#little guy with big axe!

[nexahexagon]

MORE SNEEG ART

How am I supposed to Catch Up with Sneeg Vods when he’s hitting 10 HOUR STREAMS??? EXCUSE YOU SIR??

Also I still haven’t moved on from his “I’ll follow my Queen” he. Should anchor that as a Lore point methinks. Maybe. Especially cuz Crinkle wants Foolish dead. Or maybe I just want to see Ros succeed as an authority. She deserves it methinks.

[gremlingottoosilly]

Lost City Girl + (Serial Killer) Farmer Konig?

You're a fine thing for a city girl. Konig stares at your legs, wrapped up in those tight jeans shorts of yours - too tiny, leaving little dents in your skin. He would put his tongue all over them, mark the little painful streaks. He would make you a fine, honest woman - no pants, no panties, either. Just flowy nightgowns and whatever he can get from the supply store. Maybe some bandages when you're bad. He sees you stumble across the road, your legs trembling like a newborn fawn. So wide-eyed and scared, it's hard to not give notice to his cock straining his pants. He imagines dragging you to his van by your hair, listening to you kicking and screaming. Maybe forcing his cock down your throat before dropping you on the floor, letting you scream until your lungs gave up. A pretty bird, a new addition to the cage. Not a lot of tourists came to town this year, but some peace and quiet were getting on his nerves. He wanted - needed - to plunge his axe in someone soft and cute. Konig stares at you from his car window and can almost imagine closing his teeth around your neck. You asked for directions, and he offered you a ride to the train station. Not that far from the city, a pretty view. One train coming from Salzburg every three days. Rain would make the rail useless for at least a week. You drop your bag on the bottom of of the front seat - he prides himself in keeping it clean, a habit from before the discharge. Knowing how to mop floors and getting rid of the body parts long before it became a question of survival. He offers you a ride to his house as you stumbled over the closed station. Said his wife probably won't mind - they don't have a lot of guests on the farm, and even a big guy like himself couldn't eat through all of her boring cooking. Your shoulder relaxes as he slips about a wife - you're less tense immediately. Konig isn't sure how to tell you that his wife is the one who is probably rotting in the basement already. Last tourist group came over a month ago, just like he said, after all. Worry not, he will get you a fresh dress, with only a few blood stains. He thinks he will keep you. A warm body next to his, promoted from a basement cunt to a proper housewife. Maybe he could teach you how to work with chicken and how to milk a goat. Maybe he could put a baby in you and make you an addition to the cow barn. Milk your tits every day, give you a litter. Maybe fuck you in the hay, chain you to the breeding stand. Fill you up before forcing you into his bedroom.

[takes1]

bokuto flirting with inexperienced!reader

nobody asked for this but i can't get this idea out of my head. second time i've written a kuroo's little sister thing and it just seems to read well imo?

warnings. nsfw themes, minors DNI

details. fem!reader / kuroo's little sister!reader / touchy!bokuto / flirty!bokuto / corruption kink!bokuto / virgin!reader / nerdy!reader / kuroo cockblocking / house party / protective kuroo / bokuto being a bad friend / bokuto crushing on you / 2.7k nsfw to follow, reply to be added to taglist

links. my masterlist. my ao3. more haikyuu. my request box. part two here. part three here.

"The guys are comin' over at twelve." Tetsurou informed you with a flat tone. He didn't even look up from his phone as he swiped a banana from the counter.

"Don't care."

Your parents were gone on another business trip, meaning this weekend was a free for all. Your version of fun wouldn't sway far from your usual path, staying up, playing games on your laptop after you were done studying for finals; your older brother gravitated towards more social hobbies.

"Sooo, like," He spared a glance to see what you were doing, "Fuckin' scram. Before then."

Papers, handouts, and notebooks littered the breakfast counter. Your laptop played an educational video from one of your classes and you had propped your phone to look at another online text. One highlighter hit the floor a while ago but you hadn't picked it up yet.

When you didn't acknowledge him, completely in the zone, he scrunched up his nose.

"Did you hear me, dumbass?"

"Shuuuut-the-fuck-up-I'm-doooiiing-somethiiing."

In a colored pen, you inked in a corresponding bar from a practice problem so you could visualize the axes.

If you had checked the time, you would know you had maybe ten minutes before twelve to 'scram.'

One could smell the attitude coming off of him from a mile away. Though he didn't say anything to you, it was made crystal clear in the way he sucked his teeth at you and shoved a chair before he walked upstairs.

It wasn't, and would never be, explicitly spoken, but the reason he didn't want you around was because he knew some friends were just too weird around girls. Kenma was the only friend he trusted to be alone in a room with you, and that was because he didn't like anyone. The roster of guys coming over to play some Xbox, play a match in the backyard, drink up your parents' liquor, and sleep over could've been a suspect line if was asked to judge their moral character.

Your slow, neat line of pen for your next graph became a scribbled mess in less than a second as the doorbell started ringing in a slew of rapid presses.

DINGDINGDINGDINGDINGDING

"Get the door!" You yelled to the stairway, frustration waning only after a nasty sigh.

There was too much to move to your room. You didn't have enough space on your desk for a spread like this, even if you moved every current thing off of it.

Footsteps padded swift back down the steps, not even getting the opportunity to do what he intended to upstairs, and he jabbed a finger at you but you couldn't see.

"Hey!" He shouted. Like he was offended you raised your voice at him to grab the door.

You slammed your palms on the counter and took a breath to yell, just before he called to you from the door, incredibly stern, "Fuck off somewhere else."

"Get the stick out of your ass!" You rolled your eyes and, then and there, decided to not move for anything.

Tetsurou gritted his teeth and pulled open the door, but it didn't nothing to stop Bokuto from pressing the doorbell. Next to him was Akaashi, patiently watching the button-pressing. It was raining, so that meant no practice match; they would have to stay entertained inside.

His big, cheesy grin was hardly a relief, "Hey hey heyy, buddyy!"

"Hey," He said, distracted, thinking about how disastrous this might turn out. He wondered if it was too late to reserve space in the gym, or even cancel.

"Woah-ho-ho," Bokuto giggled at his less-than-enthusiastic greeting and squeezed past him, unwilling to wait outside for any longer, "Don't sound so excited!"

The big, hulking presence stopped in the doorway, hastily removing his wet jacket and shoes. He retold the events of getting here in the rain, sparing Akaashi a few seconds in between to fix his embellished details. He was speaking to Tetsurou at such a volume that you had to search for your earbuds to drown his loud mouth out.

DINGDINGDINGDINGDING--

Maybe all of his stupid friends would ring the bell the same way. Thankfully, he was right there to open it and tell the next two groups to stop.

Soon, your living room was filled with almost all of Nekoma (only a few of which you could recognize from the handful of his games you had attended), and some guys you had never seen before.

It got so loud, so fast.

Your stubborn streak wasn't serving you well. Despite the separation you got from the one wall between you and the entryway, all the sound still poured into the kitchen through the open layout. Your technology wouldn't hold up to how loud a bunch of high school guys could get.

Tetsurou slinked into the kitchen, slow, quiet despite you both staring at each other.

He slid next to you, elbow scrunching one of your precious papers. He had that shitty, low-lidded smirk on his face.

Another boisterous laugh sounded through from the other room and your wince was only proof of your predicament. It sounded like they were fighting, or wrestling, or something that needed to be done outside.

He whispered, "Are you ready to give up?"

"Once you drop dead," You whispered back, clicking your pen ready.

His nostrils flared at your resilience. "You aren't even studying--,"

"Sooo! Where's all that liquor you promised, Kuroo?"

You watched your brother freeze up at the new voice coming into the kitchen. It was genuine distress that flashed across his face for half a second - you wouldn't have had the chance to see it, if he wasn't so up in your business. You turned just in time to watch a guy who didn't go to your school strut in.

"Woah!" He looked straight past your brother, right to you, "Who's thiiis?"

Tetsurou put his hand on your shoulder, something he never did, so you brushed it off as he started, "This is my--,"

"Heyy, Pretty," Bokuto sang just to you, big eyes trailing up, down, and back again, blatantly ignoring his friend.

You laughed at the interaction between them and his nickname for you. He was super hot. It left your brother impatient.

He closed the distance to shake your hand, unable to keep his eyes on just your face.

"This is my little sister," Tetsurou asserted, louder, this time.

The palm on the guy was so huge that you couldn't grip it. His hand could've easily crushed yours but he chose to shake it gently, then held it with both hands when he closed more distance.

"Hmm," He chuckled, "Hey, little sister. My name's Bokuto, but you can call me Ace."

You told him your name in an enamored giggle- biting your lip when he cupped his ear to hear it again, so you repeated it, surely less intelligible.

"(Y/n)?" He asked, jovial, like he was trying to make you keep laughing. He succeeded, "That's nice, but I like Pretty better."

Tetsurou moved himself between you, not a big enough presence to make Bokuto stop touching you or talking in the slightest.

"It suits you, yeah?"

Your brother cleared his throat so loud that it sounded cartoonish. Your fingers slipped from his hand, despite his attempts to keep them all to himself, and you wrapped your arms around yourself, looking down and away. His anger was tangible.

Tetsurou stepped in front of you and faced him. They went just outside of the open doorway. It left you to clean up your papers, laptop, pens, highlighters, books. He muttered many things, but you only caught:

"You serious?" Met with: "Relax, dude!"

"Do I need to worry about you the whole fucking weekend, bro?" Answered with: "Obviously not!"

"This is a line. Don't- don't cross it." Satisfied with: "Have some faith in me, bud, come on."

His friend drama wasn't your problem, but it was oh-so-entertaining to listen to. You fixed up your belongings very slowly so that when they came back, you didn't look so suspicious.

To your dismay, only Tetsurou came back in. He squinted at your gathered things.

"Good. Go upstairs," He said, so simple, with half of his attention on you, half on his friends horsing around in the living room, as if it was normal- as if you had ever tolerated him speaking to you like that before.

You threw a pen at his face, laughing loud with pure delight when it left a streak on his jaw. You had incidentally left it open.

There were few times you had seen him so indelibly angry.

The speed at which he nabbed the pen off of the the floor and hurled it back at you was worthy of a world-record. You only managed to dodge it because you knew what he was going to do before he did.

It shattered on the cupboard, ink exploding all over the floor, staining the counter.

There was almost no time to make a smartass comment, because as soon as you conjured one and inhaled to say it, something crashed in the living room. It sounded eerily mother's-favorite-vase-like.

He was teeming with contempt.

You didn't say anything back when he held his hand up, silently forbidding you from following him to investigate the now-silent room.

It was all his fault, when you thought about it. He dug his grave, since he decided on his own to have all of his rowdy friends over. It wasn't on you that he broke a pen, his friends broke a vase, and his best friend was so sweet to you in the first thirty minutes of the weekend starting.

While you could have left the mess for him to clean up, you didn't want to go upstairs just yet. Once you did, you'd have to justify coming back down. So, you pulled out some cleaning supplies under the sink and started picking up the little sharp plastic pieces of pen.

"Woah, what happened in here?"

You perked right up at the voice, somehow embarrassed to be found like this.

Bokuto threw a look over his shoulder before he fully came in. When he decided to enter, a big smile took up his whole face, making all his handsome features super friendly-looking.

He wasted no time sliding over the tile to squat next to you and inspect the damage.

"Tetsurou threw a pen," You said, quiet, avoiding his attentive stare.

He shook his head, disapproving, and started collecting the pieces with you. He gladly took your hand in his so he could place them in your palm. It was so unnecessary, but it made you giggle again.

"You like studying?" His head dipped to see more of your face, eyes bouncing around to take in all of your features.

It made you shy away and stand to throw the pieces out. But he followed just to watch you, amused at your mannerisms.

"Not really-," You squeezed past him, beginning to spray at and wipe off the ink, sparing a glance to your stuff on the counter, "I mean, there is something nice about it- but,"

Bokuto was too entranced by your lips to properly listen to you ramble. He glanced up to your eyes only on occasion, otherwise sporting an intense stare at your cute mouth, or the way you used your already busy hands when you spoke.

Soon you had told him too much, and there was no ink to clean up anymore, so you returned to sit on the stool next to the counter.

"I didn't know Kuroo had a sister," He sighed.

He chose not to sit, but to stand over you, just so that you had no option but to look up at him.

"Especially not one so cute," His knuckle grazed your warm cheek as you smiled at the floor, "God, you really are such a cutie, huh? You got a boyfriend?"

Your body braced at his touch. He took a step forward, one hand on the counter behind you.

"Mm-mm," You tried to meet his eyes, but it was impossible.

Staring at his body wasn't a bad deal, though. His shirt fit him nice and tight at the shoulders, then loosened, a little flowy at his waist thanks to his impressive build.

"That's good," His fingers dipped to your chin, gently bringing your face to look at him.

This you could only stand for a moment or two. You pushed his forearm down so he would stop touching your face, making you look this way and that.

He sighed, keeping his arm near you in case you wanted to keep your hands on him, but once he understood it wouldn't happen, he put it on the other side of you.

"I've- never had a boyfriend," You admitted, breathless at the pressure of such proximity.

It was mostly as a way to excuse your bashfulness, in partial hopes that he didn't take your hesitation as a sign of rejection.

You loved the attention. It was difficult to keep up with, but it didn't mean that you didn't want it.

His knuckles were white against the counter behind your back. His breath shallowed out. He had a hard time catching it, left recovering from the carnal reaction to such a perfect opportunity sitting before him.

All he heard was the chance to be unrivaled- a white knight of the bedroom, in a sense. To drag out that cute, adoring look on your face for as long as it took to break you in. His jaw tensed, his friendly smile faltering at the thought of what he could show you, teach you, be the very first to do to you.

He grinned, "No wonder he wants to keep you locked up, then."

♕VIP♕

@integers @yuchacco

my masterlist. my request box.

reply to be added for future parts!

[bluetimeombre]

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐋𝐚𝐝𝐲𝐩𝐨𝐨L 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐖𝐨𝐥𝐯𝐢e

Deadpool and Wolverine but your lady pool and an absolute SLUT for Wolverine.

[this is a complete self insert with just everything I was thinking about during the movie and since then I’ve watched it three times. It gets better every time. Snippets of the movie, will probably do a part two. SPOILERS!]

part two

Warning/disclaimer: femreaderxwolverine, sexual content, sexual language, offensive language, just being a whore the man, cursing, repeat daddy issues, never proof-read.

After digging up Logan and expecting to find a shirtless and oiled-up Hugh Jackman, you were a little more than disappointed to find the bones and metal. 'Damn it! Shit! Fuck! They Les Mis'd him!'

Eventually, you settled down next to the remains, against the same log that had impaled him. 'That was weird,' you chuckled. 'I'm much calmer now. Look, I'm not a woman in stem but you seem incredibly dead to me. Oh, you sexy lump of bones and metal. I would have let you slide them into me any day.'

'But it's good to see you,' you pat his knee. 'I gotta be honest, I've always wanted to ride you, Logan. Oh, whoops, I meant with you. Ha! Who am I kidding, no I didn't. Just you and me, getting into it. And I mean into it. Every style. Doggy. Sixty-nine. On the kitchen counter to the bathroom. Till my back broke. Yea, we'd have been good together.' You ranted, fantasies flying across your mind too quick to focus on one.

With your red-gloved hand, you jerk the chin. 'G'day mate, there's nothing that'll bring me back to life faster than a big bag of Marvel cash. Ha- I hear you, Hugh. But no, no, no, no you had to go and get all noble and die for real. I could really use your help right now. And a massage. Your big manly hands just rubbing all over me-'

Just as you were about to go into further detail about what you want him to do to you, the sound of portals opening and heavy boots stomping closer alerted you.

Quickly, you pulled the skeleton down on top of you.

'There are two hundred and six bones in the body. Two hundred and seven if i'm watching Van Helsing.'

Que the fucking montage.

You have a mission. Find a Logan to take back with you. First up you end up in a bar, catching an axe as it was thrown at you. 'Logan! I'm gonna need you to come with me.'

The Logan sitting at the bar slowly turned to you. 'Who's asking? ' He slipped from the bar stool to reveal a 5'3 Logan.

You coo. 'Well, who's this little ankle biter. Did you stick the landing little guy? Yes you did, comic-accurate short king. Such a cute little Wolvie.'

The little guy started stalking toward you.

'Que the fucking montage.'

You found a Wolverine for the seventies, or eighties, something close enough to that, one hand missing. 'Oh yea, sexy, you have anchor being written all over you.'

You found patch Logan. 'Oh hello, Patch. Should've worn my white suit.'

You found another old man Logan, sitting solemnly on his front porch. 'Howdy! Oh, I see, you're the daddy issues one. Good to see god has answered my prayers. So soldier, do I need to be a bad girl so you put me over your knee, daddy?'

Another was tied to a cross with red bloody skulls acting as a floor.

One was dressed in a tight yellow and brown suit, walking through the woods. 'Hubba hubba. Classic! Now, you fought the Hulk in this suit, right?' as he snicked his claws out, the green of the beast reflected from behind you. 'I am Marvel Jesus you dull creature and I will not be-'

One, your favourite, was working on a bike in a tight white vest and dark pants. You drooled. 'That's the whole goddamn package right there. You know from behind you look a bit- holy Shit!' he turned, and everything about him was Wolverine. Except for the fact he was Henry fucking Cavil. 'The Cavalry has arrived. The prophecy has been fulfilled. Can I say, sir, sorry, daddy- on behalf of all of humanity, this just feels right! We will treat you so much better than those shit fucks down the street!'

He took the cigar from his mouth, stalking to you. You had never been so aroused in your life. 'You were just leaving'

Giggling and twirling your hair, you hold a hand out, ghosting over his chest. 'Can I just, one- one touch. Oh my god! You're like Superman or something.'

He punched you right into the Logan you needed. Thank you Cavil.

'You two gonna fuck or fight?' asked the bartender. 'Both if i'm lucky,' you said.'

'Oh look at those sexy little jammies, that only took twenty fucking years!'

The trash heap was the last place you wanted to end up, but when you woke to Logan looming over you, a snarl on his face, you sighed in relief.

'Well, hello sexiest man alive, 2008. Wanna give me a hand? Or head?'

He sniked his claws out.

'Kinky! That's new for Disney!'

He dug his claws into your ribs and dragged you up with them. 'Where the fuck are we?'

'I dunno, but it looks a bit mad maxxy to me. But that would be IP infringement right?'

'Fucking jokes,' Logan uttered. He threw you over his leg, your back breaking.

'Till my back breaks, Wolvie!' you yelled out, quickly rolling yourself back up and shaking it off. 'Look, I think we got off on the wrong foot. I'm a big fan. How about we strip off our suits, take a tumble in the sand, get to know one another you know. Personally, I'm more of a cowgirl fan but I'm willing to do whatever you want baby.'

'You're unbelievable,' he grumbled. It was still sexy. He turned his back to you.

'Oh, I see, is that what you did when your world went to shit!'

He paused, his head slowly turning to you. 'Say again, bub?'

'Oh, I am so horny right now.'

The two of you engaged in a fight, and not the sexy stradling fight that would happen later, but the guns firing, swords slashing kind of fight. that was only interrupted by a familiar voice.

The only other voice that could have you dropping your panties as quick as Wolverine. He was hooded, hidden, but you knew him from your sex dreams.

'Dear god almighty, it's him.'

'Who?' growled Logan.

'Don't be jealous baby, I have two holes for a reason. Don't worry gorgeous, you're gonna encounter some delicate language, a smidge of ass play but we've been prohibited from using cocaine, at least on page.'

He raised a hand. 'They're coming.'

'Who's they?'

The three of you watch cars and trucks drive through the waste, keeping you trapped. There were familiar faces, Pyro, Toad. And Sabertooth.

The mysterious figure jumped down and mastered the superhero landing that had you clapping your hands and jumping up and down.

'Oh my god! Oh my god!' you held onto Logan's shoulder as you jumped while he just glared at you.

'I've got this,' the man takes down his hood, showing the beautiful, hot, strong, handsome, hubba-hubba worthy, Chris Evans.

'Oh yes, you do sexiest man alive, 2022!' you cheer.

'Stay close,' Chris- or Steve- called back to you.

You stalk over to him. 'Aye aye, Captain.' you wrap your arms around his stomach, fingers trailing over his abs. He removes you and you groan, sulking. You walk back to Wolverine and jump onto the side of his hip.

Instinctively he holds your ass which makes you giddy before he realises his mistake and drops you.

'You're not gonna love what happens next,' shouted the captain.

Your jaw dropped from behind the mask. 'Holy shit, omg! No way, he's gonna say it! He's gonna say it!' you flick one of your swords that was still poking out of Wolverine's chest. 'Avengers-'

'Flame on!' Steve- no, Johnny- yelled and took to the skies in a ball of fire.

It was sort of stupid in hind sight as Pyro lifted a hand and extinguished him, causing him to fall from the skies and go crotch first into a billboard.

'No!' you screamed, rushing to him and rolling onto his back to get a look at him. 'No, no baby, stay with me. Let me take a look!' you tried to pull down his pants but Logan literally pulled you off him.

You were tied up with Wolverine on the front side of you and Johnny on the back. When you woke, you giggled. 'Woah, just like my dreams.'

Johnny woke to, lifting his head from your shoulder. 'How long was I out?'

You smirk under the mask, looking back to him. 'Not all of you was asleep, say Cap, is that a Glock in your pocket or are you just happy to see me?

'Is that Chuck? Hey Chuck, over here! Hope it's you young, god, we got James Macovy in this?' you yelled as a wheelchair rolled out as you entered the thing that was apparently large Paul Rudd.

'Cassandra Nova. Charles's twin,' the villain introduced herself.

'Holy shit,' said Logan.

'How was anal birth?' you asked.

Cassandra smirked. 'You two are cute. I have a good feeling about this.'

'Right!' you cheered. 'Just wait till this ends, the smut is off the charts!'

She took the chain from around the two of you but you wrapped yourself around Logan's arm, he only grunted at you. He only pushed you off when you started to go off and off about what Johnny said about Cassandra. 'People think i'm a shit talker but this guy-' you chef's kiss. 'Next level!'

Cassandra, with a flick of her hand, shed the skin from him as he fell in a heap of bones and blood and skin,

You cried out, holding onto Logan for dear life. 'My favourite Chris!'

'You silly little bitch, you just got him fucking killed!' yelled Logan.

'Fine, spank me then! P.S. Do you know what he was doing to the budget!'

You were brought to Ultimatum with Cassadra, Oliath or the other British villain, but all you wanted was to save your world, bang Wolvy and go home.

'I didn't want it to come to this, either you help us or my boyfriend here is gonna perform the whole of Greatest Showman as a one-man show,' you warn.

'I'm not her boyfriend,' Logan grumbled.

Cassandra went on a trauma dump that had you groaning. 'Couldn't you just turn into accomplishment like the rest of us?'

But I'm not like the rest of you, except maybe the Wolverine, now we could be truly terrifying together.'

'Sorry lady, he's taken!'

'Not for long,' Cassandra smirked and as Logan attacked, she sent him in the ground and away from you. You only whined at his disappearance, a whine that turned into a groan when Cassandra's fingers entered you in the worst way possible. Through your head.

'What can I see here?' she asked. Cassandra gasped. 'Oh, you are a whore.'

Oh yes, she saw the million filthy things you wanted to do to Logan.

The two of you made it out and to the diner where Logan was intent on finding food and taking rubbing alcohol shots. When he sat across from you, chucking a tin of spam at you, you pulled of your mask.

Logan stilled, looking at you with finally something a little different than anger.

'What?' you asked.

'I thought you'd be ugly under there.'

'No- no, that's the Deadpool. I'm better, and a self-insert.'

The two of you took to walking through the rather nicer side of the waste. You had his hand in yours, swinging it happily like you were a couple before he threatened to chop your hand off.

'You said Logan was a hero, what happened?' he asked.

'You died. Technically you were chest fucked by a tree, but really you just ran out of batteries trying to save this girl- a kid really. Always wanted a man who's good with kids. The shit heels who grew her in a lab called her x-23, but she was just a kid. A smaller, cute and mean version of you. Yep, you saved her, very hero, very demure.'

The two of you were interrupted when a bark sounded over the hill and the BEST DOG EVER ran out to you, ears flapping in the wind, tongue out as it always was. The little boots. The collar. It was Dogpool.

You threw off your mask and picked her up, cuddling her close. 'She's coming with us.'

'No she's not!' he argued.

'Yes, she is!'

'No!'

You pulled out your puppy dog eyes and lifted the dog to your face and slowly the resolve in his face slipped.

'Sorry!' another man ran out, chasing after the dog.

'Fucking shit bag!' you cursed.

It was another dead pool, a good-looking one with long hair.

'What's Ryan Reynolds actually doing here, I thought I replaced him?' you said.

'In here everyone calls me Nicepool.'

'Can we have your dog?' you asked immediately.

He laughed. 'over my dead body!'

You nod, thinking about it but Logan holds out his arm before you can even move.

Whatever Nicepool was saying was you didn't care as you cooed and hugged the dog closer and Logan watched.

Fuck, he was paying attention to you.

'Why are you so nice?' you asked eventually.

'It costs nothing to be kind,' he said.

'Shutting the fuck up is also free,' said Logan.

You bite your lip in his direction. 'God I am so attracted to you right now. This is Logan, he's usually shirtless but he's let himself go since the divorce.'

Finally, the Nicepool took you to his ride to get you and Logan and the dog to the borderlands.

It was a honda fucking odyssey.

Logan wasn't willing to listen to your complaints. 'Get in the fucking car.'

'Make me, Daddy,' you said.

He took one step closer to you and you backed away with the dog. 'No, we're running away!'

Logan forced her from your arms and handed him back to the Nicepool.

'The corn was to dense girl!' you called after her, pouting.

Logan shoves you into the passenger seat while he takes the wheel.

You pull of your mask, hair falling around you like you were in an advert. 'So, what shall we do to pass the time...'

Honda Odyssey coming soon, that my friends, is called edging.

[simonsslut]

meeting simon in the army.

18+ MDNI || nsfw || f!reader || oneshot/drabble || masterlist

wc: around 4.8k

cw: eventual smut, unprotected p in v, lil massage trope, spit kink, simon being his own enemy, reader being oblivious, simon loves tits, simon’s kinda mean at first but sweet at the end-ish, not proofread.

Lieutenant Riley is familiar with the process of adding a new addition to their little task force. but just because he's familiar with it, doesn't mean he's a fan of it.

a new member, a new person means that he has to most likely deal with another soap of sorts. don't get it wrong, he's okay with soap, but that doesn't mean he enjoys the constant questions soap seems to ask about him, even when he knows they irritate him, but that won't stop his curiosity.

you're confident when you show up to the meeting room, nothing new. recruits are either confident in themselves or they're completely terrified and it'll be written all over their faces.

soap is quick to befriend you, both of you snipers and demolition experts after all. it gives him a whole new buddy to talk with. simon takes this as a good sign, maybe he won't have to spend much time showing your around and telling you about the team and how things work here if soap is gonna spend all his time with you. right? wrong.

Price assigns soap on a mission with another task force soap had recently worked with before TF141. meaning that Simon is going to have to spend every free waking moment he has with you. and for a guy like Simon, this is hell. but don't take it the wrong way, he's like this with everyone.

you're quick to find the large man rude, dismissive. you'll ask barely personal questions and he'll shrug it off and blatantly ignore you. will roll his eyes or just walk away mid-conversation (which was one-sided anyway).

maybe you talked too much? had you asked him too many questions? maybe he just didn't like you for absolutely zero reason. you decided to stop thinking too much about it. you didn't do anything wrong, maybe he's just a natural-born asshole.

Soap had mentioned something about the lieutenant having a stick somewhere deep up his ass and to not worry too much about how he treats you.

however, after telling yourself you'd stop losing sleep over it, you continued.

maybe he just wasn't used to having a woman on his team. They are all men after all. but that wouldn't be professional, plus the others aren't like that with you. they kinda just treat you like their own. they knew about your background, and what you have done, and they respected you for it, so why couldn't he?

simon knows better than most about your background, he had to study your file after Price mentioned your recruitment.

"weapons of choice - melee; knives, axe."

a shared opinion.

he trains with you to see how advanced you really are. weapon training and all that is fine, but sparring? this has to be a joke. that mountain of a man versus you? you've got muscle to you, yeah, but even soap going against simon is an evident loss. and soap is a big guy.

you start off with Gaz. he's also tall and well built, but he's the more common build of soldiers. you guys spar for an hour, or two, and then you take a break.

you don't think much about who your next spar round will be with, so the anxiousness doesn't begin to settle in until ghost's rough voice calls you over to the mat. he's the only one there. and it settles in.

you look over at Gaz and the look on his face is one of pity, your face drops.

it's not even 30 seconds into the round when you're already dropped to the ground. the mat feels like concrete when you hit your back on it.

"c'mon, get up." ghost says in an almost pissed off way.

you groan and roll over, quickly getting back up on your feet. "no mercy?" you ask in a huff. "you won't get mercy when you're fighting for your life in the field, you should know this, sergeant." he states dryly, but the way he said 'sergeant' sounded like an insult rolling off his tongue.

after 30 minutes of repeatedly losing, you admit defeat. but at least he stays with you after hours when the others have left, leaving you both alone so you don't have to keep losing in front of a crowd.

3 months of dry responses, frequent scoldings, straight-up constant attitude from the man and not many interactions besides from when he was ordering you around or lecturing you about a fuck up in training or on a mission.

and even though he wouldn't interact with you much, it somehow seemed that he was always on your ass, always watching to see what your next fuck up would be, always so observant. because why the hell were his eyes always on you? every time you'd glance over at him, he'd already be looking at you with that dark 1000-yard stare, arms crossed and sitting across any room you were in at the moment.

3 months is what it takes for him to not act like a complete brooding asshole towards you even for just a moment. reason? you saved his life.

sort of.

simon was clearing a wide area in a warehouse on a mission and it seems one of the men there seemed to blend in far better than anyone else could. Simon was almost too late, almost the one standing at the receiving end of a bullet to the head, but you had him. and you saved him.

neither of you thought too much about it though, after all, it is your job to have each other's backs in the field. he only gave you a gruff "thank you" when he brushed passed you towards the exit. but you took that thank you as a sign that he didn't absolutely despise you like you had thought he did for the past 3 months.

or so you thought. not much changed afterwards. but at least whenever you'd start a conversation, he'd just stare at you instead of walking off. but he'd always stay quiet. you wanted to give up, you should've given up. but something deep inside you had you pushing.

what it was wasn't so obvious at the time.

but that's probably because you were so oblivious.

you didn't know him like the boys did, you were new. so no one could've blamed you for not seeing the obvious frustration you caused him. soap on the other hand thought it was bloody comedic.

you always assumed the triple checks on your comms and positions were just because he didn't trust you enough to know what you were doing. because why would you think anything else with the way he behaved towards you?

the way he'd suddenly appear when a private was up and flirting with you. he'd come and scold you for having chitchat when you should've been doing paperwork, his jaw tensed. he'd look behind you to give the private a glare that you would've assumed was a 'get back to work' glare and not the threatening glare it actually was, because why would you think otherwise?

when you all went out to the pub for a drink after a long exhausting mission to relax a bit, but you hadn't had alcohol in so long so you didn't think to slow down, eventually blacking out on Simon's shoulder, and ending up in your quarters at the end of the night, boots off and snuggly tucked in under your sheets.

what you did notice is that you'd never be assigned to missions that ghost wasn't on. you caught on eventually but you never mentioned it, too annoyed with him to start an argument you knew you'd lose.

but when you're all at the pub on another night, soap and gaz over by the pool table, drunkenly betting against each other, and price long gone back to the base and having called it an early night, leaving the two of you at the table alone, it slips out.

he's been ignoring your attempted starts of a conversation all night, the alcohol had given you the motivation you needed to try again, but you've had enough of the silent treatment.

"hey, i've noticed I only go on missions that you're on.." he tenses. "'s that because you don't trust me? or somethin?"

he doesn't respond as per usual, and you know he's already annoyed with you but you keep pushing.

"you can be a real prick, y'know?" you mumble out, earning a side glance from him, his hand on the table, fingers tapping on his empty glass. he stays quiet.

"I just don't understand why you dislike me or whatever. I haven't done anything to you personally, I don't think.." you trail off, furrowing your brows as if in thought. he just stares down at you.

"you're a real pain in my ass" you then state rather confidently. he raises his brow at this before looking down at his empty glass and muttering a "Seems we've got that in common."

you roll your eyes and groan, moving to grab your beer but he moves it further up the table before you can reach it.

"hey-" you start but he interrupts, "you've 'ad enough." he grumbles out and you scoff, standing up from the chair and walking over to where Soap and Gaz are laughing it up with each other.

but maybe he's had a bit too much to drink too.

because the moment a man starts flirting with you at the bar, his hand just a bit too touchy, Simon appears, his hand is gripping the man's shoulder and pulling him back with an angered "back off."

you can't even manage out a "what the hell-?" before he's grabbing your bicep and dragging you out of the pub. you stop protesting rather quickly, too tired to continue. you just let him drag you all the way back to the base where he only lets go of you when he reaches the doorstep of your barracks building.

"sleep. now. don't wanna deal with your lazy tired ass tomorrow when you're moping around because you didn't get enough rest." he grunts out before abruptly turning in his place and leaving.

it's the next week when you're in the break room sitting across from Soap who's on his phone and drinking his coffee when you voice your troubles. "I can't deal with him anymore, Soap, really. he gives me such a hard time and I don't understand why," you practically whine to him.

"bloke doesn't know what to do with you when you practically give him a hard on all the time." he says it so plainly. as if it's a common fact, no big deal.

though you, of course, take it as a joke.

"Oh shut up, I'm serious." you groan through a chuckle and he just looks up at you and smirks before excusing himself to go back to his duties, leaving you there to mope at the wall.

the hell does that even mean?

luckily for you, you forget all about your short conversion in the break room, your mind too occupied from the busy week to care about a little dumb joke that soap told.

maybe you should've sat to think about said joke for longer.

you zone out while you do paperwork, your mind running on autopilot so that you don't pay attention to the time on the clock running past 11:30pm.

you hands hurt. your wrists hurt. and your back is sore from uncomfortably hunching over this old desk in this dinky chair that doesn't even spin properly.

you're too tired and too caught up in mentally complaining about everything to notice the tall figure standing in the doorway of the office you're working.

so when he speaks, voice baritone and accent thick, it scares the absolute living shit out of you. letting out a short yell and flinging your pen across the room, you look over at him.

you roll your eyes, too tired to even deal with him right now, preparing for him to lecture you about how sleeping late is bad for you even though literally everyone on base knows that he has the most fucked schedule of them all.

"I know it's late, I don't wanna hear it. this is the only free time I had to do this." you explain, your voice low and tired.

"didn't say anything." he responds and you glare up at him, and he knows.

he walks across the room and picks up the pen that you flung, his heavy steps making their way over to you and handing you back your pen.

he hasn't done or said anything threatening, so then why does it feel like he did?

you whisper a small 'thank you' before looking back down at your sheet and writing a few things down. he just stands there, staring down at your with crossed arms, observing. always observing. that's all he does. all he ever does.

you try to not let it get to you but he's just so intimidating.

you clench your jaw and breathe for a moment before focusing back on your paper. but just as you do that, he rounds the desk and stands behind your chair.

he grabs the chair, pulling it back a bit before his voice demands out, "stand,". you don't hesitate a moment before standing up quickly.

silence.

why does it feel like ages before he finally speaks??

"you're tense." he states and you furrow your brows because what the hell is happening. "y-yeah, I guess?"

the air is thick.

you're so caught up in empty thoughts that you don't hear what he says. "sorry, what'd you say?" you ask but it comes out a whisper without you intending for it to.

"may I?"

you're not sure what he means but you still slowly nod.

you suddenly freeze and your eyes go wide when you feel his palm wrap around your hair and move it to the side, his other hand resting in the crevice between your shoulder and neck, bare.

he's not wearing the glove.

his hand is warm when he suddenly squeezes you there, checking to see just how tense you are and your mind is blank. your thoughts have evaporated and you can't fucking move, because what the hell is happening!?

"why're you so bloody tense?" he asks, his voice so fucking deep that it makes your skin warm up. you've always hated the effect that his voice alone has on you.

'maybe because you're touching me?' is what you think to yourself.

"I don't know? work?" you sound so unsure of yourself that it feels embarrassing.

he mutters a quiet "yeah." while he continues to massage the area.

you wouldn't say this is a complete 180º from the way he's been treating you for the past couple months, but... this is a complete fucking 180º from the way he's been treating you these past couple months.

but you can't deny how fucking good it feels. his hands are so big and warm. the roughness of them surprisingly adding so much more to the massage and it feels so. good.

you can't help the slight moan that escapes your lips when you dip your head forward, giving him more space to work with.

ghost would halt his movements but that would only make you suspicious of what's happening to him behind you he clenches his jaw hard, his entire body tensing as he feels his pants grow tight and fuck is he fighting back a groan.

he did this to himself. he should've just minded his business and muttered an order to you like he usually would. he should've put up the asshole act instead of strolling in and offering a goddamn massage because he would never in his right mind actually do this.

he's barely slept for the past three days, so he doesn't really have control over his own actions, especially when it comes to you. it's always you that gets him like this, only you.

it's quiet for so long while he just massages your shoulders. usually It would be awkward, but this time it's just comfortable.

when he finishes, his hands remain and you start to actually snap back to reality on where you are, who's behind you, and what's going on. you don't move, hell you barely breathe. how could you when you could feel every breath he takes hit the skin on the back of your neck or how you can feel the heat radiating off of him while he stands behind you as if he's a human furnace or something.

there's always been tension. whether it was negative or positive, you were never completely 100% sure which. but it was always there. and it bothered the fuck out of the both of you.

you feel his thumb caress your nape. just a small movement. you wouldn't've noticed if you weren't hyper focused on every fibre of his being standing right behind you, not caring for your personal space despite him always getting pissed about not having enough of his own.

you don't know how to move on from this moment. there're no words in your mouth, your body frozen still under his gaze, under his touch.

you want to say something, anything. but you don't know what.

"ghost," you start, but he doesn't answer, he just rubs his thumb over again. "ghost." you try again.

silence.

"simon." he stops.

"what are you doing?" you turn your head to the side when you whisper this, looking at him stand behind you out the corner of your eye, and he stares right back.

after his silence, you go to move but he stops you, his hands grabbing your arms and keeping you in place. you go to shake him off but when you lean your body back, you feel something against your ass and your breath hitches.

he shuts his eyes and clenches his jaw, he knows you felt it, and he knows he's fucked when he lets out a quiet groan.

"it seems you’ve been stressed too..." you mumble out and his grip on you only tightens. you don't think before you nudge your ass against him again but with purpose and his breathing stutters.

"Don't." he demands through gritted teeth, but you only do it again and he doesn't stop you.

he then pushes you forward and you gasp, your crotch hitting the desk edge as you bend over the desk.

he doesn't do anything for a few moments as he thinks over what he's doing. he's your superior. this is wrong. so why does it feel so good to drag his hand down your back.

he then suddenly lets go of you and backs up, confusing you in the process. you stand back up and turn to stare at him, your brows furrowed and you open your mouth to speak but nothing comes out.

the way you look at him, it's as if there's hope in your eyes and that only spurs him on to do what he does next. he moves his hand up to raise the bottom of his mask up to rest just over his nose. he then quickly loops his arm around your waist and pulls you in for your lips to meet his in a kiss born off of sexual frustration.

you're quick to wrap one of your arms around his neck, not caring at all for what this means because god it feels so good.

he groans against your lips and pushes you back against the desk, lifting you a bit to sit you down on it before he mumbles against your lips.

"you gon' let me do this?"

the man, your lieutenant, your superior who you thought hated you so damn much for the longest time, is asking for your permission as his hand squeezes your thigh.

this is crazy. all of this is crazy. yet you nod.

he spreads your thighs with his hands and stands between them while his mouth moves from your lips down to your jaw and then to your neck, his lips hot and wet against you.

you let him push you back until your back is flat against the desk, his hand moving to grab your hip to keep you in place just as he likes while his other hand loops under the waist band of your pants and palms you over your panties.

you can't help but whimper when he does this which only turns him on more. and he grunts against your neck when he removes his hand only to grind his covered bulge against you.

you huff out as he continues to grind against you, growing in need when heat begins to pool in your core while his hands grip at you tightly as if you'd disappear if he let go. and he's not about to risk that when he finally has you right where he wants you.

you pull at his clothes, a whine slipping from your lips and he knows what you want. one of his hands moves to slide your shirt up your stomach and you let him. when he does get the shirt off of you, he doesn't even go to unclip your bra, instead his hand moves to grab the front of your bra and drags it down, your tits falling out.

he grabs one of your tits and mouths it, sucking, while his other hand moves to pull your pants down.

he backs up and fully pulls your pants off before he's back on you, mouth on your tit while his left hand plays with the other and his right hand slips under the fabric of your panties, feeling how soaked you are.

his thumb applies pressure on your clit which has you already gasping and arching into his touch.

he teases you a bit, wanting to see how desperate you'd get before he actually fucks you with his cock. he slips a digit in and groans against your nipple when he feels how your wet warmth clenches around just his finger.

he adds another and then another, wanting to stretch you out enough for him to squeeze in.

he curls and thrusts his fingers in you, getting to that spongey spot in you that has you moaning and throwing your head back against the desk, whining fro him to finally put it in.

"y'want me?" he asks but you can't even reply.

"I asked if y'want me, love." his voice is gravel when he repeats himself, wanting an answer out of you before he takes this further.

you nod, frantic and and grinding against his palm for more friction against your clit. "y-yes, yes sir, please-" you answer and he feels his cock twitch in his pants.

he moves his lips back up to your neck and removes his hands from you, undoing his pants and pulling himself out, precum beading at his red tip.

you whimper at the sight of it. it's obvious to see how big of a man simon is in general, he's huge. and it seems that so is everything else about him.

he doesn't bother to remove your panties as he's too impatient. instead he just moves them to the side, his finger running down your slit before he brings it to his mouth to get a taste of you, letting out a satisfied hum.

he then brings his hand up to you and orders, "spit", and you do.

he pumps himself a few times to wet it before he aligns with your slit and you inhale when he starts to push in, stretching you out so perfectly for him. so fucking big.

he takes his time pushing into you, his warm breath against your neck when he groans as he bottoms out, deep inside you. “so fucking tight…” he groans through gritted teeth.

you clench around him, your hands slipping under the fabric of his shirt and your nails clawing at the skin on his back, wanting him to move already as you grow impatient and needy.

he does just that, drawing his hips back before thrusting back into you resulting in a yelp from you. and he doesn't stop.

his pace is already above slow and picking up with each time he hammers back into you, curses and moans falling from his lips like he's in heaven, because he is.

your lips meet his again and you moan into his mouth with each thrust. he makes out with you like a man starved, like he's been wanting this for so long…you under him while he fucks into you like it's the last thing he'll ever do.

the only sounds in the room being the squelching of your pussy as he thrusts into you and both of your moans. if anyone was walking down the hallway at this hour which is unlikely, they'd most definitely hear what you two are doing.

he moves his hand down and presses his thumb to your clit while he continues to fuck into you, rubbing it in circles which has you crying out through moans, tears of pleasure threatening to spill out the corners of your eyes.

your breathing becomes ragged as your back arches deeper into him, your hips bucking against his to meet his pace while he groans and nips at the skin on your neck, “takin’ me so well… s’ fuckin good f’me…” he moans and it sets your skin on fire.

he's close and so are you.

your fingers move under the back of the mask to pull at his short hair and he let's you do it, trusting you to not pull the mask off.

your lips against his ear, letting him hear all your pretty sounds and it only drives him further, his pace keeping steady, knowing just what you need when you moan out "i'm close..so close.." and he knows it too as he feels you clench tightly around him.

he surprises you when he places his thumb in your mouth when you moan, flattening it against your tongue and grunting a “open f’me, yeah?” and you do without hesitation, opening your mouth nice and wide enough for him to spit on your tongue. he doesn’t even have to tell you to swallow before you do it automatically, earning a smirk from him before he kisses you again.

the combination of his thumb rubbing in circles against your clit and him hammering into you has your body stuttering and spasming, feeling like you're getting possessed as you let out a strangled and broken quiet scream as you finally come undone beneath him, your vision going for a few moments while he fucks you through your orgasm.

you continue to moan when he keeps pumping into you after your orgasm, chasing his own high while he grunts out "'m gonna come... gonna come on your tummy, love.." before he quickly pulls out of you, leaning back up and pumping his cock a few times before he releases his load on your stomach followed by his heavy breaths.

he stares at you for a moment, his chest rising and lowering in heavy breaths before he leans over you to grab the tissue box in the corner of the desk and wipes his cum off of you.

he puts your panties back in place and steps back, handing you your pants. he shoves his cock back into his pants and then watches you pull yours back on, his arms crossed.

now that the foggy feeling in your mind is gone, you're shy as you stand under his gaze.

you just fucked your lieutenant.

he licks his lip before pulling the mask back down and sitting back onto the chair. you're confused for a moment before he nods his head in the direction of the door and mutters a "go t'sleep. it's late."

you look at the door and then back at him, furrowing your brows in confusion. "but my paperwork-" he interrupts you before you can finish your sentence. "I'll do your paperwork. now go to bed. tha's an order." he instructs and you stand there absolutely dumbfounded before you actually register his words.

you slowly nod and he clenches his jaw before he looks at the short stack of paperwork on the side of the desk, grabbing one and beginning to work on it, but you're still there.

"thought I told you t-" he pauses when you lean down to place a kiss on the fabric over where his temple is, taking him by surprise as it shuts him up.

you then give him a sweet smile, your hand sliding down his muscular arm before you turn around and walk out the small office, leaving him to do your paperwork after he fucked you so well just a moment ago on that very desk.

horny brain = ©simonsslut 2023 — do not steal!

simon experiencing blue balls too many times in secret bc he's stubborn.

[riality-check]

Steve, realistically, shouldn’t even be at this show. He doesn’t care about the band, he didn’t want to make the drive, and he had to bring Anna along because he couldn’t find a babysitter.

But he was going to suck it up to go with Dustin, who immediately bought tickets to see his favorite band when they went on sale. Who called Steve this morning to inform him, somehow both solemnly and frantically, that he had the worst food poisoning known to man, and, that until he stopped puking and shitting at the same time, he could not leave the bathroom.

Steve very much did not need to know that.

With Dustin went the rest of the Babysitters’ Club, all of them having eaten the same shady pizza and suffering the consequences. The only exception was Mike, lactose intolerant but cursed to take care of his idiot friends.

He texted Steve to ask if he had extra bleach. Steve dropped it outside the house because no way in hell was he entering that building.

Dustin assured him, amidst too much detail and shockingly disgusting background noise, that both tickets shouldn’t go to waste, and with no one able to babysit Anna, Steve should take advantage of both.

So, here he is. Standing in the first level - Dustin couldn’t get floor tickets, thank God - of a show for a metal band he has no intention of ever listening to and holding his four-year-old daughter, who has bright pink ear defenders looped around her neck in preparation for when it gets really, really loud.

“When are they starting?” she asks for the fourth time in as many minutes, with a sigh too big for her little body.

“In a few minutes,” Steve says, keeping an eye on the stage, where he watches the crew set up. Mad respect for them hustling so hard. He could never.

The seats are slowly filling up, and Steve feels a little sad for the first opener, a little sad that they don’t have a full house for their set.

A group of four guys takes the seats right next to Steve, with a pale, long-haired, big-eyed guy right next to him. He’s got tattoos on his arms and rings on all his fingers and a silver bar through his upper ear.

And he’s arguing emphatically with his friend next to him.

“I’m telling you, American Psycho is more recognizable!” he says, hands flying. Steve discreetly makes sure he and Anna aren’t within striking distance. “Not to mention cheaper!”

“A prop chainsaw,” his friend - a short white guy with shorter but equally wild hair - says, “can’t possibly be that hard to find by tomorrow.”

“We already have the axe!”

“I’m with Eddie,” the big white guy at the end of their group says. “I’m a sucker for American Psycho.”

“Okay, but I’m the guy who has to use the props,” the fourth friend, a Black guy with short braids who looks annoyed at this conversation, like they’ve had it before. “And I think I’d have more fun with the chainsaw.”

Eddie - the guy with long hair and heavy jewelry and hands with a mind of their own - rolls his eyes. It’s a full body movement, one that has him spinning to face Steve. When he does, his face cycles through a myriad of emotions too fast for Steve to really track.

“Hi, pretty boy,” he says. His eyes then dart down to Anna, who stares at him with her head cocked to the side. “Pretty dad. Dad. Pretty. Hi.”

“Eddie,” the short guy cautions.

“Yeah, sorry, anyway, can you be a tiebreaker for us?”

“Sure,” Steve says. Anna squirms, so he lets her out of his lap to stand, holding her hand all the while. “What do you need?”

“American Psycho or Texas Chainsaw Massacre?” the big guy asks.

“You gotta give him context.”

“No, I don’t, Jeff.”

The guy who said he’d be using the props - whatever that means - rolls his eyes and stops fighting.

“What’s American Psycho?” Anna asks, choosing the best time to pay attention to the conversation, like always.

“A movie you’re too young to see,” Steve says. “And the one I’m picking out of those two.”

“Oh, thank you,” Eddie says, using a tone that better fits Steve saving his drowning dog or something. He then turns to the rest of his friends and says, “I fucking told you!”

Anna gasps. “You’re not s’posed to say that!”

Jeff smothers a laugh behind his hands, while the other three guys stare at Anna, half confused, half admiring.

Eddie clears his throat, looking significantly abashed. "Sorry, Miss-"

"Anna," she says.

"Anna," Eddie finishes. Then he turns to Steve. "And you are?"

"Steve. No Mister for me though. I might be a dad, but I'm not that old."

"You are old, Daddy," Anna says.

Steve frowns down at her, where she stands at his feet. She's smiling, mischievous like she always is when she says something along these lines. "I'm not that old."

"Yeah you are! You're like, you're like, like, fifteen."

Jeff gives up on hiding his laughter.

"I'm older than fifteen," Steve says gently, trying not to laugh.

Anna’s jaw drops. “You are?”

“Thank God for that,” Eddie mutters, then shuts his jaw with an audible click.

Steve tried to come up with an answer for that, but someone comes on a mic and starts playing the drums, so he moves the defenders over Anna’s ears and pays attention to the show instead.

It's... fun, he guesses. Fun if he were into it, maybe. The first opener has a lot of energy, even if the music isn't melodic enough for Steve's taste. He finds himself tapping along to the steady beat, moving slightly in his seat to the music.

It's nice background noise. He'd put this on while he grades papers. It's steady enough to fill his head but doesn't have a whole lot of lyrics he could get distracted by and sing along to.

Eddie and his friends, meanwhile, are having the time of their lives. The short guy - Gareth, Steve thinks his name is - mimes the drum part of each song with startling accuracy. Archie jumps up and down, Jeff absolutely screams along, and Eddie-

Anna stares up at Eddie, eyes wide and jaw slacked as she watches him bang his head to the music.

Steve almost snaps a picture of it, this little moment, before the second song ends and Eddie snaps out of his zone.

He shakes the hair out of his face, then looks down at Anna, who's still staring at him. "What?"

She cocks her head to the side in a mirror of his. "What was that?"

"What was what?"

"The," she pauses, then starts shaking her head really hard, side to side. Steve puts a hand on her shoulder before she slams into the chairs in the row in front of them.

Eddie laughs. "The headbanging?"

"Yeah," Anna says, nodding.

"It's a way I move to the music," Eddie explains.

"Like dancing?"

"Sort of," Eddie says. "It's easier. I look stupid when I dance."

"You're not s'posed to say that," Anna tells him solemnly. "Right, Daddy?"

Steve meets Eddie's eyes. Even with the lights down, they're big and pretty and reflective, and Steve is going to kick himself so hard if he chickens out before he can get his number.

"Right," he says, still looking at Eddie. "We're not supposed to call ourselves stupid."

"Sorry," Eddie whispers.

"Don't be."

Anna tugs on Steve's hand, then Eddie's. "Teach me."

"Anna," Steve cautions.

"Can you please teach me?" she corrects.

Eddie glances down at Anna, then back up at Steve. "If it's-"

"Go ahead," Steve says because Eddie has more than passed the vibe check at this point.

Eddie crouches down as a new song starts up, and while Steve can't hear what he's telling her, he sees her smile, bright as day.

By the last song of the first opener, Anna is headbanging along with Eddie, off-beat in the say little kids always are but more than making up for it with effort.

Steve gives into the impulse to take a picture.

When the first opener finishes, Steve picks Anna back up and takes her ear defenders off.

"Woah," she says. "Can I keep them-"

"Nope," Steve says. "They stay on when the music is on. You heard it fine, didn't you?"

"Yeah, but you-"

"I have my earplugs in," Steve says, pointing at them.

"So do I," Eddie says, and when he moves his hair back, sure enough, there are black earplugs nestled in his ears.

"You don't seem like the kind of guy to wear earplugs," Steve says.

"You don't seem like the kind of guy to come of a metal show," Eddie counters.

Anna climbs out of Steve's arms and onto his back, where she loops her arms around his shoulders and just hangs, like she does sometimes when she gets bored.

Weirdo kid, Steve thinks affectionately.

"That's because I'm not," Steve says. "I was supposed to come with a friend, but he got sick."

"Yikes," Eddie says. "You coming tomorrow, too?"

"I am," Steve says. "Are you?"

Eddie raises his eyebrows, like he didn't expect Steve to ask that. "Yeah, we'll be here. Not in these seats, though."

The lights go back down before Steve can ask what he means by that. He reaches behind him, scoops Anna back down on the ground, and puts her ear defenders on by the time the second opener strikes a scary-sounding opening chord.

Anna doesn't look scared at all. From the moment the music starts, she looks up at Eddie, and when he starts headbanging, she does, too.

Yup. Steve has effectively created a monster.

He contemplates, if Dustin is fine by tomorrow, skipping out on the show and giving his ticket to Anna, but that means not seeing Eddie again.

He really wants to see Eddie again, even if he won’t have the same seats.

Whatever that means.

Steve decides not to focus on that. He decides instead to focus on the moment. He listens to the music. He lets Anna take his hand and dance with it. He bops his head along with hers, but not too hard because he can’t risk aggravating his whiplash.

He enjoys the show, even if it’s not his cup of tea. It’s easy to enjoy the show, with Eddie next to him. It’s easy to enjoy his wild hair and pretty jewelry and big eyes and contagious enthusiasm.

It’s easy to see the way Eddie looks at him.

It’s also very easy, after the venue clears and Anna falls asleep in the car on the way home, to forget to ask for his number.

Shit.

(Part 2 is alive!!)

[avocado-writing]

For the bg3 requests how about the companions realizing they love tav in the middle of a battle(love your work!!!)

partner piece to this!

Astarion

realises when he sees you cut down someone in battle to save him.

you don’t think twice about beheading the cultist, or shooting them full of a magic missile, or stabbing them in the guts from the shadows - whatever you do is equally wonderful.

his eyes go wide as he watches you make the killing blow. warm blood spatters on his face and, when you shout to ask if he’s alright, his heart does a funny little dance in his chest.

he’s alright. he’s the most alright that he’s ever been, actually

kisses you suddenly, the taste of the kill dancing between your lips, and stares at you very sincerely.

“I love you.” then back to the battle before you can press it any further.

Gale

if you’re a spell caster, he falls for you because of your capability using magic. you have a knack for it he finds delightful.

the twirl of your hands, soft speaking as you recite verbal components, all of it - it’s all perfect.

he stares at you, distracted for a moment, and then gets a club in the side of the head and is catapulted back to battle.

if you’re not a mage then it’s when you do something he taught you, silencing an enemy wizard by cutting them off when you realise a somatic component. you shoot him a thumbs up and he feels his whole face go bright red.

you listen to him. you care about him. and he loves you.

Wyll

you’re fighting back-to-back, fending off enemies as they charge towards you, yelling out directions for the other one to be watching.

“wyll! big guy on your left!”

he turns and stabs, running through an orc, and hears you laugh from the exhilaration of battle.

he realises then how much he loves you, how he’d never have any other life than this heart-pounding, blood-pumping excitement with you; and he’d do anything to keep you safe.

there’s no time for him to confess right now… but he does reach behind himself to give your free hand a little squeeze with his. just so you know. just so he can come back to it and confess later.

Karlach

raging, so it’s less her thinking through it and more a series of realisations which come to her all at once.

you: fighting. you: protecting. you: protecting her. you: capable. you: loveable.

oh, it all slips into place. she can’t do anything about it right now because her axe is buried in the face of an ogre, but after the battle when she’s calmed down she seeks you out.

is a bit awkward about it, finds reasons to be near you, but you manage to work out what it is she is desperate to say.

give her a kiss, and she squeals with excitement. she thinks you’re just perfect!

Lae’zel

ahh, lae’zel. would she fall for you at any other time?

has always watched your form in battle but there’s something about today, this fight. she can’t keep her eyes off of you.

you are flawless. perfect. dispatching enemies with ease.

she realises she feels not just fondness for you, but love. something she did not believe that she’d ever experience.

she is a little distracted and gets hit, but that just makes her focus back on the battle. you check in with her afterwards and she brushes you off, stomping away to go and mull her feelings over.

is… scared to confess to you. may do it one day. not today.

Shadowheart

runs over to heal you during a battle, your wounds are great, but you shake her off:

”you’re in far worse condition than me! heal yourself first!”

she realises how hurt she is for the first time. she sort of learned to deal with the pain as she was raised sharran, but… you’re the one who’s taken notice of her. nobody has ever done that.

suddenly she is overwhelmed with feelings for you. she’d been soft for you before, but now she is overwhelmed with emotion.

she does heal herself, and then you - luxuriating in the feel of your skin under her hands.

Halsin

he’s already fond of you, but the thing that really gets him is during one particular battle.

you’re fighting and he can see you’re doing your best to protect something behind you from your assailants. during a moment when an enemy is down he sees what’s behind you: a baby boar, terrified.

not the most pleasant creature, covered in mud and squealing, but you still are attempting to shield it from the battle, and when the fight is over he sees you use magic to talk to it and calm it down, check it over for wounds.

he realises how smitten he is with you in that moment. how much you care. you are perfect, and he wants to spend his life with you.

Minthara

probably falls for you during an act of violence, a particularly bloody kill.

you show no mercy to your opponent, opening them from throat to navel, eyes bright as you see them bleed out.

you are an angel of death, vicious and proud. you smile at your kill and minthara finds herself smiling too.

charming. you are charming, and that’s all there is too it. she smiles through the rest of the battle at the thought of you.

[charliedawn]

Can you write about the slashers finding out the nurse has a stalker? (That isn't them lol)

(Hi ! Sorry for the absence everyone. It has been a really busy year for me. But here you go ! Thank you for the request !)

Jack is usually pretty chill. He wouldn’t do anything at first if he saw the stalker didn’t bother anyone. But, if he saw that the stalker was starting to get a little too annoying ? He would make him get the message.

Jack would drape an arm over your shoulders and give the stalker the ‘Get out of my face’ look.

And if he still didn’t get the message ?

Then the stalker would unfortunately find his way down a flight of stairs—the express way.

You were sleeping when you heard someone open your window. You immediately turned on your lamp, but was surprised to find Patrick Bateman standing in the middle of your room.

He was covered in blood and lit up a cigar.

He took a deep puff and exhaled loudly.

You waited a few minutes before asking what he was doing here and why he was covered in blood. To which, he took his time to answer.

Patrick: "I apologise. I found a cockroach at your window."

You *look him up and down suspiciously*: "…Must have been one hell of a cockroach, huh ?"

Him *smirks* : "One BIG cockroach."

Bo: "Ssh…You the one who likes followin’ Nurse Y/N around, huh ? Ssh…Come on. We wouldn’t want to wake them up with your pussy screams, right ?" *proceeds to bust the stalker’s kneecaps*

Bo is the type of man to take action. He wouldn’t wait or warn you about the problem—but he would take care of it. Because he likes to be the man of the situation, the one who takes care of business and makes sure no one would be stupid enough to bother you.

So, let us just say that the stalker unfortunately didn’t make it.

"Oh oh oh. Naughty naughty stalker. You are one fffffunny human, ain’t ya ?!"

You woke up the next day with a pool of blood next to your bed. When you asked Penny about it, he replied with a large smile that he had a midnight snack.

You told Norman and asked for his opinion on what to do. He asked you to explain exactly what was happening and remained with a polite smile on his face as you proceeded to explain everything.

Once you were done, he still had a smile on his face. He wordlessly stood up, rolled up his sleeves and left for a couple of minutes before returning with an axe.

Your eyes widened and you tried to stop him, but too late. He stepped outside, knowing your stalker was probably waiting for you to get out of the house. The stranger was surprised when he saw Norman leave. It didn’t take Norman long to spot the stalker and without his smile leaving his face, he walked towards the stalker and swung his axe—barely missing the top of the stalker’s head.

"…If my baby girl/boy ever tells me you have been following her/him again…I won’t miss."

And with that, Norman went back into the house—humming a happy tune…while the stalker was left on the ground with his pants soiled upon having the scare of his life.

Pennywise was being his usual annoying and sarcastic self when he noticed someone following you from a distance. He didn’t care at first…not until he read the guy’s thoughts. And what he found in there ? It was enough to make his usual smile falter.

After that day, he decided to teach the guy a lesson. He hence took your appearance for a day and lured your stalker away from anywhere where they could be seen. And when he was sure there was no one around ? He took back his appearance and in one second, gulped down the stalker.

Literally.

No more stalker. Pennywise didn’t even leave the bones behind.

Brahms noticed from the start. Of course he did. Brahms used to be a stalker himself. But, your stalker was not a professional stalker and Brahms didn’t take him all that seriously at first. Besides, who was he to judge ?

But then…He hurt you. He took pictures of you. He kept them to himself, and Brahms felt as if it was getting exhausting for you.

And Brahms could not take it anymore.

One night as you were sleeping, the stalker crept into your room as per usual, but Brahms was waiting for him this time. And before he could approach your bed, Brahms took the stranger by the neck and held him above the ground. The stranger’s feet kicked the air…until they didn’t move at all.

Brahms let his body fall to the floor. He then proceeded to drag him out of your room—unaware that you had been awake the whole time. You closed your eyes and let go of the knife you had been clenching in your hand.

…

Jason noticed that one of the nurses was following you around. At first, he didn’t do anything as it seemed that you weren’t all that bothered by it. But then, he realised that you weren’t smiling as often anymore and that you would occasionally take pills to help with the tiredness (having a stalker meant really little sleep since you knew they were watching you.)

And finally, the stalker hurt you. He saw a bruise around your wrist and that…That he couldn’t handle.

At his arrival in St Louis, his machete was confiscated, but he was hired by a domestic furniture company to do mandatory work. And guess what is in high supply in his place of work ? That’s right. Wood and nails. Jason built himself a wooden mace with nails. Poor stalker ended up in a ditch around the hospital…his whole body smashed and mushed.

The moment Michael Myers would get a whiff of that stalker near you, he would become a permanent wall between you and the stalker. Your own watcher and bodyguard. The stalker would become the observed. Michael wouldn’t sleep or eat while the stalker is still there. And the moment they would meet ? Myers would make him regret ever being birthed into the same world as him…

[hederasgarden]

Hiya! David!clark with prompt 2 from your list pretty please w the juiciest cherry on top! SMOOCHES TO YOUUU

Smooches to you as well, anon!! This was such a cute drabble request!

Pairing: David!Clark Kent x F!Reader Word Count: 532 Rating: Gen. This is pure fluff with the prompt, Wait a minute. Are you jealous? A/N: Thank you to @ryebecca for looking this over! Please comment or reblog if you enjoyed this and want to see more. Or scream at me in my inbox. That always makes my day.

Masterlist ♡ David Corenswet Characters Masterlist

“And, anyway,” Clark continues, fumbling with the stack of papers in his hands. “I really don’t think it’s a good idea to meet him alone. Someone should come with you. Just for safety, you know? You can never be too careful.”

You raise an eyebrow. “It’s a date, Clark. Not some shady source for a story. You’re acting like I’m meeting a criminal kingpin.”

He frowns, pushing his glasses back up his nose in a familiar gesture you’ve seen him do a hundred times. “That’s not what I meant at all. I’m just saying, you don’t know this guy. He could be anyone. He could be an axe murderer, for all we know.”

It’s only the worried crease between his brow and the genuine concern you see in his eyes that keep you from laughing at how seriously he’s taking this.

“He’s friends with Jimmy,” you remind him, giving his very firm, muscly shoulder a reassuring squeeze. 

“How well does Jimmy actually know this guy?” Clark questions. “Are they actual friends, or more like ‘a friend of a friend’ kind of situation?”

“I think they play pickleball together?” you say, though you can’t fully remember. Jimmy tended to ramble a lot and well, truth be told, sometimes you tuned him out. “Or maybe it was D&D? I’m not sure which one it is, but he’s definitely not some random weirdo. Just a nerd.”

“I should talk to Jimmy,” Clark says with a nod like he hasn’t even heard you. 

Before he can walk past, you stop him with a firm hand on his chest, your fingertips grazing the crisp, starchy white shirt he’s wearing. 

“Wait a minute. What’s going on?” You question. 

Clark may have had the reputation of the office big brother, always looking out for everyone, but this was something else. It felt different. It felt like he liked you.

No.

That couldn’t be right. He was so wildly out of your league and that thought sounded insane, even to your own ears. But as you study his face, you catch the way his eyes flick away from yours for just a beat too long, the briefest hesitation, and how his hand tightens around the stack of papers, his knuckles whitening.

“Are you jealous?” The words slip out before you can stop them. You wince, wishing you could swallow them back up when you see the tips of Clark’s ears turn red. He opens his mouth, then closes it, before tugging on his collar. 

“Oh,” you whisper. 

“Is that a good oh?” Clark asks you, looking almost nervous. 

“Oh,” you say again like an idiot as your brain tries to catch up with the sharp left turn this conversation has taken. Clark Kent liked you. Like actually liked you. 

"I do," Clark murmurs, and it takes a second to realize you must have said that last part out loud.

“Well, I should probably cancel that date then,” you tell him.

“And I should probably ask you out,” he replies, glancing around the bullpen before stepping closer. 

“Yeah,” you agree, getting a little lost in how blue his eyes are. 

“Will you -”

“Yes,” you interrupt.

He laughs and you grin.

Send me a request

[cjlouwho]

I made a little bucktommy fic based off of this post from yesterday (read here or on ao3)

Husbands

There had been a big fire, taking out the top eight floors of a high rise. There were multiple stations involved, including the 118 and Harbor, ground and air support, to get the fire under control and everyone out safely.

It took more than a few hours, but eventually the fire was out and everyone was getting their gear in order to head back to their respective stations.

As Buck organized the tools in the truck, a small group of friends, two guys and two girls, in their mid-twenties Buck assumed, gathered around him.

It had started with little comments; a guy asked what the axe was used for, a girl batted her eyelashes as she touched his turnouts because she “always wondered what the material felt like”, another girl asked how much water could be stored in the truck.

Buck liked talking. He liked answering questions and telling people what he did. He leaned against the firetruck as they chatted, until about five minutes in one of the guys sighed and got to the point. “We're honestly just wondering if one of us could get your number? Or all of us. Doesn't really matter.”

Buck paused. It wasn't that he didn't enjoy getting hit on. He enjoyed it quite a bit, actually. It was always nice to know when someone found you attractive.

Getting hit on was fun. Getting people's numbers was fun. But, there was something else that was even funner now. He'd been able to do it for exactly three months, to the day. Not that he wasn't flashing his ring beforehand, but something about being married sounded even better than being engaged.

“Sorry, guys,” Buck said, smiling as he lifted his left hand into view, “Im flattered, but I'm married.”

As some disappointed, and some still interested, looks broke out over the group, a familiar voice sounded behind Buck. “Damn, I was just about to shoot my shot.”

A blush rose on Buck's face as Tommy passed by. He was working ground ops today, and Buck knew he was around, but this was the first he'd seen of him. “Yeah, you wish, Kinard,” he called back, causing Tommy to turn back around to him.

He shrugged, smirking. “A guy can dream, can't he?” he asked with a wink, continuing backwards toward his truck.

It was only once Tommy was out of view that Buck realized the group was still there, staring between Buck and the direction Tommy went with confusion on their faces.

“Oh, uh, that- that's my husband.”

His smile grew as he watched the realization hit the group. They didn't stand a chance.

“Forget it,” one girl mumbled as they all started to disperse.

“They're both so hot, what the hell?” one guy whispered, albeit loudly, to his friend.

“And unbelievably corny,” the friend said back, not even trying to be quiet. “Makes me wanna gag.”

Buck rolled his eyes, shaking his head as he pushed himself up from where he was leaning on the firetruck. He began walking in the direction Tommy had gone, needing to see him before his station left.

“Get any numbers, hot stuff?” Tommy's voice made Buck jump. He was situated between two trucks and, from the looks of it, had just finished pouring a bottle of water over his head to clean himself off.

Buck's shoulders relaxed as he walked over to Tommy. “No, I did not,” he said cheekily. “You wanna know why?”

“Hmm?”

“Because my husband interrupted. He didn't say it, but I got the feeling he wants to keep me to himself.”

“The nerve of that guy.” Tommy moved closer to Buck, his hands coming up to grip onto the sides of Buck's turnouts. “Can't say I blame him though.” He spoke quietly, staring between Buck's eyes and lips, “He does have a really hot husband.”

Buck put his hand at the nape of Tommy's neck, closing the space between them as he pulled him in for a kiss. He had no concern for the fact he was getting soot right back on Tommy's clean face. Payback.

“Can you bring your turnouts home?” Buck asked, leaning back just enough to speak.

Tommy laughed, his face scrunching up into that deep smile that made Buck melt. “This really does something for you, doesn't it?”

“Every damn time.”

Another kiss, this one slower and softer. A promise of what's to come when they're both off shift in a few hours. “I'll figure out a way.”

[robolvrr]

Hi! I’m 19 just to clarify in case of anything.

Can I request HCS for TFA Optimus and Megatron with a childish human female reader, that basically yaps a lot and is energetic asf?

I was also wondering if you could make a NSFW version too? Tysm☺️🙏💕

hey non! gladly. 🤖

nsfw under the cut.

all charged up! ⊰⁠⊹ฺ⚡

tfa! optimus & megatron headcanons for a childish/energetic reader (fem! human)

"no, don't touch that. wh -- no, don't touch that either! oh, by the allspark, hellooo!"

optimus prime

remember when i said optimus stressed out protecting humanity?

yeah, this was primarily the source of why.

he's always got tons of responsibility placed on his shoulders.

his team, for one, is always managing to get themselves into trouble and while he cares for them deeply, he's gonna start gaining faceplate dents like ratchet.

so when you get fumbled in the crew? he thinks that maybe karma is out to get him from some past transgression.

"can i touch that?"

"no."

"how about.. this!"

"wh-- no. are you trying to lose one of those things?"

"fingers?"

"not the point. it's an axe, not a toy."

he chides you just like everyone else out of love.

if he didn't care (which just isn't in his circuits, is there a rusted piston anywhere in that heroic frame?) he'd let you go wild.

when the threat of death isn't looming though?

finds your characteristics to be rather charming. he is after all familiar with bee and the twins and sari.

you have a strange way of encouraging him to relax, believe it or not. remind him life isn't just work and balancing the universe in his servos.

when he isn't in a mood, he likes to listen to you ramble.

you have a unique perspective. like how you talk to him for hours about how you thought ghosts were real and ask silly questions about his culture like "do you guys eat rocks?"

he goes to you the most to consult about earth.

hyperfixations? he may not understand a lick of yours or just what "my little pony was and how it changed the internet for years to come", but he lets you animatedly describe every thought on every inch of your brain.

let's you sit on his shoulders.

similar to your planet, you've gotten him warmed up to you.

"just how much longer do you plan on prattling, little one?"

megatron

he's mean.

i mean, what do you expect from an galactic warlord?

not to say he doesn't find amusement in the behavior. his lackeys frequently argue and get into ridiculous situations and arguments on a cycles basis.

however, he doesn't like organics. given his predicament, fiending without the power of a frame to push his narratives for so long builds resentment.

at first he finds you an absolute nuisance. you were really a comment away from having shockwave get a hold of you instead.

he's kidnapped you from the autobots because similar to that meddlesome doctors offspring, they clearly hold high regards for you.

you just didn't stop talking.

yes, you got the large glass jar treatment.

yes, he did rattle it once when you asked him if "decepticons sounded like band name."

when he's feeling boredom, he'll demand you try to say anything interesting.

he holds little regard to your feelings. though he does find the need, almost craving, for you to constantly be restless.... somewhat entertaining.

think of how one looks at a mangy mutt. (isn't he a gentlemech?!)

nsfw.

optimus prime

"hahhh.. hff. just h-how long can you keep up this pace, haha!?"

you have the libido of a bunny.

optimus learns the hard way, when you first start to get intimate.

you're eager -- you both are -- but he finds your wandering hands to be almost overwhelming as you just can't keep still.

you ask him lots and lots of questions. how big is he? can you lick his valve? are those fluids toxic? do you need to get protection?

his helm is hot to the touch. he ends up putting his digit in your mouth as a distraction.

interfacing with you is never slow. it's why he has to concentrate every control filter to not slamming into you when you claw at his array and whine at him to stop being a bully.

he's about to correct you but of course, you're talking. his audials are close to setting on fire.

you shove yourself on his spike and he bites his dermas hard, because you're just so eager and he's way too big. just the tip is enough to create a bulge at your mound and suddenly, his intake feels very, very dry.

you're so talkative. too talkative.

"ha... mmn! your spike is so, so good! i-i can't believe i'm doing this! sex with a giant. ahn! robot!!! this is the best day of my life!"

his optics are burning and bright. your excitement drips down his shaft.

when the compliments get to be too much, he ends up grabbing your wrists and pinning them behind you, bouncing your body against his hips.

he silences you a lot with kisses. not out of annoyance (though sometimes you do get too loud and he's not trying to risk waking up the entire base), but because you fluster him so damn bad.

when he overloads and you're squealing, he lifts you up just to see the sticky transfluid roll down your ankles.

".... another round?"

"another!?"

megatron

"not so chatty now, are you little one?"

megatron's cruelty does not stop at the berthroom.

his way of dealing with your nonstop buzzing? is to simply frag it out of you.

it's painfully indulgent. you're the size of nothing compared to him, a behemoth of a being outside your comprehension. he treats you like a sleeve.

you ask the stupid notion if maybe he needed to get his frustration out in a more "fun" way.

then maybe he wouldn't be so gloomy all the time!

the look he gives is terrifying. that smile isn't helping either....

all that energy and innocent glee? he plans on putting to good use.

now, he finds your cherub nature enchanting. how you whine and chirp out silly protests, huffing how he's just a "big, bad meanie" and you were gonna "make him regret it, so help it!"

"yesss, yesss. cry harder, little human."

takes you from behind so he can stick a single digit in the pocket of your cheek. you loll your tongue out in a way he finds appealing and stupid.

when you go on rambles amidst his planning, primarily when you are bored and lonely, don't be surprised if he opens his panels at your chin and pops it in between your lips.

"am... i... ffff.. a-am i gonna get pregnant with your little ro--"

"don't finish that imbecilic question unless you want this to be the last time, girl."

megatron's human concubine. there's a first time in history for everything, after all.

deep down? he doesn't want you to change a bit. he rather likes breaking you down.

[mutualcombat]

bg3 kinktober day 18 - body worship

from this prompt list!

word count: 1.3k

rating: explicit

pairing: (spawn) astarion/fem!tav (oc - adriannu)

additional tags: postgame. body worship, but with a vampire spin on it (BLOOD WORSHIP?) aggressive scent kink. astarion being a creature and thinking nasty, creature thoughts. cumplay, sort of (i told you guys).

anyway, im sorry

Astarion curls around his wife like a cool shadow, sealing his chest against her back. His arms smooth over hers, bicep to bicep, forearm to forearm, hips and thighs caging her body firmly. He finds her hands, but as he moves to hold them, she’s turning hers over to lace their fingers, locking their palms. 

It’s as disconcerting to be away from each other just as it is to be in such close proximity without the chance to speak, to brush an elbow even. They’d more or less spent the evening like celestial bodies, spinning on their axes yet never touching.  

Now that they’re alone again, the pair fall into silence as Astarion’s desire leads. He sweeps his thighs up under her knees, brazenly stretching her legs wide.

After giving her hands a reassuring squeeze, his retreat to stroke the swell of her hips and thighs, to palm her knees before dragging them back up her body to rub and squeeze at her breasts. With his focus entirely on the task at hand, he doesn’t leave any part of her untouched.

They both adore this; the closeness, the drawn-out touching. She’s often sore after a day like this, and though she finds his touch a welcome comfort, she's brave to offer her skin knowing just how shamefully greedy he is tonight.

And tonight, he shows her just how much he needs in the pinches and pulls, the rubbing and kneading of his fingers. Though for her sake, he tries to keep the claws under control.

Adriannu's head falls back against his shoulder. Can’t help the soft little breaths and the way her toes flex and curl. He’s sure she can feel his eager little ruts against her, his cock rubbing firmly between her backside and his belly.

He returns to her breasts, working her nipples with the pads of thumbs, until she finally surrenders a mewl and a quiet, breathy utterance of his name that breaks the silence like wonderful magic.  

With that, he zeroes in and firmly overstays his welcome, groping her breasts as she begins to twist and her thighs shake in protest. A shiver and a gasp, she throws her head back against his shoulder again in muted prayer, beseeching the powers that be to sate her need, and bring an end to this carnal torture at the hands of her vampire lover. Her unlikely husband.

A hazy, libidinous thought crosses Astarion’s mind as he notes her slick, so generously spread over the bedlinens, that it wouldn’t be so bad if he never washed them again.

Ah, she wouldn’t like that though, would she?

Then he ought to have her like this as often as possible, he surmises.

But how wonderful would it be to have a niche to return to when work took his love away? A little nest that smelled of her even at their most intimate, when the tired notes of her manufactured soap faded and only the heady, natural scent of her remained. Just for him to writhe in it—to touch himself, knowing even when she’s away, he’s the one she chose. 

He closes his eyes and inhales deeply, nosing away the lock of hair from her shoulder to drag his lips over the scars at her throat. He feels his body prime itself to bite. Fangs aching and suddenly feeling much too big for his palate, lips swollen, and tongue drowning in saliva.  

He swallows twice, sucks his tongue, then grinds the dried flat of it up the slope of Adriannu’s neck. Her breathing comes deeply as high color ignites her throat, and he presses his open lips and the flats of his teeth to her jugular.

Astarion goes stock still.  

He stays that way for some time, unbreathing. Concentrating. Immersing.

"Everything alright back there?" Adriannu gives his hands a grounding squeeze. He can feel the little smile against his hair when he squeezes back. 

"Listening," he murmurs.  

She makes an intrigued noise with her tongue. “To what?” 

His words bubble against her throat, like molten lava at the bottom of some volcanic chasm. "Your blood." 

Behind his eyelids he can very nearly see it all. Can follow the way her blood traverses her veins like roots through moist soil, filling even the most delicate of capillaries under the surface of her skin.

This close, and so familiar, he can scent it through muscle and bone. He can see the color, imagine the viscosity on his tongue, how hot it would be splashing down the back of his throat as it opens his mind to her memories, her feelings and secrets. Her old pains and new fears. Her love.

It all belongs to her, but she shares it willingly. And with him, of all people.

Of all the creatures...

A shiver starts in-between his shoulder blades and rakes through him, up to the crown of his head and the tips of his twitching ears, washing down to his feet. He gasps. 

He feels the already taut muscle behind his navel pull achingly tight and gives in to compulsion, pumping his hips to chase after the feeling lest it get away from him. By the noise of shock Adriannu makes he wonders if she's upset, but she leans into him instead, as if to egg him on. His hands unlatch from hers to hold her firnly at the waist while he grinds into her hard from behind.

He digs his sweat-soaked brow into her shoulder as his orgasm quickly overtakes him, whimpering and whining as he watches himself release. Cockhead swollen and red as he labors to rid himself of every last spurt, all in tribute to that flushed skin of hers, and the delicious blood that nurtures it all from underneath.  

When he’s spent Adriannu shifts, testing their connection. He's sure she can feel his hand snaking between them to pinch and rub his shaft through the little aftershocks still sparking through him. His seed pearling up the curve of her spine has her giggling in a way that makes his skin burn and his dead heart flop over like a fish out of water.   

With a coy smile, she tilts her head into his cheek, eyes fluttering shut. 

“That sounded nice,” she whispers. “Was it good for you?”  

Astarion inhales as he finds he hasn’t any air left in his lungs. When he gently bites into her shoulder, grinning lecherously up at her, Adriannu dislodges his mouth with a sharp nudge of her shoulder, only to turn around and press their lips together in a long, passionate kiss.

When they break away, the sound is audible, and his breath tracking across her wet lips makes her shiver.

"You wretched little mountain witch--making me come untouched like that." 

"Untouched? Please.” Her scoff is entirely undignified, and so terribly charming. “Grinding into me as though my ass were a whetstone..." 

"And what a large, smooth stone you were.” He sighs contentedly, in a way he knows she’ll find infuriating. “Perfect for sharpening my blade.”  

Adriannu groans, whirling on him with hands raised. “Rion, you bloody tosser--”  

Before she can properly shove him away, Astarion snatches her wrists and brings them to his lips to nip at her in jest. “Toss her? My love, I’m barely done with her.”  

They break into a playful scuffle then, laughing and kissing furiously as he wrestles her onto her back.

[newkatzkafe2023]

Ok so you don't have to do this if you don't want to and you can 100% ignore this but I gotta ask. How would the Wukongs be with a Reader S/O that is a female version of the lamb from The Cult Of The Lamb? Like such an adorable sweet little lamb girl that turns out to basically be a cult leader death god, who can and will beat demons and gods alike to death with that ever innocent smile on her face.

I LOVE THIS GAME🤩🫨🤯

(Lmk Wukong) Awwwwwww you are so cute and fluffy, he wasted no time fonding over you as you remind him of his nimbus cloud. You both hit it off as you both found each other an object of each other's interests, and you both had fun together. Then so one day when you decided to show him your big secret but then you both were suddenly attacked by another demon and Wukong was about to fight them off. The you suddenly joined in with your crown turned into a sword and switched to an Ax, which shook Wukong but not as much as how you easily. After that fight you bought Wukong to your cult as saw your alter as a lamb with blood coming out of its eyes. Wukong also finds that you being the death goddess is as awesome as it is scary😥

(MKR Wukong) Ohhhhhhhhhh man, he feels something odd about you, like you're hiding something, and he's gonna find out what it is. You were way too kind, too caring, too innocent looking, and the fact that you were patient with freaking pigsy of ALL PEOPLE. You were also ever so adorable on the outside, but their is something sinister on the inside, That when he found your cult, your well organized cult, and the crazy part is you were not only the leader, but the one they worship. The death goddess that is you!!!! when he found that you are a powerful woman who could slaughter monster with an innocent look on your face. He wonders if he can join you, and if your interested in marriage.

(HIB Wukong) He's also a bit suspicious of you but you showed nothing but kindness to both him and his children, you even go out your way to protect them and fight off monsters and other demons. Then one day he saw that the children were missing, and he was rightfully pissed knowing that you had something to do with it and was ready to tear you apart. Imagine his shock when he found you preying with Luier to an alter shaped Exactly like you and silly girl was sitting quietly Something She never did before. That's how Wukong found out about your cult to the death goddess AKA you.

(NR Wukong) Fluffy couples you both so cute together, He met and flirted with you when met you by a hardware store. You blushed a baa at him making him a purr at how cute you are, but it's not like he hasn't seen a cult before. Still imagine his surprise Pikachu face when he saw you running your cult with Corrupted teaching and magic that is not of his world at all. Wukong is not sure if he should be scared or majorly impressed with how you successfully run things, it's not often he meets a woman with authority.

(Netflix Wukong) OOOOOOOOOkkkkkkkk so he may have had been hit by cute aggression when you both first met, you were just soooooo cute and fluffy sitting on a log looking like a cloud that fell from the sky. He found himself sitting next to you shooting a few pick up lines, and Bragging about himself to you as you sat and smiled at him. You both always met in the same spot everyday sometimes with snacks as you listen to him talk but one day he was going to meet you like usual and got into an altercation with another demon Who was ridiculously strong for some reason. That's when you joined and absolutely destroyed that guy making his jaw drop that's when you finally bought him to your cult which freaked him out but he's also kinda jealous that they worship you as the death goddess.

(BMW Wukong) Ohhhhhhhhhh yeah love at first sight with him especially when he found out how deadly you actually are. You had such an innocent face looking up at him and he was smirking down thinking you were nervous around him, but oh that was not the case at all you were actually sizing him up to see if he was a good enough cult member. When he did find out you run a cult and you are actually a death goddess, their was no getting rid of him now he loves a deadly woman with authority and Deception🤤🤤🤤

(Destined one) Oh god two beings staring into each other's souls in silence, it creeps Bajie out to this day. Though the destined one immediately knew something is up with you as you had a dark aura around you despite your innocent smile and face. The Destined one found himself to be right as we demonstrated impeccable combat skills and abilities with an arsenal of weapons to beat monster and demons with. Then it definitely gets crazy when you let him to know that you run your own cult, not to mention your the death goddess which explains alot honestly. One thing's for sure the Destined one is happy to find a girl to creep peopleout with😊.

FEEL FREE TO REBLOG🐑🐐

[bkgbkgbkg]

Cabin Eren!Headcanons

Thinking about living in that cabin with eren

You guys are all alone and it’s the purest form of love you could ever experience

He’d wake you up in the mornings rubbing up and down your arm lazily, dragging his fingers so lightly.

You’d refuse to get up and he’d give in, he’d roll you over and put his weight on top of you, covering your face in kisses as you quietly giggle.

You’d both lie awake in bed as the warm morning sun honeys up the room, his green eyes the most beautiful shade they could be.

He’d have his cheek smushed against you as he quietly explains his plans for the day, he’d go fishing maybe, get some more firewood so you can read cosily by your fireplace

You’d read to him sometimes, on the swing in the cabins porch, his head on your lap as you say those calming words, one hand holding the paper the other in his hair as his eyes are closed but his ears are open

He’d help you hand wash the laundry, chase you around with the soapy buckets

You’d tried to help him with the firewood one time, him letting you use his axe which resulted with it in the tree behind you, he pecks you on the lips laughing and stays close to your face ‘i think i’ll just handle the wood’ grinning like a little boy

You guys would have a small farm and you’d both get so hyped about good sized vegetables that grew or collect the weird looking ones with small babies or something

You’d cook meals together but he’d never really knows what to do so he sits on the counters and just complies when you shove big spoons with sauce or soup in it and tells you what more it needs, he quietly watches you hum as you flow across the kitchen and he thinks to himself that he’d never need more from this world than you.

Sometimes he’s be exercising outside and you’d sit on your porch stairs, ogling shamelessly at his shirtless sweating body and catcalling him

“Wooooo are you single mister?” “Now what is a fine man like you doing out here?” “wanna come inside my cabin? I dont bite” “but i might just bite if u continue looking like that”

He laughs to himself secretly enjoying how you whistle at him, sometimes he’d have you sit on his back as he does push ups or have you hold his legs down as he does sit ups while you just talk your head off to him

You’d have candle lit dinners, sometimes eating food hes hunted and tried to cook all fancy up for you, you may be living in one place but his love makes up for that monotony, he always has something interesting to talk to you about, more to feel

[daycourtofficial]

Falling in Love on the Fourth Floor - Part 4

Summary: Out of an act of desperation, you move in with a guy you kind of know who happens to have a really hot brother who lives next door.

(Part 1) (Part 2) (Part 3) (Masterlist)

Author’s note: I love this series and I want to thank everyone who comments/reblogs/likes. I love you all and it gives me so much motivation to keep working on this series 💕

Cassian limped out of his room, using the wall for support as he walked into the living room.

“Sweetheart, can you grab me the ice pack from the freezer?”

You and Feyre had been in the kitchen making waffles, but the two of you make your way over to Cassian to help him, abandoning the batter you were making. You grab the ice pack from the freezer and a hand towel to wrap around it, while Feyre walks over to help ease Cassian onto the couch, helping him prop his leg up on the coffee table.

You place the ice pack on his knee, grabbing a throw pillow and placing it under his leg.

“Are you okay? What happened?” You ask, concern etched onto your brows.

He sighs, “just my knee flares up if I do too much, and I got a little ambitious with the girl I hooked up with last night.”

Feyre snorts as he waggles his eyebrows. You sit on the arm of the couch facing him, “Is there anything I can do to help?”

Cassian leans his head back on the couch, “yeah can you grab my pain meds? They’re probably in my bathroom.”

You scuttle off after he tells you what the bottle looks like, walking through his room into his bathroom. You’re not surprised at how messy it is, clothes litter the floor and papers are strewn across his desk.

You can hear Feyre and Cassian talking but can’t make out what they’re saying as you begin your search. You search through his drawers and medicine cabinet, finding various medicines, condoms, and even pads, but not the bottle he described. The sight of the pads reminds you of a story Mor told where she had told Cassian she was on her period and his response was, “let’s get messy, baby.” You shake the memory away, heading back to tell him the bad news.

“Bad news bud - no medicine.”

He groans, “where the hell did I have it last?” He starts muttering to himself, hoping he didn’t leave it at the gym, when he points to you.

“It’s next door - Az has it. I stuffed it in his gym bag. Could you go check for me?”

Last time you saw Azriel, you had fallen asleep on his thighs, most likely drooling over them in your slumber.

You woke up to a dark room, the tv screen black with disuse. You lift your head, your hand using the pillow to push yourself up. You move your head to find hazel eyes looking into your own.

Your head is a few inches off his thigh, your hand wrapped around it for support.

“Um, hi,” you say, a moment later realizing your hand was on his thigh, quickly pulling it away. You take a quick moment to check the side of your mouth with your hand, praying to any god that will listen that you weren’t drooling on him.

“Hi,” he tells you, “you missed a good movie.”

“Rain check?” You ask, and he chuckles.

“Are you going to fall asleep again?”

“If you ask me, no, but if you ask my friend Feyre, the answer is likely yes.”

He laughs, and you realize his hand is in your hair, as he untangles your hair from his fingers.

“That’s okay. We’ll just have to keep watching it until eventually you make it to the end.”

“Uh, yeah, sure Cass.”

You start to leave, but Feyre grabs your arm. “I just told Cassian about how we’re going axe throwing. I invited him and his brothers.”

Feyre winks at you as she’s turned away from Cassian, and you give her a look.

Nosey busybody. All because you had told her you fell asleep on Azriel last night. And how he was so kind to help you drop the truck off. And how damningly beautiful he was.

Curse your big mouth.

“You should ask them if they want to come while you’re over there. Cassian’s coming, if they’ll find that enticing.”

Her words mean one thing, but her eyebrow waggling screams, I don’t think Cassian will be the reason one of them comes.

You wander over next door, knocking as you approach their door. Your mind starts wandering while you wait for a response, and you wonder if they used to always meet in Rhys and Az’s apartment.

Your thoughts still when Azriel opens the door, surprise on his face as he looks at you. He’s shirtless, his tan chest on full display, some black shadow-esque tattoos adorning his shoulders. Your eyes trace the design, roving over his muscular chest.

You want to lick them.

You shake the intrusive thought away, and Azriel grins ever so slightly at your blatant ogling of him. You tell him, “Uh Cassian’s knee is acting up and he said he thinks his meds are in your gym bag?”

He opens the door wider, letting you in. “What’d he do to mess up his knee this time?”

You follow him as he leads you into the apartment, your words dying on your tongue, “something about getting too ambitious with a girl - what the fuck?”

Azriel stops to find you staring at their tv, an absolutely massive screen mounted to their wall. It practically takes up most of the wall, and you imagine watching a movie on it would feel life-sized. “And I thought Cassian had the biggest tv I’d ever seen.”

Azriel chuckles, “they got drunk one night and started having a pissing contest over who was bigger, and it escalated to them both buying absurdly large televisions.”

He rolls his eyes at the memory of them drunkenly purchasing tvs online, forgetting about the ordeal until they appeared a few days later, Cassian refusing to use Rhys’s tv for a week in solidarity of his manhood.

You two start moving towards Azriel’s room, worry brewing in your mind over what to do. To follow could be overstepping, to linger could be weird. He leaves his door wide open, looking back to see if you’re following, so you decide to be brave and step through his door.

His room is dark, black out curtains with tiny moons sewn into them adorning his windows. His bed is neatly made, a deep blue comforter laying on top. Your eyes are drawn to the little bat stuffed animal that sits on his pillows.

His room is neat - dirty clothes kept in a hamper in the corner, books neatly stacked on his nightstand and on a bookshelf. He even has paper tray organizers on his desk.

His laptop is open at his desk, the screen still lit with whatever he was doing before you knocked. You see a familiar photo of you and Mor on the screen before it cuts to black, leaving you confused.

You shake the thoughts away, telling him “I like the little bat.”

He stills, looking over at the thing. His face falls a bit, but he quickly corrects it, going back to his search for the bag.

“Thanks, Cass got it for me.”

“That’s sweet,” you tell him.

You breathe deeply, the air in the room shifting, but you’re not really sure why. You don’t want this to be the end of your interaction with him, so you ask, “so Cassian told me you’re a personal trainer?”

He bends over to pick up his gym bag from the floor, your eyes roving down his toned back to the shorts that generously show off his thighs. Maybe you could join their gym if you got to see him like this, tanned thighs and chest on full display.

“Yeah, he helped me get the job, actually. I’ve been working a lot more over the summer, trying to save money for when classes are in session.”

You nod, as he finds the bottle in his bag. “Do you like it?”

He walks back over to you, escorting you out of his room. “S’okay. Cassian’s much better at it than I am, but it’s not hard.”

You nod, wondering how both of them are at their jobs. You can imagine Cassian being loud and rambuctious, a personality trait you can’t see him without. Shouting motivational words as you squat. On the other hand you can see Azriel being calm, quiet, his presence hardly noticeable as you train, offering occasional motivation but knowing what his clients actually need is just someone there.

He reaches his hand out to give you the bottle, and you break your eye contact with him to grab it. His fingers brush over your hand, electricity crackling on your skin from his touch.

You look at his hands, noticing them for the first time. Covered in scars, the skin is scarred over, the texture rough and uneven. His touch is soft and warm, a contrast to the harshness of his hands. You don’t let your eyes linger on his hand for too long, worrying you’re invading his privacy.

You duck your head down, fighting the heat on your cheeks from his touch. If he notices, he doesn’t let on as you pull your hand back with the bottle, uncertain how long your hands had been in contact.

“Thanks I um, Cassian will appreciate this.” You give him a toothless smile, one that he matches. His eyes have a look about them, but you can’t spend too long thinking about it, especially considering Feyre was likely conspiring with Cassian as you two spoke.

“I’ll let you get back to whatever you were doing before,” you say, reaching for the doorknob.

“I’ll see you later,” he tells you.

Your hand stills on the knob and you turn to look back at him. “Are you doing anything today? Around 3?”

He shakes his head no, “not really - why?”

“My friend Feyre and I are going to go to this place to try out axe throwing and I was wondering if you wanted to come with?”

His eyes widen in surprise, but you continue before he can reject you.

“Um Cassian’s coming, and Rhys is invited too if he wanted to come. It’s no big deal if you guys don’t want to - Feyre and I probably won’t be any good.”

He watches you tuck your hair behind your ear and he realizes you’re rambling. Despite how cute he finds it, how cute he finds you, he cuts you off. “I’ll come - I’ll text Rhys too.”

You smile broadly at him, a sight he’ll definitely be thinking about until he sees you again, “okay, um yeah I’ll uh see you then? You can come over to our place and we can all leave together.”

You’re about to leave again when you backtrack, “uh, come over at 2:30 so we can leave together. See you then!”

After you’ve left, he listens to your feet pad down the hall, and the door to the apartment next door opening and closing. He looks to the wall that separates your apartments, as if he can see you giving Cassian the medicine.

He trudges back to his room, furling and unfurling his fist, his skin hot from your touch. The image of you looking at his hands printed in his brain. You didn’t look at him in pity, perhaps the first person to do so. You looked at him like he was resilient, like he was more than what happened to him, like he was more than the scars littering his hands.

He lets the thoughts whirl in his brain as he logs back into his laptop, the screen lighting up with your social media pages he had been scrolling through. He tells himself it’s just to see who Cassian is living with and if she can be trusted, if she seems okay. He also decides if she happens to be seeing anyone is also pertinent information.

For Cassian’s safety, of course.

[struwberrii]

haikyuu!! halloween headcanons 🕸 ｡𖦹°‧

here are some silly headcanons on how i think haikyuu characters would spend their halloween and what costumes they’d wear :3 (feel free 2 leave ur hcs in comments i love halloween + i wanna hear what u guys think lol 🎃)

pt. 1 here :3

characters: suna, akaashi, atsumu, kenma, tendou, iwaizumi

suna

probably doesn’t get too creative with his costumes, ends up going as like batman or spider man

brings you with him when he takes his little sister trick or treating so you guys can get free candy

doesn’t stay out too late because he gets bored and cold

you guys all sit at the dinner table trading candy while listening to music later on

the night would probably end with you and his friends hanging out at his house and ordering a pizza while watching ‘scary’ movies

(you’re all just poking fun at the movies for how predictable they are though)

akaashi

probably just shows up in a black t shirt and black jeans tbh

lets you do skeleton makeup on him though

you guys go to a festival and play a murder mystery

he keeps freaking everyone out by telling scary stories that are oddly realistic and descriptive, he sends bokuto home shaking in fear

doesn’t get a lot of candy but does eat the baked goods they offer and enjoys a caramel apple

he’s your groups designated photographer

atsumu

tries to match with osamu by dressing as eachother but samu says no then ends up being tsumu anyway

dresses as like patrick bateman or something and he TRIES not to break character character all night but he’s too unserious

chases samu with an axe at least twice that night

tries to talk vendors into giving him a little more than whatever they gave samu but gets rejected almost everytime

sometimes they purposely give him less food just because he asked 😭

tries to scare/prank people but he laughs to soon and blows his cover

somehow ends up with the most candy/trinkets and brags about it

kenma

kuroo literally had to drag him out the house and kenma did NOT come out without a fight (literally clawing at the walls bro did NOT want to be at that festival)

he was given animal ears as his costume but he’s rocking sweats

complains all night

eventually gets someone to give him a ride on their back while he plays his game

his mood drastically lightens when kuroo brings him a slice of apple pie

takes the ugliest pictures of his friends when they’re caught off guard and randomly sends it to their groupchat later on

tendou

tries to be scary but ends up going as chucky (yk that doll with the red hair)

literally chases his teammates around and scares them all night

pulls the best pranks like someone def ended up pissing their pants (it was probably goshiki)

also tells scary stories, while shirabu is picking at holes in the plot of his story 😭

forces ushijima to come out in costume too despite ushijima not being very interested in the holiday

he def goes crazy apple bobbing, he gets DOWN.

iwaizumi

doesn’t dress up but still goes out to a festival with his friends

probably wins you some huge stuffed animal but ends up carrying it around for you since it’s too big

i imagine it being like a giant homer simpson too 😭

oikawa tries scaring him but iwa ends up being the one chasing oikawa

tries a little bit of all the snacks they have to offer there

ends up spending most of the night watching other peoples kids and helping them get out of bounce houses