#pins on the bag of tricks

[rowanxaubri]

[anistarrose]

[ID from alt:

Lynne from Ghost Trick in her angry sprite, text to a text post reads: "Kill me once, shame on you. Kill me twice, how did you do that." with an addition reading: "Kill me three times, this timeloop fucking sucks".

Cabanela's confidently smiling sprite next to an edited Wikipedia screenshot. It's a section menu reading: "Life, Serving Cunt, Death, Resurrection, Serving Cunt 2.0".

Lynne smiling, next to a textpost that reads: "I pull the pin and throw the grenade straight up. Then I throw the pin straight up, and it slides right back into the grenade in midair, disarming it. When the grenade lands, it bonks me in the skull, killing me."

The pigeon man/superintendent, next to a tweet reading: "Occasionally I'll get a sudden powerful urge to grab a pigeon off the street and shove it in my bag, but apart from that everything's fine".

End ID.]

hey. hey you. play ghost trick

[erideights]

Little pieces here and there (3)

Pairing: Buggy x Fem!Reader (One Piece Live Action)

Chapters: one, two, four, five

Word Count: around 2K again.

Warnings: minimum context of the arlong park part of the story (background), MUTUAL FLIRTING, forbiden pinning of them both, Buggy has his body back *wiggling eyebrows*, sexy times

A/N: devil works hard but i'm working harder, every 5 free min i have from work/class/practices i'm writing on my phone, i'ts actually insane and i love it (ROAD TO CHAPTER 4?? If you like this one and want the next one, please let me know!)

Oh, he was mad. He was really mad.

Maybe "sexually frustrated" was a way more accurate term given the circumstances but the feeling was so strong, so visceral, he was sure he was reaching a point where jumping to the sea to end that agony -even if a bit exaggerated, like him always, everywhere and for everything- was justified.

Somewhere in Arlong Park, Buggy could feel the boner pressing his pants, demanding to be satisfied; dirty talk was one of his true passions and when (Y/N) played that card on him, being capable of picturing himself with her on his lap, that damn woman so -actually- close to his face in that moment he was already tasting her lips, her low, smooth voice driving him insane, he could not help it, but get turned on so easily and so strong is been hours, and he's still mad, incapable of stop thinking about that.

That is, perhaps, the reason he feels relief as soon as the sun rises and Usopp is back on the helm again, asking for directions as Buggy, in fact, demands to go faster. Like instead of slicing and dicing his body, his power could control the wind that propelled the boat or the force of the waves against the hull.

(Y/N) ran away just after such a -even if brief- conversation. She may have broken his balls with that dirty trick, but she was equally a victim of her own game. She knew what to say to push Buggy and leave him so stunned -to speak- that the poor clown didn't have the chance to fight back at that moment, not without his body to help him keep her in that kitchen, lift her up on the counter, force her to back down, regret even thinking she could do that to him, and then, only then, yes, fuck her until she wakes up the rest of her little and - according to him - pathetic crew with her moans.

Or so the girl imagined, leaning against the door of her room, eyes closed, heart slightly racing, fighting the temptation to lie down on the bed and masturbate thinking about what had just happened.

Which included him. Him!! What the hell, was she actually losing her mind? All that damn flirting had really gotten into her, for fucks sake, because regardless of her finding him quite interesting when they met, this attraction was something else.

Lately everything around her was something else. Did she really think through the decision of leaving her mercenary life behind and follow those kids to the Grand Line? Did she really think through the decision of flirting back with a psychopath clown?

Because in the end it's just that, right? Flirting. Was nothing else, is nothing else, and will be nothing else. She doesn’t want it to be something more, that's for sure; there's no need for unnecessary complications and extra headaches. In the meantime, it's fun, a bit of a backfire kind of situation, a bit -sexually- frustrating, but fun.

After a good ol' resting night and already some hours into the new day, (Y/N) notices that it's been a lot, since their encounter in the kitchen to be precise, that Buggy not only doesn't flirt with her, but doesn't talk that much or even look at her as amazed as before. Of course, he is, also, way less annoying, which Zoro subtly points out clearly pleased with how calm, nice and silent this morning is.

At some point she shakes her head, knowing, or at least guessing, the reason for this behavior, so she decides to check no one's around and the rudder is locked in the right direction, and then goes to where the bag with his head is, closed probably by the sniper when he got the last indications he needed from him. She opens it, lowering it until the clown's head is free on top of that barrel.

"How are you doing, Bugs?" she starts with a funny little smile, looking intently at him as she leans her back forward to leave her face level with his. "It's been hours I don't hear your raspy voice, I'm starting to miss it."

Silence. Absolute indifference besides the sidelong glance he gives her because let's face it, Buggy is annoyingly proud, extremely, exaggeratedly, but he loves attention. He likes nothing more than receiving it, no matter where, when, and from who, and she could see it as soon as they met.

"Also your silly nicknames for me" She grants, giving in. She would also be mad as hell if someone leaves her as horny as she knew she left him, so she doesn't have any problem being the one to start the tug-war this time.

"Already tired of the shidiots?" He finally asks, almost drily, after a minute; now he is the one to play difficult, huh? "No wonder, they don't even know where to start being pirates."

"Oh, of course, because no one compares to the famous Buggy The Clown, the colorful nightmare or the East Blue." Playful, she retreats a bit, resting her hip in the barrel, arms crossed over her chest.

"Quit the sarcasm doll, you know I'm right." Well, he was, in fact, right. None of them had real experience in the whole i-wanna-become-a-pirate thing, still, they were doing pretty good to be newbies. She was quite proud of them.

"I cannot wait to have my body back" he then murmurs, adding before she could say anything else about her new friends. "To do what?" She asks, you know, like she didn't know.

"Take a guess"

"Recover your spotlight? Find a new crew and a way to enter the Grand Line to go search the One Piece and be the king of the pirates?" (Y/N) mocks, clearly enjoying being the annoying one this time.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah'' Buggy rolls his eyes, scoffing. ''All that, but not before making you regret what you did last night." To that accusation she gasps, resting her right hand over her chest "What did I do last night?"

The clown falls silent again, but his mood is completely different. Right now he's not pissed off, it's obvious that this time, instead of flirting with her in a casual and natural way, he’s thinking what to say, choosing carefully his words to return a fraction of the effect she had on him hours ago.

His eyes darken, and his voice goes octanes lower and raspier. "Sweetheart, there will be no possible escape from what I plan to do with you. At the slightest opportunity I will make you cum on me so many times you will be the one to find the One Piece without needing to go to the Grand Line, but first…'' He pauses, breathes, and lets it go calmly, like the intimidating, psychopathic calculator she saw at the circus and not that flirty cartoonish version she got to know on the ship. ''you will beg for it."

She knows she shouldn't surrender to this type of tease, but she also can't and doesn't want to avoid it. Getting heavily carried away, without thinking about it twice, one of the girl's hands slides to the back of his neck, slipping under the bandana, and tugs his hair aggressively as she leans in again to speak close to his face. He grunts in pure satisfaction, closing his eyes for a second. Of course (Y/N) is, once again, taking advantage of the fact that he cannot defend himself no being more than a head, and the fact is that he enjoys like a condemned bastard those small but intense gestures the girl has given him since they met at the circus.

He can't wait to break a woman like her. And oh, he will.

"Are you sure about that?" Hearing distant steps, someone from the crew coming out on deck and climbing the stairs, she gets some distance from him, acting naturally, closing the bag again around his head. "My expectations just skyrocketed, I hope you don't disappoint."

By the end of the day, the Konomi Islands begin to appear on the horizon, and as soon as they set foot on them, shits get really serious. The situation of the poor people who live there is heartbreaking, so for two days, no one dares to make a single joke, Luffy's usual energy and bubbly positivity is nowhere to be seen, and of course, the interactions of (Y/N) and Buggy are reduced to = 0. The clown's head is no longer of any real use to them, and it’s poor Sanji, the new recruit, who’s carrying it around just in case.

At least until they reach Arlong Park.

Again, (Y/N) is not exactly the type of mercenary expert in martial arts and although she knows how to defend herself, fighting like Zoro or Sanji is, in few words, impossible. Her only advantage is being very, very fast, and knowing how to use the scenery to her advantage, so it doesn't take long for her to hide here and there among the different tents and attractions in the area to get rid of the most straggler fishmen, with a knife she got long ago during one of her jobs, capable of cutting their tough skin easily.

Everything happens so fast and is so chaotic that apart from some screams and blows in the background and having seen Usopp running towards the forest, (Y/N) is completely unaware of what is happening in the main complex.

A strong pull on her left arm activates her flight or fight response as one last fish falls dead to the ground in front of her. Raising the knife, in a quick movement, she tries to defend herself by aiming at the stranger's neck, although in vain; a pair of lips whose red has already been worn for days impact against hers, stealing her breath, a small moan escaping her. Eyes wide open, she barely registers the blurry color of Buggy's nose when two strong hands squeeze her hips as if the life of the clown depended on it, pushing the girl against the wall of the building behind them, cornering her without any type of delicacy.

She hadn't heard from him since they reached the island. Hell, she didn't even know he had got his full body back and was already so close to it that air was unable to pass between each other.

Of course, the moment the clown's head joined the rest of himself -the feeling much better than he remembered- he fucked off his captors and decided to flee. Not before making a vital stop along the way.

The ideas about how to proceed with her once he was whole were very, very different in his wild fantasies, but when he saw the girl's back, he knew that the only thing that would -partially- calm his yearning would be to kiss her before disappearing as fast as possible. To taste her lips, to feel her warmth.

Still not recovered from the shock of the kiss, Y/N doesn't remove the knife from the clown's neck, but he couldn't care less; quite the opposite. He is so turned on and waited so much -again, exaggerated- for this he doesn't know yet how he will be able to break the kiss, take distance from her, and run away.

Passionately carried away, moved by his most primitive instincts, Buggy sneaks one of his legs between hers, pressing in between them as Y/N inhales through her nose and her free hand flies to his vest, pulling it a little.

It wasn't the time, nor the place, to think about fucking that asshole, but damn, after all the teasing and the tension and the adrenaline of the fight--

And just when she starts fully giving in to him, he retreats just enough, panting a bit, and looks at her now red, stained lips, eyes darkened and full of lust. Just like hers.

"Hate to leave you like this sweetheart but I have things to do and places to go. I don't want people relating me to Arlong, I would hate the bad press on my persona." He whispers, cracking his usual cruel, playful smirk when he finally puts some distance between each other.

‘’It's time to exit stage left.’’ Buggy adds, theatrically raising both hands in the air. ‘’I promise I’ll see you around.’’

And like this, he stars running away again. Where? She doesn't know, or even guess at this moment, too busy registering the kiss in her memory, the way his lips felt on hers, how his nose pressed her cheek the entire time, or his hands grabbed onto her for dear life.

Bastard.

''You better'', she whispers to herself.

[suiana]

✎ yandere! loser headcanons . . .

✎ warnings . . .

― stalking, manipulation, delusional yandere, mentions of p0rn, slight nsfw, stockholm syndrome (?) etc.

(gn! reader x male yandere! oc)

✎ yandere! loser who's basically a shut in, rarely coming out of his apartment except for compulsory lessons at university. he's a huge loser, shit talking others during games, messy apartment, dark eye bag circles, always ordering delivery for his food... he's practically the embodiment of the word loser! if it weren't for his rich parents he would not survived a day past his 18th birthday.

✎ yandere! loser who sees you as his salvation, the only hope in his dark life. through your streams he found purpose in his life - to be with you. and when he found out you went to the same university as him? he just knew that you were meant to be with him! why else would you speak his username so lovingly every time he donates to you?

✎ yandere! loser who's obviously a big virgin. I mean, what would you expect from a guy who hasn't held a girl's hand since he was 5? plus he doesn't even come out of his apartment! the most experience he has is from the pornography he used to watch. don't worry! he doesn't watch it anymore! because now all he has to do is imagine you sucking him off and he cums instantly. he's a true loser. but he's your loser, yours! :D

✎ yandere! loser who stalks you both online and physically. at this point he knows more about you than all of your friends do, maybe even you yourself! he's also the type of guy to like something you posted 69 weeks ago just because he liked how you looked in it. but does one post from long ago matter when he literally spam likes everything you post?

✎ yandere! loser who tries to rizz you up with tips and tricks he read online from sites like Reddit. he read all those success stories in the Reddit comment section so surely it must work out for him too, right?! wrong. because when he tried to pin you against a wall and call you 'baby', you only snorted in laughter, calling him funny and walking off with your friends. why didn't it work?! it was from user @/masterrizzler3000 on Reddit so it should've worked! he's sad now :(

✎ yandere! loser who isn't actually that bad looking. if he put in some more effort into his appearance he would've been a solid 10/10 in your opinion. but unfortunately he doesn't and that brings him to a 6.5/10. don't worry, there's something about his loser self that makes him cuter :) and that's when you decided to give him a chance and go out with him. best worst mistake of your life.

✎ yandere! loser who's actually a pretty good gaslighter and manipulator, so good that you actually agreed to date him. though he isn't aware that he's actually manipulating you so to him, you're falling for him because you genuinely love him. looks like religiously watching monster and death note worked for him. and that kids, is the story of how I (21m) landed myself a solid 100/10 with my loser self!!! -him, probably.

✎ yandere! loser who believes wholeheartedly that you and him are meant to be. sure, you may be a little more lifeless than you used to be, he's not sure why, but you love him! you tell him that every morning after you wake up in his bed! the soft 'i love you's' and 'im yours' from your sweet mouth are practically proof that you love him too, right?! fret not, for he loves you too ♡

✎ "please! I'll die without you-! you... you won't let that happen, would you? haha... of course you won't. you love me after all ♡"

[roll-of-royces]

HC: The LaDS Find You as a Neko

This is a request I ran into by @chryssikyu and as I love a good Neko I had fun!

Xavier considers himself to be fairly prepared for the world at large. He's not so simple as most people seem to think he is, but this he did not expect. 

You are asleep, curled up on top of the covers instead of beneath them. That's not the unusual part, the two of you are avid nap takers. Many afternoons have been dedicated to curling up together and falling asleep in the sun. 

This is different. This is different for several reasons. One, you're napping in nothing but a thin white nightdress that barely comes to the mid-thigh. Two, you have two large fluffy looking cat ears. Three, those ears are accompanied by a lush tail that drapes over your thigh as you slumber. 

The fur has a soft pale white sheen. He has no idea how this could have happened, and he's seen so much in his life. Xavier approaches, steps light, as if he is approaching a threat instead of the light of his life. His hand reaches out, tentatively brushing the tip of your new ear. It twitches, not a trick. 

He can't help himself, he sinks onto the edge of the bed, you huff but don't awaken. Before he knows it he has his hand around your tail, dragging downward to feel the soft warmth. You open your eyes, and those too have changed. Your pupils are different, cat like, though still your color. 

"Do you understand me?" He asks carefully. 

You hum, yawn again, and rest your head on his lap, "Xavier." Your voice is the same, still rough with sleep. Still you, just you a little different. 

"What happened?" His hand comes to curl into your hair, it feels softer than it was before. It's nice.

"Dunno." You close your eyes, apparently content to go back to sleep. "Missed you." 

He smiles, because that never gets old to hear. You lean into his hand, arms curling around his waist. Well, he could nap. 

"Move over." He murmurs and you do as asked, knowing well enough he will join you. You'll figure this out in due time. For now he curls atop the bed, with you pressed along his side, tail twitching contentedly as he holds you to him. 

It's not entirely uncommon for Zayne to find you in his office, especially since the two of you started openly stating you're a couple. Sometimes you drop in to see him, sometimes you're only there long enough to leave take-out on his desk before you're gone again. 

Regardless seeing you is always a pleasant surprise. He says your name in greeting, but you keep looking out the window. You're in a hoodie, hood up. It might be Xaviers'. Zayne chews on the jealousy of that for a moment, before letting out a slow breath through his nose. 

You must have been cold. He'll give you his jacket to wear home. You don't look up when he enters, eyes still pinned on something out of the window. He takes another step and sees Clopidogrel hovering on the windowsill. "We should set out some more nuts for him." Zayne says conversationally, walking toward his desk to get the bag he has there for this very purpose. 

Once he's by his desk he gets a view of your face, somewhat shadowed by the hood. There is enough light to see your eyes, the unnatural shape of them. Zayne freezes, scanning you over for injuries. Bag forgotten he heads right for you, watching you track the resident squirrel. 

His hand comes to your chin, pulling your face up to look at him. A doctor's gaze that floods concern through him, he pushes the hood back and is met with twitching fluffy black ears. His thumb pulls your lip up to see the sharpness of some of your teeth. He's heard of this condition only vaguely. 

Harmless, short term. Like the common cold, the tightness in his shoulders relaxes. "Are you alright?" 

Your eyes continue to track the squirrel, "Yes." 

"You can't have him." Zayne informs you, amusement coloring his tone. He'll need to take the rest of the day off at least, make sure you're safe. Your impulsivity will be up, you're likely to do something foolish. 

"Want him." 

He reaches out and pets the top of your head, scratching at your scalp with his nails to distract you from the prey you are being denied. It works, your eyes slip closed, and you lean into his hand. 

"We'll get you some food on the way home." He promises. "Come on, kitten." 

It's the first time he's used the term of endearment but Zayne thinks it might stick. 

Rafayel juggles the bags over one arm as he pushes his studio door open with his foot, calling out as soon as he's through, "If only my bodyguard came with me today. These bags are so heavy!" He gets the door closed, frowning when you don't call out in reply or approach. 

Depositing the bags onto the kitchen counter Rafayel goes off in search of you. He doesn't expect what he finds. You're on the balcony outside of your shared bedroom, in nothing but one of his shirts. Which normally he would not mind, not one bit. 

However. You have a pair of purple ears and a tail to match, a tail that is moving on its own, flicking from side to side. Oh no, oh no. You've got that weird cat sickness. He's read about it, he even had a nightmare once. 

Rafayel rushes toward you, colliding with the balcony railing to look at you. And when you turn to him, ears pivoting, eyes strange he doesn't know what to do. "Are you ... are you alright?" 

You nod, and then step into his arms. He flounders momentarily before he remembers this is you, cat or not, this is you. And he is safe. He is safe. 

His arms wrap around you, as you tuck yourself against his chest. "Play with me, I'm bored." 

Rafayel relaxes further hearing you sound normal, if a bit needy. He likes when you're needy, he likes the fact you need him. "What do you want to do? Not eat me I hope." 

Your eyes spark with mirth, and then you sink your teeth into the side of his neck. He squeaks, but you let go and it didn't really hurt. 

"I'm not on the menu." He scolds. "Find another fish to chew on." 

[thewriterg]

𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐬𝐢𝐧’ 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐨𝐬 chp.1

pairing(s); simon ‘ghost’ riley x fem!reader, johnny ‘soap’ mactavish x fem!reader, kyle ‘gaz’ garrick x fem!reader, john ‘bravo six’ price, werewolf!soap, harp crow hybrid!gaz, dragon hybrid!price, wraith!hybrid (?) ghost, phoenix!hybrid (?) reader

summary; new recruits, questions, and a bag of tricks

warning(s); monster au, dark twisted themes, normal cod violence, firearms, knives, combat, pinning (?), poly themes, death, r call sign is flatline, blood consumption, eventual smut, kissin, and language

A/n; my toxic trait is starting a new series before finishing my other ones 😊 | chasin chaos masterlist

“Sergeant Mactavish, Werewolf.” The brunette held his hand out clawed fingers reaching about for the lieutenant who barely spared it a glance before looking back towards his sergeant and captain who smirked or started back at him smugly your presence lacking completely which was uncommon even if you weren’t meeting the eye he could feel your presence today it was gone but he temporarily stopped himself from dawning on it while words spewed from his lips

“Where’d you find this guy?” The gruff voice drizzled over the sassy reply made Gaz bight back a chuckle

“At the end of a rainbow” The harpy replied smartly his arms crossed over his chest feathers lying delicately over the surface of his forearms slightly lighter than the ones on his back where his wings sat it’s trail coming curtly to an end when it reached his the front of his wrist that damned fitted cap resting around his head in its common home ground talons tapping one of the many quills the sound almost sounding if he were thunking a table having his feathers harden on command just for the sake of it a quirk you could say

“Worth his weight in gold mind you” Price offered eyes not looking up from some type of notes he were reading over thick pear and moss mixed green colored horns sitting adorned on his well kept hair curling slightly forward and up Ghost could tell he was wearing an older shirt since there were two holes cut out instead of one for his stray wing that still sat strong spar bones matching the color of his horns and furless tail while the mainsail resembled a more dirty rag cream color

“They said it not me” Soap grinned mock waving off the compliment quirking the damned thick bushy brow of his the only one with a slit slicing right through the point of the arch while the hulking man sighed heavily dragging a hand over his covered face balaclava with a simple print of his actual hard mask a skull

“Fuckin’ hell… you follow orders?” The muffled voice was not a mere obstacle for the hybrid to hear the slight pointed ears on the side of his face doing their job well to listen

“I well trained if that’s what you’re asking. Sit, stay, paw, jump, roll over, I know ‘em all.” The brunette looked off mocking a ponderous expression counting off on his fingers the canines in his mouth slightly showing even though they were retracted

“Real bag of tricks, aren’t you?” The instinct in the sergeant perked up as you suddenly trailed beside ghost surprised that he hadn’t been able to pick up your presence or at least your scent quicker like he had with Ghost especially since they were so… different not having a face to match with your cooled voice since it seemed you also favored a balaclava yours simply plain black yet he didn’t mind just gave him two sheets to play at once…

Raking eyes over your figure the man determined you were a looker for sure yet he didn’t miss how the other silently agreed

“My apologies miss, I dinae get your name” Soap stated a now gentle smile resting on his face that you seemingly ignored accent seeping through a little more and as more time went on the more he could smell the authority coming from you and Ghost it was a little less than Price yet more than Gaz and the other recruits around base

“Depends who you ask. What’s the role you’ve had in your pack?” You questioned eyes low that he could see through the gap in your mask where your sight shone through staring him down almost as if you could see right through his soul yet he kept his quirky grin Mohawk stopping just below the base of his neck a small piece of stray hair lying against his forehead thick fluffy tail perking up slightly swaying against the back of his thighs cargo pants dipping in the back just below his tail

“I’ve been in a few packs could be an alpha, beta, omega if you wanted me to… but I seen you have your roles sorted. I’ve got no problem bein’ ah pup miss” You roll your eyes at that while the brunette winks you swiftly trail away dragging Ghost away with you picking up Price on the way while both men let you drag them along their hulking figure’s towering over your back boots slightly thumping against the floor before your figures disappear within the halls he turns to the crow who’s fiddling with the screen of his phone

“You ever feel left out of somethin’?” Soap questions and Gaz suddenly stands a small smirk on his face as he rakes his eyes over the wolf before shaking his head

“There’s enough for everyone to get their fill, you’ll be next soon enough” Without an explanation the sergeant was already trailing away opposite of where you had gone leaving him alone

But never for too long

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･⋆.ೃ࿔*:･⋆.ೃ࿔*:･⋆.ೃ࿔*:･⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

“It’s rude to stare sergeant” Ghost grunted gruffly after jamming his janky locker shut barely giving Soap enough time to look at his shadows slipping from under his glove some looking like it was traveling farther up almost resembling veins while the rest began to make a small cloud on his wrist until he shoved his sleeve over the sight unapologetic about the whole thing barely looking over his shoulder to acknowledge the wolf as he stood behind him

“Just tryin’ ta figure you out, Lt.” He grins tail becoming livelier as it perks up behind his back before it reluctantly lowers still up and lively

“I’m well traveled, seen a lot of things, met a lot of people. Never smelt anythin’ like you… or Flatline for that matter” A slightly clawed finger rests curled on his chin tail gently flapping up and down it had been a little over a week since he was recruited it didn’t take long for him to find out your name or call sign that might have well been your name since no one seemed to know it just by the brief description of eerie, bold eyes, and a mask to cover you face, he got the answer of either Ghost or Flatline

“Hell of a compliment soldier” The blonde resorts almost sarcastically finally looking over his broad shoulder to lock eyes with the brunette and he waves him off finally stepping closer to the skull mask wearing man deciding by his side was the best place to stand and if he noted the smoke trying to spill from his pockets where he had his hands shoved deeply he didn’t say anything about it

“Och, you know I dinnae mean it that way. Can’t blame me for bein’ interested, I never packed with a wraith hybrid before… or a phoenix thought they were bedtime stor-”

“Not hybrids” Ghost cuts off the scott before he can dig any deeper and he furrowed his eyebrows questioning if he had heard right if his ears were failing him or not with a small ‘what’ spilled from his lips

“We’re not hybrids.”

“No shit? What the hell is tha’ like?” Swiftly Simon was in front of him eyes bold yet precise slicing right through him while Johnny’s gaze slightly widened at the quick movement his boots not even so much a squeaking against the ground a bit of the air currents flowing against Soaps slight shorter form

“You ever shut up Mactavish?” He somewhat seethed and the wolf was back to sly grin in less than minute, the grin that showed his canines in the full well kept facial hair adorning his structure even more, the grin the wraith wanted to wipe of his fucking face to be exact.

“Only when people make me.” Soap implied looking up slightly to address his superior with a voice that would make other feverish or peely in his terms that damned drunken grin still on his lips while Ghost practically stared him down eyes slightly squinted thoughts brewing behind those sharp, precise eyes of his that the Scott couldn’t wait to hear of tail swaying behind him with a bit more speed than before but of course his Lt. was a tease and put all his weight on one foot to turn walking out of the locker room without so much a grunt but he liked the chase

And so did superiors

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･⋆.ೃ࿔*:･⋆.ೃ࿔*:･⋆.ೃ࿔*:･⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

“It’s an in and out mission that I’m sure you could do on your own, however I don’t need higher ups on my ass about favoritism. You’ll grab a few normals and head Midwest in the states to Chicago. One out of three missiles resigns with one of the biggest weapons busts in America that’s supposedly on its way over to Russia package delivery for a friend of ours… Makarov.” The air in the room shifted at the name drop of a once friend fallen foe even though You and Prices shoulders were up at the mere mention of Russia itsself you had a love hate relationship with meeting room as you got passed a file over things you truly didn’t need to go over things that a rookie could even fill in the blanks for

“This will either be the easiest sail of your life or your standing on the line of death, you all know your first priority even though I know you don’t want to hear it. Push come to shove the normals go first.” The older short cut haired woman looked at You, Price, and Ghost especially Soap noticed it confused him at first the wraith and phoenix at least, two lieutenants in such a small base or at least a small base that wasn’t Air Force but it made sense to him shortly after when he peeked in on occasional training sessions thought out a week You and Ghost switched groups between normals and weaker hybrids both favoring one group more than the other deep down and then at the end of the week bring them together to spar

“Wheels up at 04:00 tomorrow I’m sure you’ll have your picks by then.” Laswell sighed looking around the table for any objections your sitting between Soap and Gaz while Price and Ghost are sitting on the opposite side of the rounded table one of your legs are crossed under your form while the other is propped up you have your arms wrapped around it and your covered chin is lying on your knee and without another word she grabbed her laptop and exited room something about a ball and chain to her desk

The wolf and harpy are first to get up from their seats and the winged hybrid doesn’t go before gently brushing his fingers against your arm migrating towards the exit even though he’s stopped shortly by a shit eating grin and swaying tail conversation quickly taking place between the two

“So, what do you think?” Price hums both him and Simon approaching your seat as you began to stand rolling your shoulders eyes low beneath your mask it was still early in the day only 13:27 you had a training group normals at 14:15 sharp anyone who was a minute late got to run laps around base even if they weren’t hybrids or the ‘superior’ race in the field you couldn’t determine if you were fighting a hybrid or a normal and if you babied them because they were weaker than a super they wouldn’t have a fighting chance against one.

“He asks a lot of questions” Ghost responds curtly while the older man takes no offense to it producing a chuckle from the back of his throat taking out a cigar from his breast pocket in his vest holding out the thick brown lump filled with nicotine out to the blonde who responded by taking out a silver lighter snapping the cover back quickly as it produced a flame its front covered by an ace card with its main attraction being a skull the drug lights aflame a small hissing sound coming from it when the salt and pepper haired hybrid took a drag

“Comes with the package. Wolves don’t like uncertainty in the pack dynamic.”

“He knew you and Gaz before he transferred, didn’t he?” You spoke up squinting your eyes at your captain eyelashes mere meters away from kissing your cheek standing the only way he could get a read on you and Simon he usually says ‘those eyes can tell you everything and nothing all at once, just gotta watch em.’

“Yes, but you’re both hell of a new variable” Price admits before smugly nudging your shoulders with his strong single wing while Ghost crossed his arms over his chest you roll your eyes stepping away from the pair

“Save your verdicts until you see him in action, he’s a vision in the field.”

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･⋆.ೃ࿔*:･⋆.ೃ࿔*:･⋆.ೃ࿔*:･⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

Hey… how yall doing 😅

I haven’t posted since October I missed you writers!

Ermm I’m a year older —Nov 8th— happy belated birthday to me

And that’s about it 😭

[fuckmyskywalker]

❄️ 𝐃𝐞𝐜𝐞𝐦𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝟐𝟑𝐫𝐝 : 𝐋𝐚𝐬𝐭 𝐌𝐢𝐧𝐮𝐭𝐞 𝐒𝐡𝐨𝐩𝐩𝐢𝐧𝐠 - 𝐀𝐧𝐚𝐤𝐢𝐧 𝐒𝐤𝐲𝐰𝐚𝐥𝐤𝐞𝐫.

— CW: Age gap. Sexual innuendo. Dad's best friend!Anakin. Reader is in their early 20s, Anakin is in his 40s. Mentions of divorce. No smut. | Word count: 1k (not proofread)!

— a/n: I always write smut but somehow I wanted to change things up a bit.

“Are you sure? I don’t want to trouble you, dear.”

Anakin said as you fasten your seatbelt. 

“It’s not a problem at all, Mr. Skywalker.” You replied with a nod, offering him a soothing smile. “Holidays can be quite stressful, if I can do anything to help you, I will.”

Anakin sighed in return, patting your thigh affectionately. “Thank you, sweetpea. Your dad raised you well.”

His words shouldn't make you blush, neither should the brief touch on your thigh… but it does. You are aware of how wrong it is— Anakin has been your father's best friend since high school, he was there throughout your childhood and he offered your father a place to stay after the divorce. He had been nothing more than nice, always bringing Christmas and Birthday gifts, always showing interest, asking questions, offering a shoulder to cry… how can a man twice your age be more lovely and caring than any guy your age? 

The trip to the mall wasn't even a long nor tedious one. The only problem was the 30 minute line to the cash register… and even that wasn't a problem itself— Anakin made sure to keep you entertained, making you laugh and giggle again and again so you totally forgot you were even waiting. 

You weren’t allowed to carry any bags, of course not! Anakin carried the six bags in one hand, while placing a hand on your lower back as you two crossed the large street towards his parked vehicle. Despite your thick sweater, you could feel his fingers and how they left burning spots in their wake. A strange feeling of guilt crosses your mind— when you offered to go with him to buy some last minute gifts you didn't have such intentions in mind, but whenever you were alone with him, it was as if your mind flipped a little invisible switch that caused you to look at the man who was the closest thing to an uncle… the same way you'd seen a man. 

You avoid eye contact for a while, continuing your little chit chat until it becomes noticeable how silent you are. Or perhaps were you being paranoid? Only God knows. You feel suffocated inside Anakin’s black Mercedes despite the cold winter weather outside, and, unbeknownst to you, he noticed it.

“Hey,” Anakin called your name, stopping at a red light to turn his attention to you. There’s concern etched on his handsome face, and you cursed yourself for those lingering eyes that went from the small furrow of his brows, the slight wrinkles around his eyes, and the way his blue orbs scanned your expression. “Is everything alright? You are eerily quiet.”

“Yes,” Your reply was quickly, perhaps too quickly to even be believable. “Just… tired, I woke up early.” It was a lie, but it seemed to do the trick. Anakin nodded, although the worry stayed. 

Relieved to see he finally reached the residential area, you focused on the Christmas decorations in every front yard, not noticing how Anakin began to slow down— before stopping the car a few houses away from his. 

“Mr. Skywalker?” You asked but he quickly cut you.

“Anakin. Call me Anakin.” One hand remained on the steering wheel while the other touched your forehead with the back side. “Well you don’t have a fever, so there must be something else going on.”

You swallowed, suddenly nervous. If the car felt suffocating before, now it was a goddamned sauna. “I’m just tired, I told you.” 

“I don’t believe it.”

His tone changed swiftly as his hand traced your cheekbone, stopping at your chin to raise your head. Anakin leaned closer, inspecting your face, scrutinizing every detail. The atmosphere shifted, there was something else happening but you couldn't quite put a pin on it. The older man took a deep breath, before cutting the distance between your lips.

The kiss was barely a kiss, it was more of a gentle brush that caused your breath to hitch in your throat. A surge of confusion and excitement ran through your veins— it wasn't going the way you expected, but you couldn't complain either.

“Interesting,” Anakin whispered against your parted lips, his hot breath mingling with yours. “And here I thought you were getting sick.” He chuckled. How could he be laughing after he just kissed you?

Unable to mutter a single word, you stare at him dumbfounded. Your face is burning, he kissed you. And he acted as if it was the most normal thing ever.

“Are you going to keep staring at me, or are you going to kiss me?”

“But— you… you are married.”

“And?” Anakin shook his head, chuckling again. “I know your father tells you everything I say; you know I'm signing those divorce papers soon.” He was right. You did know that. If there was anything your dad loved more than cars and beer, it was gossiping. 

“But—”

“And don’t try to deny it. I've seen the way you look at me. You are quite discreet though, I have to give you that,” Anakin kissed you again, so casually it turned you into a dizzy mess. “You aren’t prancing yourself in short skirts, or trying to play innocent, or even doing that ridiculous thing of bending in front of me… no. You are a smart girl, not a slut. But you can’t hide that look in your eyes, how your whole face brightens when you are next to me, or the interest you have in me, and it’s quite flattering.”

Anakin talked while you stared at him with a dumb expression. You feel exposed and in the worst way— you could swear you weren't being obvious.

As if he was able to read your mind, he caressed your chin to soothe you. “I wasn't sure at the beginning. I felt… quite guilty for thinking of you in such a way, doll. But the more I observed you, the more I noticed those little details. And those little details only drove me crazy…” Daringly, his kisses followed a path down your jaw, smirking against your skin when you crooked your neck instinctively to grant him more access. “You drive me crazy.”

“Anakin,” You finally manage to speak. Your voice is meek and ashamed, you feel like a thief being caught and ready to be sentenced. “I… I don’t know what to say.”

“It’s alright, doll,” Once again, Anakin seemed to know what to do. Somehow everything about this man is correct. “There’s other sounds I'm more interested in listening to than words.”

— ❄️ Taglist! : @offthethirlwall | @pockcock | @shellxrls | @anisdoll | @wifeofasith | @anakinsgirlfriendreal | @anisgurll | @mortalheartache | @arzua10 | @haydensgirlaela | @bimbo-baggins86 | @https-luvaviva | @bunnylovesani | @glazelilies | @slvttedoutmars

[britany1997]

Man of Your Midsummer Night’s Dreams

Dwayne x GN Fae Reader

Hope y’all enjoy this sweet little meet cute fic for Dwayne and Fae reader! Was really going for a ‘intimidating tough guy x sunshine reader’ trope hehe.

Comment to let me know you’d like to be added to my TLB taglist.

Dividers by @firefly-graphics

Dwayne awoke with a start, fumbling around in the dark. He patted around his necklace, only to find another piece missing.

He growled lowly to himself and jumped down from the ceiling, waking the boys.

Paul yawned, rubbing his eyes. “What’s wrong man, why ya up so early?”

Dwayne frowned. “It happened again.”

Marko leapt down to the floor beside Dwayne. “Dude that’s crazy,” he scratched his head in confusion. “How could someone…I mean how did they…” he sighed.

“I don’t know,” Dwayne’s hands balled into fists. “But I’m gonna find out.”

You zipped around the boardwalk, snagging pins from jackets, buttons from bags, and dangly earring from ears, leaving a glamor in their place so as not to alert the owner to your thieving. You filled your arms with any shiny object you could get your hands on.

Humans were simple, you thought to yourself as you weaved in and out of the massive crowd of people, so easily charmed and tricked.

You paused to watch the sight of them bumbling around the boardwalk, unaware of your presence and the mischief you were causing. You laughed to yourself.

While you were largely indifferent to humans, there were a few you liked more than others.

Like this one. You cloaked yourself with invisibility, allowing your catlike smile to disappear into the sea air.

You tailed the dark haired man, his beauty beckoning like a candle in the dark.

You toyed with his hair, taking a strand between your fingers and pulling lightly. You stilled when his head turned just slightly. Could he see you?

He shrugged and returned to joking around with his friends, probably blaming your ministrations on the wind.

You smirked. He was just some silly human…some silly, pretty human man.

You picked at the charms on his necklace. You’d been visiting him every now and again, taking piece after piece and building a necklace of your own.

You wanted to remember this human when you eventually flitted out of town. They didn’t usually come this cute.

You reached out to pull at the necklace, but before you could, his hand sealed around your wrist.

You gasped, your invisibility fading, causing you to materialize in front of the four men.

You were so shocked, you couldn’t contain the glamor keeping you in human form. Translucent wings, soft and thin as silk, sprouted from your shoulder blades.

The blonde men’s eyes filled with awe as they took in the sight of you, but the dark haired man only scowled.

Your first impulse was to compress to your true form and fly away, but the man growled under his breath, his fangs poking out of his mouth. “Don’t even try it,” he warned.

Your jaw dropped, “you’re- you’re not human,” you stuttered.

The bleach blond man chuckled, “not quite sprite.”

Your nose scrunched in annoyance, “I’m a fairy,” you corrected.

He smirked at you and the dark haired man, “you’re all the same to me.”

You scowled.

The bleach blond man grabbed the two other men by their collars. “We’ll see you back at the cave Dwayne,” his eyes narrowed on you, “seems you’ve got some business to deal with before you head home.”

Your eyes widened in fear. You turned towards Dwayne. “You wouldn’t want my blood, it’s poisonous for vampires,” you lied.

He yanked you into an alleyway nearby and pushed you up against a cold stone wall. “You’re a liar little thief,” he purred.

You squeaked.

“Why did you steal from me?” He demanded.

You gaped like a fish, your eyes taking in his beautiful face. You could lose yourself in those big brown eyes.

You longed to touch his chiseled jaw and feel his stubble beneath your fingers.

You blushed.

He pushed you harder into the stone. “Tell me.”

“Stop! My wings,” you whimpered, the pressure threatening to crack them.

Dwayne’s firm expression never wavered, but he did loosen his grip. “Spit it out,” he demanded.

“I- I liked you,” you confessed. “I just wanted something of yours to keep with me.”

His brow furrowed and he let you down. “What?” he asked.

Your face turned bright red. “Fae we um…we like small little trinket things,” you gestured to his necklace.

“But we like pretty things too,” you shifted on your feet nervously, you felt caught in two different ways.

Dwayne cocked his head. You waited nervously for his reaction.

His lip pulled up into a smirk. “You think I’m pretty?” he teased.

You huffed, your already red face going full tomato. “You don’t have to make a big deal about it,” you pouted.

“Don’t be shy,” he purred, “I think you’re pretty too.”

He ran the back of his hand along your wings gently. “You’re such a delicate little thing, arentcha baby?”

You giggled, your wings twitching with excitement. “Vampires are so interesting,” you leaned in to stroke his chest lightly, “I’ve heard all about your sharp teeth, but no one’s ever told me about your silver tongues.”

His smile was all fang.

You flashed him a pouty look with big puppy dog eyes, “do you forgive me?” you asked, “for taking your things.”

He raised an eyebrow, holding out his hand to you, “why don’t you give them back first.”

You pouted, but reluctantly handed over the charms from his necklace.

“How bout I make you your own baby?” he offered. “Come back to the cave with me, I’ll make you anything you want.”

You beamed, nodding and shrinking down to your true fairy form. You landed, sitting down in the palm of his outstretched hand.

His other hand came around to stroke your cheek with one finger. “You’re adorable like this,” he whispered, “so precious.” He held you reverently.

You blushed, smiling up at him with admiration. You wouldn’t be leaving Santa Carla anytime soon.

TLB Taglist❤️:

@6lostgirl6 @misslavenderlady @crustyboypix @anna1306 @bloodywickedvamp @sad-ghost-of-garbage @hypocriticaltypwriter @lostboys1987girl @solobagginses @gothamslostboy @arbesa-mind @dwaynesluscioushair @dwaynedelight @chiefdirector @its-freaking-bats @kurt-nightcrawler @arenpath @ria-coolgirl @vampirefilmlover @vxarak @mickkmaiden333 @bitchyexpertprincess @f4iryfxies @katerinaval @softchonk @walmart-cereal @warrior-616 @rynsfandomsfun @fraudfrog @mack-attack420

[idkwhatimdoinghere1655]

Apples and Pumpkins - Lando Norris

<word count - 3106>

warnings - not proof read

Lando loved Halloween for a few different reasons. He found it fun, he loved dressing up with you, and he missed out on it a lot when he was a kid due to karting, so he was glad that he got to experience it with you. 

"Lando, I'm sure it's really not that bad!" You called into your bedroom, since all you could hear was Lando complaining about his costume. Every year, you both dressed up in matching costumes, but he wasn't sounding overly zealous about what he was this year. 

You had suggested many ideas to him, but he wasn't feeling some of your favourites. You wanted to go as Fred and Daphne from Scooby Doo, but he didn't want to wear the wig, that also discounted Traditional Barbie and Beach Ken. 

You also liked the sound of going as a Disney Princess, and he could be your prince, but he said it was 'too basic'. In the end, you had settled on Mario and Peach, since you got to be a princess and Lando just had to stick a fake moustache on with dungarees.

"But you look good, I look shit!" he shouted back, but you still hadn't seen what he looked like. "Please just come out," you said, crossing your arms and leaning against the wall. You had been stood there for a while, and he refused to come out. 

"Please," you asked again, and you heard some shuffling coming from the other side of the room. You saw Lando, trudging over to you with a pout on his face. You had to choke back a laugh as you took in the outfit. 

The Mario costume he had bought off the internet clearly didn't fit him as the fabric hung off his figure, and his hat pretty much covered his eyes. The moustache was the only thing that seemed to be working, until half of it fell off and it was dangling against his top lip.  

"Please don't laugh..." he mumbled as you held a hand over your mouth to shield the amused smile that was forming on your lips. "It's really not that bad," you muttered, your voice slightly breaking in a chuckle.

"Look me in the eyes and tell me it's not that bad," he said, his eyes meeting yours. You took a deep breath, trying to muster all of the composure you could before speaking. "It's not that-" you started, when his moustache fully fell off and fluttered to the floor.

You lost all sense of equanimity, a high-pitched giggle escaping your lips as Lando sighed. "Right, I'll go put on a suit, you go and get one of your nice dresses on and I know you have a tiara lying around somewhere, and we'll go as a prince and princess," he huffed.

"No, baby, no, c'mere," you softly smiled, taking his hand and leading him to the bathroom. You had picked his moustache up on the way, and were now rummaging through your make-up bag. Applying some of the lash glue to his moustache, you stuck it to him and were sure it would stay there until you had to find a way to get it off later. 

"Problem one, solved," you told him, before getting started on the next task. You pulled a small box of safety pins out of the bag, and pulled together some of the fabric of the straps on his dungarees to pull them up a bit. 

It already made his costume look miles better, and you could tell that Lando thought so too. "Better?" you asked, hoping it would bring him some form of contention. 

"Yeah, loads," you nodded, a small grin forming across his face as he looked at himself in the mirror. "Thank you, baby," he said, pulling you close to him and kissing you gently on the forehead. "No problem, you ready to go?" you smiled. 

"Yeah," he nodded, taking your hand and walking out onto the streets. There were loads of people out, mainly kids with their parents going trick-or-treating. Lando and you were off to Max Fewtrell's for some Halloween games. 

There was never any decent prizes, but you always had fun when you played. You were there within ten minutes, just waltzing into his apartment like you always did. "Max? Get your ass out here!" Lando shouted. 

"I'm here-" he started, but his face dropped when he saw yours and Lando's costumes. Max was basically wearing the same thing as Lando, but in green. It was slightly ironic, since they were like brothers, but they both looked far from impressed.

"You just had to copy me, didn't you Lando?" Max rolled his eyes as he crossed his arms, looking at his curly haired friend. "We have been planning this for weeks! I bet you only figured yours out yesterday," Lando pouted.

"I did not!" Max countered, looking genuinely offended, but you could see that there was a hint of levity in his voice. "You two, it's fine. Now we're all matching," you laughed as both of their heads snapped towards you. "But baby, we look great. Max looks average at best," Lando whined. 

"Get over it, we are matching now, and there is nothing we can do," you said, flicking him on the nose as he let out a pained shriek. "Hey, that hurt," he moped, rubbing his nose. 

"You're too cute sometimes," you smiled, before turning back to Max. "What Halloween festivity do we have first, Max?" You asked, trying to divert attention away from the costume copy. 

"First-up, we have apple bobbing. On each of the apples, I have carved a number. Whoever gets the highest number at the end, wins," he gleefully clapped, leading you through the apartment. Max quickly forgot about the short-lived costume controversy, but you could still hear Lando huffing behind you. 

You walked into the bathroom, and he had filled the bathtub up and the surface of the cold water was covered in red apples. "OK, who's going first?" you excitedly asked, ready to start the fun. "We can rock paper scissors for it?" Lando piped up, a smile cracking onto his face. 

"Lando, rock, paper, scissors!" Max said, throwing his hand into a fist in front of Lando. In turn, Lando set his hand out flat,  in front of Max, before covering the fist. "OK, Y/N, rock, paper, scissors!" Lando smirked, adoring that he had defeated Max. 

Sure, it was a small, meaningless competition, but it was a competition nonetheless. You thought you'd go for the same move, but Lando had somehow outsmarted you, winning with a pair of scissors. "I'm a gentleman, so I'll say ladies first," he sincerely smiled at you. 

Without hesitation, you sunk down to your knees in front of the bathtub, tying your blonde wig behind your head to keep it from getting wet, and setting your tiara aside. "Now that is a sight I love to see," you heard Lando mutter. 

Slowly, you picked up an apple out of the bath, before suddenly hurling it at him, water droplets spraying around the room. It hit him in the chest with a wet thud, so not exactly where you were aiming. "Hey! What was that for?" he whined, rubbing the damp patch on his chest. 

"I heard that comment of yours, Norris," you scowled, turning back to the tub. 

"Oh you're in trouble, Norris," Max sniggered, nudging Lando in the ribs with his elbow. 

"You too, Fewtrell," you laughed, before submerging your face into the water. The cold of the liquid on your face made you want to open your mouth and take a breath, but you quickly realised that would end in disaster. 

You took some time, before your teeth sunk into the flesh of one of the apples. You pulled your face out, opening your eyes to see Lando filming the ordeal. "Really?" you sighed, taking the apple out of your mouth. 

"It's just for me," he smirked, shooting you a sly wink. You rolled your eyes at him, turning the apple over. You couldn't help but frown, as you saw a number two scratched into the bottom. "Well that's disappointing," you said, standing and showing them the apple. 

Lando went next, pulling out a four, so not much better. As if by magic, Max came out with a perfect ten. You and Lando exchange a dubious glance, automatically thinking something fishy was up. Before your next turn, Lando dipped his hand into the water and swished it around. 

The apples bumped against each other and the sides as they floated around in the waves he was creating, and you watched Max's eyes slightly widen. You smirked, dipping your head back into the water. The coolness was still a slight shock, but you found your next apple a lot easier this time. 

Your teeth sunk into it with a satisfying crunch as bubbles floated to the top of the water. "And that is a perfect ten," you laughed as you turned the apple over. Max plastered a smile onto his face, but you could tell it was false. 

Lando went, producing an eight this time. It wasn't enough to win, but it was still good. Max wasn't looking too zealous anymore, but both you and Lando knew that. As Max bent over to retrieve his final apple, Lando spread his hand across the back of his head and dunked him all the way in. 

When he came back up for a panicked gasp of air, Max was staring daggers at Lando. "Are you trying to drown me?" he asked, picking up another apple and throwing it at him. 

"What is it with you two and throwing wet apples at me?" he joked, swiping the apple up off the floor and reading the number as one. "Cheaters don't win, Max. But you already knew that," you teased, as Max's cheeks flushed red. "I don't know what you're talking about," he stuttered.

"I just thought you looked a bit... Surprised when we mixed the apples up," Lando added, cocking an eyebrow at his friend. "Like I said, I don't know what you're talking about," he giggled, scampering out of the bathroom. 

"Next up, we have pumpkin carving!" he collared, quickly skirting around the topic of him cheating. He didn't win anyway, so it wasn't really a huge deal. You thought it was funny that he tried it on with the two of you, though. 

The dining room table was decorated with some faux-autumn leaves, some little tea light candles, and three huge pumpkins. There were also a few, smaller pumpkins dotted around for the extra autumnal feel.  "Y/N, since you won-" 

"Barely," Lando interjected, and you whacked him playfully in the shoulder.

"You get five minutes extra, and we have 15 minutes each. First though, we can draw on our designs before we have to start slicing chunks out of our pumpkins," Max wiggled his arm towards the three pumpkins on the table, and you selected the one in the middle so that no fights would break out. 

"Max, I want to know what you're doing beforehand, just so you don't copy me again," Lando teased, sitting down to your left as Max sat down to your right. "Oh you'll know what it is as soon as you see it," Max smirked, taking the lid off his pen with a click. 

"And so will you," Lando smugly retorted, setting off to work on his pumpkin. You also set to work on your pumpkin, but you were taking more care with yours than the other two were. You had drawn on your face, and the other two were still furiously scribbling on theirs. 

You had made it easy enough to carve, but also complex enough that it would look impressive once the lights were inside. "Y/N, you now have 20 minutes to gut and carve your pumpkin, off you go," Max announced as you got stuck in.

You pulled the top off, sinking your hand in and scooping out handfuls of the seeds and flesh that was in the pumpkin. It felt like slime as you flicked it into the bowl, and it left your hands cold and slippery. But, you didn't have time to waste. 

Just as you picked up your knife, Max and Lando were able to start on their pumpkins. You tried to ignore their bickering as they hurled empty insults at each other over your head. You were too busy concentrating on making your pumpkin look perfect.

The boys started aggressively shivving at the tough, orange flesh of their canvas. Lando had his tongue stuck out of the side of his mouth as his mind was fully centered on making his masterpiece perfect. 

Disappearing into the kitchen, you reappearing with two barbeque skewers in your hands. Lando and Max skeptically looked at you, wondering what on earth you could possibly need those for. "There's a method to my madness," you smiled, sticking one into either side of the pumpkin on the diagonal.

"Can I use these?" You asked, selecting two of the similarly sized smaller pumpkins that you thought would fit what you were wanting. "Sure," Max nodded, quickly focussing back onto the strenuous and arborous task of pumpkin carving. 

 You stuck the pumpkins onto the skewers, and you stood back and admired your work. But, you noticed the lack of a dancing orange flame illuminating the face of an icon of childhoods for the past century. 

Glancing over at the clock, you saw there was only a minute left, and Max and Lando were frantically scrambling to try and get theirs finished. The timer shrilly buzzed, and they both practically threw their knives down on the table. 

Slumping down in their seats, they were glad for it to be over. Max side-eyed your pumpkin and audibly signed. "You know what? Y/N, you can't win this round. You've got to pick between ours," he huffed.

"Fine," you rolled your eyes, realising that you would have clearly won. The other two just had random holes butchered into it.  "Max, yours is clearly a depiction of..." you hummed, trying to decipher what the random circles and box were. 

He pointed to a small carving that he had made on the image. "Is it Lando?" you asked, after seeing the LN4 that he had clearly scribbled on in the last seconds in a poor attempt to make it recognizable. "I think I automatically win because you could tell what mine was," Max triumphantly smirked.

"Absolutely not, if you see mine I will win," Lando pouted, pushing his pumpkin in your direction. "OK, OK, I will look at yours, Lando," you agreed, your eyes scanning over the image - well, what was supposed to be an image. 

"I, uhm, I-" you fumbled, trying to think of what Lando might have drawn versus what you were seeing in front of you. "Baby, c'mon," he whined, brandishing his hand towards it harder as if it would instantly make you discern what it is. 

"OK, look," he said, picking the pumpkin up and holding it next to Max's head in a final attempt to make his image known. "Is it Max?" you sighed, realising what he was going for. But, it was very far off the real thing. "Yeah," he nodded, a smug smile on his face. 

"I'm sorry babe, but Max's is a bit more... Realistic, true to life," you said, looking at Lando as his face dropped.  "Yes!" Max cheered, running over to the couch and hopping onto the comfiest spot. "Lando, since you lost, you have to get drinks and snacks for the night," Max collared like a child. 

"It's only fair," you shrugged, leaving Lando stood with his pumpkin in the middle of the kitchen floor. The three of you watched a couple of movies, while also receiving a noise complaint due to the loudness of your screams.

You thanked Max for another fun Halloween, and promised to do it at yours next year so that he wouldn't have to clean up by himself. As soon as you stepped foot outside, Lando grabbed you and slung you over his shoulder as he carried on walking.

"It's time for the princess to go back to her tower, since Mario has realised that she is disloyal and can't even let him win the pumpkin carving competition," Lando laughed, as you tried to wriggle out of his grasp. 

"Ah, I'd be careful, you might fall," he tutted, tightening his grip on you as you felt like a sack of potatoes while he carried you. You didn't bother protesting, knowing he would definitely backchat you back. At least you didn't have to walk.

"Now how about we make Halloween a little more spooky?" He smirked, putting you down on your feet as he stood you against the wall. He leant into kiss you as he pinned your body with his, but you couldn't help but giggle. "I'm sorry, I can't take you seriously when you have that moustache on and that costume," you laughed, the sounds echoing around the now empty streets.

"Please just let me kiss you? Then we can go home, and I can take the moustache off and you won't find me funny anymore," he pleaded. You didn't say anything, in fear of laughing at him again. You leant in to give him what he wanted so that you could get rid of that goddamn moustache, but then you heard something.

"You OK?" Lando asked when your eyes averted to the other side of the street.

"Yeah, yeah," you nodded, sure you were just hearing things. It had sounded like footsteps, but nobody was there. Nobody was anywhere around you. You leant in again, but then there it was again. "Did you hear that?" Lando asked, instantly becoming  sheepish. 

"That's what I heard earlier," you said, and his face turned even more panicked. He took your hand and started to quickly walk down the street to your apartment. "Lando, it's nothing," you dismissed, eyes darting around the dark street. 

"We don't know that!" he said, walking quicker to the point he was nearly running. "It's Halloween, that's when the spirits come out," he rambled, and you couldn't help but laugh. "It's true!" he protested. 

"Fine, fine," you giggled behind him. Lando had never been superstitious, but you found it funny to see him so frazzled. Even if there were spirits out to get you, they were doing you a favour. You were on your way home, and you were going to get that god-awful moustache off of Lando, so you were the one winning, despite how spooked Lando was. It was spooky season, afterall. 

A/N - I got this finished for today, but that doesn't mean it's any good. The Charles Special is the first thing on my to do list next time I get free time, and I am working through requests as often as I can. Sorry for all the lateness on everything, I will make it my mission to make the Christmas ones actually come out on Christmas. Same with Lando's birthday post, but that's less likely. Love you lots! 💖

|masterlist|

[rowanxaubri]

[sunnebeam]

flashback: when you first met.

A 'PERKS OF BEING A HOUSEHUSBAND' EXTRA.

pairing: min yoongi x reader

plot: the (mis)adventures of retired gangster min yoongi as he leaves behind the life of the mafia and navigates the way of the househusband.

warnings: the way of the househusband au, marriage au, crack, domesticity, blood

masterlist + disclaimers.

note: in case u didn't know, i'm still currently on my aug-oct vacation (see details in pinned post!) and this post was scheduled in advance :> anyways this flashback is really short (mostly bc i was running out of time when writing it) but i hope u still enjoy it. as always, leave ur thoughts <3

You're walking home, having just got off the bus.

There's a spring in your step, mainly because you just had a job interview a few hours earlier and you think you got it in the bag. You're thinking about dropping by the convenience store for some celebratory food when you hear a strangled noise from the nearby alley.

Against your better judgment, you follow the noise, only to find a bloodied, battered man, with a scar across his right eye, slumping against the wall. His shirt is torn and his tattoos peek out from the fabric, but what was once a white shirt is now stained with red from his wounds.

"Oh my god," you exclaim, your hands coming out to cover your opened mouth.

"Go away," the man grunts.

"Sir, you need to get to the hospital," you tell him, walking closer. "You're injured—"

He scoffs. "You should've seen the other guys."

You ignore his comment and move to sling his arm around your neck.

"What are you doing, woman?" he growls, resisting when you try to lift him up. "I told you to go away."

"And I told you, you need to go to the hospital," you scold him, finally managing to get him to his feet.

He tries resisting again but you poke his wounded side. It does the trick and he groans in pain, having no choice but to follow you because he can't do anything else.

The walk proves to be a struggle, but in the end, you manage to get him to your apartment after he argued with you and insisted he can't show his face in a hospital.

("The hospital's on enemy turf. I can't go there.")

The pain must be too much for him because he passes out as soon as he reaches your couch and he pretty much stays asleep while you treat his wounds as best as you can.

You leave a glass of water and some painkillers on the coffee table near your couch for when he wakes up, before you move to your bedroom to the do your night routine and finally get some sleep.

By the next morning, he's gone.

He's a strange man, you realize. Always talking in cryptic words, strange tones, and poetic sentences. But you naturally start to forget about him as the days go on.

Until one day.

You arrive at work, having been accepted at the corporate job you had an interview with, to find a gigantic arrangement of flowers on your desk. There's no card, so you chalk it up to a random admirer, and go about your day.

But it doesn't stop with the flowers.

Throughout the rest of the week, you receive an assortment of gifts. From expensive chocolates, designer clothes, and even an engraved kitchen knife.

And what surprises you is that the kitchen knife, of all things, provides the most answers because there's a card. It doesn't contain a message but there is a single name written.

Yoongi.

You blink.

Who the fuck is Yoongi?!

COPYRIGHT 2023. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.

[notakoala]

Suggestive content in the short story

Title photos are made specifically by me. Please comment below if you would like to use my photos for your page.

Honestly anything is a challenge in your relationship with Katsuki Bakugou. ANYTHING.

At the gym and your burning more calories than him on the treadmill? He'll burn a hundred more than you just to prove he's better.

You manage to pin him down during training? Get ready to be demolished by this train because turns out he 'wasn't using all his strength'.

He gets a high mark in one of his classes? Your studying for hours on end to get a higher mark than him in the next exam.

You've cleaned up more than him? Where did the small specks of dust go? Katsuki Bakugou finished it all. In more time than you, but you don't know that

Going for a morning run? Your both sprinting by the time your back on campus, trying to gain composure after God knows how long you were running for.

Seeing who chickens out first when your at a graveyard by yourself and you run off? Yeah, he'll mention it constantly and laugh about it.

Who's saved more people on a mission? The other gets more somehow.

Katsuki LOVES the competitive side you both have in the relationship. However he does push your buttons even when your mad with him. Or if your mad about something else.

Your currently mad at Katsuki because of recent events where you both said some... Not very nice things to eachother. It ends up leading you back to your room and slamming the door behind you. Thank GOD your on separate floors or he might have gotten up you for slamming the door.

Grabbing your pillow you threw it at the small couch in your dorm. The lights in your light were dim, which made anything on the floor dissapear. Hopefully you don't have homework on the floor, bye-bye to that.

It was a silly argument over you walking to the dorms alone when he was taking forever to get his bag and change his shoes. You told him you were leaving and he grunted back in response. Apparently he didn't hear you and had to talk to 'shitty hair' the whole time who then ended up dragging him to the gym.

You wouldn't have minded about it if it wasn't your freaking birthday. You planned to go out to dinner with him and his parents and then maybe go ice skating afterwards. But when he never showed up you messaged him asking where he was, when he responded back dryly 'Gym'. You lost it at him.

First he had a pissy attitude all day. Then without even messaging he goes off to the gym?

An exasperated sigh comes from deep in your throat, pulling your shirt off and putting on the red sweatshirt he gave you maybe a couple of moths after you officially got together. You were still pissed off but it was warm. And your were cold.

Flopping onto your bed with a thump you checked your pocket for your phone, the unfamiliar feeling of emptiness in your back pocket made you realise what happened.

Your phone was up in Katsuki's room.

Fuck.

A barrage of knocking came from Katsuki's door. He grunted and answered the door with a loud and grouchy voice.

"Knocking twice does the trick you don't have to do it– Oh. Back so soon?" His brows knotted together and he crosses his arms, wearing a singlet and some shorts. A shit eating grin on his face.

You also crossed your arms and pushed right past him, trying to look for your phone and retracing your steps of the argument.

"Where is it."

"Where's what?"

"You know damn well what I'm looking for."

"Not a clue." He still has his arms crossed over his chest, the door was shut behind him but he leaned on the wall. Watching you and where you go in his room. With his stupid grin on his face still.

You turn around still annoyed and stomp your way over to him, glaring up at him before reaching inside his pockets. "My phone Katsuki, give it."

He wraps his arms tightly around you, putting his head on top of yours and chuckling when you fidget in his arms.

You groan loudly and try to escape his bear hug but your both stumbling towards his bed and your getting more and more annoyed with him.

"Katsuki!"

He hums and lands on top of you when your fall back onto his bed, surprisingly softer than usual.

"Who's Katsuki?"

A while back you started only calling him babe if you needed something or was just talking to him in general, a way to get his attention. During your argument you still called him babe but in a harsh tone. When you start calling him Katsuki with an annoyed tone, yeah he'll switch that up real quick.

"Your squashing me."

"Mhm."

"Is that all your going to say." You respond grumpily, trying to shove at him as he buries his head in the crook of your neck, breathing deeply.

"Hm."

Shoving repeatedly did nothing but drain you out and you both lay there still for a minute before his hands grab your sides.

"Off." You respond harshly but he squeezes your sides until your squirming and trying to contain your laughter.

He still has his shit eating grin on, you can feel it against your neck. "Who's Katsuki?" He murmurs against your neck as your trying to squirm free from him.

You don't respond for a few seconds before your giggling uncontrollably, shoving at his hands and trying to get his hands off your sides.

"Babe!" You finally say between laughing and trying to hold your angry composure but it doesn't work and he finally stops, looking up at you.

"Mhm, baby?"

"Give me my phone."

Breathing quickly and regaining your composure you look down at his grin. He's got a look on his face like your forgetting something, and guess what. He's right.

You groan underneath him. "Fuck's sake... Please."

Still shoving at his broad and thick shoulders, your feel him fumble around while he is above your body. Even with the opportunity to flip him over and 'beat' him, you don't. You do want your phone back and that wouldn't help at all.

He showed your phone to your face, and you immediately grabbed for it, but he moved it out of your reach.

"Katsuki."

Your voice was stern and he grinned again, leaning down to peck your lips, which made your cheeks feel hot but it was normal. The familiar feeling of a lightweight object was on your chest.

"Better, whiny?" He said with a chuckle. His Irises connected with your mean expression.

"Don't call me that Katsuki."

"Don't be whiny."

"You forgot it was my birthday, I feel like that's pretty fair." You spoke harshly, flicking your phone open and looking at a message.

"I didn't forget, just didn't wanna hang out with the old hags."

"Yeah cause it's all about Mr Katsuki Bakugou." Evident sarcasm came from your throat.

"Was thinking about that for tonight, special occasion." He leaned down and smooched your neck slowly, passionately. Arms running along yours as you grumbled.

You turned your head away from him. "Not in the mood unless I'm on top."

"Have it your way, it's your birthday."

Not proofread probably gonna make a second part if wanted

[bloody-peach]

Snake Eyes (Helluva Boss: Striker x F!Reader smut fic)

(gif edit by me)

~~~♡♡♡~~~

Now Playing: E.V.O.L. by Marina and the Diamonds, FutureSex / LoveSounds by Justin Timberlake [headphones recommended]

Goodie Bag: flirting, rough sex, vaginal sex, anal sex, oral sex (m receiving), deepthroating, masturbation (f), cursing, dirty talk, striptease, vaginal fingering, creampie [let me know if I missed anything].

A/N: Who doesn't wanna fuck Striker? Like, come on. When he pinned Blitzø to the wall in his debut episode, I wanted to be in Blitzø's place so bad. So I decided to make a fic. It's pretty short, but it's still good, trust me. Enjoy!!

Taglist: @omniuravity @pinkhimecat @moths-and-mantids @neonvehk @fatgumsurpremacy-remastered and all Striker simps!

~~~♡♡♡~~~

Your life wasn’t the best at the moment. Your bitter ex put a bounty on your head for no reason, and this forced you to be on the run. You were currently in the Wrath ring, trying to outrun this bounty hunter that’s been on your ass for a while. It wasn’t fair that he was riding on a horse, but you were able to keep a good distance from him. Unfortunately, you didn’t know that he had a lasso on him. You gagged when the lasso wrapped around your neck tight, pulling you back and knocking you onto your ass. You tried to pull the rope off of you, but it was on tight. During your struggle, he walked up to you, looking down with a smirk on his face. His tail flicked in a flourish, making the same sound as a rattlesnake’s tail. “Gotta admit, you can run pretty fast. But not fast enough.” a rough male voice said. “I haven’t lost a catch in my entire life, and I ain’t starting today.” He pulled the lasso up and got you on your knees. You had a good look at him and recognized him immediately. This was Striker, the ruthless bounty hunter who hunted down and almost killed Prince Stolas. You were aware of his track record of bounty hunting, and you knew you were just another paycheck. ‘Fuck, he’s hot,’ you thought to yourself.

He eyed you up and down and said, “Hey, you’re a cute one. Not a bad body on you, either. Maybe I’ll have some fun with ya before I turn ya in.” You weren’t sure how, but this man just flipped your switch and you decided to flirt with him. When he loosened the lasso so you could speak, you smirked and looked at him with flirtatious eyes, saying, “Oh? Have I caught the eye of the famous bounty hunter, Striker?” Striker’s eyes narrowed, momentarily taken aback by your smirk. His grin remained plastered on his face, however, as he leaned in further, his breath brushing your cheek. “Famous, eh?” He repeated, drawing out the word. “Maybe I am, maybe I ain’t,” he chuckled softly, running a hand through his snowy hair. “But there ain’t no doubt that I’m the best around these parts.” He paused, looking you up and down with a predatory gleam in his golden eyes. “And now that I got ya, well...you got a few options.”

“Option one, sweetheart,” He began, gesturing to the lasso around your neck. “We could keep things simple and quick. I turn you in, you’re executed, and I pocket that hefty bounty on your cute little head. Easy peasy lemon squeezy, right?” He winked, a mischievous smile tugging on his lips. “Or option two, we have ourselves a bit of fun, see how much you enjoy it..or how much I do. And then I decide whether you’re worth keeping around or not. Sound good?” You liked where this was going, so you smile and say, “Personally, I like option two better, wouldn’t you agree? Maybe if we hit it off, we can fake my death and split the bounty. I got quite a bounty on me, so if we split it, we’d be richer than even those Goetias.” Striker’s eyes widened as he smiled, clearly surprised at your words. “Ya reckon? Now there’s an idea,” he said, running a finger along your jawline. “Well, alright. Let’s give ol’ option two a go, see how it feels. But understand something, sweetheart, if I feel like you’re lyin’, tryin’ to trick me, I ain’t above changin’ my mind and sendin’ you straight to yer maker.” As he helped you stand up, Striker adjusted his hat and walked closer to you, looming over you. “Now, don’t think you can run off, darlin. That ain’t an option.” He smirked, his voice low and seductive. “I’m in control here, always. Otherwise, we ain’t got no game here.” You were getting turned on so much the more this went, so you smiled and said, “Well, that’s good, because it wouldn’t be any fun if I was the one in control.” A sinister grin spread across Striker’s face, his eyes flickering with excitement. “That’s more like it,” he growled, grabbing your arm and throwing you onto his horse. Once he got on, he made you wrap your arms around his waist, saying, “Hold on tight now.” With that, you two were off.

It was sunset when he stopped at a hotel and got you two a room. Once he brought you in the room, he pinned you to a wall and gazed down your body, lingering on your chest, before locking back on your eyes. “I bet you taste real sweet, don’t cha?” He murmured, his finger tracing a slow circle on your throat. “Between those legs of yours, you prolly taste like heaven.” He grabbed you and pulled you close to him, his body pressing against yours, the hard lines of muscle evident beneath his clothes. You blushed, but felt so turned on as you said, “Well..only one way to find out.” Striker grinned, his grip tightening on your waist as he pressed his groin against yours. “Oh, I’m gonna,” he growled, his hand sliding down your body and undoing your pants. “Real soon, darlin’. Real soon.” He leaned in, his mouth brushing against your ear as he whispered, “But first, I wanna watch you squirm, feel your body shake with pleasure before I taste every inch of ya.” He broke away, stepping back and fixing his coat. “Strip for me,” He said, his voice deep and commanding. “Slow and sexy, darlin’. Don’t forget, I’m in control here.” He lit a fresh cigar, puffing on it as he watched you undress, his eyes never leaving your body.

You nodded and you started to strip nice and slowly, giving him a bit of a show with a little strip tease. Striker’s eyes widened, his nostrils flaring as he took in the sight before him. Your slow, erotic dance had rendered him speechless, but not for long. He swallowed hard, his fingers drumming on his belt. Soon, you were completely nude, your arousal evident as he noticed your juices dripping down your thigh. “Damn, girl,” He muttered, his voice shaky. “Look at ya, drippin’ an’ ready for me.” He slowly approached, putting his cigar out and throwing it out as he reached for you. He wrapped an arm around you, his hand groping your ass as his other hand brushed against your wet flesh, a low chuckle escaping him. “So fuckin’ beautiful,” he praised, his hand running along the curve of your hips. You let out a series of moans as he started to rub your pussy, his fingers skillfully playing with your folds and clit. Striker couldn’t help but chuckle as he felt how wet and responsive your pussy was beneath his fingers. “Just wait til I’m inside of ya,” he breathed into your ear, his words coming out heavy. “Ain’t nothin’ like havin’ you clench around me, feeling every throb and twitch.” He slid one finger inside you, feeling your walls contract around him. “Fuck, you’re tight.” He pushed in another finger, his cock straining painfully within his pants. “I’m gon’ fuck you so hard, baby. Make you scream my name when I reach that sweet spot.” His hand started moving faster, thrusting in and out of you, rubbing your clit with his thumb. “Feel that, darlin’? Imagine it bein’ me -- my cock poundin’ into ya, fillin’ you up.” Just the thought of his cock stretching your pussy out made you even wetter and made you moan more as he continued fingering you. “Fuck, baby,” Striker swore, his arousal threatening to burst through his jeans. “You ain’t no liar, are ya?” He chuckled darkly. “Your pussy’s so damn greedy for me, already wanting more.” He took his fingers out, watching as they glistened with your essence. You watched as he licked his fingers clean, a sinister look in his eyes when he looked at you, saying, “I was right. Your pussy do taste like heaven.” He cupped your chin, forcing you to look at him. “Tell me, darlin’, do ya wanna feel me inside of you? Then get on your knees and beg for it.” He demanded, his voice thick with lust. “If I’m gonna take ya, you best beg for it properly.”

You nodded and got on your knees, looking up at him and putting on your best puppy-dog eyes as you said, “Please, Daddy..I want your hard cock..give it to me..I need it so badly..please fuck me...I’ll do anything you want..” Striker’s eyes darkened with hunger, his heart pounding in his chest. “That’s my girl,” he praised, reaching for his belt buckle. Unbuckling it, he let his jeans drop, revealing his thick erection standing tall and proud. He smirked, holding his cock and aiming it at your mouth. “Anything I want, huh?” He mused, running a hand through his hair. “Well, since ya asked so nicely, I’ll start easy. Take my cock in yer mouth and suck it like a good girl,” he commanded, his eyes never leaving your face. “Prove how much ya want it.”

You nodded and gently grabbed his cock, stroking it and licking up the shaft. You then kissed the tip of his cock and slid his cock into your mouth, sucking on it as you moaned. Striker hissed, his hand fisting in your hair as you took him into your mouth. “Goddamn, that’s good,” he groaned, his hips jerking involuntarily. “You got some skills with that tongue, that’s for sure.” He tugged your hair, guiding your movements. “Swallow me down, deep throat me,” he grunted, his pace picking up. “Make me feel that warm, wet throat around my dick.” His breathing grew ragged, his hips bucking hard. “Don’t stop, keep going. Show me how much ya need this cock.” You did as he said and took more of his cock in your mouth, feeling it go down your throat and slightly gagging until you were able to relax your throat, making things much easier. Soon, you were able to deepthroat him to the point of your lips touching his hilt. Striker’s eyes rolled back as he tilted his head back, his fingers digging into your scalp. “Fuck, yeah..” he moaned. “Take it all, darlin’, show me how much you love it.” His thrusts became more aggressive, his body trembling. “Keep goin’, make me lose myself in your mouth.” You sucked even more, making sure your tongue massaged his shaft. You reached towards your pussy and you started to touch yourself as you sucked him off, clearly turned on from the experience as your juices dripped onto the hardwood floor. Striker’s eyes narrowed, his breaths coming out harsh and uneven. “You’re gonna make me cum like this, aren’t ya?” He growled, his grip tightening on your hair. “I fucking love a woman who knows what she wants.” He pulled out, his cock glistening with saliva. “But I’m in control here, remember? So, enough of that,” He said hoarsely, grabbing your arm and throwing you onto the bed, soon pushing you down and hovering over you. “Time to get that pretty pussy stretched wide.”

He put his hands on your hips, his eyes locked on your dripping pussy. “Spread your legs wider for me, baby,” he said, his voice low and dangerous. “Cause I’mma ride ya so hard, mark my words..” You spread your legs wider, your pussy twitching with anticipation. Striker grinned, his eyes gleaming with danger. “Perfect,” he murmured, positioning himself between your legs. “Now, tell me if you want me to be gentle or rough.” He teased, his tip brushing against your entrance. “Your choice, darlin’.” His eyes bore into yours, waiting patiently for your decision. “Remember, you asked for this. Now choose wisely.” You smirked and wrapped your arms around his neck, saying, “That depends, sexy. How do you want it? You’re the one in charge here. I’m just here to take it like a good girl.” Striker’s grin widened, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “Damn right you are, darlin’. I’m in control.” He growled, thrusting into you forcefully. “But don’t worry, I’ll give ya a taste of both.” He began with a steady rhythm, his hips grinding against yours. “Like that, huh?” He sighed, his voice tinted with satisfaction. “Worried you wouldn’t be able to handle me, but look at ya takin’ it like a champ.” As he pistoned in and out of you, his pace increased. You were tight, so fucking tight around him. You just lost it as his size stretched you out so good, moaning as he kept thrusting, “Ohhh fuck..yeah..!” Striker’s eyes heated up, his thrusting becoming even wilder. “You love it, eh?” He snarled, gripping your hips tightly. “Takes a real man to stretch ya out like this, don’t it?” He leaned down, whispering in your ear. “But I ain’t done with ya yet.” His grip tightened as he pulled out of you. “I’m gonna fuck you so hard now, got it?” Without waiting for an answer, he slammed into you again, his thrusts erratic and violent. “Like that? Wanna see how far you can take it?” He snarled, his pace unrelenting. “Show me how much you can take!”

Your pleasure had reached its peak, crying out in pure ecstasy, “Ahh..! Ohhh..S..Striker..! Yes..! Harder..! Deeper..!” Striker roared, his thrusts becoming even more savage. “Fuck yeah, that’s it,” he gritted out, his breathing labored. “Ya like that, huh?” He reached down, rubbing your clit roughly. “Don’t hold back, darlin’,” he ordered, his pace not slowing. “Let me hear you scream.” His cock slid in and out of you like lightning, each thrust driving you closer to the edge. “Goddamn, I’m gonna paint your walls with my cum,” he promised, his eyes blazing. “Can’t wait to hear ya scream my name.” “Y-Yes..! Please...fill me up...make me yours...ohh fuck..!” You moved your hips to match his thrusts, intensifying the pleasure for both of you. “Ohhh fuck, your cock feels so good, baby..!” Striker growled, feeling you meet his thrusts. “That’s it, darlin’,” he encouraged, his pace increasing. “Fuck, I ain’t gonna last much longer.” He grabbed the back of your head, pulling you into a passionate kiss. You kissed him back, moaning in his mouth as your tongues did an erotic dance. Striker broke the kiss and looked you in the eye. “Tell me what you want, Y/N,” he demanded, his voice raw with desire. “Do ya want me to fill ya up?” His thrusts became more desperate, his hips slamming into yours with all his might. “Tell me what you need, baby girl.” “I..I need you to fill me...fuck me in all of my holes...fill me up full of your cum until I can’t take any more..use me..break me..!” you cried out. Striker’s eyes flashed, his entire being focused on satisfying your request. “Goddamn, that’s what I’m talkin’ about!” he snarled, his thrusts becoming even more brutal. It’s not too long until he came deep inside you, filling your pussy up to the brim. “Gah, fuck..” he groaned. He quickly pulled out and flipped you onto your stomach, wiping his cockhead on your ass before aligning it with your back door. “Ready for another round, darlin’?” He asked, his voice thick with lust.

With a swift motion, he plunged into your ass, making you gasp. “I’mma fill every hole ya got,” he promised, his thrusts frantic. “Feel every inch of my cock inside ya.” His cock slid in and out of you, fucking you mercilessly. “How’s that, huh?” He panted, his grip tightening on your hips. “Need me to go faster, slower?” You gripped tightly on the bedsheet, your teeth gnashing down on the fabric as you lost your mind even further, moaning as he fucked your ass so good, “Ohh yeah...more..fuck me more...don’t stop..” Striker smiled cruelly, his thrusts becoming even harder. “Atta girl,” he praised. “I ain’t gonna stop until you drain every bit of cum from my cock.” He slapped your ass, hearing you whimper. “Scream for me, Y/N,” he commanded, leaning down to bite your neck. “Let everyone know who you belong to.” “S..Striker...ahh...Striker...I..I belong to you..!!” Striker smirked, biting down on your neck to make sure a mark would be left behind, a sign of ownership. “That’s my girl.” His thrusts grew frenzied, his cock stretching your ass to its limit. “So goddamn tight,” he snarled, his pace ruthless. “I’mma make sure you can’t walk tomorrow.” You soon could feel the knot in your belly starting to wind up and soon, you moan out, cumming hard. Finally, he came inside you again, his orgasm shaking his entire body. He kept thrusting into you, elongating both of your orgasms.

“There ya go, baby,” he chuckled, collapsing beside you. “I hope I filled you up good.” You crawled up to him and laid your head on his chest. “Oh, you did so much more than fill me up, baby...” you said, your voice slightly slurred. Striker chuckled, wrapping an arm around you. “Glad to be of service, sweetheart,” he said, his breath still slightly ragged. “Guess ya liked it rough, huh?” He put his hand on top of your head and nuzzled you, his heartbeat slowly returning to normal. “Don’t worry, darlin’,” he whispered, running a hand through your hair. “Next time, I’m gonna be gentler.” He watched you snuggle into him, making him smirk. “Unless you beg for more, of course,” he teased, his eyes twinkling. “But for now, let’s figure out how to pull the wool over that bastard’s eyes and how we’re gonna split that bounty.”

~~~♡♡♡~~~

[anxious-lee]

|| Huskerdust Tickle Headcanons ||

A/N: I know I'm kind of a one-trick pony with these two but like someone has to suffer for these queers right

-------

Husk:

- switch

- not big on lying but WILL lie about being ticklish

- unless you're angel

- only after the cat is out of the bag (😄✋️🫳) will he admit it (begrudgingly)

- not SUPER ticklish, but if you persist long enough, he'll go hysterical

- most ticklish spots are his wing pits and belly

- angel once was planting kisses on husk's tum and husk had to tell him to cut it out because it tickled; angel then proceeded to go FULL HAM on the kisses

- equal parts embarrassed of his ticklishness and annoyed by it; angel gets him to appreciate it though eventually 🥰

- will fight for his life to keep from laughing, but depending on how long you tickle him, he's probably gonna lose

- laughs start out as deep, rumbly, chuckles then further escalates into high pitched giggling and then finally culminates in breathy, wheezy, snorts and cackles

- tickling seems a little too flirtatious for him, so he doesn't like it unless it's with a significant other (angel dust)

- if you tickle his neck very lightly or like with a feather, his whole body of fur stands up on end lmao; picture a cat that got struck by lightning

- won't admit to angel how much he enjoys getting wrecked unless he's in a delirious state; after a good and thorough tickling, husk might say "how much he needed that" in between gasps of air

- the little yellow heart on his foot-paws are VERY ticklish!! Do not touch them unless you want to get kicked in the face

- will panic if you restrain him, pin him down semi-firmly instead 😊

- purrs when tickled

- flaps his wings too

- PURRS WHEN TICKLED

- he loves to be a ler for his boyfriend, its like his other favorite thing (beside getting tickled obvi)

- is very conscientious of angel's harmful past and takes very good care not to overstep any boundaries

- with that low, rumbling voice you KNOW he's a vicious teaser

- teases angel with smug or sarcastic comments ("you're not doing a very good job of pretending to get away" "maybe this'll teach you to stop pesterin' me while I work" "'wait?' wait for what? because you and I both know. you. love. this")

- claws are his primary tickle weapons, but his feathers and tail plumage are excellent helpers

- never takes his smouldering eyes off of angel, which drives the poor man crazy

- when he's not doing the usual pin down method, he's a big fan of the hug-from-behind tickles as a ler

- the kind of tickler to stay at your weakest (or favorite) spot and tickle it till you're all good and laughed out

- finishes each tickle session with angel with attentive aftercare, the gentleness of which one wouldn't expect from husk

- they have a safeword established but even still husk stops immediately after hearing the word "stop"; this reassures angel that husk values his consent but it also makes it pretty inconvenient when angel cries it out accidentally and then is like "actually could you keep going please? 😗👉👈" husk: 😑

Angel:

- lee-leaning switch

- like 90% lee I would say

- LOVES to be tickled

- will NEVER admit it

- it's one thing for him to say tickle fights are a turn on, it's entirely another for him to reveal that they make him feel loved

- husk knows through context clues (look up "Ask" fic) and verbally teases him about it while he's tickling him

- is extremely ticklish, which as husk has pointed out, is odd considering his whole profession involves people touching him

- ^ the trick is: he's not crazy ticklish in all places, just SOME places

- most of his body is a-little-above-averagely ticklish

- but his armpits are killer

- giggles adorably at every other spot, but the armpits make him cackle (also adorable)

- squirms like you would not believe

- pretty likely you'll get smacked in the face by one of angel's swatting hands

- despite everything valentino has put him through, he still does enjoy bottoming and- wait ITS GOING NSFW LET ME EXPLAIN-

- ^ he still has fun surrendering control when he trusts the other person. and who does he trust more than husk? normally husk wouldn't be too keen on restraining him, but it adds to the spider's enjoyment and helps him stay still enough to enjoy the treatment, so he obliges. as said before, they have a safeword handy. husk knows that angel enjoys the pretend helplessness, so he puts on an act pretending that angel is helpless to escape his tickly fate, as if husk wouldnt drop everything the moment he thought angel really wanted him to stop. nothing makes angel happier than getting tickled senseless all tied up and vulnerable to his boyfriends loving teases

- blushes a nice pretty pink when laughing 😊

- surprisingly good at handling teases. the normal cutesy stuff (ie baby talk) doesn't do much to him and he can keep a cool head. but blunt observations? and facts? (the kind of teasing husk is best at) completely disarm him

- husk: "you're jumping an awful lot for someone who's NOT ticklish" "you love it when i touch you here don't you?" "I'll keep going alllllll night long, I'll tickle you till you can't even think, it's just you and me, and my wiggling fingers"

- angel will point out later that husk could make a lucrative career in the adult film industry with his verbal talents (husk politely refuses)

- remember that little squeak that angel's bosom made when husk poked it in ep 4? Yeah his whole body makes those sounds when you poke him 😊; alongside angel's hysterical giggles are the sounds of rubber duck squeaks. husk loves it

- this isn't news, angel is a criminally talented ler

- he can make each set of hands give a different amount of pressure and different technique, confusing your brain and making it all the more unbearable

- husk isn't just his favorite lee because he loves him. no no no, he's his favorite lee because you really have to work for it. husk won't open up to just anybody. and when you do, it's the most precious thing you've ever seen. angel thinks so anyway 🩷

- respects husk's boundaries just as much as husk respects his; after the teasing and anticipation is over and angel is JUST about to go in for the kill, he'll lean down and whisper "this ok?", to which husk can only look away and nod slightly, too mortified to say much else. every now and then throughout the tickles he'll repeat the question and wait for the ok signal

- he tried to give husk a relaxing foot massage (paw massage?) but he was too ticklish around the heart-shaped area so you can probably guess how that ended ;)

- they have a mutual agreement: no tickling (except maybe a poke) outside of their bedroom. they don't want any prying eyes on their private business

- tickle fights are always fun, just them wrestling and taking turns getting each other, trying to gain the upper hand

- favorite thing to do after a particularly rigorous tickle fight? naps 😊 <3

--------

Finally finished! 😁

[jjunberry]

hwacrossing

pairing! park seonghwa x reader

genre! fluff

synopsis! playing acnh with hwa and showing him the joys of treasure islands

wc! 600

animal crossing was a shared interest between yourself and seonghwa. he had started way before you so his island was already well decorated. yours however…was sort of a mess still. with only having your entrance done you started to get desperate for new paths and new decorations. you we’re beginning to get bored of waiting for the recipes and events.

so you did what any reasonable person would do. you went onto treasure islands. suddenly you had millions of bells and all the decorations and flowers you could possibly want. seonghwa blissfully unaware to your treasure island shenanigans. he took pride in sending you decorations and bells. he loved that you needed him.

seonghwa packed up his switch and an overnight bag to stay at yours for the weekend. when he arrived at your house you were already playing. “y/nie i told you to wait for me.” he playfully whined. you giggled. “sorry hwa, i couldn’t help myself i’m almost done with my fossil digging site.” his brows furrowed.

he took a seat next to you and stared at your screen. he watched you run around and place certain decorations and add a fossil he knew you didn’t dig up yet. “y/n where did you get that? it’s not in your museum.” you looked at the fossil. “oh that? i found it on a treasure island.” you shrugged. seonghwa gasped dramatically. “look at all of those bells! how’d you get that many so fast?” you sighed and pulled out your phone.

opening twitch you looked up treasure islands and clicked on a stream with about fifty viewers. seonghwa’s eyes scanned the screen. “oh my god, where have these been this whole time?” he questioned. seonghwa went to his airport to visit a garden materials island.

“i can finally have my cherry blossoms.” he smiled. for the next several hours the two of you played together visiting different treasure islands. eventually both of your islands were filled with random flowers and decorations.

“oh my god y/n! look look.” seonghwa shoved his switch in your face. “what.” you giggled pushing it back slightly. “do you see that?” he pointed to a lily of the valley that grew. your eyes went wide. “oh my god seonghwa no way!” you screamed. he smirked proudly.

“wait a minute.” you looked at his unplaced items and weeds from him time traveling. “seonghwa.” you glared. “what?” he asked. “there is no way that just grew there your island is a mess!” he gasped placing his hand over his heart. “are you accusing me of planting a lily of the valley from a treasure island to trick you?” he asked.

“you just admitted to it!” you smacked him with one of your couch pillows. “hey.” he whined before tackling you onto the couch. the two of you play fought until he pinned your hands above you. the sound of your heavy breathes filled the silence.

the faint sounds of animal crossing in the background. he smiled at you before capturing your lips against his. you leaned up into the kiss and he released his hold on your hands. he pulled you up against him as he deepened the kiss.

the both of you pulled away breathless. “you know, i picked up a wedding set from the last island i visited.” you said shyly. seonghwa smirked and kissed you deeply. “well then open your gates for visitors baby.” he patted your bottom before you both took off to your switches once again.

-

author’s note! i’m totally convinced seonghwa’s island has cherry blossoms year round

love, echo ☁️⋅♡𓂃 ࣪

© jjunberry

[catharusustulatus]

Steddie Drabble, sequel to this post.

TW: child abuse.

Steve doesn’t have much. Eddie had made them a list of things to grab before they’d headed over to the Harrington house, a list of clothes, toiletries, basics and such, with “shampoo” underlined and “bowling pin” circled. They’d borrowed an extra duffel from Marianne across the way, since they didn’t know if trash bags would be enough, and thank god they had, kid sure had a polo collection. But moving it all out of that place - nice car parked yet nobody home, they found, blood still on the carpet - and seeing it stacked up next to Eddie’s exploding menagerie were two different things. And it just seemed to Wayne, well, when Steve was up for it, maybe they’d go to the thrifty mart together.

Steve is quiet, on account of the pain he felt moving his face and the shyness he had shrunken into, having been quickly and sharply beaten and disowned and then thrust into a new life, a new space. Wayne knew it was different, going from a frequent guest who got to put on the charm to a hurting ball of need. To feel like a burden. He saw the same thing happen to Eddie, when he was a child; he changed from an energetic ragamuffin who’d visit Wayne once every couple months to a sad, angry teen who he had to figure out how to live with. But it had worked out. And seeing how gently Eddie cleans Steve’s bruised face, how he changes his whole schedule to take care of Steve, how he cuts fruit for Steve, hearing Eddie whisper Steve to sleep, he thinks it will work out again.

Wayne learns a lot about Steve over the next couple of weeks. He learns how good a cook Steve is, how good he is at making scrambled eggs, tuna melts. How his hair is a source of pride but also seems to show off how he’s doing, like it’s connected to his mood. Some days it’s sky-high and some days it’s flat until Eddie starts whistling up the walk. Wayne loves watching Steve’s hair puff up, his smile grow, and Eddie seems to do the trick. Wayne learns just about every shirt he has is striped, that he can’t hear that well on his left side, that he likes his toast burnt to a crisp.

One morning, a couple weeks after Steve becomes his second duckling, they’re both up early in the kitchen waiting for Eddie to rise. Steve is making bacon and pork sausage, shuffling the meat around and shuffling himself around, like he’s scared to say something. Finally Wayne says “what is it, son?” And Steve starts to cry, one slow beautiful tear down each cheek. He’s been looking better, lately, seeming brighter, but he’s still been holding his breath. It’s time to exhale.

“Thank you. For saving me,” Steve moves the pan to the back burner, meat cooked, looking away. Wayne turns the stove off, and folds Steve into his arms, chuckling. Steve smells like Eddie. Steve smells like Wayne’s tobacco.

“Ain’t no thing about it, boy,” Wayne whispers to Steve, trembling and clutching the spatula. “You’re safe. You’re family.” And he pulls away before he goes softer himself, coughs, turns the stove back on for Steve’s eggs. A small little smile creeps up on Steve’s lips, still shy but an agreement nonetheless. He’s home, making breakfast for those that love him. And later, they’ll go thrifting, get Steve a thicker winter coat, more kitchen tools, some striped pajamas.