#like a turd in the wind

[roosterforme]

You Can Handle It | Rooster x Reader

Summary: When your husband dominates on the pitchers mound in his recreational league game, you're a little bit turned on. But when you get him alone in the dugout, you realize that having your big, sweaty pitcher all to yourself might just be your fantasy.

Warnings: Fluff, swearing, smut, role-play, sweaty sex and blowjob

Length: 2300 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female single!mom Reader

This is a Batting Practice one-shot but can be read alone! Check out my masterlist for more! Banner by @mak-32

You were on the edge of your seat on the bleachers at the ballpark near the naval base. Bradley was pitching for the Navy Waves, and they were about to win against the team of Marines that came in undefeated. Until now. 

The sun was setting, and the stadium lights were buzzing to life. It was hot out, but Everett was on your lap anyway, and you were cheering so loudly you thought you might lose your voice. You were both wearing your matching BRADSHAW shirts and hoping for a win. "Come on, Bradley! You can do it two more times!"

Everett cupped his hands around his mouth and shouted, "Let's go, Dad!"

And when you turned to look at Molly, she was bouncing Charlie on one knee and staring intently at the game and Bob in the outfield. "Holy hell, the Marines are undefeated," she said, gasping as Bradley threw another strike. 

"Not for long!" you and Everett said in unison. Bradley just needed to get this batter out and then one more. And then the Navy Waves would be the only team in the rec league with a perfect record. 

When the catcher threw the ball back to Bradley, he held it in his glove and removed his hat. He turned to look in your direction as he wiped his forehead with his forearm. You could tell he was exhausted. He looked like he only had a few pitches left in him after nine innings, but he still smiled at all four of you. 

"I know you can do it, Coach!" you shouted, and he nodded before turning back toward home plate. 

"He's gonna do it," Molly said softly. And then you watched your husband strike out the batter. 

You and Everett were on your feet and cheering as another Marine came up to bat. This could be the last one. Bradley just needed to control his pitches. He was so proud of you now that you could tell apart his slider, fastball and curveball, and you watched him wind up and throw his signature slider. You gasped as the bat made solid contact with the ball, sending it up high in the air. 

"Come on, Bob!" Molly shouted as the ball seemed to hang out in the air deep over the outfield before falling down into Bob's glove. And then the game was over. The Navy Waves had won. 

You, Molly and Everett all screamed while you covered Charlie's ears. They would get to go on to play the championship game in two weeks, and you would get to cheer them on in your BRADSHAW and FLOYD shirts. 

Everyone in the Waves uniforms crowded Bradley on the pitcher's mound, and the other team of disgruntled players all walked back to their dugout and started packing their equipment. "Can I go down yet?" Everett asked, looking up at you with pleading eyes. 

"Yeah. Go ahead." You watched your son take off down the steps and walk through the opening in the fence. And as soon as he started running across the infield, Bradley broke free from his teammates and went to pick him up in a big hug that had your heart melting. 

Molly nudged you in the side, and you smiled at her. "Why don't you let us take Ev home for the night. It's Saturday, and he can play with Charlie tomorrow morning."

"Really?" you asked, stroking Charlie's cheek with your thumb while he sucked on his pacifier. 

"Yeah, Ev loves playing with Charlie, and it will give me a little break, too. Besides, I can tell you want to do some nasty shit with my turd-in-law," she said with a grimace.

You bit your lip and said, "Thanks. Ev will love this idea. And so do I."

"Honestly," Molly huffed, "he makes it hard for me to be mean to him sometimes." She nodded toward Bradley where he had Everett sitting on his shoulders on the pitcher's mound. Your son seemed happier with each passing day that Bradley was in your lives. 

The players were starting to disperse now, and Bob was headed your way with his bag as you passed him on the stairs. "Nice catch," you said, giving him a kiss on the cheek. 

He blushed and thanked you, and you watched him wrap Molly and their son up in a hug before you headed down onto the field. Bradley's hat was on backwards now, and while he still looked worn out from the long game, he was smiling as you got closer. 

"Nice job, Coach," you said as you pressed your hand to his sweaty jersey, and he leaned in to kiss you while Everett ran around. With a soft grunt, you felt your husband's hands wrap around your waist. The overhead lights were bright, and his body was arm, and everything felt right. 

"Did it for you. And Ev," he whispered, his mustache brushing your skin. 

"We love you. You're the best," you replied, rubbing yourself against the front of him. When your hand skimmed his white baseball pants, you felt hard plastic.

Bradley chuckled and said, "That's just my athletic cup, Kitten. But if you want me hard for you later, I'm sure that can be arranged."

You glanced over your shoulder and saw most of the rest of the players and coaches had cleared out. "Hey, Ev," you called out to your son. "Do you want to have a sleepover with Aunt Molly and Uncle Bob?"

His eyes lit up. "Can I play with Charlie and help feed him breakfast in the morning?" he asked. 

When you nodded he ran over to hug you and Bradley before racing off to Molly who then shouted down, "Have fun. But don't tell me anything about it later."

"What does that mean?" Bradley asked, wrapping his arms around your waist. He smelled like fresh sweat and his deodorant. The strands of hair that peaked out from his cap were damp, and you absolutely did not want to wait until you got him home. 

You unbuttoned the top of his jersey and pressed your nose against his chest hair. "Do you know when the stadium lights turn off for the night?" you asked before pressing a kiss to his chest. 

"I think they're on a timer," he rasped as you unzipped his pants. And then the most wonderful thing happened. The bright lights started to dim as the bulbs shut off, and you grinned up at him. He still looked a little puzzled as you ran your fingers along the elastic of his jockstrap. "You remember your ballfield fantasy that you told me about?"

His eyes lit up as the lights got dimmer. "Are you serious right now?"

"Yes."

Bradley tipped his head back and groaned. "The sexy bat girl gives me head in the dugout?"

"Only if you want it."

You screeched as Bradley picked you up and hauled you off the field like it was on fire. "Oh, I fucking want it, Kitten," he growled, setting you down next to the bench where it was dark. The last few cars were pulling out of the lot, and you could see their headlights reflecting on the concrete wall at the back of the dugout. But it was quiet and covered and Bradley smelled so good as he caged you in against the wall, pressing his hands to the cool concrete on either side of your head.

"That was a really good game," you said softly, tugging him closer by the open fly of his snug pants. 

"Yeah? You liked that?" he grunted.

"Mmhmm," you moaned. "All the bat girls think you're the best and hottest player on the team. I wish I could wear your name on the back of my shirt." 

Bradley smirked as you braced your hands on his biceps and licked a long stripe up his neck and along his jaw. You could feel his stubble and taste the salt of his drying sweat, and you had to squeeze your thighs together against your arousal. 

"I have an idea," he whispered, pressing his lips to yours briefly. "How about you take that sweet tongue a little further south. You suck my cock just right, and I'll let you wear Bradshaw on your back as much as you want, Baby."

You were tight up against the wall, but you instantly dropped to your knees for him. It was really getting dark now, but you could still clearly see the dirt stains on his pants as you pulled them down a little further. You kissed along his thigh and licked at his coarse hairs peeking out from his jockstrap. He was sweaty. So sweaty. And he tasted delicious. He smelled even better. You moaned so loudly as your fingers wrapped around the elastic and pulled down until you could remove the athletic cup that was being held in place. 

He was already semi hard, and you looked up at him as the plastic cup clattered to the dugout floor next to you. "You're massive."

"You can handle it. I've been watching you handle bats all day. You know what you're doing." Bradley's voice was deep and dark, and you whimpered as you tugged his damp jockstrap further down his thighs. 

"I can handle it." Then you pressed your lips to his tip and coated them up with his sweat and precum. "God, you taste so good." You didn't even have to pretend. You felt slightly crazed as you kitten licked him before sucking on the tip. Salty and musky and sweet and sweaty. When you popped him out of your mouth, you wrapped your hands around his hips and pulled him closer. 

"Jesus," he groaned as you licked his balls clean of that salty taste you were craving now. You sucked on his balls and licked him everywhere. "Oh, you're something else."

"Bradley," you whined between licking long, steady stripes up to his bellybutton. "You taste amazing." Then you wrapped one hand around the base of his cock before you took his length deep, gagging as he hit the back of your throat.

"Holy hell!" he moaned, bucking gently and gripping the back of your neck with one hand. You could feel his hairs tickling your nose, and you inhaled as he withdrew. "Let me fuck your pretty face?"

You just nodded and moaned, and you tried to say yes as he filled you up with his cock over and over again. But tears started stinging your eyes, because you just wanted more. You licked him clean and sucked on him until he was cursing nonstop under his breath. With shallow thrusts, you felt him start pulsing against your tongue. When you gently squeezed his balls, you felt that he was tight and getting close. 

He jerked his hips back and you gasped, missing the heavy weight of his cock on your tongue. "Come here," he whispered, voice harsh as he hauled you to your feet and pressed you back against the wall. Then he devoured your mouth, his hands a little rough at the back of your neck and your waist as he started to yank down your leggings. "Let me cum in your pussy?"

"Yes," you gasped, and he spun you so you were facing the wall, bracing yourself with both hands. You could feel the cool, night air on your most intimate parts as he practically tore your leggings pulling them down. "Bradley!" you shrieked, your voice echoing in the covered dugout as he thrust into you with one hard stroke. 

"Well, would you look at that? Already wearing my name on your back, Baby."

"Bradley!"

He sucked on your neck and let his hand snake around to your clit as he fucked you. "You're just that good, huh? Wearing my name while I fuck you in the dugout. God damn it, Kitten."

You were a whining mess as he pinched and plucked your clit as his hips met your butt over and over again. And you knew he must be close, but you were so wet. He smelled and felt heavenly, and you could still taste him on your tongue as his breathing grew ragged. 

"Please," you begged, and he rubbed you until you felt yourself squeeze around his cock. He made a mess as he came, moaning your name into the cook of your neck as your orgasm left you shaking slightly. You could feel his cum dripping down your thighs as he withdrew. It felt good. And his fingers worked gently on your clit until you backed up against him.

Bradley just gently patted your pussy as he softly said, "The dugout, Baby? With a sexy bat girl? I'll never be the same, I swear it."

He helped you shimmy your leggings back into place, and when you turned to look at him, he was a disheveled mess in the semidarkness. His cock was hanging out from his jockstrap. His athletic cup was on the ground. His hat sat crooked on his head. And he still smelled amazing. "I don't think you're the only one with a baseball fantasy, Coach," you whispered, and he smirked.

"I'll indulge you whenever you want it. You know that. Now let's hit the showers at home and get you changed into your little cheerleader outfit."

"I thought you were tired!" you said as he tucked his length into his jockstrap and bent to retrieve the cup. 

"Not anymore," he rasped, wrapping his arm around your shoulders where you were proudly wearing his last name and yours. He tossed his bag of gear over his other shoulder, and you started heading for the parking lot. "Now give me all the details about your baseball fantasy."

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

Sweat and hot. Fuck. Send help. Thanks @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls

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[2kmps]

BED-REST IS BEST

howl pendragon x sick!reader | 2.1k

synopsis; while sophie and michael are away fetching you bone broth for your illness, howl decides to pay you a visit.

story warnings; sick!reader, howl is a pompous turd, book!howl-coded, interrupted kiss, roughly proofread, posted 2021.

Sophie supposed the malady came on the winds of spring, carrying with it all manner of sickness, unpleasantness, and turbid air just the thinnest tinge of green from particles of pollen. She herself felt the effects of the great thaw, the budding tulips of richest hue, and the haze that drew over head like a personal cloud of suffering all her own.

Of course, Old Sophie had a way of dramatizing, meanwhile simultaneously catastrophizing stuff, so you knew to listen to her words loosely, with a solemn nod that you also shared similarly in those feelings. To a lesser degree than her, you were already aware your forced bed-rest could be attributed to allergies.

Or, something else you considered, it could have been the number of sputtering children who yet not knew to duck their faces in a tissue or their arms; it could have been the last embrace you shared with your sickly aunt. It could have been so many things that you had to press the pads of your fingers into your temples to subdue the stab of a headache building beneath them.

“Michael and I are going to Market Square to get supplies and bone broth. That’ll whip you into shape in no time.” Sophie anchored her fists against the bulky layers of her skirt, nearly losing them from how deeply they sunk. “Don’t you dare think about moving until we get back, hear me?”

“What about customers?” you couldn’t say you were disappointed by her firm demand, though all the same it made you restless. Even in times where illness or injury got you down, rest eluded you like fine sand slithering through crevices in your fingers. “Howl went off and blew half our income on that- that, damn, what was it? Some kind of enchanted flute? The more customers we serve, the more we can stash away.”

Sophie’s nostrils widened while her shoulders sagged forward with her breath. Her eyes lost their hardness, ebbing into something far warmer, motherly, almost. As you shifted anxiously beneath the covers, she came back around and began tucking them under your body once again, sure to secure you tighter than before. In fact, you were so caught, so much in your cocoon that you only saw the gray ball of wadded hair pinned atop her head bounce as she rounded you.

“Just stay down you worrywart,” she sighed, heels tapping the floorboards in a collected gait. At your head, she was careful to fluff the feathers in your pillow. “Between us, I’ve been putting a bit aside here and there. Just enough so he can't go buy another one of those enchanted suits. I’d like to know the dealer he’s getting them from and have a word with them myself.”

Your lips curled up at the mention and, honestly, you believed she actually would. “Where is Howl, anyway? I thought he was around.”

“Good grief, I almost wish he wasn’t. He’s been banging around in his room for hours now.” Old Sophie threw her hand towards the adjacent wall, upper lip curling as she continued, “says a lot that you haven’t heard a lick of it.”

That was enough to get you to concede to her obstinacy, letting the weight of your head- suddenly a strain on your neck- fully rest atop of the pillow she had fixed. The more she talked about you needing to stay in bed, drink bone broth and saltines, the more you felt the lead in your limbs rooting you to the mattress and the world floating around you when you closed your eyes.

It was any guess to you when it was the moment Sophie slipped out of your room with that hobbled gait of hers. You had been vaguely aware of her giving your cushion a bit more lusciousness, and then warmth of her palm covering the space of your forehead, giving a fretful tongue click. Behind your heavy eyelids, your eyes floated after her tiny footfalls, but that at once made your bed feel like a boat crashing through cresting waves.

So, you finally resigned to your fate of her and Michael’s care, finally let the stone in your bones meld you into the bed like beige boulders sinking further into the earth and undergrowth with coming centuries.

The silence that surrounded you was enthralling, probably the only true amount of peace you had had in a long time, considering your days were often brimmed with mediating Sophie and Howl’s explosiveness, meanwhile, still cooking up meager spells and manning the business with Michael.

In your weariness and delirium, a thought crossed your mind in a drawl: what about Calcifer, did he need more wood? You anticipated his voice bursting out soon, imploring attention in any number of ways. What of the front door? You expected a knock to come soon, and then another, and another, and perhaps a dozen more. That was money well needed.

What of Sophie? Your thoughts continued. Would she need you to help with scrubbing the floors? Maybe she wanted to give you a knitting lesson later, or expand on her tutelage of weaving hats.

Oh, and Howl—

God, how could you forget Howl? The man felt like a job all on its own. 

Surely he intended to go out again and woo many of the loveliest in Market Chipping, or hell, maybe he’d move the castle somewhere else for the night to do that. You expected him to hunt you down, throw open your door, barge through the threshold with his hair aflutter and eagerness in his eyes—where did you and Miss Nose stash his suits? His guitar wasn’t where he left it, where was it? Neither of you meddled with the charm over his door, right?

As it turned out, you mumbled in your sleep, or at least in your discombobulated state. Your head rustled the feather pillow, lolling to one side and then the other as sweat prickled your forehead in cold beads. Behind your eyelids, Sophie’s nimble and darkly spotted hands worked on a suit, meanwhile Michael was ran ragged around the castle to try to fulfill orders, Calcifer bellowed for attention and eggs and bacon, and Howl’s hair whipped up in the breeze as he spun round and round with another lovely.

Your entire face twitched when a large hand smoothed across the top of your head, a damp weight of something laid spread across your forward, unpleasant and clammy unlike Sophie’s warm hand. “Hey. Don’t take the newt from the shelf, it’ll get on the floor.”

Howl gave a bemused smile that took a while to dissipate. You continued to babble incoherently here and there about things that didn't matter while the peaks of his knuckles simply rocked across your temple and cheek.

“I’ll keep that in mind. I pray that Sophie has made herself useful instead of sticking her nose in on us again.” He said with lightness in voice, peering across his shoulder towards the bolted doorway to be sure. “Good. She seems to think I only make you worse in these states. I would never.”

You were sure you were hearing his voice at this point, rousing you from the cluster in your head until your eyes fixed with his, wonderful and marble-like. They were softer than usual, glittering like the sea when the sun hung highest, making the water like a trove of dazzling treasure.

“Your eyes are amazing, Howell.” You whispered hoarsely, swallowing through the desert in your throat. “I don’t notice them enough.”

His smile took on something brighter, almost as though delighted you took notice of something that menial. “I would agree with you there! You can look as long as you’d like. Tell me more about it.”

“I think about us sometimes, Howell.” It was a strange feeling right now, the words you spoke were the first to float forward in your mind. You knew you were speaking garbled silliness, still you didn’t think better of it. “I remember college together, before we came to Ingary. I remember how you used to look before you… started doing the enchantment stuff. I feel like I’ve forgotten you.”

The lines in his lips were significantly deeper as they pulled down, his hand halted against your skin. It was either the thought that you felt such a disconnect from him, or the reminiscence of who he once was that brought the sullen look of his on. No longer was there a glitter of childish joy, but rather of anxiety, of concern.

“Nonsense. You’re talking nonsense just like Sophie and Calcifer.” He moved closer to you on the bed, rolling your arm from its spot as the mattress bent. Next, the pillow cradling your head flattened, his hands cuffed into the thick fabric as he leaned across you, your eyes only able to see him. “I… I’m still here. I have not left you, I wouldn’t entertain the thought. Didn’t I tell you that wherever I’d go from here on out, you would have to be right with me?”

You only wished he’d tell you such things in every other state of being, instead of during the peak of being bedridden. “I want to believe you, but in this world I am as ordinary as the hat makers and bakers. I’m replaceable. I wonder if that will happen one day.”

Noticeably distraught from the creases deepening around the corners of his mouth, and his eyes flitting wildly around your face as though in panic. He came down onto his elbows, caging you below him as his fear neared, his hot breath inches away.

“What makes you think I could ever replace you? Has someone put that bull into your head? Was it Calcifer—the pest? Was it a panderer we met the other day?” Now that he was so close to you, his voice had lowered and it rumbled. “Or, are you so sleep deprived, so loopy that you’re finally now telling me your heart?”

“Does it matter what I confess to you now?” you asked, pushing your head deeper into the feathers and farther from him. As you turned your face away, he shifted to gently coax your chin forward with the daintiest touch of his fingertips. “I would be alone in that venture. In a matter of five, six, ten years—I’ll have all the age and lines you hate. I’m sure I’ll shrink even more.”

“You do realize we have someone in our house who already looks like that.” He said this jokingly, of course, but even in your fever, your hand shot up to pinch his arm. “H–Hey, stop! Furthermore, you’re making up stuff, who would be to say you’d be alone with your heart?”

The explanation to that was obvious, considering the whole business with Calcifer and the Witch, but you didn’t want to think about it. In fact, at any opportunity to steer your mind away from that debacle, you found it.

Once again, you tried to look away from him—both sleep was beginning to weigh on your bones more than what you imagine Howl would if he were to collapse, and away from the furor gleaming in his eyes. And once again, he pulled you back towards him.

“Sick as you are, I’d like to prove it to you.” It was an unusual thing to hear from him considering all his caution with appearance and health. You wondered if he was desperate to alleviate your distrust. “Why are you looking at me like that? Close your eyes—yeah, I would rather not risk your germs, but some things can’t be helped.”

You weren’t sure if your eyes slid shut from gravity, or from some sort of internal desire for him to do this. Either way, his hand returned adjacent to the other near your hair, tugging slightly at the strands and his breath came so close you felt it tremble against your lips.

And then, all at once, his breath snagged in his throat as the door was thrown open, bouncing off the wall with such force it vibrated. In waddled Old Sophie, arms conveniently free of anything other than an old wood broom with long, spidery bristles that she held aloft across her shoulder, eyes blazing and the most malicious you had ever seen them.

“I knew I shouldn’t have left you alone with this dog! This cretin, vile imbecile! This complete, utterly hopeless dolt!” She screeched, the layers of her dress billowed behind her as she started into the room as fast as her creaky old limbs could. “Get out, get out, get out! Away with you, you absolute user! Away! Away! Away! Begone!”

Howl yelped in surprise as the tiny old lady swung the broom with enough ferocity for you to feel the air gush and whoosh around you.

“You demented old coot! Swinging brooms and the like around, are you completely classless?!” he propelled himself upright, expertly ducking her onslaught until he was well out the door into the hall. “I won't forget this!”

As luck would have it, their bickering continued on even once they were out of the room, even fifteen minutes later when Michael weaseled through the threshold with your bone broth and bolted the door behind him.

divider by @/anlian-aishang

reposted from my deleted blog officiallytheduchess/cardeneiv

[toji-girl]

Heavy Is The Head That Wears The Crown | k. bakugo

synopsis: Being the Princess meant you were arranged to marry Prince Ito of the conjoining island for the sake of the kingdom, but the last thing you want is to marry someone you don’t love, and your other suitor isn’t someone your parents approve, but how can anyone stop true love from blooming? 

wc: 6.9k

tags: 18+ ONLY content + explicit smut: minors and empty blogs DNI + fem reader + not beta read + repost from my old blog + slow burn + no quirks au + forbidden love + talks about running away and doing it + I’m not well versed in the royal au but I did read up on it + enemies to lovers au but l kinda skip that + prince Ito is an OC I just came up with and he’s an ass and is misogynistic + fem pet names + virginity loss for both parties + explicit smut + fingering + unprotected sex + creampie + oral both for you and Katsuki + teasing + fluffy smut + cum eating + slight dirty talking + blood because of v loss + finger sucking + praising + breast/nipple play + Katsuki is soft and maybe ooc + overstim + I think that’s all! + again lmk any missing tag(s)!

Boring and stuffy is exactly how you would describe the scene unfolding in front of you, your parent’s ballroom is chock-full of pretentious people who fall in line with your mother and father.

The pair you despise because while you’re their daughter they have never looked at you like that before, it was always: what can you do to make their lives better? Never the other way around. 

Thoughts of your childhood disappeared like a bubble being popped when you heard someone clear their throat, you turned to look who it was, an insult dripping off your tongue when you came face to face with Prince Ito, the man you were set to marry to better the Kingdom and knew it was best to keep your mouth shut. 

You wanted to bite your lip, not in a sexy way either, but one that showed you were on your last nerve. He looked at you with confusion clouding his eyes and a slight smirk as to say ‘You’re stuck with me’ as his hand slipped into yours. 

“We’re supposed to be getting married, so well to remember that my dear.” 

Oh, how you wanted to regurgitate your dinner all over his shoes. Your eyes drifted around the packed room in an effort to ignore him, everyone was dressed in suffocating clothes, even you. 

It felt like hell, the temperature of what felt like flames licking the cream-colored walls, bits of gold and warm tones drowned out everything but the piano music in the corner. 

The feeling of so many bodies also added to the hellish feeling, and the damn dress you had to wear was so tight you were sure your ribs were cracking with each inhale. 

That even grated your already fried nerves feeling your soon-to-be husband pulling you closer, instantly you pulled away catching the gaze of your other courtship, the forbidden man you kept close to your heart. 

Katsuki Bakugo, the man that deep down in every crevice of your heart is your soulmate, you just haven’t told him yet, it was a delicate matter at hand truly.  

You looked at the brown-haired man and suppressed an eye roll, his eyes roamed your body greedily no doubt wondering just when he got to rip your dress off. 

He was someone your parents chose, someone who thought he was king shit of turd island, that made you smile at the mental joke. “Ready to dance?” He asked. 

Again you glanced over toward Katsuki’s direction not seeing him anymore, you hummed in disappointment sweeping the room and not seeing him still but you remembered what he looked like, you always would no matter what. 

Tonight he donned a dark gray suit, notes of red and dark green peeked out between the contrast of the three colors, it hugged him well, not like a second skin but enough to show off the muscles he worked hard for and the scars that littered his body. 

His blonde hair was a mess as always, pieces of it always stuck up like he was in a strong wind tunnel, another thing that made you break out in a grin, the man next to you cleared his throat clearing growing irritated with you ignoring him. 

“We need to show to our parents that we’re a right fit, you-” 

You turned on your heel wanting to stomp on his foot but instead, you forced a smile and nodded, knowing that if you had to open your mouth insults would just fly out instead, his hand was so sweaty it made you feel gross to even hold. 

Prince Ito made his way through the people that instantly parted letting you two through, he really wasn’t a prince to you anyway, just another whiny man-child whose family came from the other island that was situated next to your parents. The land didn’t belong to them, or anyone really in your opinion. 

But it didn’t matter, you were a good they could trade to better their lives, your life was at stake pretty much, honestly, at times you felt no better than the hard pieces of bread that the island’s trade, one has more fruits and grains than the other and the Ito island has oil and the vegetables, so a lot of trading was done. 

Even your own life was something that was traded, your family could produce an heir for his family, and yours and his parents were like yours, however, you and your wanna-be husband felt very different about that. He basked in the glow of being the only child, his pompous attitude made you ill and your eyes roll. 

“What has your attention my sugarplum?” Ito asked as he tugged you to the middle of the floor, bodies made their way to the side to let you both dance, his hand clasped yours never letting go, his other arm wrapped tightly around your waist keeping you pinned against him. 

The use of the nickname was enough to make you visibly roll your eyes this time catching him off guard. If anything, you both need to keep a clean image, not a princess who would roll her eyes and defies the man. “Sorry, and nothing does. I’m just getting a bit famished.” 

“Well, in that case, I have a stick of meat that could fill you.” His hands slid down to your ass cupping the flesh, or well what he thought it was, most of it was your damn dress that he bunched up making you very uncomfortable. 

Your lips curled in disgust, and your free hand came to stop on his chest pushing him away to get some fresh air, and not his rancid breath filling your nostrils, it wasn’t awful smelling, it was the vibe you got from him that was musty and each time he opened his mouth it poured out. 

Ito growled low in his throat, which was meant to come across as a warning of sorts but all it did was make you angrier, and just about as you were to say something you felt Katsuki step behind you, his scent instantly calming. 

“I think the princess doesn’t want to dance with you anymore, Prince Handsy.” He muttered in a low tone that made you shiver. 

It wasn’t a death threat which is something he throws out to anyone who inconveniences you, his fiery eyes never left the other man who stared back. It was a warning for now. 

Before you or Ito could say anything, Katsuki removed you from his grip and out of the ballroom letting you melt against him, his back pressed against the wall as you all but tried to merge with him. “Thank you for that, he was getting on my nerves.” 

“I could tell, sugarplum,” He teased with a smirk as he stared at you, the words on the tip of his tongue, the ones you so desperately wanted to spill like ink on paper, the both of you know that him being nothing but a royal guard for your family and you the princess it would never be approved. 

But that didn’t stop you, Katsuki has been by your side since you were both children, you met him outside of the gates the one day you were able to slip away from the guards, at seven years old it wasn’t hard to fit it when you did get free. 

Just as soon as you walked into the mouth of the town, with dusty cobbled roads and people milling about buying and trading goods,  someone ran into you, a blonde boy around your age chasing two boys, one with red hair and the other with black and green hair. 

Blondie was yelling at the two-toned boy, something about him being a loser or to that effect while swinging his toy sword around in triumph. 

His lips curled almost in disgust when you approached them ready to join in, other children weren’t invited into the kingdom so the life you led thus far has been extremely lonely. 

“We don’t play with girls.” Blondie snarled holding a wooden sword, his tattered clothes held a belt around his waist. 

“I can tell, no need to be rude about it. Scared a girl is going to kick your butt?” You spit glaring at him as you grabbed the Red’s sword from his hands, his small mouth popping open staring at you getting into a fighting stance. 

Red opened his mouth ready to say something before you drew the toy with a wide grin setting it against Blondie’s neck, his vermillion eyes swept over your whole body taking in your appearance, it was clear you belonged inside the gates and not out and Katsuki knew.

“No, I’m not, but you need to scram princess before you get hurt.” 

Both of you were caught in a stare-off, everything around you melted away as you took in his appearance, dirt streaked through his hair and on his cheeks, it was just as clear that he was a family that lived far away from the castle gates, and that made you angry. 

Not at him, but at your parents and all the adults who think this is okay, something you really can’t fight about now but now with the judging stare from Blondie it made you angrier, just as you opened your mouth to say something you were picked up and escorted back home. 

The Queen made sure her servants scolded you instead, but all they did was make sure you were washed up and ready to go in the morning for some type of benefit the King threw. 

Then a year later little Blondie came into the kingdom after losing his village and was raised as a royal guard, mostly to you due to how close you two were in age. 

Now that you and Katsuki are in your mid-twenties the tension of being enemies melted away, but not all of it. Sometimes you two still nipped at each other. 

But right now all you could focus on was being with Katsuki like this, his arms wrapped around your waist letting you sag against him. “I really don’t want to marry him, he’s no better than the cow pies in the fields.” 

“Cow pies? You mean shit. Prince Idiot is pure flaming hot-” 

You slapped your hand over his mouth hearing footsteps down the hall, fear wrapped around your spine like a frozen hand. No doubt it was the other guards, the ones who were under your parent’s thumb, unlike the man you were pressed against right now staring at you intently. 

Do you understand that Katsuki would run away with you? He’d never let you go without, even though it won’t be in the kingdom he still wanted to care for you. He could hear the hushed tones of the men, your name making you curl more into him scared they’ll find you. 

He wanted nothing more than to grab their heads and knock them together, anything that caused you stress weighed on him too, a much different person he’s become Katsuki thought as his fingers curled in your dress kissing your forehead. “Shh.” He told you before stepping out of the shadows. 

“She isn’t over in this area, I thought I saw her but it was a dead lead,” Katsuki told them, his voice never wavered or showed he was lying, you watched him drinking him in, the way he all but towered over a lot of people including you, tall and just there. He’s the best guard to have. 

One guard nodded while the others looked at him with curious looks, of course, it wasn’t a secret but to you and Katsuki that you two were madly in love, everyone could tell, however, it was still not seen by each other for some reason you were both blinded by it. 

Once they turned and left back to the ballroom to report to your parents you stepped out of the shadows to envelop Katsuki in a tight hug, his arms quickly wrapped around you not really wanting to let go just yet, you both stood there in the large hallway in a warm embrace. 

He smelt like warmth and spices, along with an earthy undertone that made you want to run away with him to the forest, the both of you could easily make a home and you would do it in a heartbeat, Katsuki means way too much to you to let go, you buried your face in him before stepping away looking at him, the charged gaze made you almost beg for a kiss. 

Instead, you slipped your hand in his and kissed his gloved-clad one. “I should get back, but I promise to see you later.” You left him with a kiss on the cheek before turning away feeling the sting of tears knowing he doesn’t see you the way you see him, he thinks of you like a sister or the annoying Princess he has to babysit. 

Katsuki stood rooted in his place growing angry at himself, sure, he was brash and crude and had not a problem telling anyone off but when it came to his feelings he choked on them because he was terrified you’d laugh at him when he confessed. That’s something he’s not sure he would be able to handle. 

He hasn’t even kissed anyone else, you’re literally his first for everything, and by kissing it’s just a peck on the forehead from him and you always leave a lipstick print on his cheek or sometimes you’ll hold his head and give him a forehead smooch. 

You always left him with something, whether it is a hug, kiss, some type of gift or even just patting his hand there was always something that left him wondering about you during the night, sometimes he’d touch himself just like you do but that was a secret you’d both die with before telling each other or anyone else. 

Thankfully, he was a few rooms down from you in case something happened and he can reach you, and it’s shocking that your parents would let him because they sense the relationship that has been blooming since childhood, but Katsuki is the only person who would protect you this fiercely. 

With a great sigh, he entered the ballroom again, his stupid outfit made him itch all over, it wasn’t his usual uniform but a suit to make him blend in a bit better with the crowd, but everyone knew who he was, it was very obvious uniform or not. 

Katsuki watched you with him, Ito’s arm around your waist keeping you flush against him, his other hand holding yours in a tight hold making sure you didn’t leave him, the possessive gesture made his blood boil, but he knew it wasn’t the right time to say anything or do something. 

He wasn’t even sure if you felt the same way he did, so all Katsuki did was lean against the wall watching the other people dance, his red eyes swept over everyone keeping his gaze still on you mostly, it was clear you were uncomfortable. 

Your eyebrows were pinched in the middle and your lips were in a thin line pressing them together, he knew you were irritated and not very happy about dancing with him this close, the asshole thought he knew you from head to toe. 

Ito attempted to make a joke he heard when he came closer, the smell of your heavy perfume only worn by you made his stomach erupt with a million butterflies it felt like, their soft wings brushing against each other, if anyone else wore it, it made him sick. 

Your eyes connected with his in a heated gaze looking at him with a soft smile, the look Ito caught on made him curl his fingers under your chin turning you to face him with a sick smile, his lips were cracked and you swore you smelt the evil from him. 

“Why do you keep looking at everyone but me? I’m the only man you need to be staring at.” 

Sickness crept up your throat as his eyes burned into yours with such intensity, there was something that made a chill rack your body, just when you opened your mouth to reply your Father interrupted. 

“We need you two to come to the front please, it’s time to announce the marriage between him and you to the Kingdom.” 

Your heart dropped all the way to your stomach, dread replaced everything you felt, and the reality of the situation is coming to a head, once that is announced what was happening you knew it would be harder to get out of, and if you left you’d be shunned from the Kingdom and your parents. 

Ito smiled and squeezed your hand with a sicker grin, the gleam in his eyes reminded you of a demon that terrorized the village well before you were born but the pictures and stories that were passed down by each generation were fresh in your mind. 

“Can you please give me a moment? I’d like to freshen up before we do anything.” You asked with a soft smile, it hurt to force it but thankfully neither Ito or your Father could tell, even when they watched you walk to Katsuki to ask him to walk you to your room. 

Once you both were out of the ballroom and out of ear shop from people you slid your hand in his. “We’re leaving right now, my dad wants to announce the marriage between us and I can’t do it, I won’t. I refuse to end up miserable like my mom.” 

Katsuki watched you with a smirk as he followed you to your room, after the door was shut you looked around taking it in once more, the room that has housed you for the past twenty-some years is now held so many memories. 

It made your heart crack a bit, and tears stung your eyes but you buried that for a moment and packed a small basket you kept under your bed away from prying eyes. “Are you sure this is what you want?” Katsuki asked taking things he could sell. 

There was no way in hell he was going to leave you alone and you knew that. “Yes, this is hell on earth and I don’t want to be a Queen, I can’t do what they do, and know what I know. When I first met you-” You stopped mid-sentence and sighed. 

He sat on the edge of your bed watching you intently, his lips pressed in a thin line like yours were earlier, you knew he was chewing on his next sentence holding the things in his bag that sat in his lap before helping you pack the nightgowns. 

All your other dresses wouldn’t fit in and the last thing you want is to wear them anymore, now it is time for you to live your life. The way you want to, and it wouldn’t matter if you tried to set new rules, they would be overruled by King Ito. 

The thought of what was to come made you shiver. “Thank you, Kats, I really do appreciate what you’re doing.” You told him finishing up your packing. 

“Don’t thank me and don’t call me that, I told you that before.” He grumbled standing up, but you knew he was joking a bit, his nickname as a kid made him think about the way he feels about you, and now is not the time. 

Quickly you both finished up and got everything ready, briefly Katsuki wondered why anyone hasn’t come to get you yet but they think he’s helping you. 

Oh, is he really helping you with everything you need. He peeked his head out of your door turning his head side to side and sweeping the empty halls, he strained to listen for footsteps. 

Silence only greeted him, giving you both one minute to sneak down to the door that led outside from the lower level, it was a secret you discovered years ago. 

Katsuki held your hand tight leading you down the flight of steps, momentarily pressing yourselves against the wall hearing voices carry down the stone hall. 

“Make sure to stay hidden.” He reminded you giving your hand a light squeeze while glancing back at you, quickly you fixed the silk around your head covering most of your face up. 

You nodded staying silent but only to take a deep breath in when you stepped outside, the sun instantly warmed you up, and the free feeling you got only amplified. 

“Go look for her!” Both of you heard a voice cry out, thankfully now under the bridge so no one could see you watching a few guards and your mom and dad, then of course, Ito was standing in front of everyone with his arms crossed over his chest looking like an angry child. 

You giggled a bit catching Katsuki’s attention who looked over at you with furrowed eyebrows, his hand coming up to muffle your laughter at the supposed man who you were set to marry, his face screwed up and red as he sputtered out more threats and demanded they find you. 

After you removed his hand away from his mouth you turned around to face the wall, looking behind your shoulder at him, the way your lips parted made his cock twitch in his pants as you smiled softly. “Please unlace this, I am dying and I can’t breathe in this stupid thing.” 

Katsuki stepped closer to you, his gloved fingers untying the silk watching you inhale deeply, the charged air around you two crackled with sensual and high tension, he could smell your sweet shampoo and you, his musk, how bad you wanted to turn, and kiss him sat in your stomach like a rock. 

“Thanks, Kats, I appreciate you and this too.” His mouth was open ready to snap at you until you turned around to stare at him, tears gathering in the corner of your eyes with a sad smile, and he thought it was because you were going to miss your family, but that was the least of your worries. 

He opened his arms letting you settle in them melting against him. “You’re my favorite pain in the ass, you know?” Katsuki said looking at you, fire dancing in his vermillion eyes. 

“I hope I’m the only pain in your ass, otherwise what would be the point?” You asked in a teasing tone batting your heavy lashes and hearing the people fade away from the bridge, most likely going back to check the castle again, the sad look you held now faded. 

An hour later you both didn’t hear anything, not even people walking over the bridge, Katsuki told you to wait there while he checked, thankfully no one was around when he helped you up the grassy cliff and quickly drag you to the edge of the forest, the sun setting cast a shadow over you both. 

“I found a small house when I was exploring and over the last few months I made sure to add some fire logs and clean it up for us,” Katsuki told you getting past the mouth of trees, it was a plan set in stone the moment you turned ten, the age you were told about marrying Ito. 

Hand in hand you walked close to him using him for warmth and comfort glancing around the  bare trees, it was beginning to get cooler and the trees were now losing their buds, the warm air becoming rigid. “This is why you’re my favorite pain in the ass.” 

Katsuki chuckled and rolled his eyes huffing a bit at the compliment, he stayed silent the entire walk never letting go of your hand as he led you to the small house, more like a cabin that has been sitting there unoccupied until now, thankfully he cleaned all the spiderwebs and stuff up. 

The sun dipped almost to the horizon by the time you both reached the front door, sweat beaded along your nape watching Katsuki toe the heavy wood open letting you in first taking in your new living situation, everything was in the big square, minus the bathroom thankfully. 

A huge bay window faced the back of the house giving you a clear view of the tall trees, you dropped the bag and began to undress yourself down to the thin slip you wore under all the layers before sitting on the creaky bed, the springs groaning under your weight. 

Katsuki watched you with heated eyes, it was not the time to pop a boner but it couldn’t be helped seeing you flop on your back, the bottom hem of your dress rolling up to your mid-thigh. “This is so much better than that castle, it was so stuffy and miserable there, the ghosts haunting us.” You murmured out loud staring up at the wooden ceiling noting the decay. 

“You really still think ghosts roamed those halls?” He asked kicking his heavy boots off before moving to the fireplace and setting it up, the fire crackling instantly warming up the small room Katsuki sat in front of it removing his gloves and hearing the bed creak as you rolled to your side. 

“Yep,” You popped the p and sat up crossing your legs, “I sure do, you’ve heard all the stories they told us and everything that’s been going on, all of the people who lived there I believe are condemned to stay there forever, why should their souls rest when they put our people through hell? I can’t be the Queen for that reason, let alone Ito’s wife.” 

You spit venom saying his name, the feeling of his creepy stare and his hands made you ill thinking about it. “I understand, and you’re-” Katsuki cut off swallowing his tongue, the confession almost spilled from his lips. 

“I’m what?” You asked getting off the bed to walk over to him crouching down next to him, your head laying on his back before wrapping your arms around him, the feeling of your touch made his heart jump to his throat. 

“Nothing, you need a bath though. You stink.” He murmured changing the topic and lucky for him it worked this time, you giggled and smacked his shoulder gently knowing standing up and grabbing your basket of clothes and washes. 

Katsuki joined you pulling his gloves back on before opening the door and holding his hand out for you, it was an unspoken agreement just in case something happens and he feels better knowing he can protect you if something happens. 

Thankfully it was only a short walk to the clear creek that ran between several trees packed together, the cool wind bit at you but it felt nice being in the cramped room, and you knew your nipples were pebbled and rubbing against your silk slip, the moonlight was perfect this evening giving him a clear view of you. 

Katsuki did everything not to look, he doesn’t want to think of himself as someone like Ito knowing he would stare without a care in the world. “Are you just going to watch?” You asked with a sly smile setting the woven basket down and watching him turn his back to you shaking his head. 

“No, I’m not a creep. Just hurry up woman.” He mumbled crossing his arms over his chest and listening to you slip into the cold water, you gasped at the sensation and splashed around the water once you got used to it. 

Katsuki never once turned to look, even though his heart was beating a bit too fast for him and the fact that his dick had a mind of its own getting hard, the tip leaky and sticky in his pants made it uncomfortable and shameful. Being a virgin at this age was embarrassing enough. 

He wanted to palm himself in the worst way possible, it was difficult not to, especially when he glanced back at the same time you came back up breaking the water’s surface, your skin bare to his eyes feasting on you, water dripped down your face like it was his favorite wet dream. 

“Are you watching your best friend bathe? You little pervert.” You teased splashing water over the muddy sides of the creek with a smirk, it warmed you more than anything knowing he wanted to stare, you could read him like an open book now and the thought of him liking you more than friends was enough to get out and dry off then get dressed. 

Katsuki ignored you and your antics knowing if he spoke it would come out hoarse, thick with desire then he felt your hand slide in his before walking back to the house, the moon high and bright giving you both plenty of light to guide you both back where he locked every window up. 

Once you were warmed up and dried off you slid in the bed with Katsuki watching him sit on the side, his ass almost hanging off while he was still fully dressed, boots including. “Are you going to sleep in your clothes? You’re wearing leather and it doesn’t look comfortable.” 

“I’m fine,” He mumbled causing you to frown, he went rigid feeling you crawl over to him kneeling behind him, your fingers dancing over his broad shoulders as you leaned in kissing his cheek and shaking your head. 

“Don’t be scared, it’s not like I haven’t seen you almost naked anyway.” You murmured in a teasing voice, your lips pressed against the shell, and while you couldn’t see the goosebumps raising over him you knew they were by the way he shivered. 

Katsuki growled softly when your fingers slid down his chest now pressing your chest against his back, his hands coming up to yours stopping them. “I-” His voice was strained as he stayed still looking down at the floor. 

It’s now or never you thought feeling warmth trickle through you. “I love you Katsuki, so much, I harbored these feelings for long enough now I think and you helped me through everything. We fought at times and got on each other’s nerves but I don’t want anyone but you.” 

He turned his head to stare at you, his own words dying on his tongue and instead of speaking them Katsuki leaned in and kissed you, his lips sought yours in a tender meeting that slowly grew needy until you were seated in his lap, your tongues tangled together now. 

It was sloppy with your arms wrapped around his neck, the bottom hem of your slip rolled up to your thighs as you grabbed his left wrist holding his hand to your swollen lips staring at him with lust-blown pupils bitting down on the leather removing his glove before moving to the other one. 

Katsuki thought his dick was going to explode right then and there feeling the warmth of your bare pussy soaking into his pants, your eyes trained on his and half-lidded as you leaned back in to kiss him again swiping your tongue between his lips before pecking them several times. 

“I’m a virgin.” You whispered against his lips. Now he was sure it would explode. Your confession set his heart on fire, he was sure this was your first kiss just like him, the both of you took the time to explore each other’s bodies, first, you removed his gloves then his leather jacket and shirt running your open palms over his chest and stomach. 

Katsuki laid on his back letting you straddle him, his own fingers tracing up and down your arms eliciting goosebumps as he pulled the straps of your dress down baring your breasts to him, the fire crackled in the background but you still heard him suck in a deep breath as he cupped the flesh. 

He palmed them at first before running his hands up and down your sides, then back to your breasts and shoulders, everywhere he touched left a trail of fire and desire, needy you leaned down kissing him again letting him hold your hips tightly grinding you against him. 

“I’ve always thought about this Kats, you’re much better than my dreams.” You whispered in his ear trailing kisses all over his face and neck that you littered with love bites, he stared at you with pink cheeks as he huffed before quickly flipping you to your back. 

He grunted in response settling himself between your spread legs. “Lift that pretty ass of yours up.” You were quick to listen lifting your hips and butt up watching him shimmy off your slip, his vermillion eyes feasted upon your naked form just as you did the same thing. 

Katsuki had no idea what to do, his first action was kissing your thighs nibbling a bit, he listened to your moans and pleas and how you fisted the sheet wanting him to kiss you where it really mattered. His tongue lolled out once he was face to face with your slick pussy. 

He inhaled your musk deeply making sure to ingrain it inside him, he wanted to devour you, the woman who put the sun and moons in the sky for him, the only person who understand the broken part of him, you always saw him as who he is and never what he pretended to be. 

Your fingers curled in his blonde locks when he licked a wide stripe up your pussy from your fluttering hole all the way up to your clit which he sucked in at first before swirling the tip of his tongue around the bud, he still wasn’t sure if this was okay but judging from your sounds it was. 

Never has anyone told him how to please a woman or anything, but you were such a good teacher, and letting him explore, he pulled away spreading you open. “Ow! Not so rough!” You mewled when he did it a bit too much. 

“Sorry, I’m a virgin too.” He admitted watching you sit up, your eyes filled with hot need, the thought of him giving you something so special caused your heart to swell in your throat, you leaned down and kissed his head before laying back again. 

He continued gaining the courage to rub at your clit, at first he rubbed your left lower labia before letting you move his fingers to the throbbing bud moaning his name over and over until he slowly slid his fingertip inside you. “Holy shit.” Katsuki groaned feeling you tight around him. 

Every piece of you filled the missing pieces of him, all the cracks in his heart you filled with your own love, one of the many things he loved about you, and oh how it grew over the years once you two were over the bickering and knew it was better to get along. 

Now his heart beat just for you, nothing else mattered really to him but to protect you, and his goal was to make sure you didn’t marry Ito and now here you are under him moaning his name fucking yourself back on fingers and humping his mouth. 

It didn’t take him long thankfully in figuring out what you liked and how to make you feel good, his tongue buried in your cunt sucking and licking away the mess you made from the first orgasm that he talked you through. “So good, keep coming for me, sweetheart.” 

Katsuki ground his own hips against the bed fucking the blanket wanting to desperately feel you around him, he just didn’t want to cause you any more pain, he pulled away smelling the heavy sex in the air along with the damp earth undertones. 

He looked down at you with the moonlight washing over him from the bare windows, the fire behind him cast a glow making it look like he was a king and he was, he’s your King. “Katsuki, please, I need you.” You begged with a hoarse voice from the moaning and whimpering. 

Quickly he pulled his fingers out sliding his hand up your stomach and between the valley of your breasts. “Part those pretty lips for me.” He demanded in a gentle tone watching your lips open, his fingers pressed in on your tongue. 

Closing your lips around him you held his wrist sucking his fingers clean never breaking his stare while grinding your pussy against his throbbing cock coating the length of him with your slick feeling the tip barely grazing your fluttering hole with a soft sigh. 

“Katsuki - please I wanna taste your dick.” The lewd words spilled from your mouth when he removed his fingers with a groan quickly sitting on his ass and spreading his legs watching you scramble to kneel between his thighs rubbing them. 

He watched you bend at the waist to kiss and lick the head tasting the salty pre-cum, your fingers wrapped around the base giving it experimental jerks of your wrist glancing up at him, his eyes screwed shut, your mouth and hand much better his own palm and thoughts. 

“You look so pretty with my dick like this, I love how you taste too. I-I love you.” Katsuki admitted in a rush of words, he stared at you afraid of your next reaction.

“I would die for you. Kill for you, do anything you asked me to if you found peace or pleasure or whatever else from it. Please, please, let me burn the world around us for you, I never want to leave this place unless it’s with you, you’re my home and heart.” You whispered your own confession. 

Katsuki pushed you on your back again covering his body with yours pressing your legs back and open seeking your mouth in a hot and deep kiss moving his hands to hold yours, fingers intertwining together. “The only peace and pleasure I get are from staring at you, being in your presence is nothing better, all the finest gold in the world has nothing against you.” 

His words swirled in your head as he slowly slid the head of his cock inside you feeling you tighten around him at first trying to push him out, you whined softly wrapping your arms around his neck. “Take me, I know you can, this pussy is mine now and my dick is all for you, so take it the way you were meant to princess.” 

“Oh my, Katsuki!” You yelped when he pushed deeper until he was halfway in he pulled out seeing a thin sheen of blood, the guilt ate at him but feeling you tug on his neck which pulled him away from his thoughts. 

“I’m ok, please don’t stop.” You murmured kissing his jaw with soft kisses as you ground your hips seeking more of him, Katsuki bared his teeth at how tight and wet you were when he bottomed out with a low growl in his throat. 

He stayed still letting you adjust to him, stars burst behind your eyes giving him the last piece of your soul. “I love you Katsuki Bakugo.” You whispered kissing him again in a silent way to tell him it was okay to move. 

Katsuki rocked his hips against yours going slow while reaching his hand down between your bodies to rub at your clit feeling you tighten around him with a loud moan. “I love how your pussy molds to me, told you we were meant to be.” He groaned in your ear picking up the pace. 

Pleasure clouded all thoughts as you ground your hips against him when his mouth latched on your nipple sucking it deep in his mouth fucking you harder now, the only thing you could feel was him, not the warmth from the fire, not the sheets under you or anything else. 

Katsuki has now totally invaded you and everything else, but it was a mutual feeling, the way he kissed every inch of skin while making love to you now, his praises melted and dripped down to the pool of hot desire in your stomach. 

“You will have my last name someday, maybe even soon. Now we can be together, forever.” His forehead rested against yours before he pulled away and out helping you to your hands and knees, the pillow was shoved aside as he slowly thrust back in feeling his orgasm bubble up. 

His hands held your hips in a tight hold bottoming out, he kept a soft pace letting you bounce back against him chasing your own high, his balls tightened when you threw your head back staring at him moaning his name and quickly he came filling you up thick and warm. 

He wasn’t done by any means, once you both came down from the highs he laid on the bed helping you straddle his lap and riding him while holding his hands and grinding your hips down before bouncing up and down and hearing the creaking of the bed fill the small room. 

“Katsuki! You feel so good inside me!” You panted feeling sweat drip down your back while using his cum as lube to sit all the way up leaving just the tip in before slowly dropping back down finding his mouth in a hot kiss fucking him wildly. 

Neither of you was sure how long it was before you both lay next to each other panting and sweating, his cock soft and aching as you rolled to your side curling against him with a soft smile and droopy eyes from exhaustion seeping in. “Let’s do that every night.” 

Katsuki nodded in agreement knowing that you both were finally happy and free together, forever.

[lily-orchard]

It's fucking wild that for years people were like "Evil Peter's dance scene was so stupid" because like... what was your first clue? Every single extra giving him this look

Spider-Man 3 went to so many lengths to say "The black suit is bad. You should hate that he keeps wearing it. You should want him to get out of it" and they do that by making it so that when Peter's wearing it, he's completely insufferable and you just absolutely hate everything about him. But they don't do it by making him "badass" they do it by making him radiate second-hand embarassment to the audience every time you have to look at him.

The fact that people hated Emo Peter meant the film succeeded at what it set out to do, yet this was often proof that the movie was bad. I think a lot of people wanted Venom to be cool, but because Venom ISN'T cool they were never going to get that.

Same thing happened with the first Venom trailers where people were clowning on "Like a turd in the wind" because "do they really think this is menacing dialogue" and then the movie came out and it was like "No, no we don't. This is a comic book movie you idiot, we made this to be funny."

Then again when Venom first came out people were still pretending like the DCEU going all Linkin Park was some kind of "upgrade."

[tiyawnyana]

"I'll be good"

Request from @hislaevv :

Ao’nung trying his hardest not to bully Lo’Ak bc his protective, sensitive, blueberry bf— Neteyam, gets very moody when any of his siblings get picked on.

“Teyam, I’ll make it up to you. I promise I’ll never do it again. I’ll be good” ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) u can take it from there! ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) very light to moderate nsfw if u can.

Please Ibeg u 😣🙏🏽 tyvm

When I tell you this was a bit of a toughy I'm not kidding but I loved this request, definitely challenging on the bullying part (I hope it turned out OK, I picture Lo'ak as an instigater when it comes to Ao'nung in the future) pls lmk if you like!

Warnings: uh anger, slight fight, lo'ak being a turd, aonung being dumb and some nsfw spice! Also aged up characters, neteyam is 20 Ao'nung is 21

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Ao'nung has learned that in order to stay on his love's good side, he must be kind and helpful with his love's younger siblings. Has he followed through with that? Mostly. Somewhat.

Look, he's been respectful and kind with Kiri. He helps with whatever she needs, and often goes diving with her. Sometimes he has trouble keeping up with her!

He also helps watch over Tuk, often playing with her in the water or teaching her new things.

It's the youngest son that's putting a (metaphorical) knife in his side, Lo'ak.

"Lo'ak no, don't do-"

Ao'nung chuckles as Lo'ak throws the netting a little too hard, toppling over off of the deck. He lands in the water, resurfacing and spitting, only to glare up at him.

"What?"

"You ass-"

"You're not messing with my baby brother, are you, ma' yawne?"

Neteyam approaches them, the two turn to look and Ao'nung smiles so wide while Lo'ak fake gags.

"He pushed me in!"

"What? No I didn't, you fell." He sighs,"I tried to warn you."

Neteyam scowls at the both of them, and they both shut up,"Please be nice."

Ao'nung glares down at Lo'ak, only to receive a light smack on his bicep.

"I mean it, Ao'nung." He's throwing a glance down at Lo'ak before walking off.

Ao'nungs shoulders sag, before he glares and throws a fish at Lo'ak as he snickers.

The next few days it seems that Lo'ak is really testing his patience.

He continuously doesn't listen to directions, specifically when Neteyam shows up to paint Ao'nung in bad lighting when he does get angry. And those nights, Neteyam gives him the silent treatment.

This happens so much throughout the next few days, Ao'nung tries to hold his composure.

And of course, he finally snaps at the worst time.

"NO, Lo'ak, you couldve gotten hurt worse."

He just won't listen to Ao'nungs instructions on the hunts they go out on. He won't stick to the pattern, he just goes off on his own and this time he got hurt, slammed into a coral formation and his back was scraped up. He had to be dragged up out of the water, the wind having been knocked out of his chest.

"I have told you time and time again, stick to the circle." He's angry, dragging Lo'ak to his mother Ronal to have him patched up.

"I tried to this time!" Lo'ak argues, wincing at the vice grip around his bicep.

"No, you didn't! It doesn't help that you still have not improved on your swimming as of late," the next words are sour on his tongue,"You are acting like the demon you were before."

He regrets it as soon as it spills from his mouth because Lo'ak stops abruptly, yanking his arm out of Ao'nungs grip, and to make it worse, Neteyam rounds the corner at the worst time.

"What did you just call him?"

Ao'nungs heart drops into his stomach and his head drops in shame and embarrassment.

"Lo'ak, what happened?" Neteyam checks his brother, a soft gasp leaving his lips and he turns a freezing glare to Ao'nung,"my brother is injured and you call him a demon?"

"Ma'Teyam, please," Ao'nung reaches to him, trying to explain.

"No, we will talk later. Let's go, Lo'ak," and he's dragging him off to their mother.

Neteyam ends up ignoring him the rest of the day, sticking with his brother and family. Ao'nung feels horrible for what he's done.

Ao'nung is sitting on the beach, hours later and trying to figure out how to apologize. He shouldn't have said that, why did he say that? Sure, Lo'ak was impulsive and sometimes reckless but he was not a demon. He was just so angry in the moment; no, it was inexcusable.

He quickly gets up, going off to find Lo'ak and apologize but stops as he sees Neteyam in their pod. He's visually upset, folding fabrics only to throw them across the pod.

Ao'nung silently steps inside before closing the opening flaps, leaving them alone.

"Ma, yawne," he speaks softly.

"Do not sweet talk me, Ao'nung."

He flinches at the tone before clearing his throat,"Please, Teyam, I'm so sorry. Is Lo'ak alright?"

Neteyam stands, turning around to face him and his brows crease.

"Thankfully yes, he's been patched up." He pauses,"I told him to train with you because I thought you could help him, he's wanted nothing more than to fit in over the years but now," he sighs, rubbing a hand down his face,"You called him a demon, just as you did all those years ago."

"I know, I honestly don't know why I did but I am so, so sorry. He got hurt because of my hunting circle and I just," he steps closer,"I don't want him to get hurt because of me. I mustve lost my temper."

Neteyam shakes his head,"You are not supposed to apologize to me, Ao'nung," he points,"You have to apologize to Lo'ak. He needs to know you do not see him as a demon."

"I will, ma' yawne."

Neteyam sighs, crossing his arms. His ears flick back and tail swishes behind him, showing his frustration,"How can I forgive you, when you've hurt my brother? I see you, more than anyone, but this hurts me so."

Ao'nung steps closer, they're nearly touching, and drops to his knees,"I will not do that again, I promise you, I'll apologize in the morning," he reaches for Neteyams hands, kisses along his knuckles,"Ma'Teyam, please, I'll make it up to you. I promise I won't do it again," he kisses his wrists before looking up and locking gazes,"I'll be good."

Neteyam gulps, feels his heartbeat speed up and all his resolve melt away. His ears flick back and tail swishes behind him more, he can't seem to pull his gaze from Ao'nungs needy eyes.

He releases a shakey breath as Ao'nung lifts himself a little, just enough to press a soft kiss to his naval, his hands coming up to gently hold behind his thighs. Neteyam lifts his hands, grasping onto Ao'nungs shoulders.

"Ma' yawne," he gasps at the light nip of teeth over his hip,"You cannot just do thi-" He's stopped, a moan releasing from his throat and he quickly covers his mouth.

Ao'nung grins, having had lifted one hand and stroked the base of Neteyams tail.

"Please, let me make it up to you," he kisses an open mouth kiss right above the band of his loincloth, before licking up his abdomen in one long stroke.

Neteyam gasps once more before grunting, bending at the waist and gripping Ao'nungs jaw, dragging him into a needy kiss.

"You better," he breaks the kiss, staring into his lust filled eyes,"apologize to Lo'ak tomorrow."

"Of course, just let me," Ao'nung groans as he's dragged into another kiss. He stands, gripping Neteyams waist and guides him to their little nest and ushers him to lay down, he finally breaks the kiss,"let me take care of you, ma'Teyam."

He crawls up Neteyam, leaving kisses and little bites along his frame, their bodies grinding against one another. Open mouthed kisses, hickeys and bites are littered amongst eachother, moans filling their pod.

The night continues, and Ao'nung makes it up and then some to his mate.

•••

The next day, Ao'nung apologizes to a smirking, cocky Lo'ak and he prays to Eywa for strength not to, as Neytiri said it once, pluck his eyes out.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

AAAAAAAAAAAAA

Ok again I had a lotta fun writing this so thank you @hislaevv !

Keep challenging me yall, send in more requests! I'm having so much fun writing about these boys (but also send others too!!)

[inthedayswhenlandswerefew]

One last thing, if aemond dares suggest they immediately try for another baby for his legacy bullishly he ain’t just leaving sith no dick he’s leaving as venom said to that bald criminal. Like a turd in the wind

[strafepanzer]

fangs | g.jaegerjaquez

chapter one: shit | chapter two (tba) | chapter three (tba)

▸ ▸ ▸ warnings: dark content, 18+! a/b/o stuff (pheromones, fangs, alpha-omega, animalistic tendencies), blood (a LOT), biting, drugs, gangs, fighting, (more to be added as chapters progress)

▸ ▸ ▸ wordcount: 3k+

▸ ▸ ▸ a/n: this has been in the works for a while but i finally have a bit of energy to put into it, so that's fun! also ive taken parts of omegaverse lore and made it my own, so if things get confusing, feel free to ask questions! thanks for reading!! ♡

“Shit,” he hisses, tongue running over the split in his lower lip. His glare intensifies as he shoots it over his shoulder, landing on the little turd shaking in his boots, wooden baseball bat held tight in two white-knuckled fists.

“I didn’t even do that! Y-you bit your lip with those freakish fricken fangs!” The kid argues, blue eyes wide with terror, that distinct childish whine caught in his throat.

“Right, so you swinging that bat at me had no impact on the state of my face at all?” He turns his body towards the boy, cracks his neck as he rolls his shoulders. “Sounds like a crock a’ shit, squirt.”

“Uncle will be mad if you hit me!” He reasons, knees knocking together.

“Oh, but you can hit me?” Grimmjow raises his brows, wiping the blood with a knuckle as he stalks towards the kid.

“You’re the gang’s Mad Dog! You’re supposed to be too good for me to hit!” He frowns, stepping back as the predator steps forward.

Grimmjow grins then, his hulking canines pressing uncomfortably into his lower lip, the one on the left shining with blood. “Maybe I wanted a reason to discipline the young master.”

“Jaegerjaquez,” Tousen appears out of nowhere, like usual. “Boss has a job for you.” Is all he says before turning to the kid. “You know how your mother feels about you using that bat for violence, young master.”

The kid’s pouting, obviously happy to have been spared, but upset that he’s being scolded and losing his babysitter-slash-impromptu-martial-arts-instructor all in one fell swoop.

“Where’s he want me?” Grimmjow straightens, rubs the sweat from his hands down the thighs of his faded blue jeans, re-pops the collar of his barely buttoned Hawaiian shirt. Tousen regards him coldly through the lenses of ridiculously priced glasses, as usual, like Grimmjow is worse than the dirt beneath his stupid black leather loafers.

“The usual place.” Tousen turns his nose up at Grimmjow, and gestures back to the kid. “You need to stop sneaking out of the house when Starrk falls asleep; let’s go.” He orders, heading towards the winding forest path that leads back to the main house.

“We were training.” The kid argues back, pouting. “Everyone always talks about how strong the Mad Dog is, and I’m gonna be stronger.”

“Strength isn’t necessarily how hard you hit, or how many bones you break, Kaiden. Remember that.” Tousen sends Grimmjow one last look before the pair disappear behind the yellowing Japanese Maples, the young master waving frantically and promising to return.

This makes Grimmjow grin, smirk elongating as he heads back into his shack, imagining how Aizen’s prissy bitch of a left hand man has to listen to the kid praise him. What makes the young master’s idolisation of him that much sweeter is the fact that the little brat hasn’t presented yet; Tousen can’t blame the kid on being affected by Grimmjow’s Ridiculously Potent Dominant Alpha Pheromones, has to accept that he just likes the way he is. Thinks he’s fucking cool.

Betas, as a rule, tend to harbour a little bit of hatred towards alphas or omegas, especially in their line of work, but Tousen takes the goddamn cake.

With a spring in his step, Grimmjow packs a duffel. His little house— if you can call it that— is a bit of a mess, so finding what he needs is a pain in the ass, but he manages. Ten year old Motorola Razr (in ice blue), wallet, and switchblade are all on his bed, still there from being dumped out early this morning when he got home from a job. His first aid kit, pheromone patches, and inhibitors are all in the stall he calls a bathroom, and— he checks the package— he’s running low on patches. The last thing on his mental list— his knuckle dusters— are in the kitchen sink, still caked in dried blood, but he throws them in the bag anyway.

He leaves his leather jacket and just opts for his keys; the summer’s been long and hot, and he loves the way the air feels on his skin as he speeds the streets of Karakura.

+

Ichimaru’s Ikeman Fantasy is a front that even the blind can see, yet it’s been untouched by the law for years. Grimmjow parks his bike in its usual spot, holds the duffle by the handle and tosses it over his shoulder, before strolling past Yammy and the other bouncers, and in through the front door.

Smells like easy omega in here.

“Afternoon, Jaegerjaquez!” Nel hollers, tits bouncing as she waves from her spot behind the bar. They never used to get along, but the years of living and working in close proximity forced them into a friendship of sorts. Now they dye each other’s hair.

“Nel,” he nods, duffle landing on the bar with a thud. “Aizen here?”

“‘Course he is,” she rolls her eyes good-naturedly. “He’s always here.”

“Like you.” He grins. “You’re part of the furniture, you know?”

“Yeah, yeah,” she sighs, nodding back towards the kitchen. “Someone’s gotta keep Nnoitra in place. I do miss you being here, though.” Her nose scrunches up. “All the new boys are boring.” There’s a bit of bite behind her bark, and usually that’s what he looks for in a woman, but she’s never affected him. He can’t get hard for other alphas; all part and parcel of being a dominant himself. Omegas or nothing.

“Maybe if I was better at lip service.” He shrugs, tossing his feline stare over his shoulder to sus out the place.

“Or if you were worse at brawling,” she leans on the bar, those too big breasts pushing up and together in a way that makes them look like they might pop out of her shirt. “They’ve started calling you The Grim around here, you know? You come and go, then someone shows up dead.”

“That’s dramatic; I don’t kill people.” Always.

“Keep your secrets, Jaegerjaquez, I don’t want them.” Nel shakes her head, perks up a bit when someone else comes in.

It’s too early to open, and Grimmjow has no idea who this girl is. She’s cute, nervous-looking. Undoubtedly omega with her candy-apple scent.

“You’re getting girls in here now?” He asks when the candy apple omega is escorted through the lounge and into the back rooms.

“Yeah, Gin’s wanting to expand with the beauties.” She whispers, leaning close. “But you know Aizen: don't fix it if it ain’t broke.”

“Fox face wants to bring girls in here?” Grimmjow balks, a little too loud. “To work?” He questions, voice dropping.

“Yeah, for the back room stuff.” Nel looks undoubtedly uncomfortable. The main draw for the club is that it’s catered to women; less violent outbursts, less brawling, less police attention.

“Huh, never would’a picked it.” Grimmjow sighs, brows raising. “Matsumoto’s surely against it.”

“Yeah, so’s Ai—“

“You’re here,” Aizen’s voice isn’t loud, but it's commanding. There’s a quiet cruelty there that keeps people on their toes, a suppressed dominance that he’s master at concealing. “Come, Grimmjow, I have a task for you.” He’s across the lounge, standing in front of his office, the door right next to the one the candy apple omega disappeared behind.

“Sure thing,” he nods, suddenly professional. He gives Nel one last look before grabbing his duffel and slinking off towards his boss— The Boss.

+

Aizen’s office is the epitome of old European money; velvet chaise, dark filigree wallpaper, gold accents, cherry stained hardwood. Grimmjow feels like a stray dog attempting domestication each time he stalks into the room, can’t bear to sit lest he destroy or dirty something. The Boss doesn’t even offer him a seat anymore, just places a lowball of whiskey in his hand and starts on the task at hand.

“There’s a small motorcycle gang that’s started to sell on our turf,” he says, opening a beige folder and tossing its contents on his desk. “Need you to rough ‘em up a bit before they get too big for their boots.”

“Kids?” Grimmjow scowls, picking up the pile of photos and tossing them back to the desk as he looks at them. They’re in their late teens to early twenties, with their black leather jackets and little white baggies. “You’re sending me to deal with kids?”

Aizen sighs and sits down in his polished leather chair, taking a sip of his own whiskey. “You’re right.” He nods, leaning over the table and picking up one of the photos Grimmjow’s tossed down. “Normally, I’d send Yammy, or even Tousen— if I wanted to deal with it diplomatically— but this kid,” he holds up the picture of a blonde, his head tossed back in laughter, canine-like fangs protruding out of his mouth. “Is a dominant like you.”

He takes the photo from Aizen and looks it over, then goes through the ones he tossed and picks up a clearer one of his face. “He’s not even wearing patches,” Grimmjow shakes his head, glaring at the glossy photos. “Just swinging his dick around like he owns the place.”

“Exactly,” Aizen stands and gathers the photos, holds his hand out for the ones Grimmjow’s still scrutinising. “I’ll send the lot of them to your phone.”

“Boss, I can’t see shit on my phone,”

“I told you to buy a new one.”

“Why fix something if it ain’t broke? Besides, I got the little fucker’s face memorised, don’t sweat it.”

“They hang around by the train station at the end of the street most nights. Rough them up a bit, feel free to knock some teeth out.” Aizen smiles then, golden eyes shining as he shows his own fangs.

To the naked eye, he looks like a beta or omega with his average-sized canines, but Grimmjow knows better. Knows he’s had them filed down; that he does so on the regular.

Dangerous fucker he is.

+

After sticking around for a couple more drinks with Nel, he pockets a knuckleduster and leaves her with the rest of his shit. "I'll come get it when I'm done with the job." He drawls, tapping his scent blockers to test their saying power— excellent, considering he replaced them after Aizen dismissed him.

"Don't kill too many, Grim." She calls a little too loud, smiles a little too broadly. It draws attention from the other patrons, the few older women sitting at and around the bar suddenly interested in him.

"Don't lose my shit." He glares back, fang grinding on the still fresh wound from this morning when he tenses his jaw.

Undeterred, she waves him off with a smile, before undoubtedly weaving tales about his murderous escapades to the nosey hags asking too many questions. He doesn’t stick around long enough to confirm or deny his own suspicions.

The damp heat of early summer clings to Grimmjow like a second skin; seeing others unaffected— still dressing in light layers and boots, some with scarves and gloves— makes him feel a little claustrophobic, even outside in the streets. He knows it’s him who’s wrong, knows his medication has side effects and his second gender has drawbacks as well as perks, but still it’s enough to plaster that scowl to his face. At least it makes people avoid him, gives him a little bubble when it’s crowded, even in rush hour.

Hands shoved deep in his pockets, that glare is set straight ahead. He’s on a mission, and it’s something he’s not too happy about. Sure, he’s used to cleaning up Aizen’s messes, used to brawling, bleeding, biting, and bitching; but dealing with pups never ends well. These kids probably think they’re kings, think that their blonde ringleader is gonna make them rich or famous, or both.

Probably both.

Flashing fangs like that around here, though… that’s gonna get you killed.

Grimmjow’s nothing if not morally grey, however, so seeing the little posse down an alley on the way to his destination brings a rush of excitement. The sooner he can get this over with, the better.

“Oi,” he calls, entering the alley. “Heard you’re selling.”

“Who’s askin’?” One steps away from the wall— not the blonde— and tilts his chin up at Grimmjow. It takes all the willpower in the world not to match that snarl with one of his own, but he just shrugs and tries to act innocent, keeps his shoulders hunched so he seems smaller than his six-four frame.

“Just some guy,” he drawls, keeping his fangs concealed. “Why, you discriminate?”

The kid snarls at him again, infuriated, “Discrimin—”

“Cool it, Tetsu,” the blonde finally steps forward, and his pheromones are no joke. It’s been a hot minute since Grimmjow’s come across a dominant who doesn’t conceal what he is, and he has to physically stop the warning growl that wants to vibrate up his throat. “This old man just needs a hit, don’tcha grandpa?” He grins, condescending lilt to his brow.

“Nah, you got me all wrong, kiddo,” Grimmjow stands tall— taller than the blonde by at least five inches— and cracks his knuckles, apathetic grin turned evil. “I just need to relay a message to you little fuckers about who’s turf you’re selling on.”

The blonde postures, baring his fangs as his pupils blow wide, “Bring it on, old man!” He yells, pheromones turning the alley sour and crippling his friends.

Grimmjow says nothing, just mirrors the young alpha, and roars.

His pals throw up, one passes out, and the blonde’s pupils revert before his fight or flight kicks in, and he launches himself at Grimmjow. He knows the fight would be over if he just removed his scent patches, but where’s the fun in that? What kind of Grim Reaper would he be if he let it end at that?

Blondie lands a hit to Grimmjow’s jaw, and he feels it crack his bone. Adrenaline and anger mask the pain, and in an instant he’s above the kid, landing blow after blow after blow to his face with his bare knuckles, colouring his face crimson in a matter of seconds.

“Old man?” Grimmjow grunts sarcastically, the adrenaline subsiding with each moment of non-resistance. “This old man better not see you on this side of the tracks with intent to sell again, or I’ll rip those useless canines straight outta your face, got it?” He finishes, holding the blonde up by the front of his bloodied leather jacket and glaring down at his swollen, weepy face. Blondie can only groan in pain before going limp in Grimmjow’s grasp.

He drops him to the cement and glances up at the rest of the gang. With both alphas done with their brawl, the pheromones in the air have thinned, and the rest of the kids are in the process of regaining their composure.

“I fucking mean it,” Grimmjow continues with his warning. “I know you think you’re fucking invinci—”

He’s frozen by a sharp stinging sensation in the side of his neck, and when he swipes at it, something small, cylindrical, and plastic hits the ground next to his knee and rolls away from him.

A syringe.

They’ve drugged him.

“Run!” Someone screams from behind him, lurching with speed and strength Grimmjow knows wouldn’t be possible from anyone other than another dominant alpha. He grabs for Blondie, tosses his limp body over his shoulder and takes off down the alley as the rest of the gang scatters.

Grimmjow stumbles as he attempts to give chase, his vision swimming and heart pounding. He stops and crouches there in the alley behind a dumpster, closing his eyes and trying his goddamn hardest to regulate himself, to pinpoint the problem. His limbs are fine, and there’s no numbness, so that’s a plus, but he’s dizzy as all hell, and—

Slap.

He opens his eyes to see one of his scent blockers— a shriveled-looking skin-toned bandaid— lying there on the cement like it’d been used more than a few times. But he knows that’s not the case, knows that was a brand new fucking blocker and that it should’ve lasted him until at least tomorrow morning even if he wanted to sleep with it on.

He reaches for the one at the other side of his neck, and that one, too, slides off, looking a little more than worse for wear.

His pheromones have sweat the patches off.

This hasn’t happened to Grimmjow since he was going through goddamn puberty and the doctors couldn’t find the right dosage of inhibitors for him. He’s early thirties now, has been on the same goddamn pills since, and has never missed a dose. If there’s one thing Grimmjow cannot fucking stand, it’s an alpha who can’t control his fucking ruts.

And now he’s one of them.

Those shifty little fuckers have thrown him into rut.

“Motherfuckers!” He roars, knuckles meeting cement out of pure frustration, the pain that’s supposed to come with maiming oneself simply not present.

Grimmjow gets up and braces himself against the wall, breathing heavily and glancing between the mouth of the alley and the direction in which those little shits ran off. It’d be absolutely insane for them to want to stick around and try jump him, especially considering Blondie wasn’t using blockers, so there’s no doubt the end of the alley isn’t a completely dead end. Heading towards the street would only end in mayhem, so he stumbles deeper into the alley, using the brick wall for support when the cramping takes over and he needs a moment to breathe.

Fuck, he’s forgotten how this felt; forgotten just how base he goes when his hormones are running rampant, forgot how primal he is. He’s hungry. For food, for sex, for a good fucking fight.

His cock aches.

Still, he fights it. He’s not completely gone yet, but he can feel it pulling at him, irritating him, can feel it tickling his brain like a loose thread; one tug of it, and he’ll be feral. He’s exhausted, fighting the urge to pull the string, finds himself panting as he clutches at the spray paint covered brick with a bloodied hand, sweat dripping into his eyes, plastering powder blue hair to his forehead.

He briefly wonders if Aizen knew that they had this little ace up their sleeve, before deciding— with a baleful chuckle he didn’t know he still had in him— that he doesn’t even wanna know.

The last thing he sees before the world goes black is his own reflection in a shiny metal baseball bat

[that-blue-vault-dweller]

You know I'm curious how you would write the companions reacting to a glitch that happened to me once in a playthrough. I was fighting a legendary ghoul and using brass knuckles when I ended up punching it in the head so hard that the head came clean off but at the same time it mutated and restored all its health. Which meant i ended up having a headless and armless (I had taken off the arms earlier in the fight) ghoul fighting me. I remember all I could think was "did I just hit this thing so hard that it can't even tell that it is supposed to be dead?"

My gosh, this is insane 😂 The glitches on this game get crazier and crazier. Also, btw, new fear unlocked because ever since you sent this in, I've been watching those legendary ferals with a bombastic side-eye 😅😅😅

Thank you so much for the request!!! 🥰

Cait - Would start frantically blowing holes into it as she blindly shoots. She would not even really worry about accuracy, just hoping that she's stopping it because this thing is seriously freaking her out at this point.

Piper - Would instantly start running as soon as she ensured that her Blue was getting out with her. Ferals and Mirelurks are her two weaknesses and a headless, armless turd in the wind ghoul is not something she's sticking around for.

Curie - Would probably scream. But as soon as it dies, she'd be examining it carefully, trying to decipher how exactly that this happened and devising some sort of scientific explanation.

MacCready - Would screech like a little girl and shoot with you until it was dead. Once it's all over, he would definitely deny it being a screech. More like a manly expression of slight uneasiness.

Deacon - Would be ready to just pop a stealth boy and bug out. He might sit this one out because this is weird even for him, so good luck.

Codsworth - Would be rather shocked, but he would stick with her regardless of the frightening sight, going after it. He is not losing the last remaining bit of his family.

Hancock - Would start laughing like a maniac. For some reason, this is hilarious to him, and while he's not sure if he's hallucinating it or not, it's still hilarious because it is such a bizarre sight.

Danse - Would quickly put on his power armor helmet to shield himself more fully as he does his best to keep from looking as scared as he feels at the sight of it. He would be embarrassed at the fact that he is afraid of a headless, armless ghoul when he has taken on things like Deathclaws before.

Preston - Would do his best to remain calm despite the terrifying sight, and he would try to maintain some distance from it. He would say it was to get better shots on the creature, but the truth is that he just would not want to be close to the thing.

Valentine - Would be surprised but would not react too badly. He would handle it rationally and go on shooting at it like he would normally, just not quite in the same spots as he would try to aim for normally.

X6-88 - Would be thankful for the fact that it could not really attack in its customary manner of bites and angry swings of its arms. He would take advantage of its removed defense system and he would make short work of the entire thing, aiming for the legs.

Dogmeat - Would not be bothered by the lack of a head and arms, and he would attack it just the same, going for the legs since those are definitely still intact.

Strong - Would be confused but would not dwell on it for too long. He would probably just go after its neck stump and smack the feral with his super sledge like it was a piñata.

[lullabyes22-blog]

How do you think Vi, Caitlyn, Sevika, Jinx and Grayson would handle a baby if one was handed to them??

Vi: Confused for a heartbeat before reflexes kick in and she's got them bouncing off one sturdy hip and is pulling weird faces to make them laugh. She's a natural with kids, and much more patient than she lets on. C'mon, tiger. Let's do a dance until you fall asleep.

Caitlyn. Awkward smile. Awkward grip. Awkwardness in general. She's an only child, and generally not in the company of small children. It's unlikely she's spent much time around babies, much less been asked to hold one. She'll be exaggeratedly gentle, while also glancing around, hoping someone comes to claim the child. Who leaves a baby unaccompanied this way?

Sevika: She doesn't like kids and has no interest in holding one. If you hand her a child, she'll get an expression on her face like you've just foisted a sack of turds into her arms. Which, in her opinion, is kids in a nutshell. She'll yell at you to take the brat back. The baby will cry. She will yell louder. Irritably, Silco will descend downstairs to see what the fuss is about. Cue this.

Jinx: R.i.p. baby. She thought it smelled good and was squishy, so when she was handed one, she dandled it like a stuffie, then took it back to her lair. Now it doesn't smell nice anymore, and it's screaming bloody murder, and the voices in her head are telling her awful things about herself, and oh merciful Janna she just wants them all to SHUT UP. She'll be ready to fling it like a grenade - unless either a bright idea or Silco interrupt her.

Grayson: She's not exactly the mothering type. But she's patient and knows how to wind down tots until they stop squalling. They're no different from rookie cops on their first day, she'll state as a wry aside. At some point, she'll continue calmly working, while the kid is slung over her arm. Eventually the little thing will fall asleep, and she'll lay it somewhere nearby. See? Asleep on the job. Just like a rookie cop.

[kimberly40]

Southernisms:

Dumb as a bag full of hammers.

Meaner than a skillet full of rattlesnakes.

I won't say it's far, but I had to grease the wagon twice before I hit the main road.

If a trip around the world cost a dollar, I couldn't get to the state line.

He looks like he was inside the outhouse when lightening struck.

She looks like she was born down wind from the outhouse.

Never kick a fresh turd on a hot day.

Never smack a man who's chewin' tobacco.

The quickest way to double your money is to fold it over and put it back in your pocket.

Scared as a sinner in a cyclone.

Scared as a cat at the dog pound.

She's so ugly she'd make a freight train take a dirt road.

He's so ugly his cooties have to close their eyes.

So ugly his mama takes him everywhere she goes so she doesn't have to kiss him goodbye.

She looks like she fell face-down in the sticker patch and cows ran over her.

He looks like the dogs have been keepin' him under the porch.

He's about as sharp as a mashed potato.

So dusty the rabbits are digging holes six feet in the air.

It'll last about as long as a fart in a whirlwind.

He's rough as a corn cob.

He's got enough money to burn a wet mule.

He's about as sharp as a bag full of wet mice.

It's as dry as the dust in a mummy's pocket.

It's about as scarce as bird crap in a cuckoo clock.

He's as tight as the pages in a book.

This race is as tight as the rusted lug nuts on a '55 Ford.

It’s hot enough to peel house paint.

Running like a squirrel in a cage.

Safe as a tick on a dog with a stiff neck.

He couldn't pour rain out of a boot with a hole in the toe and directions on the heel.

If dumb was dirt, he'd cover about half an acre.

So windy we're using a log chain instead of a wind sock.

Tighter than bark on a tree.

As welcome as an outhouse breeze.

Her hair looks like a cats been suckin' on it.

We were so poor my brother and me had to ride double on our stick horse.

As bad-off as a rubber-nosed woodpecker in a petrified forest.

As confused as a cow on astroturf.

It was so hot you could pull a baked potato right out of the ground.

It's so dry the trees are whistling for the dogs.

Busier than a cat covering crap on a marble floor.

If things get any better around here, I may have to hire someone to help me enjoy it.

Well knock me down and steal muh teeth!

Cute as a box full of puppies.

You can't get rid of 'em. He's like a booger you can't thump off.

It's about as hard as trying to steer a herd of cats.

The wheels still turning, but the hamster's dead.

He's so confused he doesn't know whether to scratch his watch or wind his ass.

She was as nervous as a long tailed cat in a room full of rocking chairs.

So crooked you can't tell from his tracks if he's coming or going.

I wouldn't trust him any farther than I can throw him.

He's got more guts than you could hang on a fence.

So dry the catfish are carrying canteens.

So dry I'm spitting cotton.

So hot the hens are laying hard-boiled eggs.

Cold as a frosted frog.

Cold as an ex-wife's heart.

Cold as a cast iron commode.

Cold as a banker's heart.

She's about as useful as buttons on a dishrag.

He's tougher than a two-dollar steak.

Happy as a puppy with two tails.

She’s got enough wrinkles to hold an eight-day rain.

That’s about as useful as a trap door on a canoe!

He’s busier than a one-legged man at a butt-kickin contest!

He’s so dumb he couldn’t piss his name in the snow.

That politician’s so crooked he could hide behind a cork screw!

That baby was so ugly the Doctor spanked the Momma!

She’s so ugly she’s got ten-foot pole marks all over her.

It’s rainin’ so hard it sounds like a cow pissing on a flat rock.

He’s so bad off, his eyes looked like two piss-holes in a snowbank.

Well butter my butt and call me a biscuit!

Her hair looks like it caught on fire and somebody put it out with a brick.

He couldn’t find his rear with his hands in his back pockets.

It’s raining so hard the animals are starting to pair up.

His pants were so tight that if he farted, he’d blow his boots off.

Raising kids is like being pecked to death by a chicken.

He’s so skinny, his pants had only one back pocket.

He was mean enough to hunt bears with a hickory switch.

He was ugly as a burnt boot.

Tougher than the back end of a shootin' gallery.

...Thank You, Dear Lord, for blessing me with being a Southerner.

•Photo taken near Spruce Pine, North Carolina

[wroteitbutneverwatchedit]

Could we work? Pt.2

»»————- 🪢 ————-««

Pairing: Billy Hargrove x F!reader

Summary: When billy rolls into town and all the girls are falling at his feet…… why won’t she?

Warning: Cussing, sexual comments, harassment, billy being well billy.

A/n: I will be posting a part three to this, Please be sure to leave me some feedback, a follow and a reblog.  But please enjoy. Please be sure to let me know if you want to be tagged in the next part! ALSO THIS IS NOT NO FREE USE YOU CANNOT PLAGIARIZE OR REPOST MY WORK ON THIRD PARTY SITES

Pt. 1 | Pt.3

Word count: 657

»»————-　⚜　————-««

School had finally let out but, that only meant that I would have to go home to help my sister prepare for the party that she had been wanting to throw. Though I didn’t want her to throw this party I couldn’t deny her the party life she wanted to live. We have had the same compromise since she started high school, she could throw a party for every major holiday along as she kept her grades up, she didn’t cause trouble, and she threw the party at the lake house. She always kept up her end of the bargain and never faltered, these parties were usually just people sucking face and getting wasted. I usually came down got a couple drinks from time to time, maybe some snacks then headed right back up to my room. Our parents didn’t have too much of a problem with it as long as we were never the drunk kids and we kept it all in good taste, other kids could make a fool out of themselves but we barely ever got truly tipsy in front of others. As I walked out to my car with Amara telling me all her theme plans, we were met with a pissed-off-looking Billy leaning against his car with Vicki, parked right next to me. He watched as I walked over to the driver's side door, he looked impressed, my car wasn’t some family car like everyone else’s. I drove the nicest red Audi, I kept it nice and shiny not a speck of dirt could be found on my car. I didn’t stay long enough for Billy to say anything I quickly pulled out of that school parking lot and peeled off.

“That guy is so weird, who comes and disturbs someone's lunch by stealing their food. He didn’t even ask and all he says is I’m not arrogant. Like that is such an arrogant asshole move.” Amara complained, I laughed as I drove with all the windows down relaxing in the wind.

“He seems interesting, he tried talking to me in science class. But I told him off in a note, seemed to rattle his nerve.” I confessed, she looked as if asking for more details.

“Calm down, he didn’t say anything rude but his type and his crowd aren’t anything new. I’d rather deal with him early on than have him constantly trying to get in my pants, so I told him that I don’t want anything to do with arrogant and cocky guys. “ I explained

“But he still came to bother you at lunch, so I don’t think your tactics are working” she remarked

“Well he didn’t bother me exactly however, he did seem quite rattled at how I handled our introduction. It seems he’s taken it to heart, if he hadn’t he wouldn’t have said anything about him being arrogant.” I concluded, I pulled into our driveway and turned off the car. Amara however didn’t want me to get out, she held onto my arm and whined.

“Let's go to the store, I want a slushy” she practically begged, I looked at her as she gave me her best puppy dog eyes and I sighed.

“Fine but just because I love you turd.” I said, I started up my car again and pulled back out of the driveway. Our neighbors didn’t really care for the amount of noise my car made but they weren’t the ones who paid for it. If I wanted to take a nice late-night ride, they sure as hell couldn’t tell me not to.  

“I think he’s into you but he seems like a gigolo so he could just want to get in your pants. But I’ve seen him with Tommy and that can’t mean anything good.” She critiqued, I let her make her assumptions because I can’t tell what he wants, but he definitely seemed like a player.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Tag list:

@destielshipper88

@wittleespur

[lovebillyhargrove]

Wake me up when July is around

Chapter 22/? Half in hate

Billy is listening to Scorpions "No-one like you" (1982) and Ratt "I'm insane" (1984)

***

Ugh, fuck this cow-turd town, fuck

Every! fucking! thing!

FUCK !!

..

So yeah .. the news. Billy gets rejected in all three California universities he applied to - Los Angeles, Berkley and

San Diego.

The fucking irony. It's like the state he was born in, doesn't want him anymore, the city he's lived all his life in, takes revenge in him for leaving.

Like it was Billy's fault.

Goddammit.

God-fucking-dammit!

There goes the dream. Grease monkey, that's all you're gonna be, Billy.

And, that's fine. He likes grease. It just sucks to hear a no. Three of them, in a row.

Of course, the places he was striving for are all super-top-notch-level. Like he said, the high GPA, impressive SAT results that he got in his junior year - Billy had it all, but he lacked fucking recommendations and the stuff he couldn't really scrape here, in a new town, new school, as early as autumn.

Thanks dad, for making me change schools in my fucking senior year, really like .. I appreciate the hell out of it.

Fuck this shit. Billy is sitting in the camaro, waiting for Maxine, smoking and listening to nothing. He got the news from Berkley on Monday morning, right after the party, and from San Diego - in today's mail, bright and early, and all day he's been suppressing fucking tears. Feels unfair, somehow, his state turning him down like that.

Jesus, what kind of kindergarten snot is that, Billy?

Everything is the way it is, in life.

To each its own.

For him it'll be a job in San Diego when he gets there. Maybe he'll reapply next year, maybe he'll aim not at such prestigious places, he'll need to think of a plan, get his full focus on it. Everything now has kinda lost its clarity

Since he's been uprooted and torn away from his ground.

He needs to get back to himself. Needs to stand steady on his feet again.

Billy sees Harrington walking towards the beamer, his girl's already waiting for him near the car. He's putting his peachy ass on its wing, takes out a Parliament, lights it.

He looks so hot taking a drag, hollowing his cheeks, cupping his hands to shield the flame of the lighter from the wind. Steve's wearing a dark gray light jacket, and the colour becomes him.

The nose looks a bit bashed in huh, well .. doesn't make him less pretty. He's still

The prettiest.

Fuck, stop it, dumbass, avert

Avert the stupid unruly eyes. Don't let them run wild.

But I haven't taken even a peek at him all day .. three days.

Is Harrington going to bring Tammy to her house, and they are going to kiss in the beamer, and then say bye for the rest of the day? Or are they driving some place else? To the king's castle?

The rich boy does fuck all. No need to have a job, studying isn't his forte .. the hell he does with all the time on his hands?

Fucks around, that's what he does.

For Steve, life must be so easy. To each their own. For Harrington it means daddy's money, probably a cushy job in his big important business. Very possibly, a trust fund. His life is taken care of. Billy's never liked rich kids. Fucking entitled, believing they are better than everyone else. Too clean, too uninteresting.

University of Chicago accepted him and - guess what, the fucking Purdue - Billy doesn't even like the sound of the name - waitlisted him. Yeah, fuck you and your waitlist which nobody cares for. He's not gonna go to either of these places. Billy needs to get to the coast, away from here, this Mid-fuck-western state.

He craves warmth, he craves air, it's an absolute SOS situation for salty water to wash his wounds.

Max waves good bye to her friends, but comes to the car with the bunker girl.

"Billy, Jane is coming home with me. She's staying for the rest of the day. We're having a sleepover, actually. You're bringing us both to school tomorrow morning."

Bossy much?

Like fuck I care.

"Hi, Billy."

That Jane girl always looks at him like he owes her a thousand bucks. She's an odd bird.

Don't talk to the driver. Get in and let's go already.

Billy grips the steering wheel, and the knuckles on the hand he'd smashed a car window at the junkyard with, hurt.

The girls jump in the backseat and start chirping excitedly.

Billy gets going, but doesn't even turn the music on to wipe out the cheerful noise. He's lost in thoughts.

He's still thinking about Harrington. He's trying not to, but he can't control it. You can't throw someone out of your head completely in a matter of days. The only thing that he succeeds in is

At school, Billy doesn't let himself look at Steve. Okay, today in the parking lot he slipped a little, but in classrooms, in the hallways he doesn't. This week there aren't any basketball practices, which is very convenient, coach Nelson is on a sick leave or something.

Billy looks at everything and everyone BUT Harrington.

The

I'm not a cocksucker

Still burns.

Sometimes he can feel something hot scraping all over his back

And he knows

That's the asshole's stare.

Fuck him.

Billy needs to get the fuck away from here, this place is like quicksand

Sucking him in.

It's trying to tie him down, make him stay. Why did he even send the fucking applications to the nearby universities here if he was never planning on going there? Hargrove doesn't know. He doesn't always make the best and most rational decisions.

Quicksand. Step back, get away, a-fucking-sap.

School still has to be graduated from.

***

Alright, one thing here has become bearable. April in Indiana truly marks the irreversible arrival of spring. The bitter cold that lasted through the winter and still showed its frosty face in March is now mostly a cursed memory.

Hargrove's outside. It's close to midnight, and he's slowly walking down Cherry Lane, a cigarette between the fingers. April is starting to feel really fucking nice. Cool still, but nice. Soon everything's gonna bloom and hustle. The sun shines every day now. Rains pour. The sky, with or without clouds, is marvelous and gives hope.

Billy's taking advantage of warm nights. He sometimes leaves the house when everyone is already sleeping - either walks out of the door when he is sure he won't disturb anyone, or climbs out of his window - ground floor, easy as pie.

It's dark, windless and serene, and Hargrove just needs to clear his mind. Street lights are flickering slightly, and it's misty, the night air is damp and thick, especially after the recent evening rain, with a promise of fragrance of blossoming flowers soon.

Billy's watching his boots step heavy on the wet gray asphalt. Right, left, right, left. He's not gonna let Harrington do it to him. He's not gonna fall for this rich fucking asshole.

Like,

F

A

L

L

for real.

They've fooled around, Billy got knocked down a notch from his wuthering high, enough. Did he seriously think that Steve's on the same wavelength as him?

It's ridiculous.

Hargrove's following the movements of his knees. Right, left, right, left. He likes the way his solid thighs sway. Billy needs to get his shit together. Feed the anger. Stay in the right lane. Double bag his dick, it's always been a rule with girls. In the case in question, extra precautions seem necessary. Triple bag his heart. He just needs to hold out for three fucking months, and then he's on the road, driving west. Southwest.

Billy's nurturing his fury, replaying in his mind over and over again

Steve's voice, Steve's raised eyebrows. The word, the phrase, the meaning of it

I'm better than you

The fury grows, bursts in acrid flames,

Lets him think for a moment that he can be in charge.

Billy tightens his fist, and the knuckles hurt again. Good.

He turns around and slowly walks back to his car. He didn't park it in the driveway, he usually leaves it at a distance from their house now.

Hargrove gets in, turns the music on, makes the volume down. Lights up a cigarette and savours a long looong drag. Watches the smoke drift around and up in the dark sky, listening to Scorpions' "Rock you like a hurricane." Shit, isn't that the song that was on when he first set his foot in the Hawkins High parking lot?

It is.

Billy remembers the moment, how jittery he felt, how miserable, the whole move still making FUCK sense to him. That was the first time he ever laid eyes on King Steve.

It was in September. Now the school year is almost finished.

Girl, it’s been a long time that we’ve been apart

Much too long for a man who needs love

What in fucking hell ..?

Billy wants to turn the song off but then changes his mind.

There’s no one like you

I can’t wait for the nights with you

I imagine the things we’ll do

I just want to be loved by you

No one like you

Other thoughts come to mind. Billy puts his head on the headrest, shuts the eyes and remembers their kisses, all of them. Remembers how they held each other's bodies, the absolute, utter frenzy. Why has he never felt anything like that before, what is the secret, what is the fucking sorcery.

The fury, well-fed and groomed, is still present but it steps away a little, letting sadness and .. something like yearning? .. seep through the tiniest cracks.

Girl, there are really no words strong enough

To describe all my longing for love

I can't wait for the nights with you

I imagine the things we'll do

There's no one like you

No-one like you

Remembers the first and only blowjob, and how strange and amazing it felt. He would do it again. He wants to. Kiss and touch Steve again. All of him. Starting from the pinkie toe and going up to the guy's mane of hair.

It's not gonna happen.

When Billy's finally done with his midnight brooding, and gets home, slips under the coolness of bedsheets and drifts off to sleep, he sees a very vivid dream.

He's amidst the ocean, clear warm dark waters all around, light waves rocking him softly,

Lovingly.

It's dark because it's night time.

He sees a beautiful light purple jellyfish, swimming in the near

It looks otherworldly, gently propelling its umbrella-shaped body through the water. The jellyfish glows in the dark, and, naturally, Billy wants to touch it. He is aware that these creatures can be dangerous, the tentacles are covered in millions of stinging cells, holding venom that can be very painful, even deadly.

Billy is extending his left hand, and the jellyfish touches him gently. It is the prettiest one in the whole wide ocean.

Hargrove keeps playing with it and notices that the tentacles start growing longer, the body is stretching itself, and the colour changes from purple to transparent and then light blue.

It is still glowing, and it's by far the most beautiful thing Billy has ever encountered.

Suddenly the tentacles are grasping his hand tighter, and they claw their way up Billy's arm,

Despite the intensity - or because of it - it's still such a pleasant sensation, he lets the jellyfish twine itself all over his limb,

When immediate piercing pain shoots through his body and the skin on his arm starts burning

The pain stings viciously, Billy is trying to set himself free from the tentacles

In mad realisation that he might actually die right now. It's like something is drilling holes through his veins, going for

The heart.

The jellyfish loosens its hold, caressing the boy, soothing the burn.

Billy understands that he must swim ashore, get some kind of medical help

However, he doesn't distance himself from the stunning ocean creature, against all reason, against the sense of self-preservation.

He doesn't swim away but stays close, gazing, admiring the beauty

Mesmerized.

Blood bringing venom to his core.

***

On ao3

[nobathroombreak]

Mikasa actually shits like a well-fed horse, and, because she’s so bathroom shy, she litters the training grounds with her huge piles, sneaking off to drop earth-shaking poops in the private refuge of a bush. Just her firm bubble butt pumping out a mare’s mega-turd as Mikasa huffs, not with effort— for the glistening lengths of soft scat are spilling out of her hole effortlessly— but with pure embarrassment. I wonder if anyone stumbles across Mikasa’s massive mud pies that she occasionally produces when she can’t hold it anymore and needs to pop a squat. Leaving her mushy pile of half-formed loaves draped over the roots of a tree, or her long winding logs curled up in the tall grass, her dry rabbit pellets that she squeezed out one by one resting atop each other like a miniature ant hill… but, hey, Mikasa really had to go poop and sometimes her fellow cadets suffer from it. Like imagine accidentally stepping in Mikasa’s mammoth bowel movement and thinking it’s some beast of an animal, complaining loudly about it later while Mikasa turns a conspicuous bright red… scrubbing your boots clean of the soft peanut-butter colored scat coating wedged between the grooves, not knowing that Mikasa’s bum had dirtied them up. Sometimes, Mikasa has to grunt out some thick, dry turds too, laying enough lumpy bricks to build her own outer wall. On those days, she’s always conscientious of her surroundings, making sure no one has been lured over by the embarrassing sounds coming from her throat as a lumpy one starts to poke out. I’ll leave it up to your imagination as to whether or not she’s ever been caught!

[ewanmitchellcrumbs]

HELLO AGAIN: IT IS I, THE BUTTHOLE ENTHUSIAST.

Now, you've told us all about Aemond's pristine, silver-sheened balloon knot (that NEVER shits obviously, what a peasant thing to do). But what I need to know - with the yearning of a thousand suns, mind you - is centred around our favourite old coot with the ass that won't quit.

What is Daemon Targaryen's asshole like?

Firstly, does he shit? Does he smush that daddy dumper onto the privy hole, spread those enormous cheeks and sigh with sweet release as he pushes that almighty turd outta his cocoa canyon? Secondly, what does this perfect man's equally perfect chocolate starfish look like? Is it perfectly wrinkly to match his saggy GILF ballsack? Does it have those gorgeous silver curls encrusted of course with stray crud from his lordly logs? Is he partial to having that asspussy eaten like it's the last meal his plebian partner will ever eat? Tell me everything.

Sincerely, the Representative from DAWC

(Daemon's Ass Worshipping Cult)

I've had to make my way through this ask in stages. Every time I read a sentence I have to walk away to clutch my chest and stomach while my body is wracked by uncontrollable laughter. My throat hurts, my lungs hurt and my cheeks are sore. This in particular fucking winded me for a good five minutes:

Does he smush that daddy dumper onto the privy hole, spread those enormous cheeks and sigh with sweet release as he pushes that almighty turd outta his cocoa canyon?

Anyway, onwards to Daemon's asshole...

We'll address the most important issue first and that is that yes, Daemon does shit. Daemon does not possess that pristine facade that Aemond does, he is a man of depravity. Daemon not only shits, but he enjoys the act itself. If he's indulged in a particularly large meal the night before, he'll take a book or a scroll in with him, smush that juicy dumper around the privy hole and just make a fucking day of it. He especially enjoys making other people uncomfortable with his toilet exploits. Let's say, for instance, Ser Criston Cole is waiting to use the privy while Daemon is in there. This no fucks to give dom daddy will come out after he's had brown down, clap Criston on the back and say "I'd give it 5 minutes if I were you, Ser Crispin" while looking smug as fuck and dramatically wafting whatever reading material he's chosen to take in with him. What a hero.

Daemon's balloon knot is an abundance of wrinkles, that match his saggy old coot nutsack. This hole has seen some shit, quite literally. It has spent a life time pushing out the remnants of rich foods, had a myriad of whore tongues swipe across it and the occasional finger inserted, so it's well used. He's not loose by any means though - his farts still sound tight enough to know his anus is far from being a windsock. It's probably that weird brownish colour that old men's dick and balls seem to turn as they get older.

Daemon's ringpiece is has a few stray brown pubes around it (his carpet doesn't match the drapes), but they are dangleberry free - he ensures that the servants responsible for cleaning him up once he's finished dumping up the privy do a thorough job.

He is partial to anilingus. He'll be more vocal about it if his partner finds it squicky and uncomfortable, as he gets off on the power dynamic and taboo of having such an area serviced. On the other hand, if his partner is super into it and chowing down on his hole like it's a bowl of pudding then he'll let slip the occasional curse word while he pounds his cock like it owes him money.

I hope you have found my answer to be informative.

Give yourself a pat on the back if you've made it this far.

[twigg96]

Hi! :3 so i saw that you like dad dethlok headcannons, so just outta curiosity: dethlok with a pregnant s/o? (Like how they are during the months and labor and stuff)

👀👀👀👀👀 I do love me some daddy Dethklok Anon you’re so right. I hope you like these HCs!!!

Edit: Soooo I got a little long winded with these so I’ll add a cut (HCs under the cut XP)

From the very first moment Nathan found out his S/O was pregnant when they showed him the pee test was positive Nathan was ecstatic. All he wanted was to be as good or maybe marginally as good as a father as his dad was to him. But as time rolled on, and things became real… Nathan found himself so anxious he couldn’t sleep. He had been so happy when he could hear a heart beat. But then at that appointment the doctor started spouting off all these scary medical terms and phrases. Nathan could hardly keep up. His partner had informed him it was all routine and they were healthy but he still didn’t feel comfortable that he didn’t understand what was going on. So he had Charles get him books on “Child Rearing” “Pregnancy and the Human Body” and “What Labor may look like for You” and he read them at night to his S/O as motivation to get past the parts that make him so uncomfortable it physically made him want to blow bloody chunks and also get a first hand account of if any of the mumbo jumbo made any sense. As the final months came into place and Nathan felt more comfortable and prepared… his S/O went into a slightly early labor. It had been something he had prepared for. He had a go bag ready and waiting. But… not something he wanted. Rushing his partner to the hospital he waited by their side through the whole experience. Patting sweat and holding back their leg as they pushed. Though the nurses did report he looked as if he was going to pass out at several points and asked him to take a seat Nathan either glared at them or told them “It wasn’t brutal to sit when he met his baby for the first time.”

Neither Pickles or his Partner were prepared or expecting to get pregnant when they did. Neither of them were trying. Neither of them did any research. As a matter of fact His S/O didn’t even find out they were pregnant until they had gotten severe flu like symptoms in month 5 along side a bloated tummy. Everyone had speculated at first it was their appendix ready to burst or maybe a gallbladder. That is until they did the ultrasound before the surgery. When Pickles found out he passed out cold. How couldn’t he have known. How couldn’t they have known. He knew they were in trouble. They had been doing drugs and drinking every day with no regard whatsoever. Normally he wouldn’t care. Normally he’d walk out. But this wasn’t a normal situation. Pickles loved his S/O and they wanted to try and keep it and start a family with him. Something he knew nothing of besides what Dethklok and they gave him. But with his partner by his side, he decided to give it a shot. The two got married in a big ceremony while his partner was 7 months along. He remembered laughing at the irony at swearing he’d never do such a thing at Seth’s wedding but there he was with Seth, Amber and the turd monster at his side watching his partner thank their guests as they brought both baby shower gifts and wedding gifts to the table. To nobody’s surprise but his own, Pickles’s partner went into labor early. Pickles clutched his inhaler like a lifeline pacing outside the operating room as his partner was rushed to an emergency c-section due to the circumstances. He heard the wails of his infant through the heavy metal doors and wept. Knowing his baby was ok he wrote a song for Nathan to try next time they practiced and named it after his daughter.

Hormones ran high throughout William’s partner’s pregnancy. And it wasn’t just his S/O’s either. Murderface suffered from couvade syndrome or sympathetic pregnancy. He went through it all. The nausea, morning sickness, weird food cravings, heartburn, toothaches, backaches, and cramps (which he believed and still does to this day to be labor pains) cramps to name a few. And that doesn’t include the anxiety, and restless he felt constantly. To be honest, normally his partner wouldn’t have minded much. They were considered to have the patience of a saint by the other members of the band. But with hormones raging through their body the symptoms of William’s Symptomatic Pregnancy spurred many arguments. There were times his partner felt he was making fun of them when his symptoms lined up with theirs. But mostly he made them laugh harder than they ever did in their entire life. One time when they went to the Burger Time drive through for a date, Murderface’s S/O stole some of his nuggets with the excuse of “I’m pregnant and growing a human in me so I’m allowed.” William sat and stared a moment at his very pregnant S/O before swiping a few fries. “Yeah… well I feel like I am too Scho fucking give me schome fries.” William’s s/o laughed so hard they peed. His partner didn’t go into labor until 1 week after due date much to William’s dismay. But he stood firm during the delivery, that is until the doctors announced that he was having surprise twins.

Toki was terrified to have children when he found out his S/O was pregnant. He still had horrific trauma he was dealing with from his own father on top of all the not so good memories he had with kids that came with being in the biggest band in the world. He wanted to be a dad for his children. Not an authority figure or punisher as his father was to him. So he debated on leaving Dethklok for a while. Juggling whether or not to stay in the band and earn money for his family but risk not seeing them while touring constantly. Or quitting and starting a real family. His partner never once pressured him to ever make a decision but respected that it was his alone to make. Toki loved his partner through out the pregnancy, asking Nathan and Charles to read him pregnancy books with long terminology in them so he was sure to know how to pronounce them at doctor appointments he started to teach himself how to read, write, and speak English more fluently so that one day his child could have a father to be proud of. Toki counted down the day until his baby arrived, writing little songs for his little one he played his guitar and sang to his baby every night before bed. The night his partner went into labor was a rough one. There had been a blizzard and it was impossible for he and his partner to make it through the snow to a hospital in time. Panicking initially Toki called Charles hoping that he could have an ambulance sent urgently but Charles insisted it wasn’t safe and instead had a trained medical team sent instead, one of which walked Toki over the phone of how to deliver his baby.

The tabloids said that the paternity tests were faked. The news papers run articles asking who they were and why they were making such bold accusations, and why Skwisgaar had ever just rolled over and agreed to them instead of fought them in court. The Dethklok Minute does a special on their entire history and how this came to be! Skwisgaar and his partner had tried to go low profile. The tried to be secret. And they succeeded for years until they decided to be naughty one evening after a huge concert. They weren’t too worried. They’d been legally married for 5 years and even joked about rugrats sometimes. That is before his S/o kindly reminded him of the ??? Amount of back child support he’d have to pay if anyone found out. And find out they did. As soon as Skwisgaar appeared beside his partner to hear the heartbeat, despite numerous NDA’s being spread and signed, the rumors spread. Not that the couple minded. Now Skwisgaar could do what he loved with his partner out in the open. Like have cute dates and shop for way too many cute baby clothes. Skwisgaar was convinced his baby was a girl by 6 weeks. He wanted to pamper her every day and spoil her rotten. Skwisgaar played a new song for his baby every night after massaging and making sweet love to his partner so that they always knew they were the center of his life no matter what. His partner’s water broke right on time on the due date. Having been through the process several times he knew the routine. He has a go bag ready and waiting with a car seat already firmly placed in the car. He helped their doula to guide his partner through the delivery. Breathing through deep breaths, bouncing on yoga balls, taking all the bruises as they squeezed the life out of his thigh (the only request he asked knowing they could break his fingers). Finally when time came to push he helped them into the pool, welcoming baby into the world he was proud to know. His instincts were right.

(Bonus)

Charles never thought of having children seriously. He has Dethklok to raise and take care of. He didn’t have time or energy for a human being that couldn’t care for himself. But when his S/O came and announced the pregnancy… he had to admit a mini version of himself didn’t seem horrible. Charlie hated it but he wasn’t able to be at every appointment his partner needed. He simply hoped they took care of themselves and told him the important things. He tried to buy them little things he knew would make them smile when he knew he’d be gone a while. Mobiles, onesies, bibs, a crib, paint to decorate, a gift card to her favorite restaurant. He spoiled them every chance he had just to remind them he cared. Eventually around month 4 he paid the scientists way too much money to create a new type of smart watch to track his partner’s vitals and medical records to be sent to his dethphone any time he wasn’t able be there. The smart watch was equipped with a holographic phone projector so when ever his love wanted to see him all they needed to do was call. As time went on Charles had his staff trained in various positions so that his baby could be delivered on site near him. He started training a… substitute of sorts (Abigail) for himself while he was away on paternity leave. Unfortunately babies were unpredictable. Especially when full moons were involved. He planned to leave in two more days. Give the boys more time to adjust to Abigail being sub-CFO until he got back. But when he got the call saying his partner needed an emergency c-section he left without a second thought, only yelling orders as he walked the halls. He waited in the waiting room for much longer than he wanted to. This wasn’t how he’d planned it. And he hated it. But as the minutes ticked by, and more and more of his boys disobeyed his orders to stay away choosing to come sit by him in the waiting room either in silence or to provide lighthearted conversation. He knew he was never alone and his baby had the best uncles in the world.



[fuckyeahalfredmolina]

Stan

Picture it. Sicily, 1912. California. 2022. 8 AM.

You’re walking with your mom to get some breakfast. You run into Freddino who’s getting a coffee and maybe a doughnut (or two). You shyly ask if you could take a picture with him and he agrees. You stand next to his towering height. Your mom raises the phone and enthusiastically says: SMIIIILLLLLE!!!

Freddino:

You are shaken.

You scream internally.

You wish to disappear and become nothing.

Like a turd in the wind.

(click here to get the bad joke)

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Today I had my usual round in Instagram where I search for Freddino looking for his latest news and updates. There are many fans pictures that I liked and haven’t seen before. I kept the caption on just a few because I liked it, especially the first one. I love how this man goes around telling people they look sexy or good. Totally Gemini thing.