says flatly, “Come on.”

He snatches his water bottle and follows his wife out without another word, trailing behind until they end up in his dressing room.

“You need to stop. You’re being a literal nightmare today,” YN tells him, watching him as he digs in the duffle.

“Where is m’charger? Did y’not pack it?” He ignores her words.

“I must have forgot. Harry, I know you’re tired but you can’t be treating everyone like-“

Harry pushes back the bag, seething for no reason, “I’ll treat people however the fuck I want!”

“You’re acting like a spoiled popstar right now,” YN replies, attempting to stay level-headed and calm with him.

“S’my show! M’tour!”

“Yes and everyone is here to support you and you’re treating them like shit. Including me, I’m your wife - the one person in the world that’s here for you no matter what and you’re being downright mean.”

“Y’so fuckin’ sensitive,” Harry mutters angrily, digging around to try to find a charger in a different bag.

And…that stung a bit.

When he doesn’t get a response, he looks up and notices how her demeanor had changed - it brings him back to reality for a little bit.

“I’m not going to stay here and be talked to like that because you don’t feel good. I’ll leave you alone because you are being insufferable.”

“Bab-“

YN is already out the door, storming back to Sarah’s kitchen to apologize for her husband’s diva behavior and everyone shrugs her off - knowing it’s not her fault.

She is sat down with the band and a few others when her husband saunters in, he doesn’t look at anyone else as he walks up to his wife.

“Baby, can I talk to you?” He mumbles, his warm hand coming to cup her shoulder.

“Harry,” YN says back, they’ve been together for so long that those words are all she needs to say for him to formulate a response.

“Come nap w’me please, need you. I’ll apologize t’you,” Harry says, his palm encompassing and big on her.

“Harry,” She repeats.

The crew looks on in amusement as Harry huffs, he lifts his head and speaks loudly to the room at once, “I apologize for my behavior. I have no excuse for getting upset like I have been today. I hope you guys can forgive me.”

Everyone assures him that they forgive him, most of them have dealt with actual spoiled celebrities and Harry was just having a bad day (which still really wasn’t that bad.)

“Okay, come on, bunny,” YN agrees, satisfied and can’t help but smile a bit when she stands up and Harry automatically intertwines their fingers to hold her hand.

The sofa in his dressing room folds out to be a bed and they still had hours before the show.

Once they’ve locked the doo and settled down on the mattress - they’re both laying on their sides, facing each other.

“M’sorry, darlin’,” Harry whispers, “I haven’t been very nice t’you today. I was just upset about the gym thing and just being so tired.”

YN hums, combing throwing his fluffy curls with her fingers as his hands explore over her hips and belly like always.

“You always get like this every once in a while on tour, like a little spoiled popstar,” YN says softly, no sharpness in her tone, “You also need to be nice to your wife.”

“M’always nice t’my wife,” He mumbles childishly, leaning forward to nip at her chin, “I am sorry, know tha’ when I act like that it embarrasses you.”

“You’re better than acting like that,” YN reminds him, allowing him to tug her into his warm, now bare chest, “I’m never gonna let you turn into some fame monster. You’re gonna stay the kind, funny, compassionate person I met when I was young.”

And when YN doesn’t get a reply, she glances to see Harry’s eyes shut, mouth slightly parted as he breathes rhythmically and his entire face relaxes as he sleeps.

“Still my boy,” YN murmurs lovingly, nuzzling before letting sleep overtake her.

-

[bifurious-rex]

content warning for addiction, overdose, ableism, classism.

since apparently nobody on this godforsaken website knows how to google things or engage critically, some of yall been usin harm reduction in completely irrelevant ways that misconstrue what harm reduction actually is and, believe it or not, that fucking hurts people.

harm reduction: is the idea that moral judgement is not a productive aspect of addiction care and accommodating drug users. it's any practice designed to minimize the potential negative consequences of drug use and prioritizes overall well-being over stigmatizing drug use any further.

harm reduction is a relatively new idea that's only been put into practice in the past few decades, which is pretty fuckin sad considering the majority of it is common sense and was already practiced unofficially in certain marginalized communities.

what does harm reduction include? a whole lot of shit

needle exchange programs

decriminalization of drug usage

community support and outreach programs

access to naxolone (also known as Narcan,) which can reverse the effects of an opiate overdose

recovery programs

supervised injection sites

access to related healthcare without threat of discrimination or legal action

etc.

harm reduction is a wide-ranging field of strategies, it boils down to respecting drug users, meeting them where they're currently at, and keeping all involved parties as safe as possible.

addiction is horrifically stigmatized, and this stigmatization leads to families being ripped apart, people overdosing, incarceration, and a host of other consequences. for many of us, addiction is a reality that we cannot ignore. it's ourselves, our loved ones, our communities. as it stands, marginalized communities are disproportionately affected by the stigma of addiction and drug usage, especially communities of color and poor communities. i am from appalachia, and while i'm not personally in recovery, i was raised by a mother who is. i grew up going to 12-step programs, and i've seen the way the system and its view of addiction destroys lives.

i say this to show the stakes. harm reduction is the first time that the needs and humanity of addicts and drug users has really been formally considered by organizations, much less local governments. it's potentially game-changing for many people. harm reduction saves lives. it keeps kids from being raised by grandparents or in the foster care system. it keeps people from OD-ing in the streets. it gives the chance for addicts to be treated like the people they are, in a world that does nothing but vilify and kill them. every overdose could be preventable. anything that gets in the way of that costs lives.

why is this relevant rn? because people online have a habit of taking serious terminology and diluting the meaning to prove their own point. i'm telling yall right now, you cannot be doing that. i don't even want to get into the specific case that i just witnessed, because point blank, yall cannot be using this to win arguments in fandom or shed accountability. harm reduction is DEEPLY stigmatized in many of the communities its most need in. in 2015, 25 to 40 year olds in appalachia were 70% higher in terms of fatal overdoses than those outside of appalachia. (source) overall, for a lot of social and political reasons, the stigma is worse in places it's needed more. (example)

can harm reduction be used in other contexts? yes!!! absolutely! (for example, it's also utilized by sex workers.) it should be used in other contexts, when it's appropriate and productive.

do you know when it isn't productive? when you're diluting the meaning by using it when talking about fandom shit. for real, if i ever have to see this shit again i'm going to lose my mind. please understand that the misunderstanding of what harm reduction is kills people. it is not a toy for you to play with. undermining the actual purpose of harm reduction gives politicians and opponents to harm reduction more leverage to block life-saving programs that are desperately needed and sorely underfunded.

this shit is particularly relevant rn because the pandemic has led to overdose rates skyrocketing. alright? ok.

FIND A HARM REDUCTION PROGRAM NEAR YOU (x)

reading you can do: (this is not extensive, i'm fuckin exhausted from writing this shit out. if you have suggestions hmu. also they're biased towards wv and appalachia bc. hick.) Understanding Harm Reduction (available in English, Chinese, Punjabi, Farsi, French, Korean, Spanish, and Vietnamese) Reducing Stigma in Appalachia Sex Work + Harm Reduction Stigma Free WV How the Closure of Harm Reduction Changes Rural Healthcare IHRC 2019 Reading List NHRC Resource Center

[duskamethyst]

deception.

a/n: if you ask me why i did this, the answer is i don’t know.

word count: 4.6k

genre: smut, nsfw, angst, quirkless AU

warnings: daddy kink, degradation, edging, age gap, implied cheating, reader is a little delusional

pairing: sugardaddy!bakugou x f!reader

summary: where you fall in love with your own sugar daddy and you finally confess to him.

pretending to be in love with old men for a couple of hours can be exhausting and it might seem like a nonideal way to get money, but desperate times call for desperate measures. you’ve met plenty of these people, who have too much money they could spend. some are just lonely; in need of company from a young, pretty girl and some just want to have fun despite having their wives and kids at home. they come and go, and you couldn’t care less about what happens to them after your encounter, as long as you get your money’s worth. 

but never have you ever thought that you’d be so attached to one. maybe entertaining sugar daddies isn’t that tiring when they’re really attractive (it’s natural to like good looking people, can anyone blame you?). he’s truly a sight for sore eyes and you often wonder how he possesses so much stamina in bed. bakugou makes you feel some kind of way, it’s wrong, but with more time you spend with him, you can’t help but to actually fall in love with the guy. he makes you feel antsy and you often find yourself waiting for his texts, either the dirty ones or the ones that expresses his anticipation to see you again soon.

it’s not like he doesn’t do the same thing as the others; buys you things you know you can’t afford, spends his money on fancy dinners and continues to spend the rest of the night with you at random five stars hotels after. the difference is, you actually somewhat enjoy being around him as his spoiled little princess and you find yourself to gladly do anything for him like the time you let him fuck you raw because he wanted to. 

for a man his age, bakugou is well maintained. you love to lay your head down on his huge chest and rake your nails on his broad back, eliciting deep grunts of pleasure from the man in return. he looks appetizing; toned abs and a happy trail that leads to his trimmed pubes and down to his massive cock. if it isn’t for the fine lines on his face and the white streaks on his hair, you wouldn’t think he’d be reaching 50. 

you don’t know if you should even feel jealous of his wife. if you were born years earlier, would he choose you instead? the thought of him being with someone else and vowed to be together for the rest of their lives makes you want to puke. bakugou must’ve realized that it was a mistake too. if he still loves her, why would he have his cock sink inside you? if he really loves her, why are you the one he tells that to instead? 

“daddy loves you. daddy loves fucking your tight cunt. baby, you feel so fuckin’ good– so fuckin’ good for daddy. love you too– fuck.”

you can already picture the image of him on top of you as you replay those same words like a broken record player inside your head; lips part slightly in heavy pants, vermillion irises overfill with lechery as he fucks you senseless.

daddy loves you. he loves you and you're more than certain that you love him. not for his money, not for the stuff he indulges you with but only for himself. 

you want him. you want him to make you all his. you want him to be able to see you freely and not sneaking behind someone else’s back. you want to sit pretty as you wait for him to come back home from work every day, all wet and ready to please him. he loves you, and that’s what he deserves after a stressful day. 

as soon as you get inside the room and kick off your heels, a strong pair of hands grab you by the thighs and easily lift you up. you wrap your legs around his waist in an instant, dropping your bag to the floor unceremoniously before circling your arms around his neck as he draws you in a passionate, hungry kiss. a battle of dominance has always been nonexistent when it comes to bakugou, he naturally holds everything in the palm of his hand and both of you like it that way.

his lips never stray away from yours, not even when he walks towards the bed with you clinging onto his strong physique while his hands squeeze firmly on the flesh of your bum before he breaks away, but only to throw you on the soft mattress. you prop up on your side, looking up at him innocently and pleadingly with doe eyes that you know would never fail to stir up something primal inside him. his gaze drinks in every inch of you; the heave of your chest, the curve of your ass and overall your smaller frame that lies submissively in front of him. 

“look at you. such a fucking doll.” he takes off his slim fit suit, throwing the coat carelessly on the ground before loosening up his tie until it unfolds completely. “you like the dress? it’s shorter than i imagined, can’t help but to notice how the other guys kept on checking you out.”

you nod your head, pressing your thighs together as you notice how his lustful eyes linger a little too long on your ass that’s barely hiding under the hem of your mini dress. “yes, because daddy bought it for me.”

“damn right he did.” he smirks, unfastening about three buttons of his dress shirt. “ass up.”

you hurriedly roll on your stomach, planting your cheek on the mattress and arching your back perfectly as you lift your ass in the air. you feel the bed dipping from your back before a calloused hand caresses your thigh and trails up to your cheeks slowly, appreciating the smooth and youthful skin before he gets to ruin it.

“good. lift your head up.”

it’s never your position to question. carefully, you do as told by lifting yourself up on your hands and knees. you can discern the shifting of his body from behind and by your side as you look ahead and face the curtains before your sight is abruptly seized by darkness.

the silky material biting your lids suggests that he has wrapped his tie around your head, purposely blindfolding you to amplify your other senses as your sight is consumed with pitch black. bakugou pushes your head down with his hand, keeping you on your knees and lets you stay in the position while he takes off his dress shirt.  

“you’re gonna be a good girl for daddy.” he states more than questions, hiking up the hem of your dress to your waist to feed him with an unobstructed view of the damp patch adhering on your flimsy panties. bakugou presses his thumb on the splotch and his eyes flick over to your quivering body. “gonna let daddy use his tongue to fuck you?”

“please, daddy.” you whine, bucking your hips closer to ease the ache with his touch but is greeted with a sharp smack across your skin instead. 

“so impatient,” he tuts, rubbing the red print gently. “you’re just a horny little girl, aren’t you? can’t live without daddy’s dick inside her cunt.”

“just you– only yours.” 

“you know just what to say, don’t you?” his voice husky and rasp, complimenting the conceited smirk on his lips as he spoke. you learn that bakugou is actually a man that is easy to please, only if you know how to stroke his ego and as simple as that, his intimidating persona would be long gone. 

cold air brushes against your wet folds once he strips off your panties. he lifts up both knees to get you out from the garment and crumple it into a ball with his hand before bringing it in front of your face. 

“open.” you obey and open your mouth, allowing him to gag you with the cloth and quickly filling your senses with a mixture of lace and your own scent. “so good for me.”

bakugou moves back to his initial position, smearing his fingers against your puffy folds with your slick. he circles your clit teasingly and slowly, resulting in you to squirm while your hands find purchase on the sheets beneath you. 

“stop squirming around or i’m not gonna eat you.” he warns as his ministrations come to a halt to observe your compliance before he continues. for a man that is impatient himself, it’s quite hard to take his sweet time teasing you. maybe with the fact that you’re so querulous, a surge of power and pride rushes through him and his willpower tells him not to lose his machismo too quickly.

a satisfying grin tugs on the corner of his lips while he watches you struggle to follow his order and his thumb presses tight circles on your swollen clit to draw out sweet, muffled whines. once he notices your legs begin to tense and toes to curl, he pulls away. 

“you can’t cum yet.” he licks up the slick from his fingers clean before settling his head in front of your rear. an anticipative knot swells in your lower stomach as you feel hot plumes of breath prickling against your puffy folds before he spreads them open with his fingers. with how much your senses have spiked up, you can feel your pussy dripping with so much arousal and you know damn well that bakugou can see it too. 

“you’re nothing but a dirty little slut, aren’t you?” he coos, sounding both demeaning and amused as he rubs your lips, sending more waves of sensation on the bundle of nerves. “my dirty little slut.”

bakugou doesn’t expect you to answer but as soon as his warm tongue takes the first lap of your slick, a loud squeal rips from your throat. his large hands rest on your hips as he tilts his head to reach your clit, toying and teasing by using the tip of his tongue while his own plump lips and stubble graze against your slit.

you’re quick to turn into a sobbing mess, unheedful of the saliva trickling from the corner of your mouth when you’re aware that it won’t take too long until you’d eventually break. just as the stimulation is becoming more overbearing, his hands clench on your supple flesh tighter in a silent command that tells you it’s not time to cum yet. 

after he’s satisfied with abusing the bud, he drags down his tongue and pumps inside your quivering hole, causing you to jolt in a delighted surprise. from the loud, lewd squelching sounds of your own fluid mixing with his spit, you can only picture the way he looks right now; face buried between your ass cheeks, nose deep in your cunt while his tongue works miraculously around your walls. 

even the image beyond the abyss itself makes you more delirious. 

“c-can’t–” you break into a muffled cry as your hips bucks into his mouth without conscious control. another harsh slap is what you receive, but you can’t seem to care when a thick fog of desire is already clouding your brain; making the pain and pleasure to become one divine fusion. 

bakugou’s blows don't stop with how much you’re grinding so earnestly on his face. your skin burns from the cruel attention, yet your cunt just keeps on seeping with slick that trickles down to his chin and drips down on the sheets beneath you. 

“you’re such a fucking pain slut.” he growls, hot breath fanning your greedy cunt and making the pressure even tighter in your stomach. “not yet.” his tongue is anything but languid; swirling hastily as it explores your little hole as far as he can reach. it’s obscene. the way that the muscle glides so smoothly.. the warmth, the moisture– 

next thing you know, your eyes are already rolled to the back of your eyelids as your body tenses while waves of gratification crash down throughout your entire being.

“cumming on daddy’s tongue without permission.” he tsks, giving one last spank before standing up at the edge of the bed as he burns the image of your quivering body into the back of his head, adorned by the red imprint of his hand on your pliant skin. “turn around.” 

without a spare moment to gather yourself, you get up on wobbly legs and arms, carefully turn around like a fawn taking its first baby steps and rebuild your senses at the same time to estimate where he currently stands until he tells you to stop. 

your eyes squint as they adjust to the subdued room, finally able to see faint light again after bakugou takes off the tie around your head. you look up to the older man, only to be pierced by a pair of carmine orbs and a disgruntled look on his face.

“you know what you did wrong.” a thin string of drool latches onto the panties when he pulls it out from your mouth to observe the drenched fabric between his thumb and pointer finger. “looks like you had a great time.” you can see how it’s embarrassingly soaked, but not as embarrassing as the amount of slick glistening around his lips and chin that he doesn’t even bother to wipe off.

“’m sorry, daddy.” you whisper hoarsely through dry throat while giving him your most remorseful look. it would’ve deceived him if he didn’t know any better, but receiving punishments is something he knows you’d enjoy.

the slight upturn at the corner of his lips etches into a lazy grin as he unfastens his belt and takes off his pants along with his briefs to release his erected cock– now standing proudly in front of your face. 

“what do you have to do now?” he hums, tapping the flushed tip on your lips as if moisturizing the parched skin with his leaking precum. 

“m-make daddy proud.” you shamelessly steal a taste, flattening your tongue out so he can rub it on your palate. 

“can’t fuckin’ understand you– cock hungry slut.” he chuckles with mirth, one hand tucking your hair behind each ear as his gaze softens for a moment. “but that’s why i fuckin’ love you.”

your lashes flutter as you stare up at him, heart blooming like flowers on a fresh start of spring after a harsh, cold winter as the words he uttered loops inside your head. with a content hum, you close your eyes and wrap your lips around his cock, eliciting a hiss from the male once engulfed in the warmth of your mouth. 

“shit, i haven’t even told you to suck me yet.” his own eyes follow suit, throwing his head back as his own hand finds home on top of your head. your eagerness makes it hard for him to stay mad. if he was younger he would’ve been a little irritated if someone tried to take control, but maybe aging really did something and made your whims seem more tolerable for him. but what he loves most is seeing you struggle to fit his fat cock; whether it’s by your mouth or your pussy.

“just like that,” his voice drops an octave, watching most of his length disappear inside your mouth while your tongue runs against his veins. “fuckin’ look at me when you’re suckin’.”

you submissively comply to his command, meeting those sharp eyes you adore beneath the tousled mess of his blond and white hair. 

“you love daddy’s cock?” he doesn’t intend to give you a second to answer before he continues,  “then you wouldn’t mind chokin’ on it, don’t ya?” 

you moan in response just as he expected and he snorts through his nose. “of course you don’t.”

bakugou brings your head closer, shoving down his cock your throat before he starts to snap his hips. a chorus of curses pass his lips, taut muscles relaxing as he drowns in euphoria. drool soon starts to dribble from the corner of your lips and your jaw starts to ache, yet you’re still insistent on accommodating his cock– using your tongue when you could until he’s exploding with a mouthful of oaths.

“such a good girl.” he grunts, holding your head firmly with tension in his fingers as he stares down at you with knitted brows. “feels good havin’ dick in your mouth? hm?”

“hmm–” you moan in concur, the vibration almost drives him mad and it’s evident through the twitch you feel against your hollowed cheeks. with an exasperated groan, he pulls out his cock from your mouth and pumps it in his fist. 

“take it off and lie down. now.” his words thrum through you in a burst of heat. you swiftly discard the dress and rest on your back, spreading your legs in front of him in anticipation before he proceeds to climb on the bed. you shudder when he spits on your cunt before smothering his cock against the slit and down to your entrance to give extra lubrication. 

a deep, inarticulate sound rips from his throat, one that conveys pleasure as he sheathes his cock inside you. he can feel your walls sucking him in so welcomingly and squeezing him so tight that he thought he might cum then and there.

“that’s fuckin’ tight.” he girts out, pushing through the walls until he has bottomed out. with each hand on the sides of your head, his large and shredded build looms on top of you and keeps your smaller frame caged underneath. 

“daddy– s-so big.” you extend your arms to cling around his neck, looking up at him with a lust addled gaze. 

“i know you can handle me, sweetheart.” he smirks conceitedly and starts to roll his hips, dragging every ridge and vein against your walls through each thrust. your toes curl when he goes deeper and your nails dig into his back, leaving crimson trails as they rake.

“l-love you, daddy.” the words slip past your lips so naturally in flawless manifestation of your genuine feelings towards him. 

you observe how his lips stretch into a simper, fiery and lustrous eyes staring back at you before he replies, “love you too, ba– fuck–” 

bakugou feels you clench around him impossibly tighter and he leans down to kiss you, forcing you to swallow down his moans as he ruts inside you harder and faster.

“baby– that’s right. daddy fuckin’ loves you.” his low and resonant voice fills your ears, pleasure pulling taut in your lower stomach as the pressure begins to build up rapidly for your second orgasm. “–and he loves this tight cunt.”

“ah– daddy! p-please make me cum–” you start to babble, too lost in pleasure and your legs find themselves wrapping around bakugou’s waist to keep him closer and deeper.

“don’t you fucking dare cum yet.” he snarls before lifting himself up to keep his hands on the headboard in front of him and instantly blocking your view of the room. not that you mind when you’ve already set your eyes on him the whole time. 

“no matter how many times i’ve fucked you–” he pulls out almost completely before ramming in again, making you squeal.  “you still feel so fucking good.”

your hands reach to cup his face gently, your lips parted and wet, eyes glazed with adoration and an overflowing want for him. “all for you.” 

he chuckles quietly to himself. who knew that he would find himself burying his cock in some dumb college girl? with her heart filled eyes that tell him he’s some kind of a savior or the last man on earth. whether it’s all superficial or not, he thinks you’re pretty damn good at it.

“you sure make it hard for daddy not to love you.” he scoffs. you let out a needy whine when he pulls out and your hole convulses, instantly missing the way his cock stretches you out and makes you feel full. 

but it’s not for long when your vision suddenly keels as he flips you over to lie down on your stomach. bakugou easily hoists up your hips and pushes down your back to force you into a perfect arch before he sinks his throbbing cock inside your sloppy cunt without warning. 

“nghh– daddy–!” you cry as bakugou pounds into you with a menacing pace and hits you at the right places at the same time. 

“yeah? you like it when daddy uses you like the little slut you are?” he grabs a fistful of your hair, jerking your head up. “like you’re nothing but my little cocksleeve?”

“yesyesyes– daddy–! s-so deep– can’t!” your strength begins to drain out and you don’t know how much longer you can hold yourself  before he allows you to cum.

“you can– fuck– you’re clamping down on me.” he growls, one hand on your hips forming crescent shapes on your skin with his fingers.

your jaw has fallen slack, mouth gaping in breathless whimpers as you let bakugou abuse your little cunny while your own hands are balling into fists that your knuckles turn white. the air is filled with the sound of skin slapping against each other, mingling with his heavy pants.

“you’re really– hah– milking this fat cock.” his own rhythm turns sporadic, skin burning red with every second he prolongs his desire.

“please– daddy–” you let out a feeble moan and your legs begin to tremble as a result of the unbearable pressure tightening in your lower stomach. your pussy is already leaking with so much slick and it’s making a filthy mess on the bed. 

“you’re ready to cum for daddy?” he fucks you harder with deep strokes, knocking the breath from your lungs each time he presses into you. 

“pleasepleaseplease–” tears prickle from the corner of your eyes as the coil in your stomach threatens to snap.

“cum.” 

the word left his lips in a pure command and you break down instantly with a loud cry. a huge wash of pleasure winds its way through every nerve and your pussy gushes and clenches around his cock. 

“that’s it. good girl.” a deep growl rumbles in his chest as he observes every twitch of pleasure he has brought into you. 

“th-thank you, daddy.” you mumble, still deeply doused in ecstasy.

bakugou finally releases his harsh grip and your head plops down on the soft pillow while he pulls out and pumps his cock in his own fist, coated with your own arousal before he splurts thick ropes of cum all over your cheeks and watches as it trickles down to your cunt. 

after a brief moment of catching his breath, bakugou reaches for the nearest tissue box and helps to clean off the mess you both made. you let your exhausted body fall onto the mattress and he throws the used tissues away before leaning back on the headboard next to you, still panting and trying to get down from his high. 

“you okay?” he breaks the silence, flicking his gaze towards you and rubs your head gently in hopes to soothe the pain he caused from pulling your hair so roughly. 

you hum, seeking for solace from his touch as he pulls the blanket up to cover your bodies and reaches for his phone on the nightstand with his other hand. you silently observe him as he looks at his phone, probably reading and scrolling through emails or texts like he’d usually do after having you wrecked. 

“love you, daddy.” you suddenly squeak, yet bakugou doesn’t tear his eyes from the screen and it leaves you unsure if he heard you or not. 

“hm.” his response is indifferent and your stomach churns into an unpleasant feeling; one you don’t appreciate at all. 

“daddy.” you swallow past the lump in your throat. “i said i love you.”

bakugou clicks his tongue and your heart shatters slightly at the sound, thinking that you probably just annoyed him, “yeah, i heard you.”

“bakugou.” you suddenly snap and the hand on top of your head stills. you don’t know where the courage to call him by his name comes from, but you want to convey your sobriety over the current situation and for what you’re about to say next. cold shivers run down your spine once his attention diverges towards you and he raises a questioning brow, ushering you to speak. 

“i-i love you–” you gulp, taking a deep breath. “like, i’m in love with you.” 

his stare is impassive and there’s an uncomfortable silence weighing the air between the two of you. your cheeks begin to warm up with humiliation and a part of you dreads with regret. you aren’t sure how long the deafening silence lasted before you see a twitch at the corner of his lips. 

“you gotta be kidding me.” he snickers, shaking his head in disbelief. 

you rise up on your side and your eyes waver with confusion as you look at him. “b-but you said you love me too. you do, r-right?”

he scoffs, mostly galled by the fact that he’s actually having this conversation with you– a dumb college girl, but he doesn’t expect much either. “why the hell would i be in love with you? did i knock your head?”

getting straight to the point is one of bakugou’s nature; his bluntness is like a sharp knife that stabs you in the heart. 

“but you said–”

“why do you think i only said it when i had my cock buried inside your cunt?”

and it twists painfully. 

“forget about it. go to sleep.” he nonchalantly replies and returns back to his phone, brushing off the wounded look that’s written all over your face.

you feel humiliated, angered and disregarded. given that you were always spoiled, you can’t stand having your feelings unreciprocated and rejection is one of the things you aren’t familiar with.

“why? because you have a wife? you don’t even love her–”

you flinch when you hear the loud thud of bakugou slamming his phone down on the bed, but it’s not as fearsome as the malicious glare he’s shooting at you. “don’t you fucking say that. i don’t wanna hear that, especially coming from a dumb whore like you.”

harsh reality gives you a massive slap in the face. 

your heart is hammering against your chest and your vision begins to blur as tears well up in your eyes, threatening to spill out. you feel like you want to scream at him but the words you want to say only get caught in your throat. bakugou notices how you’re about to burst but he only rolls his eyes, expressing his vexation. 

“god,” he sighs exasperatedly and gets off from the bed to pick up his clothes from the floor. “the last thing i need is another fucking nuisance.”

“w-where are you going?” you croak as you watch him put on his clothes. 

bakugou turns to your direction and snarls, “what does it look like? leaving.” 

the pain in your chest becomes harder to bear, fat tears start to roll down your cheeks and when you try to reach for him, he coldly shoves your hand away. you saw how furious he could be through his phone calls but you were never on the receiving end; always the one who calmed him down and let him use you as a way to take out his frustrations on. now you’re nothing different than the rest of the people in his life, or maybe you were just too stupid to realize that you were never any different before too. 

“just leave when it’s time to check out. you’d know at least that much.” he scoffs as he walks to the door and twists the doorknob before turning back to you for what it seems would be the last time. 

“and don’t even think of finding me again.”

duskamethyst © 2020 • do not modify, translate or repost anywhere.

[angelamajiki]

[ peace treaty - part two ]

AN: my first banner that I made for a fic!! Please enjoy and mind the tags as always!! :)

CW: yandere, noncon, loss of virginity, double penetration, coercion, gang bang, A/B/O dynamics, size difference, slight tummy bulge, cum stuffing, breeding

PART ONE

SYNOPSIS: The wedding to ensure peace for your kingdom was underway. Your alphas had been insistent that you met your new pack and give your virginity to them the night of your wedding. You could only wonder why.

The village of the Barbarian tribe was full of the hustle and bustle of wedding preparations being made for their leading Alphas and their newfound Omega mate. You could hear the rushing of bodies outside the tented den the pair kept you confined to. They were insistent on keeping you within their firm grasp, their watchful eyes at all times. It was exhausting, so say the least. The time spent in the village was theirs, not your own. Their tenderness almost made you forget the circumstances on which you fell into their laps. Almost.

Hardly anyone else in the village had seen you thanks to your red-headed mate. Dragons rarely let anyone but their pack near their hoard, and Eijirou was more than happy to declare you his most precious treasure of all, the centerpiece of his store. The hybrid was tempted to keep you with the rest of his treasures, but his other mate decided against it, demanding that you stay warm in the nest during the blistering winter that ravaged the mountain range.

They kept in the nest for as long as you would tolerate it, adoring the way you looked wrapped snuggly in the furs they had slain and prepared for you. The den was soon furnished with a small library for your curious mind, one of many wedding presents that your mates intended to spoil you with. Your mates were desperate for your approval, to preen and puff their chests in pride from your praise. In fact, one of the only times you were let out before the wedding was to watch wrestling matches between the Alphas of the clan and their leaders on the warmer days. It was a prominent display of strength, the pair hoping to impress their lovely mate with their fists and muscles. The other times, they had taken you to Eijirou’s cave to flaunt his hoard, which they welcomed you to take anything you liked from it as it was now yours too.

Winter flew by quickly. In those few months, preparations for your spring wedding were well underway as your mates took their agonizing time to stake their claim on you. The pair of them were insistent on waiting until the wedding night to be fully bonded but did not spare you any pleasure they wished to bestow you. The ecstasy they brought you night after night was earth-shattering, something you never even dreamed you could have achieved.

A spring wedding was to be had, and the wait was finally over. Your dress was designed of the most delicate silk hand-made in the tribe, dipped in beautiful red and gold dyes to match your mate's garments. Precious jewels and other gold jewelry was selected from the dragon's hoard by none other than Eijirou himself. Traditional paint was brushed onto your face and arms with expert craftsmanship, adorning your glowing skin with the clan's insignia and other symbols held dear to the Barbarians.

Meeting your mates down the aisle and finally being wed to them felt like a weight had been lifted off of your shoulders. For months, you had worried that their threat to destroy your home would see to its fruition, but now that you're finally their wife and mate, the treaty had been completed. Perhaps your mates would be kind enough to let you see your family after the celebration.

Festivities were planned for days to celebrate the new queen and pack mate of the tribe’s leaders. Being out of the den and meeting the clansmen felt like a breath of fresh air after being secluded for those few months up until the wedding. You could only hope that your husbands would allow this new freedom to continue.

Food, drink, and dancing went well into the early morning hours before you decided it was time to retire to your den. Buzzing with anticipation, you let Katsuki lead you home with a scarred hand on the small of your back, reminding you just how small you were in comparison to your Alphas. Tonight was the night that you submitted utterly and entirely to your mates. It was overwhelming, almost enough to give you cold feet.

Upon returning to the tented den, you were met with your new pack, the Alphas that Eijirou and Katsuki introduced you to earlier that day during the ceremony. TestsuTetsu, leader of the clan’s warriors. Sero and Denki, leading blacksmiths and protectors of the armory. Izuku, also known as Deku, leading military strategist. And Hitoshi, the tribe’s mage.

The tent’s magic flaps had sealed themselves once you and your mates made it inside with the rest of the pack, who were already waiting for you. Unease had swelled in your gut as you saw the hungry gleams in all the Alpha's eyes. Did they have the intention to watch while you bonded with your mates?

“Be easy, my love.”

Eijirou’s hands came to your shoulders in an attempt to soothe you as he guided you to your nest.

“Although you will be our mate, you will still be the pack’s omega.”

You nodded slowly, having already understood that much, but it still didn't explain why the rest of the pack was suffocating the space of your den.

“That means you will have to form a bond with all of us. We intend to share you with the pack tonight.”

Panic filled your being as you stood up from the nest, only to be pinned down into the redhead’s lap with his powerful arms. His hands rubbed soothing circles in your arms as he felt you squirm in his hold.

“There’s no reason to be afraid, my queen!” Izuku piped up as he flashed a reassuring smile. “This is the best way to ensure that you will give healthy pups to the pack and the clan.”

Tears and pleas dribbled out as you thrashed in your Alpha’s arms, desperate to claw your way out of his grip and away from the new pack.

“Stop yer fussin’,” Katsuki grunted as he took his place next to the both of you. “We’ll be right here the whole time. Besides, it’ll be a good way for the pack to bond. We wouldn't want anything to happen to your territory, now would we?”

Chuckles filled the room as you sobbed in absolute terror.

“Please! I don't want this! Don't make me do this; I'm begging you!”

A fatal mistake on your part is that you forgot who these men were. Barbarians who snatched, steal, and take whatever they please, whenever they please. Your mates were capable of tenderness, but only when it seemed to benefit them. And it didn't at this moment.

Eijirou was quick to quell your cries as he stroked your hair gently while Katsuki tied your hands together. The redhead whispered sweet nothings in your ear in an attempt to soothe his lovely omega. You were practically hog-tied into your nest as the blonde ripped your dress to shreds with his magic, your struggling between the pair of them frustrating him deeply.

“Enough fucking around. Omega, submit.”

Unable to deny such a command, you went still under your overbearing husband. How quickly he changed once you truly denied him for the first time...it frightened you. The men around you tried to croon and calm, wanting to put your wailing cries at ease. You had barely been touched and you already felt violated by being naked and bound before your new pack. Oh, things you had to endure to protect your kingdom.

Katsuki was overzealous, eager to be the first to pop your cherry and finally feel the velvet of his omega’s hole. A searing mouth sealed itself over your clit as thick fingers worked you open. Your mate was relentless, fucking your hole with vigor as his tongue sucked and lapped against your clit. The wanton groaning of the other Alphas met your squeals and cries as you clenched around your mate’s fingers, wishing desperately to sink into your nest of furs and never return.

Eijirou kissed you deeply, stroking away your tears and holding your chin in his scarred palm. The other Alphas hands groped, massaged, and grabbed at your supple skin, leaving no inch untouched. All of them ignored your sobbing, electing to see past your suffering for the good of the pack.

“So beautiful.”

“What a great pick you two made.”

“Hurry up and mount her Kats! I want to get in there too!”

Your Alpha continued his brutal pace of finger fucking and suckling on your clit, groaning and grunting as he slurped at you greedily. A tight coil of pleasure built in your core as you helplessly moaned and cried into Eijirou’s mouth. Katsuki felt your impending orgasm and pulled his mouth away in favor of rubbing your clit hard and fast with his unoccupied hand. He chuckled, watching you squirm and squeal loudly before coming undone, squirting all over his chest in the process.

The Alphas jeered and praised you for a good show as Katsuki chuckled.

“Now that’s what I’m fuckin’ talking about. Good girl, little omega. Ready for knot?”

A wolfish grin cast on his features as he hiked your ankles up to his shoulders. Cock lines up with your still twitching whole; he sunk into your tight heat in one stroke of his hips. A breathy gasp left you as you were filled to the brink.

The pace he set with his thrusts was unforgiving; a bruising grip laid on your love handles as you were pounded into the nest, making a mess of the furs strewn across it. Snarls and grunts left your captor’s lips all the while. The other Alphas around you stroked their cocks heartily, eagerly waiting for their turns to have a go and breed their new pack omega. Squeals and cries of unwanted pleasure quickly filled your gut as you came again, forcing you to arch your back into the blonde’s chest. Overstimulation hit you like a freight train as your mate continued to chase his own pleasure.

Eijirou brushed the hair from your sweaty forehead and swiped gently at your tears, watching his two mates finally tie the knot and love each other in the most primal, intimate ways they knew. What a fine choice for a mate you turned out to be—loyal, lovely, loud. Your sobs and cries of pleasure were music to the dragon’s ears, adoring the way you shook and convulsed underneath the other Alpha. Toying with your nipples gently, he shushed your protests with a kiss and held his free hand to your throat, stroking the sides tenderly.

Katsuki, on the other hand, was practically feral, animalistic in his movements as he popped his knot into your tight cunt with a roar of your name. Ropes of hot seed painted your womb as he held you tightly in his arms, riding his orgasm out to completion.

Nothing but groans and pants could be heard for a few moments as your Alpha bent down to lay a claiming mark on the glands of your neck. He tore into the flesh with passion, leaving a trail of blood that dripped down your sweaty chest. Laving at the mark with his tongue, he sealed the bond and slurped up the blood. Extending his neck, he pushed your head into his crook.

“Bite, complete the bond.”

Like an obedient breeding bitch, you listened mindlessly, mind foggy with the haze of your orgasms.

After his knot had deflated, Eijirou moved to mount your sloppy hole.

“Guess the rest of you are getting my sloppy seconds,” Katsuki smirked, admiring the way his seed dripped from your now loose hole.

Eijirou was more tender than his counterpart, taking his time with his sweet, sweet lovemaking. Possessive and sweet nothings were moaned and groaned from him—bite marks littered your chest and mouth. His thrusts with slow and deep, wanting a slow build to both of your orgasms as he lavished you in his undivided attention. Kisses and bites were pressed sweetly to your lips, and his tongue tasted the salt of your skin.

Your whimpers and moans mingled with his deep, rolling groans while the others were content to watch such a passionate display of Eijirou’s adoration for his Omega. Laying his claim as he came, the knot popped the moment as he bit into your wrist, suckling at the wound he left behind. Even after he deflated, he cockwarmed you for a while so you could rest and have a much-needed drink of water.

After Eijirou’s cock slipped out of your cunt, the rest was a murky blur in your memory. Izuku followed your redheaded mate, losing himself quickly to the vice of your wet and sloppy pussy. He came rather quickly, apologizing for only finishing himself off. He had to, for the sake of pups, of course. Not that any of their words mattered to you, you were too drunk off the mating bonds your mates laid into your virgin skin.

TetsuTetsu succeeded Izuku, and much like Katsuki, he was an animal. Loud slaps of skin filled the den as he praised you for being such a good omega for your Alphas. Bear them your healthy pups like a good girl, won't you? His stamina was high, too high for your liking. Slipping in and out of consciousness, you barely made recognition to his knot swelling in your hole. He was by far the biggest of the pack. Another load pumped into the pack’s personal cumdumpster, but he made sure to make you squeal and squirt on his cock.

Any defiance in you had died by the time Sero and Denki speared you on their cocks. What they lacked in girth, they made up for in length. They both greedily stuffed themselves into your pussy at the same time, one rubbing your clit while the other tugged at your nipples. Only one knot caught inside you while Denki’s popped just below your clit, making an even bigger mess to your already sloppy pussy.

Finally, Hitoshi cast a fertility ward on your womb, marked by the pack’s emblem to ensure pregnancy and a healthy one at that. An average knot, he finished himself within your already full womb, a small bulge appearing in your gut because of it. A plug was stuffed inside you to keep the pack’s seed deep within your cunt, to ensure pregnancy of the pack’s pups.

Once the sun broke over the dawn of the mountains, the pack exited the tent to leave you to your Alphas. They spent the morning bathing and feeding you, wanting to pamper you after such an exciting yet stressful evening. The pair hoped you would come around to be shared by the pack; how else will they get you through your heats and their ruts? That's a problem for another day, they supposed.

After a long, well-deserved rest in a now cleaned nest, Eijirou was ecstatic to share the news of their newest surprise. A honeymoon! Oh, the places they planned to fly you to.

As you listened to their plans, you couldn't help but gaze off into the next morning’s sun, wondering if this life was worth it for the sake of peace.

[litgwritersroom]

Request:

Please do a Tai smut I miss that big friendly giant x

FOLLOW YOUR INSTINCTS

S3 | Tai | 3100+ words | @mrsbsmooth

As requested. But it has a plotline!

Fun Fact: Calling someone an egg in NZ is very common and is a harmless / endearing insult. Similar to calling someone a sausage.

__________

“Ref!” Matiu yelled, getting right up in the ref’s face. “Come on! Are you fuckin’ blind? They’re collapsing the scrum!”

The ref took a step back, clearly a little frightened. He nodded and blew his whistle, calling the penalty. 

“That’s how it’s done” Matiu whispered to him.

Tai frowned. He looked up at the clock. Twenty-two seconds left in the half.

16-16. 

“Go for the line, go for the line” Matiu whispered.

“What? No! He’s gotta take the two!” Tai whispered. “There’s no guarantee they’ll make it over the line. And the front row are so tired, a line break’s pretty much a guarantee.”

Jared, his halfback, looked over, and Matiu motioned for him to go for the line. He furrowed his brow, and played the ball, only for the other team to intercept it, break through their defensive line, and go flying up the other end of the field to score a try. The kick followed, and the scoreline updated. 

Fuckin’ called it. Tai thought, frustrated.

"Fuckin' shit." Matiu raged, kicking the grass, scowling at everyone and no one in particular.

16-22

The clock wound down, and the buzzer rang out.

Half-time.

The teams both headed into the sheds, and Tai followed, clipboard and notes in hand. 

Matiu was already shouting at them by the time he made it in. 

“Alright, alright, shut up, shut up” He called. “Mikey, two of those tries have been on your wing. Sort your shit out. Front row, none of your faces are pretty enough to worry about losing teeth to a knee knock. Wrap their legs up.”

Tai looked around the disheartened faces of the team. They didn’t need to be ripped a new one right now. 

He smiled at Jared and Mikey, who immediately knew what he was about to say.

“Front row, you hear that?”

The team beamed at him. Tai’s voice echoed around the locker room as he started. “To the windowwwwwwwwwwww”

“To the wall!” The team called back, as Tai did a slut drop, twerking hard, making the boys crack up laughing. They joined in, dancing, singing, and hyping up as best they could, despite their exhaustion from the difficult half. An entire locker-room of sweaty rugby players all dancing to Get Low.

As he finished hyping them up, and they settled back to rehydrate, looking far more relaxed. Matiu pulled him aside. He lowered his voice, the wrinkles on his old, old face pronounced as he frowned at him. 

“Tai, we spoke about this. You've got a very, very high football IQ, but you need to get serious. If you’re ever going to make it to coaching a national team, you can’t be so buddy-buddy with the boys. You’ve gotta step up, mate.”

Tai sighed. “I know. I know.”

"It's called leadership. Your instincts for it will mature, with time." Matiu clapped him on the back. “How about you take over for the second half? You need practice. Plus, I think I need to sit for a bit.”

Tai nodded and made his way back out to the field. He went to fill up his water bottle, but saw a commotion on the side of the field. The ref was lying on the ground, hand on his leg, which was quite obviously twisted at an odd angle. He rushed over, joining the crowd to see if he was okay.

“He managed to trip over a rogue footy, and went flying. Fuckin’ egg.”

Tai chuckled softly and looked down at who’d said it. A petite, pretty blonde, covered in piercings. He smiled at her, and she winked at him. 

Damn.

Matiu made his way out, practically tripping over the ref, and panicking. “Are there any other qualified referees here?”

Blonde metalface put her hand up. “Yeah, I can ref if you want.”

Tai’s eyebrows raised, and he smiled at her wider. 

Matiu frowned. “Anyone else?”

She frowned back. “Mate, I’m NZRL qualified.”

“Still prefer someone a little…. er… more experienced.”

Tai looked at Matiu, knowing exactly why Matiu didn’t want her refereeing. Part of the generation that thought girls could only be vaguely interested in Rugby if their dads or boyfriends were. 

“Bro” he said, disapprovingly.

Everyone was frowning at Matiu. He rolled his eyes. “Fine.”

Tai glanced down at Metalface. “Sorry about him, ref. I’m head coach for this half.”

She glared at Matiu, then back at Tai, and said nothing, just turning on her heel and making her way over to the office to change. Tai picked the ref up, helping him into a chair, and followed Matiu back to their side.

*****

Later, in the Rugby Club’s bar.

16-34. 

Every. Single. Fucking. Call. 

Tai was meant to be the one coaching. He was the one meant to be dealing with the Referee. Matiu had gotten up in the ref’s face for every single fucking call. But, to her credit, Metalface didn’t seem intimidated by him whatsoever.

The calls that had gone their way, he’d been freaking out so much about what Matiu had said, he’d completely gone against his instincts, and made the play he thought Matiu would make. Matiu nodded at him approvingly after every one, but it backfired. Every. Single. Time.

“I swear to god I’ll have her fucking stripped of her license” Matiu said, taking a large, frustrated gulp from his beer.

“Come on, bro. A lot of that was me making bad calls. Besides, this game didn’t matter for us anyway. We’ve already made it through qualifying. It’s not that big of a deal.” Tai sipped at his, pensively. 

Matiu drained his. “Fuck it. I’m too old for this shit. I’ve told you time and time again that you need to take this more seriously. You’re as thick as your neck, Tai. What fuckin’ good are you if you don’t even have the balls to rip the Ref a new one when they deserve it?”

Matiu stood, grabbing his keys from the bar, and shook his head. “See you at practice, assistant coach.”

******

Tai sat quietly for a little while, mulling over his beer. He hated this part of the job. The part where he had to not be himself. Where he had to yell at people. To pull it together and act all professional. Should he start showing up to games in a suit, like Matiu? He loved walking around in his training jersey. It made him feel like he and the guys were on the same side. He got them. He knew them. And he knew how to help them win. He didn’t get why everything had to get more complicated than that.

Just as he was finishing his beer, he saw her. She was on the other side of the bar. He called the bartender over. 

“Oi, Jimmy, her beer's on me. And give us another one, yeah?”

Jimmy poured two pints, one in front of Tai, and went over to Metalface, dropping the pint in front of her. She looked up, surprised, and Tai tipped his glass at her, nodding an acknowledgement at her, before taking a big sip. She chuckled, and walked directly over. 

She’d changed out of her Ref’s jersey, and back into her denim shorts and t-shirt combo. She placed the drink in front of him, and chuckled. 

“What’d you put in it?”

Tai’s eyes went wide. “What?”

“What is it? Piss? Cyanide?”

He chuckled. “Nah, didn't have time. Unfortunately just beer.”

“Well, if you’re anything like your other coach, I’m not drinking it.”

Tai frowned at her. “It’s more of a sorry. Matiu was pretty awful. And a thanks for picking up the game for us.”

“Yeah, but if the game had been cancelled, it would’ve looked much better for your for-and-against scores at the end of the season.”

Shit. He hadn’t even thought of that. 

“Shit. You’re right.”

He smirked, and picked up her glass, pretending he was about to walk off with it. “I just need to take this to the bathroom for a sec.”

She cracked up laughing, and he grinned at her.

“I’m Tai, by the way.”

“Maddy. Good to know you’re not gonna lose your shit like the other one.”

“Yeah, not my style. I’m not gonna rip you a new one just because we lost.”

“Mmm. That’s a shame.”

Tai glanced down at her, and raised an eyebrow.

Was this on? He got a gut feeling this was on.

"Ahhh, you referees. You just can't get enough of me. Throwing games on purpose just to get my attention."

Maddy laughed loudly, "Yep, that's exactly what it was. You got me. You losing had nothing to do with your shitty coaching calls."

“I knew it. It was all your fault. You were just riling me up.”

“Yep. You got me. Wanted to get you a bit angry. See if you would 'rip me a new one'”

Maddy bit her lip, looking him up and down.

Oh yeah, it's on.

*****

It was only about ten more minutes before he had Maddy up against the wall in the locker rooms. He lifted her t-shirt, letting his hands glide over her waist, the smell of the locker room shower gel filling the air. She must’ve showered after the game. He’d always hated the smell of it.  but on her, it smelled incredible.

She had her hands in his hair as she kissed him, pulling the hair tie out of his ponytail, as she pulled his jersey over his head. She bit her lip as she admired his shirtless body, running her hands over his tattoos, her lip ring disappearing invitingly inside her mouth as she bit it. He leaned down, kissing where it had disappeared, and she moaned, wrapping her arms around his neck. 

He raised an eyebrow. Maybe…

He tested his theory, bringing his mouth to her ear, flicking one of the many, many bars there with his tongue. She gasped into him. He growled his approval into her and kissed down her neck. Her bra was strapless, so he reached behind her, unclasping it, wondering if his theory was… yep.

As soon as she slipped her bra off, he saw them. Nipples pierced.

“So, the piercings are where you like to be kissed, hey?”

Maddy’s mouth curled at the sides in an amused smirk. “You’ve got good instincts.”

He winked at her, drawing one of her nipples into his mouth. He had to basically crouch down to do so, she was so much shorter than him. But as he flicked his tongue gently over the metal bars, the reaction she gave made him literally not care whatsoever. He switched to her other breast, gently kissing it, letting his tongue trace around the bar, Maddy’s lips parted, her breath heavy as he did. 

Tai grinned to himself, as he dropped completely to his knees. He deftly undid the zip on her shorts, slipping them off her legs with her underwear. He could already see the small bar between them. Clit piercing. 

He liked Maddy.

He chuckled, and grabbed her ankle, lifting her leg over his shoulder. He brought his lips to her, tracing his tongue over the bar, gently kissing her clit. She jolted underneath him, and he pressed harder against her. He looked up, eying the distance, and judged the ceiling as being high enough to do what he was about to do. 

He lifted her other leg over his shoulder, taking her full weight, and stood, sliding her up the wall until he was standing at his full height, his face between her legs. 

She squealed slightly, her arms reaching out to press her hands against the ceiling. “Oh my god, don’t drop me.”

He pulled back, kissing her thighs. “I’m not gonna drop you. You weigh like, nothing.”

Her t-shirt was lifted almost all the way up to her chin, but other than that, she was completely naked. She was completely exposed to him. 

He continued to work his mouth against her, and she relaxed, being able to do absolutely nothing except let him do what he was doing. Her hands were in his hair, and he groaned into her as she started to pull it. Her moans started to build, and his tongue found its rhythm against her.

“Oh my god, Tai, fuck, yes.”

He groaned into her as she pulled his head harder against her, his tongue pressed against the small bar, as Maddy went completely silent. Her mouth fell open and her eyebrows furrowed as she came against his mouth, her legs clamping around his head as he rode her through it. She tapped his head to release her, and he set her down gently, but she wasn’t done with him yet. Maddy dropped to her knees, and reached her hand into his shorts, pulling his cock out with almost zero hesitation.

“Oh mad, twinsies” she smiled. She ran her tongue along his own very intimate piercing.

He stuck his tongue out slightly, biting it, the cheeky gesture making her smile. 

She stuck her tongue out fully in return, showing off her tongue piercing, and he shuddered as she ran it along the underside of his cock. He planted his hands on the wall behind her, and she took his tip in her mouth, the gentle suction of her mouth making Tai groan with pleasure.

She worked up and down him, and he watched her with great interest, eventually dropping one hand to the back of her head. She pulled back, swirling her tongue around his tip, paying special attention to the piercing at his sensitive tip. 

He pulled her head back, and reached down, lifting her to her feet. She watched with anticipation as he reached for his wallet. He pulled out a condom, and rolled it on. 

“Fuck you’re tall” she laughed. 

“I’m not tall. You’re just short. Maybe that’s why you missed so many penalties. Couldn’t see.”

She scoffed with laughter, and he smirked at her. He sat on the bench behind him, pulling her toward him, and she straddled him. He angled himself toward her, and she groaned as she lowered down on top of him. 

“Oh fuck, Tai, yes” 

Fuck she felt good.

He kissed her hard as she rode him, his hands on her toned, tight ass, pulling her against him. His enormous hands all over her, his arms wrapped around her. He spread his legs wider, desperately trying to fuck her as deeply as he could without hurting her. 

“Fuck, fuck, you feel so good” She gasped “Fuck, I’m getting close again”

Tai stopped, holding her completely still. Then, his hands under her ass, he stood, pressing her back against the wall. She looked wildly at him, her eyes wide with need as she tried to push her hips against him. Finding herself completely at his mercy, she groaned at him with disapproval.

“You gave us bad calls on purpose” he whispered, raising an eyebrow at her.

“I was only joking” she groaned, trying to rock her hips against his. “Come on”

He withdrew from her, a cheeky smirk on his face, only giving her the tip of him. “Admit it”

“Tai, come on, fuck me”

“Admit it.”

“But it’s not true!” She groaned, laughing.

“Do you want to come again, or not?” He asked, playfully.

The cheeky grin on his face made her laugh. He wasn’t serious. He was just fucking with her. She grinned, and then screwed her nose up at him in disapproval.

“I did it on purpose, Tai. All the calls. I did it on purpose so you’d lose.”

“I knew it” he chuckled, as he bent his knees slightly. He thrust up into her, hard. His hands were completely splayed on her, pulling her against him as he thrust into her. He tortured her, watching her tits bounce with each thrust, as again, she could do nothing except allow him to hold her legs open while he fucked her, her arms around his enormous shoulders, hands twisted in his thick hair. 

“Fuck, yes, Tai, yes, yes”.

Her mouth opened, and her head pressed back into the wall as he fucked her into oblivion, knowing his piercing would be pressing on her G-spot each time he passed it. Her moans were perfectly timed with it, and she seemed to be shuddering each time he thrust into her. 

“Fuck, Tai, I’m coming, I’m coming”

He groaned as her walls gripped his cock, trying to hold onto his rhythm for as long as he could. She felt so fucking good. So fucking tight. 

As soon as she inhaled again, he dropped her legs, and turned her around, pressing back into her from behind, the change of position allowing him to pull her on and off him with the depth he so desperately needed. Her hands were pressed against the wall, and it was only a few more thrusts before he followed her off the edge. She rocked her hips back against him as he came, his fingers gripping her hips tightly as he groaned. They were a tangled mess of sweat by the time he’d come down from it. He leaned over the top of her his hand on the wall, careful not to put his weight on her, and she giggled. 

“I thought for sure you were about to stick it in my ass”

He laughed heartily “Damn, didn’t realise that was an option”

“Well, you said you were going to rip me a new one, so…”

“Ahhh, next time then.”

He pulled out of her, discarding the condom, and she turned to face him. She started redressing, but paused. “What do you mean, next time?”

Tai grinned at her. “Well, it’s quarter-finals next week. And if our regular Ref’s out, they’re gonna need a new one.”

Maddy laughed “Oh, and here I was thinking that was you saying you were gonna call me.”

Tai wrapped his arms around her, tilting her chin up, and kissing her. “Can I?”

Maddy wrapped her arms around him. “I dunno. I don’t want to seem compromised if I do end up reffing for you.”

*****

“Sub Mikey out. He’s lagging.” Matiu hissed.

Tai shook his head. “No. Mikey plays for thirty minutes each half. The lag only lasts for a minute. He’ll get his second wind in a sec, and he’ll–”

Tai’s voice was drowned out by the crowd, who cheered Mikey on as he went flying up the sideline to put the ball down over the line for a try. Tai motioned to the field, demonstrating his point.

As soon as the other team got the ball, though, one of the other team seemed to get straight past Mikey and run all the way down the other end to score a try. 

Matiu smiled smugly. 

But Tai saw it. Mikey had been held back by one of the other team.

“Ref!” Tai called “Obstruction on twelve!”

Maddy nodded at him, and went to confer with the sideline judges, who agreed, overturning the other team’s try.

Matiu stood silently, his mouth open at the scoreboard.

44-6

 “I don’t get it. This referee hated us, last week.”

“Mmm. Funny that.” Tai laughed. 

“Did you talk to her?” Matiu said, his eyes sparkling. 

“Yep”

“D’you rip her a new one?” He beamed. 

Tai smiled at Maddy, who overheard the comment. “Nah. Not yet. But I told her I was gonna.”

Matiu looked prouder than Tai had ever seen him. “See, this is what I wanted to see from you, Tai. It takes real initiative to go and handle it like that. Big guy like you, I’m sure you talked some sense into her.”

Maddy overheard that one, too, and Tai could see her shoulders shaking a little with laughter. She glanced over at him, and he winked at her.

“Oh yeah, for sure, mate. Just had to trust my instincts”

[dadsbongos]

Hi, sorry I know this may be a strange ask but if you want could I ask for a Mistsuki Bakugou x daughter reader. Where reader rips into her about how broken Katsuki is and how he feels like he will never be good enough and how she’s not helping the situation by berating him and calling him weak. Sorry if it seems odd I would just like some angst :) enjoy your day/night.

not a strange ask at all nonny, i quite enjoyed it actually :) and thank you, i hope you also have a nice day/night

also i know you said angst but it kinda turned into angst -> fluff :( oops

Request for: Katsuki Bakugou (Platonic) Warnings: Mitsuki’s insulting of katsuki :(, not proofread Word Count: 725 ~~~

Mitsuki’s making dinner when she says it,

“If you weren’t so weak, you never would’ve gotten caught and caused all that trouble!”

You knew what your mom meant to do, and you knew she wasn’t a horrible person, but the way she went about it left a sour taste on your tongue. Katsuki spent his entire life being praised - she just wanted to release some of the arrogance within him, but her method was bitter.

Katsuki wouldn’t give a physical reaction to those words anymore, as though he’d accepted them as true.

And maybe he had.

It made you think about each night that Katsuki would come to your room, lip trembling and lashes barely containing the tears ready to burst. He was shaky and hesitant and his hands would pull at his hair while he spoke of his fears coming to fruition. That Izuku - Deku - was catching up. Deku would surpass him and he was standing still. Deku, the weak nerd from their childhood, was going to be stronger and faster and smarter and better - better - than he was. And he wasn’t advancing at all. He’d cry. Bakugou, Katsuki - your baby brother - would cry in your arms, too scared to talk to your parents out of fear that his own mother would only mock these fears.

Heartbreak was a light case for what you’d experience as you held your sobbing little brother.

“He isn’t weak,” you’d never stood up for him until now and you know you’ll regret not doing it sooner. You already do. You wish you’d stopped her the first time.

Katsuki raises his head at your words, brows furrowed as if that would get you to stop talking.

“Well, yeah, he has a strong quirk but still,” your mother shakes her head, “It’s his fault…”

“It’s never anybody’s fault they get kidnapped and putting them down for it is fucking evil,” you walk towards your mother, “Suggesting that your own son wasn’t strong enough and that’s why he was taken it- it- “

“It what?” she challenges, narrowing her eyes at you.

“It makes you a bad mom, let alone person.”

“Oh, so I’m just the worst mother ever, aren’t I? I fed, clothed, and housed you and I’m just awful for that!”

Before Katsuki can jump in and stop you from going on, you nod and grab your car keys from the counter.

“Yeah, doing the bare minimum doesn’t make you a great parent. You don’t get to have kids, care for them, and then mock them for being ‘weak’ and still play the victim card,” you stare at your mother, “Katsuki deserves better than this.”

As you walk away, you pull your brother by his shirt so he follows you out to your car.

“You come back here right now!”

You don’t come back.

You take Katsuki out to a drive thru for dinner.

“Sorry for never saying anything earlier.”

“‘s fuckin’ fine. I didn’t ask you to say anything.”

“But I should’ve. You’re my little brother, Katsuki. It’s my job to take care of you.”

“I’m sixteen. I can take care of my damn self.”

“But I should look out for you.”

He doesn’t respond, merely continues to eat in the passenger seat, checking the clock every few minutes. As if it would magically take you both home and avoid Mitsuki’s wrath.

But he knows better.

Nothing can get you out of Mitsuki’s anger.

“The hag’ll be pissed.”

“Then we’ll wait her out.”

Katsuki gives you a quizzical stare, “We can’t just stay out all fuckin’ night,” he glances at the clock, “I have to go to fuckin’ bed some time.”

“Oh my God, we get it, you go to bed at 8:30,” you roll your eyes, “You’re a toddler.”

“I’m not a toddler, I’m responsible.”

“Hm, Dad’s responsible and he goes to bed at ten.”

“Well, when I’m fucking well-fucking-rested and you’re an exhausted asshole, don’t whine to me.”

“Okay, toddler.”

“I’m gonna beat the shit out of you,” he huffs.

You know it’s a meaningless, empty threat. It’s Katsuki’s way of joking, morbid and violent as it is. But banter with Katsuki means you at least succeeded in getting his mind to stray from Mitsuki’s words. Because he didn’t deserve that. He was a kid that needed maturing, but he wasn’t a villain.

He wasn’t weak.

[mara-xx217]

C-could we have more of the Bo and reader angst, maybe Bo finds her in the next down over and they finally resolve feelings? 👉🏻👈🏻

Oh Lord... I don't know if ya'll are ready for this. Better buckle up cause this angst train ain't got no breaks, baby.

Part One

Part Two

Bo x Reader Angst: The Only Way It Can Be...

It was just your shitty luck, you guess. You shitty, horrible, fucked up luck. You almost couldn’t believe it. Almost. Really, you absolutely could believe it, since it was fucking happening to you, right in front of your very eyes. You should have known better. You should have known that literally nobody stops at Ambrose unless they have no other options. Unless they have nowhere else to go. Banging your head against the steering wheel, you accidentally honk the horn a handful of times, which turns into several more done on purpose as you silently take your frustrations out on the now overheated, smoking car. Angrily grabbing your bag, you exit the car, slamming the door shut hard enough that the sound echoed in the quiet forest around you. Staring at the steam seeping through the hood, you felt a hysterical giggle surface to the back of your throat, making you shake your head as you paced back and forth. Suddenly, you kick the driver’s side door as hard as you can, barely registering the pain shooting up through your leg.

“FFFUUUUCCKKKK!!!”

Several intense emotions crashed over you at once, making you feel lightheaded and sick to your stomach. You drop to the ground, burying your face in your hands as you struggle not to hyperventilate. This was a mistake. This was a fucking mistake- I fucked up I fucked up so bad oh God-! You force yourself to stand, crying out as you put weight on the leg you used to kick the car. Good- Gre- Fucking perfect I broke my goddamn foot- FUCK! You cover your face with your hand, choking out sobs in between panicked breaths. You force yourself to walk. You have to keep moving. You can’t stop. You can’t go back. You just fucking can’t…

How long did you walk for? A few hours, at least. Your foot made the walk painful and slow. The sun had already set, and it was too dark to see clearly. You had a flashlight, but you didn’t want to use it until you had to so that you wouldn’t attract unwanted attention. It was miserable. You were miserable. Does Bo even know that I’m gone yet? You bet Vincent sure did, and the fact it would be him that would have to remind Bo of your existence made you incredibly bitter and heartbroken.

You didn’t want to leave Vincent, or Lester, for that matter, but you wouldn’t go back for Bo. You just fucking wouldn’t. Over my dead body… Gritting your teeth, you forced your head down and continued on, exhaustion making your entire body heavy and barely responsive. You shut your eyes for a moment, staggering alongside the unused road, trying to think of something- anything else other than your current predicament. There’s something better out there for me. There is, I just have to go out there and find-

SCREEE-

Your eyes snap open as you jump, too shocked to fully process what the hell that noise was, or what that bright light was for that mat- Oh no wait- F-Fuck..! This can’t be happening..! This- No, this isn’t-! How?! How could he catch up so quickly..?! You stumble, nearly tripping on your own feet as you limped as fast as you physically could, emotional tears of pain streaming down your face as you hear a familiar truck door being thrown open fast enough to nearly rip it off its hinges. Behind you, you could just barely make out a familiar voice, strained with a mixture of volatile emotions calling out to you, quick footfalls rushing at your heels.

“God DAMN- FUCKIN- STOP! Y/N, PLEA- SHIT, Y/N!” You’re all but tackled, screaming and swearing and kicking and biting onto the ground, unable to breathe and unable to get away. Bo was so much bigger and stronger than you… It was too easy for him to pin you down, straddling your legs so you couldn’t kick him off. He was still shouting, but you couldn’t hear anything over your own blinding panic.

“FUCK- FUCK GET- NO GOD- S-STOP! GET OFF OF ME! PLEA- STOP IT! DON’T- DON’T! PLEASE JUST LET ME GO-!” You don’t stop struggling and you don’t stop fighting him. This is your worst nightmare. You were so close. So fucking close..! Why..? Why did this have to happen..? Why did he have to go looking for you..? Why did he have to care now? He never did before, so why now..? Eventually, your squirming subsided, giving way to sobs that wracked your entire body. You fully expected to be hit. To be put in your place, to be reminded where you belong and to who you belong to, but it didn’t come. In fact, nothing else was said after you were pinned to the ground, after you started to beg to be let go, after you started screaming from the depths of your soul… The hold on your body went slack, as did the legs that were pinning your own. Between your broken sobs, you heard something that you thought wasn’t possible. You thought you were mistaken, maybe hearing your own cries ricocheting off the surrounding woods, but when you felt something soft drip onto the back of your hair, and eventually, something wet plop onto your neck, you knew that things were more serious than either of you had anticipated.

Bo’s weight lifted off of your and he staggered a few feet away, head turned away from you as he tripped on his own feet, falling flat on his ass as he clamped his hand over his mouth, trying in vain to choke down the tidal wave of emotions about to burst through the defenses he spent the better part of a lifetime building up to protect himself from people like you. Raising to your knees, you stare in shock, your own hysterics rapidly becoming numb as you’re overwhelmed by the scene in front of you. You’ve been with Bo for a good few years now, and you have never seen that man cry before. He’s been emotional, he’s been sad, melancholic, angry- enraged-, but even with all his emotions being on a hair trigger, and he might have gotten extremely close to crying once or twice, but he’s never cried once in your presence. Vincent once told you that Bo hasn’t cried since they were small children, just as their mother fell ill. You believed him. You heard bits and pieces of how fucked up their lives had been, and all three of them had to become callous and indifferent to others in order to protect themselves, so to see Bo not only crying, but completely hysterical? It was terrifying.

You felt things that you didn’t have a name for. You… didn’t want to see him cry. You didn’t want to see him ever again, but… God, you didn’t want to ever see him like this… Yet, a part of you took great pleasure in seeing him so low, so miserable. How many times did he leave me like that? Leave me to cry myself to sleep at night, only to pretend nothing had happened in the morning? It would be a lie to say you didn’t feel a bit vindicated in your feelings. He made you fucking hate yourself for years, and to see him doubled over and sobbing his little eyes out made you oh so fucking happy. A part of you was getting angry. Why the fuck did he even bother coming here..? I should just take his keys and get this over with… Your heart stubbornly slammed into your ribs, reminding you that yes, you still love him, even if he ruined your fucking life. You hate him as much as you love him, and if this keeps up, someone might get hurt…

“G-Give- Ngghhh… G-Give me y-your ke-eys... “ You stand on trembling legs, trying to ignore how much your heart aches at the pathetic sight before you. Bo shakes his head, reaching a shaking hand out to you. You smack it away before you even registered what he was doing. “S-Stop! Bo, g-give me your g-goddamn k-keys! Y-You’re no- You’re not gonna stop m-me..!” You hated that you couldn’t sound more confident. That you kept stuttering and stammering, but to your surprise, he doesn’t respond with anger or aggression. Bo only hangs his head, hand still over his mouth as the other goes to clutch at the front of his shirt. Another wave of tears is pulled from deep inside of yourself, making you turn your head as you struggle to keep your features neutral. You don’t want him to know how upset he’s making you. You have to be strong. I can still leave. I-I can still- I- Still can lea-

Bo staggers to his feet, covering his face with the crook of his arm. A part of you goes cold, thinking that you’re about to be dragged back to Ambrose against your will- He turns his back to you, a sigh broken a part by a sob that forces its way through his body. As you furrow your brows, opening your mouth to demand for the keys once more he interrupts-

“I- We- F-Fuck… N-Need to s-say s-sumthin…” He chokes on his words. Fuck.

“N-No…- Ahem- NO. I-I’m not- You won’t-” He holds a trembling hand up.

“Fuckin- J-Just- I-I need t-to- JUST F-FUCKIN STOP FOR A- sigh… I n-need to fuckin say somethin… Please, Y/N..” You pause mid sentence. He- Bo said ‘please’? W-What the..? You rock on your heels, chewing on a fingernail. He still had his back to you, but he didn’t say or do anything else, waiting for your response. Bo’s breaths came in short wheezes, occasionally broken up by the sobs still wracking his body. You’ve already made up your mind. I’m not staying… I won’t stay any longer… Bo won’t change your mind, and well…

“W-What…?” You winced at how hostile you sounded, but didn’t dare correct yourself. Bo turns around, head still hanging low as he furiously wipes the tears from his face. Clearing his throat, he takes a deep, shaky breath, still not looking you in the eyes.

“I-F-Fuck… I fucked up…” Bo struggles to speak in between heaving sobs. You shook your head, a bitter laugh escaping your lips. Yeah? Ya think? No shit, asshole… You can see anger flash onto Bo’s features for a fraction of a second, before his face falls. Something deeper than simple self pity was eating at him. What could it be..?

“J-Jus- I fucked up- I fu- …I fucked up my-… o-our- I f-fucked up o-our f-f-famil-ly…” Your stomach dropped to your feet. Bo looked like he was going to be sick. You were going to be sick, too. Turning your body so he wouldn’t be able to see the tears running down your face, you suck in a deep breath, nodding your head to yourself.

“Y-yea- Haa… Yep… Y-You s-sure did, d-didn’t you..?” Bo shook his head, though he wasn’t disagreeing with you. His entire body shook uncontrollably, and it was only getting worse with each passing second. His eyes flicked over to you, but was unable to maintain his gaze. How could he? What’s done is done, and there’s no going back now.

“I-I-…”

“Bo, please stop.”

“…”

“…”

Your eyes finally met. It was painful. So fucking painful… You can see it in his eyes. He really does believe that this is his fault… Good. It was his fault. All his fault… Bo was mulling something over in his head, you could tell by the way he absentmindedly pulled the sleeves of his jumper down, hiding the scars wrapped around his wrists. It was always a bad habit of his, and something he did when he was feeling vulnerable. He threw his hands down before he started to shuffle to his truck.

“Get in.”

“No.”

“I said get. IN.”

“I said NO.”

Bo quickly turned on his heel, face flushed as he physically bit his tongue to prevent himself from speaking out of turn. Burying his face in his hands, he brings them up and through his sweat damp hair, pushing his brown locks out of his face.

“I-I’m fuck- I-I- …oh god… I’m n-n-not takin ya to A-Ambrose…” Furrowing your brows, you cock your head to the side, unsure if you heard him clearly.

“I- You- What-?”

“D-Don- Please just- Before I c-change my mind. Jus- Takin ya over yonder, alright..?”

You couldn’t believe what you were hearing. Bo was… He’s helping me leave..? No, it’s a trick- it has to be a trick. He’s going to take you back to Ambrose and you’ll never be able to leave again. He- Bo’s full of shit. He doesn’t want me to go. He’d never let me go…

“Bullshit.”

Bo stops walking, but doesn’t turn to face you. His shoulders twitch, but makes no other move otherwise. You take a step towards him, swallowing the bile rising to the back of your throat. Bo starts walking again, head low. Anger starts to boil inside of you.

“Give me the fucking keys, Bo. I’m not going anywhere with you.” You spat, walking towards him, picking up speed with each step forward you take. Bo doesn’t react when you nudge him forward slightly, nor when the subtle nudging rapidly grows into harsh shoving. “Hey, asshole! Are you fucking deaf?! I said ‘Give me your damn KEYS!!!’” No response. You bite your lower lip. Fucking prick..!

You shove him hard enough to knock him off balance, but he doesn’t fall. Instead, he turns to face you, face deeply flushed with anger and something else. He looks like he has a hundred different things he wants to say, but says nothing at all. Something inside of you was at its breaking point. You were angry. You were hurt. You want to leave. You didn’t want to be anywhere near Bo, anymore. You wanted to see him suffer… Hurt… You wanted to inflict pain onto him, just like he had done to you for all these years. You’ve never been so pissed off before. You need to leave. You need to fucking leave..!

“I’m fucking leaving, either in your truck, or on foot, and I will be alone either way. So, either give me your goddamn keys, or fuck off back home.” You spat inching closer to him. Bo doesn’t move immediately, rather stands still as a statue, looking you in the eye, almost as if he’s challenging your commitment to leaving. You don’t waver or back down this time. You’ve made up your mind. You deserve more than he’s given you, and nothing will change that fact. You aren’t going back to Ambrose, no matter how much it hurts. Bo can see that in your eyes. He doesn’t want you to leave, in fact, it’s taking every ounce of his willpower to not forcibly haul your ass back home. Bo fucked up. He fucked up, and it’s time he faced the consequences of his actions. No matter what he has said or done to you, he really, truly does love you, even now, as you're all but spitting in his face as you are leaving him and his brothers forever, he loves you more than anything. He’s been such a selfish asshole, not just to you but to everyone in his life. Letting you go won’t right all his wrongs, hell, it won’t even right most of them, but… It’s something that he has to do. He has to let you go, for your sake, and for his and his brothers, too. You being miserable in Ambrose won’t fix anything. It’ll make you hate not just him, but Vincent and Lester, too, and they’ll hate Bo more than they already do if he ever hurt you like that. Bo’s not a good man, he’s probably one of the worst ones out there, but maybe, just maybe, if he does this, this one, little thing, maybe he’d finally be a man that his mama could be truly proud of.

In the middle of a rant you were screaming into his face, one that he hadn’t heard a word of, he backed up a few steps, so that he was a few feet from you and out of the road. He points to the truck, throat squeezing shut as panic washed over him. “K-Keys already in ‘em…” You blink, confused. You couldn’t find your words, so Bo helped you out. “Keys in ‘em, so just get already…” He pulls his hat over his eyes, waiting for your response. When you stutter out a ‘what do you mean’ he sighs heavily. “Y/N, the keys are in the fuckin truck so just take the damn thing and get out of here, already… I- sigh- told you already: I fucked everything up, and the only way to make it right is to let ya go, so go…” There weren't any more tears left to cry. Bo’s eyes ached, as did his throbbing heart. He saw several different emotions flash over your face: anger, resentment, sadness- just about every bitter, upset feeling one could have all at once. A part of him wished you had beaten the shit out of him, at least then he’d feel justified in his conflicting feelings. But no, you stand there quietly, staring at his feet, contemplating what he had told you. Keys are in the truck. All you have to do is get in and drive off.

You take one step towards the truck, then two, then three, then pause. Turning back to Bo, things were still bubbling up inside of you. He’s letting me go, in his truck, willingly… He really did love you. It was a shame he couldn’t show it until it was too late… You found yourself walking over to him, standing toe to toe with him. What am I even doing…? You thought as you placed your hand on his shoulder. You stand on your tiptoes, wrapping your arms around his neck as you pull him down into the last hug you’d ever give him. Bo hesitates, but gently hugs you back, tightening his hold on you as you tighten your own. It was hard. So damn hard… You really didn’t want it to be like this, but, alas, it was so. You pulled back slightly, and, against your better judgement, placed a chaste kiss to his lips.You both ended up sobbing, breaking the kiss as you turned on your heel, covering your mouth with your hand as you hopped into his truck.

You cast one last look at him, barely visible in the darkness beside the road. You close the door, and turn the key in the ignition, cringing as it roars to life. Your heart was beating faster than it ever was before. Shifting it into gear, you sneak one last look at Bo. He’s already started to walk away, already behind the truck and starting on the long walk home. Alone. Vincent and Lester are going to be devastated… Another sob wracks your body as you press on the gas pedal, starting on your own long journey out of here. You aren’t okay. You won’t be okay for a while, but eventually? Eventually, you’ll come around. You’ll get back on your feet, and you’ll learn how to love not just yourself, but the world, again. It’ll be hard, but that’s life. It’s not fair, and it isn’t even just, it simply is, and you will make of it what you can. As will Bo, to the best of his ability. But he won’t bounce back like you will. He’ll withdraw even more, from himself and his brothers, especially his twin. He’ll become darker, crueler, even more volatile than ever before. Nothing will soothe the void that your absence will leave, and there will be no one that can fill it, either. There’s only one you, and you're gone forever. Bo will live with this ache for the rest of his life. It’s the least that he can do, his punishment, if you will. Being alone and miserable was the only existence that he could ever lead, anyways. It was just like his mama always said: he was a little monster, an accident, lesser than Vincent, useless, a burden, unlovable… He was unlovable, and it was no less than he deserved. He’s ruined enough things in his life… Bo will die alone, bitter and heartbroken.

It’s the only way it can be…

[emerald-chaos]

Touchdown

*gif not mine, credit goes to the owner*

I just want to take a moment to say thank you for the love on my last fic! It made my lil ole heart swell to see that peopled enjoyed it enough to leave a like or reblog.

This is just something special I had in my arsenal that I wrote for a friend a few months ago. I touched it up a bit and added a few things here and there. It all started when we were talking about how much we loved when Chris' accent got heavier after he'd been drinking, and well, I couldn't help myself lol. I hope you enjoy the fluff! xoxo

I apologize for any grammatical errors, I tried to proof-read but am also a little exhausted lol.

Pairing: Chris Evans x Reader

Word Count: 2844

Warnings: I don't think there's anyway? Mentions of being drunk/drinking alcohol, cursing, and illusions to sexy times, but that's about it.

You hadn’t noticed how furiously your knee was bouncing up and down until the person sitting next to you on the subway got up to move seats once the train squealed to a stop. You sighed and ran your hands down the front of your thighs. Normally being a little late didn’t bother you as much, but tonight you were meeting him.

You flipped your wrist over to check your watch. 8:30pm. In all honesty, it had probably been only thirty seconds later than when you checked it the last time. Another deep sigh escaped from your lips as you started to become hyper aware of the train remaining still at the current stop. What could possibly be taking so long? You knew he wouldn’t care if you were running late, but the time the two of you had together already felt so minuscule. You wanted to capitalize on every second you could.

The train began moving again and you slumped back into your seat, feeling only a small amount of relief. It was becoming painfully apparent that you needed to try and relax. You could feel the sweat building up on your body, the sting on your palms from where your fingernails were pressing in with a vengeance moments ago, and you could hear your heart thumping in your ears. Your hand dug around in your purse for a few moments before finding the small case you were looking for. Opening it, you slipped your headphones into your ears and let your head rest on the window behind you as music intertwined with your thoughts.

Once upon a time, you made fun of people who decided to go to grad school. What kind of a clown would spend thousands of MORE dollars and go BACK to school?? Not to mention the stress of the assignments, the due dates - it was not for you...or so you thought.

Now here you are, a regular booboo the fool.

NYU’s graduate program for design and merchandising wasn’t necessarily part of your 5-year plan, but when the opportunity landed in front of you it was difficult to pass up. NYU was a school you had only dreamt of attending back in high school. When you were a senior in high school you were able to tour the campus and fell in love immediately. Hours upon hours were spent researching grants, scholarships, and all sorts of ways to try to make it happen. However, the dream ended as most teenage dreams do - crushed. There was no way you or your parents could afford the loans that it would surely wrack up to attend the out of state university, and there was no way you could ask your parents take on that kind of debt just so you could go to college. UMass was the way to go - close to home and familiar. Not to mention you were able to obtain several scholarships and grants that helped bring down the cost tremendously. Little did you know, boring ole UMass would bring you one of the most important things in your life.

Applying for graduate school wasn’t an easy decision and one you couldn’t really take all the credit for. A smile crept across your face as you reminisced on the night you nervously brought up the idea to your long-term boyfriend.

“I think you should do it,”

“I know, right?” you scoffed, “it’s insane, why would I do something so stup...wait, what? You do?”

“Of course I do. This is something you love and that you’re passionate about. Do you know how many hours of my life were spent listening to you ramble about NYU?” he questioned with a grin.

“It will open up so many doors for you. We can make things work,” a chuckle escaped from those beautiful lips as he saw your dumbfounded expression. He wrapped his fingers around your waist and pulled you close, “What? Did you expect me to forbid it? Cmon, baby, what kind of guy do you take me for?”

You didn’t have a lot of wins in your life, but you did have Chris.

When you got accepted, he took off a week from work to drive you 3 and a half hours south to help get you settled and moved into your temporary new home. The two of you ate a disgusting amount of pizza, moved a ridiculous amount of heavy furniture in the middle of a summer heat wave, and enjoyed each other’s company before the long-distance thing would set in. Chris spent that week encouraging you every step of the way, talking you off the ledge when you were convinced you had made the wrong decision, and made sure to help you christen every possible surface of your new place in the most deliciously sinful way.

You bit your lip slightly at the thought and a warm feeling spread across your face. Chris was one of the most incredible people you had met in this world. Kind, caring, funny, intelligent, passionate, and god was he sexy. The connection the two of you had was scary at first, but now you just couldn’t imagine spending your life with anyone else.

The robotic voice came over the loud-speaker in the subway car and you were rudely ripped back to reality as it pulled into your stop. You hurriedly scooped up your bag and jogged off the train.

It had been a promise between the two of you when you moved that there would be equal effort when it came to visiting and keeping in contact while having good, open communication. Long distance was hard but the two of you were determined to make it work. FaceTime calls, hours upon hours of texting, and even as far as writing the occasional letter back and forth (because your boyfriend was a hopeless romantic and you loved it so much). This weekend was your turn to come home to visit, and of course your last class had to go longer than anticipated. Fuckin’ Tiffany and her stupid ass questions.

The muscles of your calves burned as you kept up your hurried pace, weaving through the crowds of people gathered on sidewalks outside of various clubs and restaurants. It was a weekend night and the Patriots were playing, which meant the city was more alive than usual. New York was it's own beast, but it was a different type of hustle and bustle. Nights like these made your heart ache for home - the thick Massachusetts accents, the rowdy voices of bar patrons arguing about the game, the hugs shared between family members as they parted after dinner, and the faint smell of nicotine and alcohol that hung in the air.

As the neon sign that hung in the pub window came in to view you felt your heart dip down into your stomach. Last weekend’s visit had to be cancelled due to some stuff coming up with Chris’ work and a surprise assignment for you, so you hadn’t seen your boyfriend in 2 weeks. With a deep breath you swung open the door and scanned the crowd for him. He told you that he would be there promptly at 7:15pm for pregame shenanigans with his friends - which actually translated to how many pitchers of beer could they suck down before kick off.

“Aw, come ON! That is such a bullshit call!”

You heard him before you saw him. Of course. A grin spread across your lips as you shook your head. The thought of leaving to avoid secondhand embarrassment crossed your mind briefly before you picked up your feet and made your way through the crowd toward the sound. A room full of people from New England and you would still recognize that voice anywhere.

Everyone else seemed to fade away as you saw the outline of the tall, dark haired man standing at the bar. The slight freckles that spattered the back of his neck, the Brady jersey that he spent WAY too much money customizing, and the signature backward ball cap were ingrained in your subconscious memory. Not to mention if you didn’t recognize his outline or his voice, you would definitely recognize that ass anywhere.

You loved how passionate he got about sports and the way his Boston accent seemed to get thicker with each beer he consumed. Growing up in the area, you wouldn't think the accent would send a tingle down your spine the way it does, but it was different - it was Chris. Not to mention the sparkle in his eye when he would watch his favorite team or the way he would get in to arguments whenever someone tried to say something negative about them. You loved your big, handsome, over-sized toddler man so damn much.

A light tap on his shoulder made him whip around, his slightly opened mouth from his interrupted conversation curved upwards into a wicked grin as he made the connection of who was finally standing in front of him.

“Hey there, handsome. I don’t see a ring on your finger. You single?” You grinned, feeling your entire body fill with warmth as Chris leaned back and grabbed his chest as he erupted in laughter.

“Nah, nah, nah, unfortunately for you I am taken” he responded as he snaked his arms around your waist, sliding his hands into your back pockets as he pulled you into his figure.

“That is too bad,” you tsk'd, running a finger down his toned bicep, “she’s one lucky girl.”

“I think I’m the lucky one,” he grinned. He leaned down to meet your lips in a kiss. You sighed into it, allowing your body to mold itself so perfectly into his. The taste of beer on his lips and the smell of his cologne was intoxicating - it was home. You immediately allowed him entrance as you felt his tongue glide along your bottom lip. Your body felt small in his strong grip and you couldn’t help but laugh a bit as he gave your ass a firm squeeze. Normally, this type of bold, public display of affection would make you cringe away but at this point you were lost in Chris that you had absolutely no shame. Each time the two of you embraced had always felt like the first. Your heart still fluttered and your knees still got weak, like you were a 16 year old being kissed for the first time.

In the middle of your reunion moment, however, something happened in the game that made the entire bar erupt in boo’s and curses. Chris lifted his lips from yours to look over his shoulder and inspect what he had missed. You laughed and shook your head as you pushed him back towards his friends and took a seat in the bar stool he had been standing behind initially. His large hands found a natural place on your shoulders. While his eyes remained glued on the TV he began applying a moderate amount of pressure to your neck and shoulders. You didn’t realize how much your body craved that touch, his touch, until you immediately melted back into him.

The bartender slid a beer in front of you with a wink and you mouthed your thanks. You felt a twinge in your heart as you looked around, taking in the atmosphere of the bar. This was a typical weekend night for the two of you whenever you were living together. Football, drinks, pub food, and friends. If it wasn’t this pub it was your living room, just a couple blocks away. You didn’t even mind that it was your first night back and you weren’t alone, spending it immediately wrapped up in your satin sheets. The atmosphere, the people - it was so warm and familiar that you really wouldn’t rather be doing anything else. Plus, being wrapped up together in the sheets was sure to follow.

“I missed you,” hummed a pair of lips as they placed a kiss on the shell of your ear. A shiver shot down your spine at the sensation of his warm breath fanning over your neck. You reached up a hand and connected it to the nape of his neck.

“I missed you too,” you replied, turning your head to plant a kiss on his stubbled cheek.

His arms changed position as he wrapped them in front of your shoulders and crossed them, resting his chin on the top of your head. Your hand absentmindedly rubbed his forearms as you nursed your beer and placed your focus onto the game for the first time tonight.

The laughter seemed to escape from your chest naturally and effortlessly the entire night, as it always had a habit of doing when Chris was around. The camaraderie between him and his buddies during a game was something you’d grown to enjoy over the years. Chris’ competitive nature and the way his jaw clenched when something wasn’t going the way he wanted was always kinda...hot. All of his friends were huge assholes, but in the best way. It was always entertaining to hear them jab at each other and do what they could to rile someone up. They were the life of every party you had ever attended and they had a way of making a boring night a lot more interesting.

Thankfully (for the integrity of the bar) the Pats won the game with a surprise touchdown in the last 30 seconds of the game. Chris, being the guy he is, bought a final round for his friends and a nearby group they had been going back and forth with all night. You couldn’t help but laugh as he drunkenly leaned across the counter and slurred his order to the bartender.

“I need a round for m’friends and for these assholes over here who thought Tom Brady was anything but a winner!” the group started yelling in protest and he simply waved them off and started sliding beers down the bar.

The group eventually moved to a bigger round top so everyone could shoot the shit and banter about the outcome of the game. You were tucked into Chris’ side, hands intertwined as he was passionately discussing the importance of Brady’s legacy with a stranger who made the mistake of stopping to talk to him. Your eyes followed the motion of your thumb as it traced small circles onto the back of his. Your other hand under your chin, holding up the weight of your head as your exhaustion started to catch up with you. Chris, although slightly drunk, picked up on your body language and raised your hand to his lips for a kiss.

“Alright, fellas,” he said as he stood up from his seat, pulling you up with him, “the lady and I are gonna call it a night. See you boys next weekend”.

“Chris, we don’t have to go,” you began to protest as he tucked his jacket around your shoulders.

“Mm, ‘course we do,” he replied with a soft smile, “you’re so tired, baby. I can see it in those beautiful eyes”.

You could feel your cheeks turn a light shade of pink as you rolled your eyes at his attempt at laying it on thick. After what felt like a proper 10 minute goodbye session, the group said their final goodbyes, hugs included, and you walked out of the pub hand in hand.

The walk home was filled with the sounds of cars passing by and conversation of what each other had missed in the week prior. Small talk typically felt like such a chore, but with Chris every conversation came naturally. Even when he had absolutely no idea what you were talking about, he would listen intently and ask all the questions as if it was the most interesting conversation in the world.

The lock on the apartment door clicked as you pushed it open and entered. You smiled as you stopped into the middle of the living room, taking in the home you missed so dearly. A soft tapping of toenails against the hardwood made your heart soar as you met the eyes of your sweet pup, Dodger. A squeal left your lips as you squatted down to give love to the sweet boy. Chris always made fun of you when you came home, saying that you always seemed to miss Dodger more than you did him and I mean, he wasn’t entirely wrong about that statement.

Once again lost in your own world, you didn’t even notice Chris leaned up against the wall watching you with a smile.

“Oh my god,” you gushed, standing up, “do you like...like me or something?”

Chris grinned as he crossed the room and caught your belt loop with his finger, pulling you into him slowly.

“Yeah,” his voice had dropped down an octave, “you could say that”.

“Mm,” your tongue swiped across your lower lip and you wrapped your arms around his neck, “care to show me how much?”

The look in his eyes made your core burn. The tension building between you two became too much to handle as you crashed your lips into his. The kisses were messy and you could feel the sense of urgency between you two. His beard scratched against the column of your throat with a delicious burn as he left wet kisses across your jaw and down the side of your neck. Chris’ hands found their way back into the ass pockets of your jeans as he started walking you back towards the direction of the bedroom.

Soon, there was a trail of clothes leading to your bedroom and you felt very sorry for your neighbors. It had been a long time, but Chris always had a way of welcoming you home.

[sinnabee]

8, 18, and 20 for the ask game :)

8. do you have any ocs, or have any ocs you’re fond of?

i do NOT have any dca oc’s yet;;;; well. i mean i don’t but like. mmm i want to

the problem is i am thinking of a transformers oc that i just kind of want to. shove in there? but there would be no reason to, it wouldn’t make sense, also it’s not MY oc it’s my girlfriend’s oc :P

what i might do instead is;;;;;;;; fiddle around with some kind of;;; crossover. nothing too wild? just you know. i love robots and i love transformers and i love the dca’s and i think i would ALSO love it if, perhaps, there was a wayward cybertronian that found their way into the pizzaplex and was very, very confused about these animatronics

like god, there’s SO many things i could do with it!!! what if the animatronics, arguably already sentient, came into contact with energon or some event happens that causes them to develop sparks - souls basically, like tiny stars in their chests - and then they’re. they’re technically cybertronian and they don’t even know

also fuck!!! sparkbonds??? god i’m just. sun and moon are already BUILT to be split-spark twins i’m screaming

there are just SO many good good things i could do with this kind of thing - maybe just an au where they ARE cybertronians??? transformers designs????

BUT ANYWAY I HAVE GOTTEN VERY OFF TOPIC

i AM very very very fond of @vurelly ‘s oc cosmo;;;;;;;;; i just fuckin love his little face, his little poofy hat, his little cape;;;; all excellent

also every time they post something about his backstory i am just like. bro??????? bro?????? it hurts me but god it’s so fucking good

cosmo is just a good little lad who has struggled so much and i, for one, would like to give him a big hug and perhaps even a little smooch if that���s okay <3 i’d also like to wrap him up in saran wrap

OH WAIT ONE MORE

@cornybug ‘s oc loomkey!!!! i don’t know much about loomkey’s Lore™ but aaaaah holy SHIT i love their art, and the way they draw loomkey;;;;;; just a little scrunkly. idk why but literally the moment i saw them i was like “this is mine now” i live look so fucking much. maybe it’s the big eyes and the stares they do so well. idk. but i just think about ‘em sometimes;;;;

18. anything you’re looking forward to?

SOMNIPHOBIA

I KNOW NOTHING ABOUT IT BUT IT HAS BLORBO ON THE COVER SO I MUST FUCKIN HAVE IT

20. free space! talk about whatever’s on your mind

rn it is almost the end of my work shift and tbh i am Exhausted ™ ™ ™

only thought in my head rn is if i get tired enough can i manage to summon moon from the ether to knock me the fuck out. also tho i have some ideas floating around i wanna draw and it’s a battle between a little nap, doodling, or just zoning out for the next hour so rip

regardless of all of that!!! thanks so much for the ask @kaotical !!!!!! i fuckin love these things they’re so FUN