#god I’m sending him so many hugs

[decembermoonskz]

chan’s bubble messages :(

[luveline]

grumpy hotch x pregnant reader where he is just having an off day and the team calls reader in to deal with him and as soon she arrives in his office he just holds her and her belly as she scratches his scalp omg 🥹😭🫶🏻

You’re lounging in your husband's favourite chair with a book and an ice cold soda in your hand when your phone rings. You almost knock your tooth out pulling it up to your face without looking, wanting it to be Aaron, knowing it probably won’t be. Maternity leave can be excruciatingly boring. 

“Hello?” you ask. Your book slides down your bump. You pull it back up. 

“Hi, mom.”  

You grin to yourself. “Hi, Emily. Please tell me you’re calling because you miss me and you know I have cabin fever.” 

“I’m calling because someone misses you.” Her ire tone is unmissable and ever endearing. “I do miss you, I can’t wait for you to have your stinking baby and come back to work.” 

“That would be fun, right? We’ll get Hotch on paternity leave.” 

“It’s him I’m calling about.” 

“Is he okay?” you ask. You know if he were injured she would’ve mentioned that first. You’re not so scared of his being grumpy. 

“Moody as ever. I can’t believe I’m asking you to, but would you consider coming in for lunch? I’ll send a car, no walking, but he could really use it. He’s been biting off heads all morning.” Emily laughs down the line. “You’re the only one who can cheer him up.” 

It’s not true, but you are usually the quickest. You bid Emily goodbye with a promise to be there soon and get dressed, with no choice but to wear some maternity pants and a peplum blouse. Any excuse to see your haggard husband is one you’ll take. 

You look at your bump and you love the baby in there, but it feels weird sometimes to see yourself differently. If Aaron weren’t as nice about it as he is, you would’ve broken down by now; he’s sussed many breakdowns before they could begin, kissed fingertips and collars promising you’re just as pretty as always. And it’s reassuring, but it isn’t pretty that worries you. You’re a genuine walking beach ball right now. 

The car Emily promises is none other than Anderson himself. “He’s bullying you?” you ask him. 

He doesn’t say yes or no, but his smile is enough of a clue. You can’t get to the BAU quick enough (though you’re slower these days), pushing open the glass door with a tired sign. 

Spencer comes across you first by coincidence. “Hey!” he says, ushering you in for a hug, his cup of coffee hot behind your shoulder. “What are you doing here? You’re supposed to be resting.” 

“He’s in a mood,” you say. Not without fondness. 

Spencer grimaces. “Sort of.” 

Emily attacks you from the side. “Thank god you’re here! I think he just told Morgan to go fuck himself,” she says under her breath. 

She’s just saying it to make you laugh, and it works. It’s vaguely out of character, but if you know Emily, you know she has a crass, often dirty-minded side, and it’s been a while since you’ve heard her swear. You’re still giggling when the door you’d been making your way to opens. 

Aaron emerges with an expression half bemusement and half confusion. “Honey?” 

“My love,” you say, too quiet for him to properly hear, but he can read lips just fine. 

He rushes in a very gentlemanly display down the steps to help you up them, but you’d only been going up them to see him, and you stop at the foot of them with your hand raised to his elbow. “Hey, handsome.” 

“What’s wrong?” he asks. 

“Nothing. Just missed you, wanted to have dinner, and I figured you couldn’t say no. You know.” You touch your tummy. “Considering.” 

He peers suspiciously past your head. “Yeah?” 

You look where he’s looking, find Emily and Spencer not so subtly turned away. You laugh again, pleased when the sound makes him smile. “Come on. Take me to your office.” 

He puts a hand behind your shoulders and leads you upstairs to his office. There are papers strewn haphazard across the front of the desk, his briefcase open and muddled, his pen lost within the mess. You’re smug knowing he’d been knee deep in paperwork but abandoned it all when he heard you laughing, like he just couldn’t miss it. 

“Let me sit you down,” he says. 

“Woah, slow your roll. Why are you stressed?” 

He blinks at you. “There’s a lot to do?” 

“Sure, but why are you stressed about me? I can sit down by myself.” 

He must look at you for five whole seconds without saying a word, and the door’s not closed, there’s no answer to your question, and then he takes you into his arms for a hug. “I know you can,” he says. 

It’s admittedly hard to hug him with the bump between you. You worry you’re hurting him as your cheeks press together, crushing his shoulders under your hands. 

He usually asks first, but he knows by now that you’re two halves of the same heart, two sides of the same coin, his hand slipping between you both to nudge aside your shirt and feel your stomach. 

You close your eyes. 

“Rough day?” you ask. 

“A lot to do…” His face moves down into your neck. 

You know what he wants, moving your hand to the back of his head to thread your fingers into his hair. “I can fix it,” you say sympathetically, beginning a gentle scratch of your nails against his scalp. 

“How’s that?” 

“If I go into labour right now, you get a reprieve.” 

“Honey, in the most loving sense possible, you going into labour now would not be ideal.” 

“It’s gonna happen one day, babe. And you’re gonna be just as busy then. You need to take less on or–”

“No, I know.” 

His hand slides still under your shirt to your hip, encouraging you away from him, his eyes flitting up and down your figure, checking you over. You let your hand fall to his shoulder, fingertips interested in the starchy fabric of a new suit. 

“Thank you,” he says quietly, dipping down to give you a kiss. His eyes are dark, so close. “That helped. What can I get you for dinner?” 

You give a fond, pitying smile. You’re not gonna get him out of this office today, that’s for sure. “Half your sandwich, probably.” 

He kisses you again. You take it for a thank you. 

[rowdyslove]

𝐃𝐎𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐒𝐎 𝐆𝐎𝐎𝐃. | jack hughes

꒰ genre: mature ;established!relationship!au | drabble

꒰ word count: 1k

꒰ warnings: 18+ themes !! MDNI ! literally 1k words of just raw sweet filth, pussy drunk!jack, unprotected sex (be safe people), soft sex, swearing, praising.

꒰ author’s note: surpriseeee !! my first ever time trying to write smut, i’d say it went well ? (i really hope it did..) butttt this is also what i chose to write for my 1k follower celly !! (this is part 1 of 3 different drabbles i am writing for this celebration) thank you all so much for getting me to this point, and i’m so excited to put out all of the works i have in my drafts coming soonnnn :DD i hope you all enjoy this !

next drabble >>

it never ever mattered just how many times jack found himself sinking down into the heavenly feeling of your pussy, he knows for a fact that he'll never be able to get used to the intoxicating hug of your walls around his length.

he always felt like you were just silently begging for more of him, luring him in deeper with every needy stutter of yours hips whenever his palms squeezed at your waist as he bucked against you.

"come on, aghh—you gotta stop doing that, love." jack was already so out of it. he had just started, only a few thrusts in and he already felt like he could barely create a single breath when the deep kiss of his cock against your sensitive spot makes you purr his name and clench around him.

his hair is ruffled, a mess of light brown locks on his head and a few long strands hanging down, sticking to the light coat of sweat across his forehead. some other strands fall over his lidded gaze and framing his defined features, but thankfully he can still see you so so clearly; such a pretty sight seeing you underneath him like this, he thinks.

jack believes he’s never had a woman moan for him the way you do. he keeps chasing the intoxicating squeeze of your walls around him as he digs deeper and deeper for more of the sweet sounds that leave your lips—the sounds that are only for only him to hear. your back arches high off of the sheets as he lets his fingertips trace along the path of your skin, taking a slow and gentle handful of your hips with another tight squeeze before he whimpers low, pace slightly stuttering as he presses himself further into you.

he had a long day, dealing with the early morning practice and the tough game that was played just earlier that night—he really needed this; he needed you.

maybe that was why everything felt so good. because he had been imagining the feeling of your skin pressed up close to his all day. and now, through gritted teeth and restless hands just trying to touch every inch of your soft skin, he throbs long with his next withdrawal from you, right before he pushes straight back in.

"j-jack please!" you gasp at the feeling he sends through you, and his lips part to moan sinfully as he lets himself drop to rest on his forearms—just close enough for his lips to graze themselves along your prominent collarbones with tender open-mouthed kisses. he lets his eyes flutter closed, trying not to focus on how perfectly you're hugging around him, small hands grabbing ahold of his broad shoulders in a desperate attempt to pull him closer but also keep yourself steady as well.

"i know, baby, i know. s-shit, just be patient with me for a sec." jack feels so drunk on the feeling that is you. his mind and senses blurring all into one big blob as his name continues to fall from your lips between soft pants that make him feel like he's about to pass out right there from how sweet you sound. he starts mouthing his way at your neck, smearing messy and completely fucked out kisses along the expanse of your flesh as his movements slowly become even more desperate. "god, you just feel soo-so fucking—mmph—good baby.”

this feeling is dangerous. the heavy trembles of his hands where they squeeze at your skin, the painfully pleasing throb of his cock as desire begins to warm through all of his nerves, trickling down his spine as he grinds out another low drawled moan of your name.

his skin feels like it’s burning from every touch you give him, but he also thinks you're even hotter when you let him hear the sweet sound of praises and his name rolling off your tongue in rampant mumbles that has his abdomen tightening up.

"d-don’t do that, love. just gonna make me f-fucking cum." jack’s babbling every word, like sex-drunken mantras spurring out of him with every needy roll of his hips into yours. you can feel the blunt head of his cock grazing over ever sensitive and sinful spot inside of you that only have you squeezing him even tighter; just sucking him deeper and deeper down into you.

"jack-a-ahhhh.. doing so so good.” the whimpering praise falling from your lips is like honey as it drips in his ears, making him tilt his head to plunge his mouth right into yours before his body starts to shake, and his lungs continue flaring with every heavy pant of breath he exhales with his thrusts. his sudden orgasm catches him off guard when he feels your tongue tangling with his own, sliding across his top lip as he then cums, hot spurts of him filling you up to the brim.

a low grunt releases itself from jack through your kiss from deep within his throat as his pace starts to slow slightly, kissing at your lips slowly as his next wet withdrawal leaves you, right before he's pushing his load deep down into your cunt. every lewd squelch of your pussy makes him gasp against your lips as he kisses you, inturn making you even more wet for the man that’s fucking you absolutely senseless.

even though jack had already reached his high, he still doesn’t want to stop, not when you just look so pretty in your fucked out and inebriated state, and you’re doing so good for him.

"j-jacky. feeling any b-better? mmm" his body continues to clap against yours, speed slowing down ever so slightly before he pulls away from your lips to rest his head in the tight crook of your neck, panting as he grinds steady thrusts into your pussy, despite the way the sensitivity of his cock is hitting straight at his nerves. every thick throb and strained squeeze felt like it was knocking all of the air out of him, but every soft moan from your lips is just enough to remind him how to breathe and he knows for a fact that he's not stopping so soon as he sends you short lustful smirk before he's smearing a wet kiss upon your cheek.

"mmf.. all better, but i gotta take care of my little baby now."

[artists-ally]

what about Harvey when he’s jealous? His wife is attending an event at the firm with him, she’s wearing a nice dress and one of his rivals from another firm is oggling her and she dogdes his advances gracefully, but when they get home he’s bending her on the closest surface and chanting “mine” skxmcmdks

{Put it on Me} Reader x Harvey Specter

oh BOY have I been thinking about this tehe. Also, you are my soul source of Harvey inspiration pls pls pls keep the requests coming. I have such a hard time coming up with ideas on my on so getting to create something specific really helps. Enjoy loves!!! title from this song

Word Count: 3,375

Warnings: jealousy, minor dom/sub concepts, unprotected sex, flirty banter, Harvey being a possessive mf.

~~~~~~~

As I stepped around the corner of the hallway, Harvey was leaning against the kitchen island, hands braced on the counter, gaze very much pinned on my silhouette.

“So, what do you think?” I asked, gesturing to the gown I had picked out over the weekend. “I thought the green would match well with yours.”

Harvey’s eyes melted over my frame, scanning every inch as he just stood. Watching. “You… Yn, you look breathtaking. What do you say we skip the firm announcement and just stay in?”

I laughed, the sound of my heels echoing off the walls. “As much as that sounds like a great idea, we can’t exactly snub off the announcement of a merger.”

“You just have to be the buzzkill don’t you?” Harvey smiled, planting his hands on my hips. “I should have you locked up for how good you look.”

“I don’t think you’d be able to convince a jury I’ve committed a crime, not if I bat my lashes and give them that flirty smile that sent you crawling to the floor.”

His eyes narrowed, backing me against the island in a firm spin. “Let’s not forget who can make those same lashes flutter shut, either.”

Bastard.

Harvey was dressed well– he always was. Terribly and insufferably great at finding the perfect suit. It was a three piece; the vest and jacket were black, but he wore this green tie that went with my dress. He said that since this would be the first event we attended together as a married couple, he wanted everyone to know.

Endearing, and mildly possessive.

I loved it when he was possessive.

“Okay, Maverick, let’s get to the flightdeck before we run out of fuel,” I patted his chest, grabbing my clutch and slipping in my earrings.

“Have I ever told you how much I love it when you make Top Gun references?”

“Almost as many times as you’ve told me how much you love when I’m on my knees,” I whispered in his ear before heading to the door.

Harvey landed a firm smack on my ass, sending laughter tumbling out of me before we kissed and headed down to the limo waiting for us.

I looked up and out of the window, taking in the views of the towering skyscrapers. The venu was gorgeous; all sleek marble and intricate architecture. Who knew such a place existed in New York.

When we arrived, Harvey stepped out first, taking my hand and guiding me out. I clutched his bicep as we ascended the stairs, greeting the security guard in front of the glass doors.

“Ahh, Mr. and Mrs. Specter,” the guard greeted. “Welcome. Ms. Pearson and Mr. Litt is waiting for you inside, as well as the other guests.”

Harvey gave me a nod, and I gave him one back. “Thank you, sir.”

He opened the door for us, and the inside was just as meticulously crafted as the outside. It was stunning, truly stunning. They don’t make buildings like this anymore, and that makes me a little sad.

“Yn!” Donna called out, several heads turning in our direction. “Oh my god you look amazing!”

“I couldn’t say anything less about you, Donna. You look so good, that royal blue makes your hair look so awesome,” I smiled pressing a kiss to her cheek. “And you too, Jessica. You look marvelous.”

“Thank you, Yn,” she smiled, accepting my hug. “Don’t you clean up nice, Harvey.”

He rolled his eyes, snagging a flute of champagne from a waiter on their way by. “I’ve been known to clean up every now and then.”

Conversation flowed easily between the small cluster I’ve been encompassed with. It is so nice to have such a tight knit group of people to not only call my friends, but my family. When Harvey first brought me around them, it had just been after a huge win against a firm enemy. Daniel Hardman, who I’ve come to know the full story about, had his ass handed to him. Afterwards, Harvey was far too proud to keep his mouth shut about us and insisted I needed to be a part of the celebration.

Donna was the first to meet me, and we shared one look and knew we were gonna be best friends. We made an incredible team. Especially when we teamed up against Harvey together.

Jessica was polite, but not nearly as friendly as Donna or Louis. Mike was nice, and so was Rachel, but they were too love struck, always off in their own little bubble.

Cuties.

Dinner was served just before eight and we dined, exchanging stories left and right. I got to hear about his days at the firm from their perspective, to which I get to tell them from mine. Wildly different, might I add.

The food was rich and decadent; a choice between a filet mignon or a salmon steak. I went with the filet mignon, it looked too good to pass up. Apparently everyone else agreed because our plates all looked identical when they came out.

More champagne and a belly full of great food later, Harvey and I found ourselves at the bar, ordering drinks for ourselves. Sure Harvey enjoyed the company of his co-workers, but even he needed a break from the people he saw every day. And so did I.

“If she comes back, order me an old fashioned for me my love?” Harvey said, kissing the back of my hand. “I just saw one of our investors walk in. I want to make sure he keeps investing.”

“I’ll make sure she puts in an extra cherry for you,” I winked, letting his lips fall onto mine.

“God I love you.”

With a lingering touch, he was off across the room, that classic Harvey Specter saunter to his gait. He looked so confident, so proud of all the work he had accomplished in his career. And he should be. Harvey has built an empire here in New York and has done more than earn his reputation.

It baffled me that underneath that ‘tough as nails’ attitude, was just someone who wanted to be loved and cherished as much as I had. I love Harvey, with every bit of my soul. He was so deserving of someone who truly loved him and not the amount of zeros in his bank account.

When we first met, I hadn’t known who he was, and he liked that very much. He told me he was a lawyer, a good one, but never specified which didn’t bother me really at all. It was complicated for a long while, but eventually I wore him down and he opened up. There weren’t any details of his life he didn’t share once that wall was broken down. When I met Donna for the first time, she thanked me for it. She said that I pulled that child-like behavior out of him and made him fall in love with being a lawyer all over again.

That made my heart swell with pride.

A gentle tap on my shoulder pulled me out of my memory of Harvey, and I met a pair of tempest blue eyes.

“Oh, hello,” I gave a polite smile, turning to face the man.

“Hello to you, too,” he smiled, eyes darting around my face. “I’m Travis.”

“Yn,” I said, taking his hand in mine.

“You know,” he rubbed his fingers over his chin, “Most people tend to just wear an outfit, but clearly you are going the extra mile by capturing everyone’s attention by simply sitting here.”

I hit my smile, “Well, that is kind of you to say.”

“And the earrings, they really bring the whole thing together. Did you do your hair yourself?”

“Yes,” I exclaimed, rather enthusiastically. “It looks a lot more complicated than it was. It genuinely only took me five or six minutes to do but it looks incredible, right?”

I swiveled in the bar stool, turning the back of my head to him. He blew out a low whistle and gave a light applause, “It looks amazing.”

“Are you here from the merger?” I asked, not recognizing this Tanner fellow.

“Oh, no I am merely here as a… a guest.” His eye had this glint to it when he took a sip of his clear drink. I could smell the vodka from here.

“Me too,” I said, turning my attention to the space around us. “Isn’t this place so cool? I love all the columns and pillars and- oh! Excuse me, can I get an old fashioned? With an extra cherry in it?”

“Of course,” the bartender nodded, walking away to start mixing the drink.

“Wouldn’t have pegged you for whiskey kinda girl,” Travis said, resting his elbows on the counter beside me.

“Oh, I’m not it’s for-”

“Tanner.” Harvey’s voice slithered down my spine. He sounded so… so repulsed.

“Harvey,” Travis pushed to his full height. “Nice to see you here-”

“What are you doing here.” It wasn’t a question.

“Your name is Tanner?” I asked. Why would he lie to me?

“No, no my name is Travis. Tanner is my last name.”

“She doesn’t give a shit about what your last name is. Now get the hell out of here.”

“Woah, calm down Harvey. I’m just talking with this beautiful lady, no need to twist your panties. I was here first, you don’t get to swoop in here and steal my conversation,” Travis frowned, setting the glass down rather harshly on the counter.

“Hey Yn, isn’t that an 8 carat diamond?” Harvey stood directly behind me, sliding his fingers down my left arm, grabbing my wrist and facing it towards Travis.

“Uhh, yeah what’s going-”

“That's right, it is. Funny how I knew that, isn’t it Tanner? Well, that’s because I bought it for her. So how about you get the hell out of here and if I ever catch you trying to flirt with my wife again I will put you six feet in the fucking dirt, do you understand me?”

My eyes damn near fell out of my fucking skull. I knew Travis was being polite, or flirting I guess, but I wasn’t going to let anything come of it, of course.

Travis looked like he was going to be sick. He scurried off, metaphorical tail tucked between his legs.

Harvey dropped my hand and reached around me to grab his freshly crafted drink.

“Okay, hotshot, what was that all about?”

“Do you remember that shit-show of a case that we fought a few months ago, the one that got reopened after four years?” I nodded. “Yeah, that was him. And that's the asshole who tried to have me disbarred.”

Holy shit. “Oh, fuck Harvey. I had no idea.”

“Of course you didn’t,” he smiled faintly. “There’s no other reason he’s here tonight other than to piss me off.”

“Don’t let it get to you,” I said, standing up and taking his face in my hands. “Would you like to passionately make out in front of all these people just to make Travis Tanner mad?”

“Yes, yes I would like that very much,” Harvey grinned, linking his arm around my wait and pressing me close before sending a shiver down my spine with the force of his lips on mine.

“That guy is an asshole,” I said, needing a moment to catch my breath. Surely that did the trick, Travis was nowhere in sight. “You shouldn’t trust anyone with two first names, it’s weird.”

Harvey bellowed out a laugh, nodding his head over his shoulder. I could tell he wanted to leave, but I wouldn’t let him slink off without saying proper goodbyes to everyone that was worth an explanation as to where we fled to.

Donna didn’t need to see us leave, because I had a text on my phone with a bunch of eggplant and peace emoji’s with an accompanying message that said ‘GONNA BE SOME GOOD D TONIGHT GIRL’. She must’ve seen the whole interaction between Travis, Harvey and I.

All I sent back was a winky face.

By the time we got off the elevator, Harvey couldn’t keep his hands off of me. Not that I wanted him to, but we hadn’t even made it outside before his tongue was sweeping inside my mouth.

We pressed to the front door while jammed in the key, effortlessly unlocking it like he had done it a thousand times before. We crashed through, and Harvey wasted no time pinning me to the door.

“Mmm Harvey,” I whined into his mouth.

“Yes, pretty girl?” God damn did I love when he calls me that. “What do you need?”

“You, just you,” I looked at him through my lashes, watching that evil smirk wash over his features. Nothing could have stopped his hand clamping around my throat, pulling me off the door and into the kitchen. He hoisted me up onto the island and began to strip.

Harvey tossed his jacket onto the counter behind him, the tie was next. He made it painfully slow, doing nothing to hide his intentions of making it agonizing for me. I rolled my eyes, hands finding the buttons on his vest, flinging it over my shoulder.

“Needy,” he gripped my chin, crushing his mouth with mine. For a few minutes, or hours, we drank each other in. Restless hands and desperate pleas of need. Silk wrapped around my wrists, tight and commanding. I looked down and saw his tie around them, knotted in a figure eight and yanked until it burned.

“Harvey-”

“You’re mine. All. Mine. No one else has the right to do so much as think otherwise.” My core rippled with heat, eyes lulling shut at his words. “Aww, you like hearing that, don’t you? That I get to see you like this? All tied up? Such a pretty girl, Yn. I bet you’re such a mess for me already.”

He grabbed the fabric around my wrists and pulled me off the counter, flipping me over and forcing me to bend over. Harvey fisted up the hem of my skirt, quite literally tearing my thong off my hips.

I went to yell at him, but his finger dragged between my legs, and my spine shivered. “Fuck, Harvey…”

“You are a mess for me,” I could hear the possession in his voice. “Mmm, and you taste so sweet, Yn.”

I heard his fly unzip, the clang of his belt following after. My toes barely touched the ground as my forearms pressed against my ribs. I tried to scramble up a little so my hips fit with the edge of the counter, but Harvey just gripped the back of my hair and pulled me up.

He clicked his tongue, “Oh Yn, such a pretty thing you are. And I am going to have my way with you, and you’re gonna scream my name for the whole city to hear.”

I clenched my thighs together, pressing my forehead against the cool surface, though it quickly warmed with my breathing and panting. I felt the tip of his cock press against me, and his hips slowly met mine.

He pushed me further onto the counter, thankfully letting go of my hair before he pulled out.

Harvey’s hands on my hips were brutal; bruising my skin, commanding, feverish as they roamed my ass and thighs. Clawing marks.

“God Yn…” he sighed out, thrusting all the way back in, pulling my hips all the way flush with his. “Fuck you are so warm. So perfect for my cock.”

“Please,” I begged, wiggling my ass to entice him further.

“Please what, pretty girl? Come one, use your words.”

I shuddered around him, and he laughed at me. A cruel, wicked laugh as he stuffed himself further.

“Harder, I want- need it harder.”

“That’s my girl,” Harvey landed his palm on my ass, undoubtedly turning it bright red as he did it again. With one snap of his hips, and I knew I was gonna be ripped apart.

I didn’t know that much about Travis Tanner, but judging by the way this was going, Harvey really fucking hated the guy. If Harvey had any other enemies, maybe I should let them all flirt with me if it has the chance of turning into this.

My chest rammed across the counter, my thighs and pelvic bone rocking into the side of the island. It hurt, fuck did it hurt, but it made it so much better. Harvey’s brutal pace had him panting and groaning, cursing under his breath while he fisted his hand back in my hair.

I craned up, back aching with the force of his unyielding grip. It was hard to breathe, in the most soul fluttering way possible. It was such a euphoric feeling to be under his complete control.

“Yeah, you love this, don’t you? Being completely at my mercy? Submitting to my every decision?”

“Yes Harvey,” I whimpered. Full on whimpered. “Fuck-”

“Don’t be shy, pretty girl, let it all out for me to hear.”

He threw my head down, hair swinging around my shoulders and falling in my face. I let my head go limp, moans pouring out of my mouth. His hips slammed into mine, brutal and ruthless. Every inch of my body was on fire, veins pumping blood widely through my limbs, making them tingle. My toes curled, knees knocking into the wood paneling over and over and over.

I couldn’t do anything, couldn’t say anything, to get him to slow his pace. I writhed and cried out his name. I could hear it echo off the walls, and I knew our neighbors would be taping a complaint to our door by the morning.

“Fuck, baby, gonna cum,” he threw his head back, hips stuttering as he held on to my waist. “Fuck, Yn you are so fucking messy for me. Gonna fill you up.”

I squirmed when his finger brushed against my clit, chills spreading all down my arms and back. I felt tears prick my eyes. I hadn’t even realized how close I actually was to my release, and it slammed into me without any hint of a warning.

“Yeah, that's it, pretty girl. Cum on my cock,” Harvey’s voice was like a sin. Pure, raw, unfiltered sin.

His fingers circled and circled around, lighting my body and dragging out the waves of pleasure that rolled through me.

Harvey let out a string of curses, and his hips stilled. He grabbed my shoulder and pulled me down onto him, hips ramming in once-twice-three-four times before he stilled. He bent over me, heaving for a breath against the middle of my back.

I called his name several times, unable to keep still. My hands were going numb from the bindings, and my knees and hips ached.

With a big inhale, Harvey lifted off my body. His hands trailed all the way down my back to my exposed ass, pulling it apart. “Well, would you look at that. So messy, full of me…”

My pussy clenched around him, and I felt his release slide down the inside of my thigh. His finger dragged his back up and speared it into my skin.

“That’s right, pretty girl, you’re all mine, aren’t you? Say it.”

“I’m yours Harvey, all yours,” I plead, wallowing in the feeling of pure bliss. His hands were much more gentle this time around when he lowered me back to the ground.

That mouth of his most certainly wasn’t. Harvey forced his tongue in, practically shoving it down my throat. I choked, and he grinned like the devil.

“Yeah, that’s right, Yn. You’re all mine. All fucking mine.”

I stared up at him in a starry daze. My head was foggy, and my legs were weak. “God do I love it when you get like this.”

Harvey’s hand caressed my cheek, thumb sweeping under my eye to where I’m sure my makeup was smudged.

“And god do I love it when you let me worship you, fucking you exactly like you deserve to be. No one else could ever fuck you as good as I can. Right, pretty girl?”

I grinned, equally as devilish as him, “Right, Harvey.”

~~~~~

Reader's dress

Harvey's suit

[deadghosy]

FRIENDSHIP HCS WITH HAZBIN HOTEL CAST

Various x GN! READER

LUCIFER

You are his first best friend who understood his divorce and mostly how depressed he was after Lilith. But you helped him see better light at spending time with his daughter as he didn’t know how to talk to his daughter after years.

This man is clingy towards you at time. Literally he is calling your hellphone 24/7 out of his time and your time. One time you overslept and didn’t answer his calls. This motherfucker called you 69 times and next thing you know, your wall is busted to find a full demon formed worried Lucifer. After he had seen you were alive and well he smiles awkwardly at your wall.

Lucifer makes it know that you are his best friend so you won’t be harmed. But also you might be targeted, he knows he would snap a demon in half if you came into harm’s way.

This man literally sends you ducks in your mailbox. One time he made you a duck theme birthday party with your favorite colors with the cast of the hotel staff.

Lucifer and you have matching duck onesies, outfits, rings, shirts that says “I’m the duckling” and “return duckling to older duck”. You were immediately embarrassed but wore it for his sake. 

One time you had to take off the matching duck ring to wash dishes and Lucifer came to your place ready to rant about this duck he made for you so you can blow bubbles with it. As soon he sees you without the ring, he is gasping dramatically asking you if you don’t want to be friends with him with a kicked puppy expression. You sighed at the powerful man saying no as you dried your hands off putting the ring back.

If you had a nightmare, he would be there. If your cramping to pain, he would be there. Oh you’re crying? He’s there with a napkin. Literally he’s there for you as you were there for him when he couldn’t get over Lilith.

ANGEL DUST

If you came from the same industry as him, yeah you both talk shit about Valentino. Like bad shit to the point you two are laughing like hyenas from lion king.

If you aren’t from the industry he is in. You support him. Bread is bread.

I can see Angel always making you two shop and go clubbing as a way to keep you happy and show you how much he cares about your happiness.

I also headcannon that his hugs are like heaven itself with his many arms and his chest fluff. You nuzzle your face in his chest fluff as he chucks with you.

You both make dirty jokes to the point people are sick of it in the hotel or in public. It’s funny to make each other laugh but everyone else insufferable by the jokes.

You two definitely watch RuPaul's Drag Race as you both would make comments on the people in it. Thank god you died with a human world tv.

CHARLIE

She’s like her father but less clingy.

Matching bracelets, match outfits, matching everything as she wants you to redeem if you are a sinner. But if you aren’t a sinner that means she doesn’t have to cry about you leaving her.

You are know as either the princess’s “pet” or just her best friend as it’s pretty clear you two are close.

If you are in a royal family like her, you could definitely help her hotel go into business as you can’t let a friend’s dream go into waste.

VAGGIE likes you as you help her girlfriend around the hotel and herself.

You went out one night as Charlie was worried like a mother who lost her child. She had to send Alastor to find you as he found you at a shopping mall getting clothes. After Charlie scolded you about dangerously is at night. You gotta admit you felt attached to Charlie after she shown her worried side at you.

You two got closer as you two bake cookies for the hotel staff. Hell you even help Charlie get ready for a date with vaggie and it’s funny seeing Charlie freak out over a simple outfit decision.

VAGGIE

If you two knew each other by being angels together, you were saddened to know she was left in hell as you stayed in heaven. As you see her again in court, your eyes light up. Her eyes tear up hugging you. It was an amazing sight in-front of Charlie as Charlie introduced herself. You smile at Charlie and made her feel welcome.

After knowing her plans to redeem sinners, you agree with her like Emily does. It was sad to you again to see vaggie and Charlie go back to hell defeated.

If you are a sinner or hell born, she definitely didn’t trust you at first but soon trusted you not feeling any malice intentions. So you two definitely got along.

You two make sure the hotel is fine.

If VAGGIE chooses to tell you that she is actually an angel, you support you and figure a way for her and Charlie to talk it out. But if Adam bets it to you, vaggie rant about how much an ass adam is for spelling the beans before vaggie can do it with your help.

I headcannon vaggie to be a friend who would listen to your problems a lot and try to fix them but can’t as she doesn’t know how to specifically help you. But she tries her hardest as she always do.

I also headcannon vaggie to let you do her hair as she finds it’s nice to have a friend who is there for her like her girlfriend Charlie. Charlie is also glad to see her partner have a best friend.

ALASTOR

Who would know that the old man had a friend.

PFTTT THIS OLD FUCKER USES YOU AS A ARMY REST! If you are short of course which is obvious that this mf is tall as hell.

If you two knew each other and were partner in crimes and died in hell. He is literally making you an overlord too. He doesn’t have time to worried about you being killed in hell. Plus if you didn’t die to someone. He is killling them in a slow agonizing death for the punishment of killing you.

I headcannon this mf waiting for you in hell after he died, he literally taps his foot checking his wrist hearing you scream. You drop next to him as his shadows place you down lightly beside him.

“What took you long darling!” He says with his creep grin. “I tried to kill the fucka who murdered ya ass” you said as he drops you to the ground due to your foul language.

But yeah I can see you two being platonic soulmates or partners in another life.

I headcannon Alastor sending his shadow minions to find you or just at least check up on you so he can make sure you are safe. Alastor isn’t big on showing PDA. But he definitely shows it by his shadow minions.

You could be having a bad day and he send his demons to give you a puppet show. You chuckle at how dumb it is but at least Alastor smile knowing you are smiling.

HUSK

This grumpy son of a gun will drink listening to you rant, literally you could rant about how some demon tried to rob you and he would drink nodding away.

You had to hide his booze.

But if he was sober, he would still be the same. But slight more grumpy as booze lightens him up.

I headcannon husk that he waltz on drunk into your room and snore beside you who literally got done watching a horror movie.

Bro woke up on the floor with a show thrown at him.

Husker lets you touch his paws as your eyes light up with stars at this. He literally grumbles with purrs erupting from his chest. Hell he knows he purrs but hates it.

One time you pet his wings and his purr was so loud, you both had derpy shocked faces. Ever since that day, you tease him badly about it as he grumbles flipping you off.

He is also the kind of friend to actually listen to you and solve your issues but not fully as it’s your problems and not his. He is just a drunk bartender

I headcannon you two argue over uno to the point you two actually almost fought. Thanks to Charlie who broke you and husk apart from ripping each other throats open.

I headcannon husk curls like a cat when sleeping, so if he is drunk in your room. He sleeps on your bed like a cat as you just sit there confused with a tired expression.

NIFFTY

You two cause so much chaos.

This little manic always cleans your room first.

I can see her telling you about people she killed with a smile on her face. You guys have a dance party when no one is looking as it fun with each other.

One time she accidentally cut her finger and you helped her get a bandage with a skull on it. And she loved it! She asked more of the bandages you got as she loved the design.

Niffty who sleeps on your bed when she misses you

Niffty who stabs bugs in your room who dares to scare you if you don’t like bugs.

SIR PENTIOUS

He lets you take care of his eggs boiz.

You and him bake cookies for each other out of friendship, he made cookies that look like you. It was poorly drawn but it melted your heart. You shown him your cookies that looked like him and he was in tears hugging as he felt amazed at you making cookies for him.

He wraps his tail around you if you both are watching a horror movie. You guys have matching bracelets with your favorite color and his favorite color. When Charlie first heard and seen it, she almost bursted into tears seeing it as it was so adorable.

He literally rants about his creations and killing machines. He was gonna make you his number 1 right hand before he went to the hazbin hotel. You joined him to the hazbin hotel as you two share a liking towards Charlie and her dreams.

But after you and Pentious died and got redeemed together. You two cried holding each other hoping the others were safe in the battle of the angels.

That’s all I have for the headcannons in my head. But I hope you love em.🔥

[eveningepiphany]

welcome to the final show | H.S oneshot

my masterlist!

summary: you take a beautiful sign to the final show and have the sweetest interaction with harry. then somehow bump into him in italy 2 days later.

warnings: nothing but fluff, and a few little mentions of how he saved your life!

a/n: i am so fucking proud of h. i want to give him a hug more than anything. this is for all my lovelies who love hslot so fckn much it makes them ill.

also this is such an unrealistic oneshot but like that’s just the way for it ig

———

There’s a certain type of atmosphere that comes around once and a while. It’s rare.

It’s one that no matter how many photos or videos you take, you can’t capture it. One that no word has enough emotional range behind it to convey the feeling it opens up in you.

That is the only way to get close to even describe standing where you are.

You can’t lie, you had waited hours upon hours in the Italian sun just to feel the warm metal of the barricade underneath your palms.

You’d waited years just to get here in general.

When you turn your head to look behind you, you see tens of thousands of people there. Going from visible, overwhelmingly happy faces to a sea of tiny dots.

But you’re here. At the front.

You smile because you made it. This has, albeit dramatic, been a home to you over the past 2 years.

A creature comfort. One you followed every step of the way. And somehow you can’t believe you made it here, and neither would the girl back 18 months ago watching a pixelated Instagram livestream.

Standing in your outift, which took more rhinestones and glitter than you could ever have kept track of.

But you shined under the sun like a mirrorball, so it all felt worth it. Even though you swear there’s still glue stuck under your nails.

Your friends around you shared water, staying hydrated as the show starting neared. Wetleg had already preformed their final set. And tears had been randomly springing on you all day.

You heard the power in the crowd as they sung the prelude songs, goosebumps dotting over your body as you realise he’s probably able to hear it now.

Soon enough he’ll be looking at it. In all of its 100,000 people glory.

“You okay lovely?” Sofia, an Italian girl you’d met in the line checked in on you.

You nodded with a heartfelt smile. The whole experience was so bittersweet. Full of lasts.

“I’m okay. Just so so proud.” You nodded and she softly chuckles.

Her outfit was an electric blue that contrasted her tan skin, “I have some granola bars in my bag if you’re hungry? You should eat, we’ve been standing in the heat all day.”

Your best friend from your other side peered over, drawn back into conversation after being lost in the magic of the crowd surrounding her.

“On cry number— let me guess— 24 of the day?” She said it teasingly.

“Saying that as if you don’t already have mascara stains half down your face.” You grumble back jokingly, leaning your head back to look at the pastel blue sky.

You turned back to Sofia, “We’ll save them for after, maybe lay down on the ground and eat them or something.”

You only said no because you felt like you could probably be sick right now.

“Amore sciocco, troppo testardo il tuo bene, mio dio.” She mutters under her breath with a laugh, shaking her head at you disapprovingly.

“Trash talking her again in Spanish. God I wish I knew how to speak it.” You elbow your best friend at her quip.

You could stay in this moment forever.

As Bohemian Rhapsody begins playing you watch the sun go down, and in this very moment, It is your forever.

You live and breathe every second of it. All the way into peace piece, and as you’re gripping the girls around you for dear life as the lights start to dim along with the setting sun.

Harry coming has the arena screaming so loud it would have been heard for miles. He looks beautiful.

Like a shiny star up on stage. Blowing kisses and sending thank you’s to as many areas of the crowd be possibly could.

Mouthing words in Italian, causing Sofia to almost pass out beside you she screeched that hard the first time he did it.

And him counting in Golden with their language, speaking proudly into the mic— “Uno, due— uno, due, tres!”

“HES— WHAT THE FUCK!!” You’re laughing, holding her hand as she shouts frantically.

Songs bleed into one after another, going on your part from embarrassing screaming and dancing onto equally embarrassing crying.

The overwhelming feeling of seeing him so close— so damn close you can see each individual sequin on his silver outfit when his on the main stage at his mic stand in the centre.

You don’t even realise he’s doing a sign reading interlude until Sofia hands you yours from where it leant on the bottom of the barricade at your feet.

You were enamoured by him.

Taking the sign, your hands shook a little as he was on the main stage. Right in front of you.

His eyes are scanning the crowd, glancing over some signs and smiling.

“We have a choice tonight,” he begins, voice echoing through the speakers.

“we can either move quickly through signs, in which case, we’ll be able to give you some more songs!” An array of screams come from everyone, and you feel sick just at the prospect he was suggesting. The fact he could pull out any song.

He chuckles, walking further towards the area of the pit where you are, “Just an idea, just an idea!”

You’re pretty sure the girls are yelling something about him walking over, but you’re stunned at what’s happening overall, and you can’t even process what they’re saying.

But contradictory to what he’d just said. He stops a moment.

From his perspective, he saw a handful of very bright colours in the front of the crowd. One holding up an equally eye catching sign.

But he takes a moment to blink, focus in on the person holding it.

This girl has her eyes locked dead onto him, like as if he moves an inch— something could implode at any moment. Yet it somehow comes across in a flattering way.

And then he reads the sign.

‘you saved me. i cant thank you enough for that. BTW…’

His heart immediately pangs. Already too emotional at this whole event to be reading a sign like that.

You are in shock. Because he certainly just made eye contact with you and he’s been staring at your sign for a few good seconds.

“Can— wait can you turn that for me, love?” His voice falters a little.

As if Harry Styles just asked you to do something, you move with a haste you never had.

However you misinterpreted his question, turning the sign clockwise like as if it was upside down. Feeling a little embarrassed in yourself that it was around the wrong way.

He chuckles into the mic, causing a small uproar at the softness of it.

“Wrong way, it has B-T-W on it so I’m assuming there’s more on the back.”

“Oh, god— sorry!” You shout out to him, it sounding a little shaky, and you can’t lie that tears were threatening to spill from your eyes.

You had waited so fucking long to have a chance to tell him that he genuinely saved your life. And you’re finally doing it.

Also spinning the sign so the back of it is facing him, and his eyes flit gently over it too.

‘you have by far the prettiest smile ever.’ It reads, with a few large red hearts around it, decorated with glitter and rhinestones.

A dimple pops out on his cheek and he covers his mouth with a hand, flattered as ever.

“Why thank you.” He does a little bow as well, and you’re laughing out of shock. You’re interacting with him right now.

He straightens up, “I’m flattered as ever.” Prodding one of his dimples as he shows off just how pretty his smile is.

“And thank you for coming, it means everything to me.” He flushes a little, laughing at himself and your still starstruck reaction.

“You are stronger than you probably think. What’s your name?”

A tear breaks past your waterline, and you call out, “Y/N!”

Both girls at your side are clutching you like no tomorrow, and Harry takes his in-ear out to hear you better.

You call it out again, he makes only one off guess before he gets it. And your name rolling off his accent tongue makes your stomach flip.

“Y/N? That’s right— well that was a pretty good record for name guessing—“ he laughs, walking over as close as he can to the edge of the stage.

He holds the mic up to his mouth, “make some noise for Y/N everyone!”

You are in complete shock as you hear the whole arena cheer and holler for you, and Harry has this wholesome feeling of adoration wash over him as he sees your reaction.

The tears slipping down your pink cheeks. If he could, he honestly would go down there and wipe them off.

Not something he often find himself thinking. Yet here he is.

“Thank you for coming Y/N. What do you say we do some more songs?” He asks, smiling at the shocked raise of your brows.

“Yes, please.” You enthusiastically reply.

“Alright, you heard her. More songs it is!”

And so the show continues on. The second he breaks eye contact and moves away, a sob tears out of you.

You can’t believe that just happened. And the fact the rest of the show— unless you’re delusional, and making this up in your head— he lingers anytime he’s going past where you are. Catching your eyes, and smiling a little wider.

And you’re absolutely a wreck at the speech he makes, even though Sofia has to translate every word that leaves his mouth.

But if that nearly killed you, the piano ballad was honestly your final straw.

You cried so hard you couldn’t see the fucking stage at one point. And you wish you could say you were embarrassed for him to see you as he did one last round of goodbyes. But you couldn’t.

It was all your love and appreciation for him, poured out of you through the tears streaming down your face.

To your disbelief, he stops in front of you again, blowing a kiss to your friends and then one to you.

Bending down a little further to look at you, lips starting to move— from what your could hardly hear, and mostly got from reading his lips, he said ‘thank you, I love you.”

You blow a kiss back.

And before you know it, the show has ended. And there’s this full, yet hollow feeling inside of you.

Like you’re not sure how to feel. You miss him already, but that was by far the most amazing experience of your life.

You’re overwhelmed, with love and gratitude. And you, Sofia and your best friend end up doing what you’d proposed earlier before the show.

Eating chocolate granola bars with your back up against the barricade, tears still falling from your eyes.

———

Post love on tour depression is a real thing.

There is no normal explanation for having to force yourself to get up to have an amazing brunch in Italy of all places.

But 2 days after the show day, you’re doing just that. Dressing in a nice summer outfit at the very least, and taking your LOT bag with you.

The streets aren’t too busy considering it’s midday, and you make your way through them peacefully. Stoping to peak into stores, or take photos of little things you like every now and again.

And all your adventuring leads you to a beautiful little corner-cafe. One that the second you step foot into, you are comforted by its cozy feel & strong aroma of coffee.

The building itself had all its historic bones, but had been modernised. Fitted with sleek wooden floors and new furniture. Walls painted a crisp white to brighten up the already light filled room.

You find the menu hanging above where the counter is, on large pretty chalkboards.

You’re mulling over what to get when you hear a voice from beside you.

It causes you to jump a little at it’s unexpectedness, “I like your bag.”

It’s said with the tone that you can tell someone is smiling. And you turn to greet the person who had just spoken to you.

That’s when you’re met with a sight that knocks the wind from you.

Beside you— standing tall, with his tousled brown curls and rolled up linen long-sleeve is quite literally the man you saw on stage 2 nights ago.

“Oh my god—“ you jump a little at the realisation, it hitting you like a train within seconds. But you’re trying to keep you voice down, as to not cause some kind of scene.

He laughs at your stunned reaction, the way your ringed hand goes over your mouth. It’s a reaction he’s accustomed to. But the way your pretty features portray the expression has him all the more intrigued.

He does his classic introduction, “Hi, love. I’m harry.” Sticking his hand out, smiling. Like as if you didn’t know.

“I— well I did notice that.” You rush out in a nervous laugh. Glancing around looking for some kind of film camera, gauging if this is a set up and not a coincidence.

You’re left realising it’s just the two of you, and some older guy with a newspaper a few metres away at a window seat.

But no one with a camera or phone out filming this interaction.

You shake his hand after a moment of hesitation, telling yourself mentally you’re not going to cry as your relish the feeling of his calloused fingertips against the base of your wrist.

“Hi…” You flush profusely.

“What are you ordering?” He smiles at you, and your eyes are so obviously darting over his every feature.

Which you feel like you couldn’t stop from happening when he’s this close, and you’re able to fully see the plains of his beautiful face.

The structure of his jawline— that’s dotted with a light stubble—his cupids bow lips, the definition in his cheekbones. And fuck his eyes.

That are very intensely locked onto yours…

“Oh. I’m sorry. I…” you fumble for words a little, “probably like a tea. That’s usually my go to.”

He nods, “let me get it for you, please. How do you have it?”

“No, no. It’s okay, you don’t need to do that.” You insist immediately, because even though the gestures small, it feels like too much.

“Y/N.” He tuts gently.

“Weird that you remember that.” You think aloud, unable to filter the shock at the fact he just said your name. Even though the show was only 2 days ago, when he learnt it.

“Of course I do. You had quite the sign. I won’t lie, it made me tear up a bit.” He laughs, pushing a stray lock of hair out of his eyes.

“Well, It was true. Not to be cheesy or anything, but your music genuinely means everything to me.” You say carefully. Not wanting to come across as weird.

“And love on tour was one of the best experiences of my life. So… thank you for that.”

“Thank you.” He smiled at your shyness. And you recall the fact you told him he had a pretty smile.

Prettiest smile. The fact he knows you think that?

You wonder if he’s thought the same thing at all in the last 5 minutes.

“Your support means as much to me. Wouldn’t be able t’do what I do if it weren’t for people like you.”

“Now, how you have your tea?” He reiterates, asking for an answer, not for another polite declination.

“I— okay. Since it’s clear you’re not going to take no for an answer.” You sigh. Corners of your mouth upturning anyway at his stubborn ways.

You rattle off how you have it, and he nods, mentally noting it down like this is going to be a regular occurrence.

He walks over to the counter and you shuffle over to the side that you’ll pick up the order from. Watching carefully as he goes up, you take in his much more causal appearance to the usual extravagance of the outfits he adorns on stage.

Hes got a pair of denim shorts on—strong legs on display— paired with a white longsleeve that’s rolled up his fore arms.

You avert your gaze to the older Italian man at the register, clueless to who he is serving.

Until a younger girl, say 15, walks from the back room and does the biggest double take youve ever witnessed.

Harry has to be used to it, because there was no way anyone could miss that.

You’re feeling like you’re in a parallel universe. Because Harry is just casually strolling back over to you, like you’ve known each other for more than a total of two, 5 minute interactions.

You take a breath, reminding yourself simply that he is a human. Just like you are. He wakes up in the morning, has bad days and good days, has habits and routines he follows— just like anyone else.

You keep this in consideration as you open your mouth to speak, “Thank you for doing that. How have you been?”

He smiles at your shy tone, a tiny wholesome feeling bubbling up at your question.

“I’m good, honestly. It’s been a big start to the year. I’m excited to take some time off even though wrapping it up the other night was really hard.” He nods, eyes casually trailing the man who was making the drinks.

“If it makes any difference, I was sobbing like a baby at pretty much every point of the show.” You laughed.

“I did see your very tear stained cheeks.” He shocks himself little with his continuation,

“Would’ve jumped down and given you a hug if I had the bloody time.” And he smiles with gratification as you mask your shocked reaction as much as possible. However, tiny little micro-movements in your face were still popping through. “I went a little overtime with the speech.”

Just human to human. You drew a tiny breath through your nose, “Which was great by the way. I mean my friend had to translate the whole thing, but was also another tear jerker.”

He goes to say something else, interrupted by the call of his name from the counter.

In which he collects the drinks from the lovely man, smiling at him with a warm thank you before turning to come back to you.

“Here you go, darling.” He hands over yours, and his green eyes look bright as ever.

The darling makes your stomach flip. He’s British, they use pet names like this in passing conversation often. But fuck if you didn’t know any better you’d think there was a chance he was flirting with you.

“Thank you. You really didn’t have to, but I appreciate it.” You repeat.

“You have a different accent, you’re not from Italy no?” He interjects and you’re a little confused at the sudden change of topic.

“No I’m not from here…?” you laugh.

“So you’ve travelled all this way to come see me I’m assuming, the least I can do is buy you a tea. Think of it as a thank you.”

He tests the waters a little further, “i don’t usually stay in cafes for overly long but, if you have time to sit for a bit…”

“You continue to amaze me.” You chuckle, slowly following behind him as he pulls up a chair, back to the window.

“You also made me a very flattering sign. So im just being courteous, as a way to return the favour.” He smirks almost. And you’re honestly not strong enough to endure this.

“And that little piano thing you did? Is this compensation for my mental health?” You hold the cup up and he lets out a surprised laugh at your gentle quip.

“Yes, I’ve heard word that it came across as emotional as I’d intended.”

“You could hear a pin drop in the whole arena.” You nodded, taking a sip of the tea he’d bought you.

“I was so worried I was gonna fuck it up somehow.” He shakes his head, hand running through his hair as though he was anxious just at the thought.

“It sounded amazing, Harry. Made me feel a lot how fine line did when I first listened to it.”

He looks sincere with gratitude as you talk. And it stays that way as he continues on conversation with you.

You know heaps about him— you’re a fangirl that’s practically your job— yet he doesn’t know anything about you. Leaving him curious about many aspects of your life, and also with plenty of questions. Ones he really can’t believe he is even asking given you’re a fan, and he’s never actually done this before.

Whatever this is, because it felt a lot like a first date. With the way he asked where you were from, who you came to Italy with, where you grew up.

The whole lot. Your drinks both long since finished, but the questions still flowing between you two. Like there was never enough information to be learned.

He was interrupted by a call, and it almost popped this little bubble you’d made around yourselves.

Which possibly wasn’t a bad thing for him. But it served as a reality check for you.

You’re still just a fan at the end of the day. Even though your not sure how that term stands after he knows about your favourite foods, or childhood stories from your younger years. Because you feel like now that he knows that, the dynamic feels different to you.

But most of all you dreaded the fact you had to say goodbye again. But now you have to say it knowing that he walks away from this knowing things personal to you.

You realise he’s on the phone to his mum as he talks, “Yea, tell Gem to grab them anyway… I’ll be back soonish.”

He glances up at your after a moment of brief silence, “I’m just out with a friend of mine I… bumped into. So I’ll see you soon, okay?”

A friend of his?

“Alright, bye, I love you.”

And just like that the phone hung up.

“I’m feeling very special at my label. A friend of yours.” You laugh, but not lying whatsoever.

“Was m’mum. We’re having a late lunch at her BNB.” He explained, and the fact he didn’t object his choice of wording meant even more to you than anything.

You stare at him a moment, both mutually realising that this moment was seemingly going to have to end at some point.

“I don’t often do things like this.” He shrugs, watching your eyes train on random objects around the room as you get lost in thought.

“What do you mean?” You ask.

“Never sat down with a fan and just had a drink. It was lovely, thank you for being so polite.” He smiles again at you.

It surprised him just how far he went with it. But you had this gentle aura about you. He knew of all people, you were safe to share this private slice of himself with.

“Thank you for buying my drink… to have spent this time talking, it— well it meant a lot to me.”

“I would give you my number if my manager wouldn’t kill me.”

As stated, he continues to surprise himself just how far he’s going.

Your brain stalls at his comment.

“You could just have mine? Buy a burner phone and text me off it.” You make the first suggestion that comes to mind and he barks out a laugh.

“Could just reaffirm that you weren’t going to sell my number off to fans on Twitter?”

“Ah, that could also work too.” You nod, raising your brows.

He pulls his phone from his pocket, and your heart genuinely palpitates. Because how the fuck had you managed this.

“Gimmie yours, if you’d like?” He slides it over, and you feel like you’re picking up something with more value than just a phone. I mean it’s Harry Styles’ phone of all things.

You begin to type it in, glancing up as his gaze is trained on you, “how many numbers of fans do you have banked up in here?”

He rolls his eyes at your tease, still smiling, “I’ll have you know you’ll be the first. If my mums counts though, then only two.”

“I just…” he pauses, pursing his lips as he looks for the right words, “knew I’d regret it if I didn’t have a way to get in touch with you. I’d say we’ve got a lot in common and it’s always nice to meet new people. And I don’t want to be thinking later ‘wow, she was lovely, wish I could have kept in touch’. Y’know?”

You send yourself a text, just a simple ‘:)’ so it saves in his recent messages. “Well, I suppose I’d be a little sad too. Probably start sending emails to your manager trying to find a way to get in touch again.”

He laughs at this, standing up from his chair and pocketing his phone in his shorts once you hand it back to him.

You also rise from the table, watching his movements keenly.

“Makes this part less sad.” He says, in reference to the impending goodbye, “I’m not leaving Italy for a little bit though, and if you’re sticking around as well, maybe I can buy your more cups of tea— to make you feel even more guilty about it, of course.”

You let out a soft chuckle, “Yea, I’m not leaving for a little while…”

He walks to your side of the table, not hesitating to pull you into a hug that leaves you winded.

You freeze a millisecond before jumping to embrace it. Enjoying the gentle yet strong feeling of his body holding yours. And the way his hands are ever-so-slightly caressing your lower back.

“Thanks for hanging out, alright? Don’t be shy to message me.” He murmurs into your hair.

“I— okay. I won’t. Thank you, Harry.” You smile into the crook of his neck.

He gives a final squeeze before pulling back. Fighting the internal urge to press a little kiss to your temple.

“I’ll see you around, hopefully. Bye Y/N.” He gives you a final smile before waving goodbye, and heading out the cafe.

Your head is reeling as he exits. Unsure if you just imagined that whole thing. You needed someone to pinch you, because as far as your concerned that whole interaction was something you dreamed up.

You check your phone to see the time.

1:53pm

1 new notification

Unknown Number | :)

So that actually did just happen.

———

To reaffirm that you weren’t the only person in the world to witness what happened today, you see a tweet reposted on an update account that reads,

so, i just saw harry styles in the cafe i work at, and he sat down and drank a tea with someone he talked to at a show. not naming the interaction for privacy but like… what the fuck?

And secretly you smile. Maybe this is something you’ll keep to yourself for a bit. Like he’s a new secret friend of yours.

———

part two!!

[levilxvr]

here’s my belated vday levi smut :) was busy this week and didn’t have time to finish it HSJFD

cw: nsfw, breeding, fem!reader

valentine’s day is one of many special days marked out on levi’s calendar. Every year he books a room at one of those luxurious hotels in the city so that you and him can enjoy a special night in the comfort of the cool, silky sheets.

As cliche as it sounds, levi loves sprinkling rose petals in the shape of a heart on the bed- for you to admire before the careful arrangement gets destroyed minutes later.. Because how can he resist himself when that pretty velvet lace hugs your figure so perfectly?

He was honestly nervous about purchasing it, worried you wouldn’t like it or the size might be off. He was definitely overthinking, though. When you slipped out of the bathroom wearing only the set he gave you his jaw dropped. Then he’s all over you in seconds, feeling you up and down as his heartbeat speeds up and his cheeks grow warm. You can barely resist his featherlight touches, fiddling with the clip of your bra as the back of your knees hit the mattress.

Levi instantly dives down, lips locking with yours as he kisses you passionately before reaching down to your lower region. Without warning he yanks delicate fabric to the side, a small spot of wetness pooled in the centre. you can feel the thin material rip slightly and wince.

“levi, be gentle!”

“don’t care, I’ll get a new one.” His dark hair drapes over his forehead as he bends down and takes one of your breasts in his mouth, sucking and swirling his tongue around your nipple as his skilled fingers tease your clit. Your back arches as a ripple of pleasure runs through your body, breathing in the smell of levi’s citrusy cologne and a hint of rose. You can make out the sharp lines of his face in the soft glow of the candles, and hear his ragged breaths as he feels your walls clench around his fingers tightly.

His movements aren’t rushed- he plans to take his own sweet time making you feel good, since he’s got the entire night to show how much he loves you. Just before you cum he slips his fingers out and smirks, dragging your release away as you beg him to continue.

“ssh.. patience.” levi leans down and kisses your cheek tenderly, hands supporting himself on either side of your head as he guides his cock past your folds. His spongy tip stretches you out as he buries himself balls deep inside you, filling you up so nicely you can practically feel him throbbing. You’re so tight and wet for him and only him, and knowing he’s the only one that makes you feel this way gets him even more hot and restless.

“fuck…I love you so much, look at how well you’re taking me darling, you’re doing so good.” His low voice sends a shiver down your spine as he grips your legs and throw them over his shoulders. Then you feel a soft, cold pillow under your hips as he tucks it there so he can go deeper, angling himself perfectly against your g spot as he picks up the pace. You glance up and down his figure and notice the sheen of sweat coating his pale skin, his swollen lips parted as small moans and pants escape.

“I’m.. close, so so close… where do you want it?”

“inside.”

He doesn’t hesitate, pelvis slamming against yours as he stills and cums so hard you can feel it coating your insides.

“god..” he mumbles, catching his breath as he slowly lowers himself onto you. “can we go again?”

“sure, we’ve got all night.”

[bokuroar]

12:17 — few years later | 🛬❤️‍🩹🎇 iwaizumi h.

“you’ll be there, right? right? right?!”

if it’s anotamically possible to cut your ear off without passing out because of oikawa’s incessant nagging, you would’ve done it the first few seconds he begged you to accept kuroo’s reunion dinner invite before the all-star game. you were seijoh’s babysitter manager after all so, according to kuroo, it’s just right you’re there, in which you only replied with a i’ll think about it.

“haji’s gonna be there.” oikawa says in his annoying singsong voice and you swear you could hear his smirk right through your phone.

you bite your lip as if oikawa could see you blushing and smiling through the call. after years of graduating from high school, you wouldn’t have thought just hearing his name will elicit the same effect on you.

“and?” you reply nonchalantly because you would rather crawl under the earth and bury yourself alive than let oikawa confirm your cutesy, little high school crush on iwaizumi never really went away.

oikawa being your best friend saw through your reply and snorted, “pft, if i know you’ve been looking at his instagram every night before you sleep just because you’re too much of a scaredy cat to hit him up. don’t act as if you don’t zoom in on his shirtless pi—“

“oh my god, fine! i’ll go to this freaking dinner so please for the love god shut the hell up! ” you exasperatedly sigh wanting to tolerate oikawa’s teasing no longer not because it’s untrue but because you felt like you were caught committing a crime. it’s a curse and a gift you have a best friend that knows everything about you.

you hear oikawa shriek through your phone in celebration and about being there at 6, so you mutter a good bye before he lays out a plan that involves dragging you wherever into the night.

as if on cue, your phone lights up with a notification from your old group chat when the call ended,

✉️ t. oikawa: see you all on saturday!!!! no backsies!!!!!! :p

you roll your eyes knowing he’s talking about you. you were about to hit send on a message something about being him still being an annoying ass when another bubble popped in your screen that made you rewrite everything you were about to say.

✉️ h. iwaizumi: im back too 🇯🇵 see you guys :)

✉️ you: i’ll be there ☺️

come saturday, you’re standing in front of the restaurant which every nook and cranny you’re familiar with as this was a popular go-to after-school-dinner-place during your younger years with the team. you try your best not to look frantic while you check your phone at least every 10 seconds to tell oikawa “wru >:(”

you were about to hit the call button when you hear somebody clear their throat. as a reaction, you step away from where you were standing thinking you were probably blocking the entryway.

“sorry i was just w— oh. haji?” you take these few seconds to take him in—the way his shirt hugged his biceps, the watch that also somehow added to his attractiveness, his skin that’s more tanned, his freshly cut hair, and his smile. god, that smile. so many things have changed about him since he last visited home but his kind, subtly giddy smile still reached his eyes.

“been awhile, hasn’t it?” iwaizumi sheepishly say and you hold back a gasp when he scratches the back of his head that flexed his arm.

“it’s been.. yeah? yeah, it has. i mean. yes..” you nervously laugh, mentally kicking yourself for tripping over your words.

you feel your cheeks redden, not from the cold air of the darkening day but because of the manly, handsome laugh that bubbles from iwa’s chest. “watcha doin’ out here, though? waiting for a someone or..” he drags his sentence hoping you don’t hear his silent prayer that you are romantically available.

you snort before you could even think about it, “no, c’mon it’s not like that.” you laugh and went on to tell the tale of oikawa begging you to come, “i’m waiting for that idiot tooru who went several measures to make sure i’m here.”

“you two were thick as thieves, weren’t ya? i’m glad you stayed in touch even if that shithead went abroad.” iwaizumi smiles and you can’t resist staring at how he threw his head back when he laughed at oikawa’s typical antics.

“wish we did too, y’know. i missed ya.” iwaizumi suddenly confesses, “i just found myself wanting to talk to you when i was out there.”

to say your heart felt like it dropped on your feet was an understatement. it’s like everything froze—the leaves halted midair, the world went silent and the only sound you could hear was the loud thump of your heart. all what you manage to let out is, “o-oh? you did? really?”

iwaizumi looks at you like you just asked the most ridiculous question, “‘course i did. we talked every day then! remember how i used to walk you home after our trainings then stop by that dang old ramen place that was there since forever? missed hanging ‘round with you and the team ‘tis all.”

you smile as you look at the ground, shyly but fondly recollecting all the simple but sweetest moments with iwaizumi you cherish so much. with his sudden reminiscing, you recall the sort-of debate you had with him because he kept on insisting he should always walk you home.

“r-right. the team. yeah, i missed them too.” you say as you shake your head along with the thought of having a chance of romance with your longtime friend.

“we should go inside. fuck that tardy tooru i think a lot’s of them here.” you casually laugh and walk towards the door until you felt a hand on your wrist.

iwaizumi shoots you a grin, “what do you say the two of us go grab that ramen? for old time’s sake?”

a/n: so .. uh … im back ! hope everyone’s still here 😅🫣 anw this was supposed to be just a drabble but i got a lil carried away & im alr thinking of writing a pt 2 .. wdyt hehe

[artiststarme]

Part 1 of a new thing I’m working on. It only gets juicier from here! I hope you guys enjoy it and if you have any name ideas, please send them my way.

~*~*~*~

Steve was confused most of the time, everyone knew it. Especially since his run-ins with the Upside Down, he never had any idea what was happening. From not sensing the obvious when everyone else grabbed a flashlight to missing blatant social cues, it wasn’t unusual for something to go over his head. And yet, sitting on the little Byers’ floor of his bedroom while Will paced around in front of him, ranting to the air, was the most befuddled Steve had ever been.

Of all of the kids, Steve was never very close to Will. He was the shyest of all the kids and he didn’t seem to need an older role model like Dustin or Max did. He already had Jonathan and his mom, two people that would risk their lives to save him so he never really needed Steve. Don’t get him wrong, Steve loved the kid. He just didn’t have a bond with him the same way he did with the other kids. Nonetheless, when Will asked him for a quick word as Mrs. Byers spoke to El and Jonathan said his goodbyes to Nancy, Steve followed him to his bare room without complaint. He didn’t know what he expected, maybe some advice about girls or hobbies or maybe just Will asking him to look out for the other kids. Something expected, something mundane. But that’s not what Steve received.

Will stopped stalking back and forth, took a deep breath and said, “I’m gay.”

He cringed as he said the words, immediately losing his confidence and breaking eye contact with Steve. And Steve just blinked.

“Okay… Is that all?”

He didn’t really know how to answer that. It didn’t really matter to him if Will liked other dudes and it certainly didn’t change the way he saw the kid. It was still confusing that Will was choosing to tell HIM of all people, he had no idea what about him made everyone want to come out to him with Will being the second person to do so in as many days. But regardless, there was nothing that the kids could do that would make Steve turn on him.

It may not have been the most tactful way of voicing his acceptance but Will felt a weight lifted despite it. He knelt down to give a thankful hug to Steve who returned his hug awkwardly.

“Thanks Steve, I knew out of everyone that you would understand.” Steve was about to ask why he of all people would understand but Will continued, “No one else knows yet, not even Mike and uh… I really like him, Steve.”

All thoughts left Steve’s mind as he automatically started insulting Will’s taste. “Mike? Mike Wheeler? What the hell, dude. I have no problem with you liking guys but Mike? Jesus Christ, he’s like the worst person you could choose. His attitude sucks, he’s got beady little eyes full of anger, and he’s kind of a douche.”

Will looked stuck somewhere between amused and offended. “But… he’s my best friend? He’s always been there and I, I think I love him a little bit. What do I do?”

Steve sighed and put a heavy hand on his shoulder, his bruised face grimacing in sympathy. “You’re young so you have plenty of time to fall for other guys. Move on. Trust me, you do not want to date a Wheeler. Especially Mike. My god, kid, have a little taste. I can understand Nancy but Mike? No way.”

“But, but you’re sure you’re okay with me… being gay. I like boys, not girls,” Will prodded.

“I know what it means, Byers. It doesn’t change anything. Liking boys doesn’t make you any different and you’re still another one of the runts to me, alright?” He ducked his head to meet Will’s eyes and only when he nodded did he put space between him. “Good. You have nothing to worry about when it comes to me. I’ll always be here if you need me.”

“Can I call you? After we move to California?” Will asked with trepidation.

“Hell yeah, I’ll be around. You can call me, El can call me, hell even Jonathan can call me if he wants.”

That last part got him a weird look in response. “... you want Jonathan to call you?”

“I mean, sure, if he wants to. He probably won’t because I’m no Nancy and we’re not really friends but it would be nice to have people calling,” Steve shrugged and ignored Will’s look of appall.

“I thought you wouldn’t like Jonathan because he stole your girlfriend.”

He frowned, “nah, there were other things wrong between Nance and I long before your brother came around. He’s pretty cool and he’s got an awesome little brother too, what’s not to like?”

Will smiled and they sat in silence for a few moments before Steve cleared his throat, said his last goodbyes, and made his way home. He slunk back to bed to sleep off the oncoming migraine and pain in his beaten face. Steve didn’t think much more about Will’s admission or their emotional conversation. Instead, he focused on the warm feeling in his chest that came with two people trusting him enough to be honest to him, to be themselves without fear around him. Robin and Will were the first people who trusted him with something important beyond reputation or popularity. It made him feel like he was finally doing something right, like he had finally moved past all of the King Steve bullshit and he’d never felt better about it.

[urhoneycombwitch]

honey, I’m home

🍯 honey flavour: Xmas fluff and smut drabble

🐝 the beebees: linecook!Eddie x reader

wc: 2.5k

Content warnings: soft dom Eddie, smut, oral (f receiving), reader has fem anatomy, gratuitous use of the nickname ‘princess’, Christmas fluff

foreword: so many delish linecook!Eddie ideas out there I’m throwing my hat into the ring. holiday edition. i wrote this while hiding in my room from relatives lol. my first time w/longer-form on tumblr like this send help I’m scared!!!!

Linecook!Eddie working a long shift at the diner ‘cuz he picked up shitty Christmas Eve hours to be with you all day Christmas, which he swore was worth it despite your earlier protests.

You’ve got some of the Gang over at the trailer helping you wrap presents; everyone’s hands are busy with mugs of cocoa and Scotch tape and too-long ribbons.

Robin and Steve are squabbling over a prized tube of wrapping paper on the couch, Max and El are stretched out on the floor stringing popcorn garlands, and you’re overseeing Dustin’s attempts at bow-tying on the coffee table when Eddie walks in.

And he’s scuffing his boots on the mat, shaking snow from his hair, sidling up to you when you stand to greet him and pressing his face into your neck. You squeak at his cold nose and you can feel him smile against your skin as he hugs you tighter.

“Are you gonna keep making out with your girlfriend or are you gonna help us?” Dustin grouses, irritable from all the energy he’s expended on the bows that just don’t look quite right.

You move to pull away, feeling a lil chastised (by a teenager, no less) but Eddie slips his strong arm around your waist, locking you in place, not bothering to break eye contact with you as he says resolutely, “I’m gonna keep making out with my girlfriend.”

He plants one on you right in front of everyone and although your first instinct is to feel embarrassed it’s quickly drowned out by the desire to keep kissing him, because my god can that boy kiss. And he does. With gusto. Ringed hands on either side of your face, thumbs stroking the apples of your cheeks.

There are girlish giggles coming from the pair on the floor; Dustin’s grumbling about needing bleach for his eyes, Steve calls out something about you and Eddie getting a room.

Without missing a beat or taking his lips from yours, Eddie lifts a hand from your face to flip the boy on the couch off. When he finally does pull back, it’s just enough to ask, quietly, as if you’re the only people in the room- “You have dinner yet, sweetheart?”

You shake your head, his one hand still resting on your cheek, a little out of breath- “No, uh, nope. We were waitin’ for you, thought we’d order pizza, or…”

You trail off. He looks downright fucking beautiful, in the soft, glowy Christmas lighting, white work tanktop peeking out from his black and blue flannel, glint of silver chains at his neck. You haven’t seen him since early this morning, when he’d pressed a kiss to your half-awake head and left for work. Now he was here, smelling like woodsmoke and maple syrup and looking at you with those doey eyes and all you want to do is press kisses against his adam’s apple until he melts under you and why oh why had you invited people over again…?

“I’m going to make my beautiful girlfriend here something to eat. Would any of you miscreants care for some grub?” Eddie finally turns his attention to your group of friends, who all claim hunger in equal measure, and you follow him into the kitchen.

You watch as he starts assembling a variety of mixing bowls and utensils on the counter, whistling as he goes; you hug your arms against yourself, dragging a sock foot against the tile.

“I can help,” you offer as Eddie kneels beside you to produce a waffle iron from the cabinet by your legs. “I can stir things, or make sides, o-or…”

Eddie’s warm palm is sliding up the back of your calf, causing you to stutter. He nuzzles his nose against your plaid pajama-covered thigh, briefly, like he can’t help it, before standing back up.

“With these hands?” He teases gently, setting the waffle maker down and pulling your hand to his lips. “Nah. Gotta keep my girl soft.”

You let him kiss the back of your hand and you rotate it in his grasp, palm-up now, his lips pressing against the center there, and you try again to get him to let you help, because he just worked a 12-hour shift and you know he must be bone-tired by now.

With your voice barely above a whisper- “I could… get the plates out…”

One final kiss to your palm, and then he’s looking at you with such fondness, calloused thumb tapping where his lips just were. “Does breakfast for dinner strike your fancy, good lady?”

When you nod, he says with affectionate sternness, “Good. Now go sit pretty in the living room and get out of my kitchen.”

So you obey, cozying up to Robin on the couch to help her with the last few presents amid the bickering still taking place between her and Steve. Nat King Cole serenades from the tinny radio speakers above the clattering in the kitchen, and Dustin’s mood improves drastically once El offers to show him the ropes of popcorn stringing, half-tied bows abandoned at the coffee table.

You look up periodically from your tape sticking to check on Eddie- at some point, he’d put his hair in a low bun and tied his flannel around his hips, the heat of the kitchen causing his bangs to go limp. He’s in good spirits despite the sleepiness you know he’s fighting, humming along to the radio while he coaxes perfectly golden waffles from the iron and onto the Charlie Brown-themed plates you two had bought at the thrift store for fifty cents apiece last summer.

He sweeps into the living room with plates of steaming food balanced on his forearms, his stability impeccable and arms deceptively strong from years of hefting shit around in the kitchen. Obviously, you’re the first to get your plate, dropped off with a little kiss to the crown of your head, but no one’s complaining this time around because they’re too busy chewing.

Eddie’s personalized each order, of course- extra syrup to satiate El’s sweet tooth, blueberries baked into Steve’s stack, a side of peanut butter for Robin paired with a thick handled-butterknife.

Eleven looks up from where she sits cross-legged beside Max and says in a voice that leaves no room for disagreement, “You are the best cook in Hawkins.”

Eddie beams at her around a mouthful of waffle, knocking his shoulder into yours lightly- “You hear that, honey? Supergirl-approved chef at your service.”

Sticky plates get scraped clean and pushed aside, a rosy fullness lulling everyone into easy conversation about various holiday plans happening tomorrow. Eddie’s settled into your side on the couch, sliding his hand back and forth absently across your thigh, and you can tell by the vacant stare he’s giving the far wall that he’s running on fumes (though he’d never admit it in front of anyone but you, all too happy to give and give until there’s nothing left).

So you make the call for the both of you, giving a dramatic stretch and yawn- “All right, gang, I’m beat. Let’s call it for tonight and pick back up on Christmas?”

There’s a bustle of activity for the next few minutes; you and Steve hunt down everyone’s winter gear, getting the kids back into their gloves and warm hats while Robin helps Eddie with the dishes. In a flurry of see-you-tomorrows and calls for safe driving, Eddie pulls the front door shut and snicks the top lock closed.

“Finally,” he groans, and you can’t hold back the laugh that bubbles from you with the speed at which he has you caged against the wall, trailing a line of kisses down your throat, his sleepy state seemingly abandoned for a much hornier one.

“Somethin’ funny?” he muses, before sucking at the spot where your shoulder and neck join, your laugh catching and rolling into a gasp instead.

“Didn’t think so,” Eddie chuckles, darkly, against the hollow of your throat, adding a scrape of teeth over the bruise that’s sure to bloom. “You gonna be a good girl and let me have dessert?”

Your brain is already going fuzzy as he bullies his hands underneath your shirt, cold rings sending shivers across your body as they slide against your lower back, the plush curve of your hip, dipping down down down.

“Don’t you wanna-” your voice comes out shaking, interrupted by another gasp as Eddie’s hands find the bare meat of your ass and he squeezes, bordering that fine line between too harsh and too good that he knows you love- “-shower, or clean up a bit? I can run you a bath-”

Eddie slips his denim-clad thigh between yours, and fuck the presure is just right as he helps your core roll over his knee with his solid grip.

“I think…” he purrs low against the shell of your ear, grinning when your breath gets all shallow and quick, “you should come on my fingers like I’ve been dreamin’ about all day. And then we’ll talk about cleaning up.”

He makes a compelling argument. Resigned, you let your head thunk back against the wall as he sinks to his knees, pulling your pants down your legs as he goes.

You’ve soaked through your underwear at this point, which might’ve been embarrassing except for the fact that Eddie’s told you before how much it gets him going, evident now by the outline of his hard cock straining against his jeans.

“All for me, princess?” he murmurs, face so close to your clothed core that you can feel his breath.

He gets like this sometimes, downright reverent, and you know any attempt you make to hide from him will just wind him up more, so you fight that instinct to balk as he parts your thighs with tender, worshipful hands, and instead whisper “Yeah, Eds. All for you.”

He hums in approval, nosing at the front of your panties, hooking his long, deft fingers into the sides of them before tugging them down your thighs and tossing them aside.

“There she is,” he croons, as if it’s just him and your pussy now. “Don’t cry for me, baby, I’m here now, gonna take care of you…”

You jolt forward into his grasp as he slides his middle finger against your sticky folds, your hands seeking purchase and ending up in the soft curls at the top of his head that didn’t make it to the bun at the nape of his neck.

“All day, I work over a hot griddle,” Eddie mutters as he hooks your knee over his shoulder. “I make shit wages and shittier tips,” he continues, monologuing, the smug son of a bitch, his breath fanning over your now-exposed core, one hand coming up to rest on the softness of your stomach, pinning you in place right where he wants you- “And you know what makes it all worth it, baby?”

He pauses just before his mouth makes contact with your pussy, flicking his gaze up to you to assess the damage he’s done so far, his pupils blown wide with lust, nearly eclipsing the soft brown of his irises. You’re panting now, in little fits and gasps, doing your best to be gentle with the weaved grasp you have on his hair.

“You,” he says, before closing the gap and sucking your clit into his mouth.

“Oh fuck,” you whimper, back arching off the wall, seizing at his hair and unconsciously tugging his mouth tighter against you.

Eddie hums again, the vibrations sparking more pleasure against your throbbing clit. You could probably come from this stimulation alone but Eddie isn’t wasting any time, hungry for you to fall apart for him as he works one of his dextrous fingers into your dripping core.

You cry out wordlessly as he finds that spot with the pad of his finger, stroking against it, purling his tongue around your clit in tandem with the thrust of his hands, adding another finger as you clench around him.

He’s only been at it for a few minutes but you’re already dangerously close to the edge, lust burning and twisting in your stomach, your body shuddering in his hold.

“C’mon, pretty girl,” he’s saying into the juncture of your thigh, pleading- with you or your cunt, hard to say- as his hand on your stomach slips down, using the thumb of that hand to press your clit against your pubic bone, a filthy slick grind that has you whimpering expletives.

“Fuck, Eddie, fu-uck…”

One of your legs is still over his shoulder, thighs spasming with your impending orgasm, and from your higher vantage point you watch as Eddie’s hand that isn’t busy between your legs drops from the outside of your thigh to his own lap.

He grinds shamelessly into the heel of his hand, rutting his clothed cock into his palm, chasing his own high as he adds another finger into your clenching core, setting a brutal pace that matches the speed at which he’s moving against himself.

It’s this picture- Eddie, on his knees, mouth on your clit, touching himself- that is your undoing. Your orgasm is blinding, crashing through you like a wave, curling the top half of your body around Eddie’s head as you cradle his skull against your core.

By the sound of it, Eddie’s coming, too, moans buried into your cunt as he wrings out the last of your orgasm, the squelch of your walls cinched taut around his fingers.

You have to physically push his head away with the tips of your fingers to get him to ease up- you know he could easily go another two, three rounds before being satisfied but your limbs are going weak and trembly and you want him close, that rush of endorphins leaving you hazy.

And Eddie knows, instantly, ‘cuz he always does, so good at reading you. He lets your leg slip from his shoulder and stands to kiss you, the tangy taste of you on his lips.

“You’re so hot,” he says, thunking his foreheard against yours, holding you close. “I meant what I said, y’know- think about you all day. Gotta take trips to the walk-in freezer just to stop the boners.”

He looks overly pleased when you laugh, giddily, and soothes his hands up and down your bare arms.

“You gonna shower with me? Didn’t even getta see the girls,” he laments, dropping his gaze to the front of your shirt, rucked-up from his wandering hands but still very much on.

“Anything for you, chef,” you indulge, giggling again as Eddie gives a kiss each to the tops of your breasts.

_____________________

if you’re reading this PLEASE know my anons/requests are open I am in desperate need of more ST mutuals!!!

[merlucide]

would you ever consider making a part 2 for the Blue Lock Icks! headcanons but with other characters? the one you made had me struggling to keep my composure while at work omg it's sooooo accurate

BLLK BOYS “ICKS” PT2

Notes: OMG STOP REALLY??? that makes me so happy omg tysm?? <33

characters: Isagi, Aryu, Chigiri, Shidou, Oliver, Otoya

pls again, don’t take this seriously 💀

PT1 PT2 “ICKS” BLLK BOYS GET

ISAGI YOICHI

Says O-possum instead of opossum

Uses the “😁” to show he’s happy

default wallpaper

2019 humor

scared of clowns (same Isagi, same)

worst fashion sense ever. just think of a white guy in his 30s in the year of 2017

ARYU JYUBEI

SQUEAKY SHOES

Licks his finger before turning the page

uses stereotypes often (not on purpose lol)

Makes sure the barista spelt his name write on his drink

wants to go to Paris just to pose at the Eiffel tower, wear a beret, and eat a baguette (okay but same..)

CHIGIRI HYOUMA

one-ups every thing

Makes over exaggerated faces so you know he’s judging you

Chews gum really loudly

If you move to much in bed he’ll kick you

highlights/ writes in his books

has so many hair products but like one body wash

SHIDOU RYUSEI

Walks up the stairs on all fours

Long ass finger nails (so chipped and have dirt in them)

Sends selfies when he’s on the toilet

knows how to throw it in a circle (he’s really good at it too…)

Eats lemon rines

Likes to sit really close to the screen at the cinema

Barks at dogs

Puts the book face down to bookmark his spot

Says “zoo wee mama”

Idk how to word this but, Shidou:

AIKU OLIVER 

(I know I did him b4 but I wanted to add one more thing)

“Where’s my hug at?”

keeps a toothpick in his mouth

actually calls you babygirl

OTOYA EITA

puts his socks over his sweats

doesn’t grease the pan

Wears hats inside

Sags his pants

smacks lips and it sounds really wet

puts peanut butter on his burgers

licks his fingers after he eats and doesn’t wash them afterwards

bends over at the waist when he is picking smth up

THOSE Naruto fans

Squeezes the middle of the toothpaste

uses a spork

Says “bop”

Says “drip”

Says “on God bro”

Says “You tripping”

Twerked on Karasu once

Owns so many shoes

Has very little milk in his cereal

Only likes chocolate ice cream

Uses blue ink pens

Fav bottled water brand is deer park

Forgets to zip his fly

his LED lights are always on red

ABHAHAHA I’m actually running out of icks

made May 25th 2024

[shibaraki]

STEADY BEGINNINGS ┊ TODOROKI SHOUTO

tags: GN reader, developing relationship (eventual friends to lovers), touch starved shouto, physical affection (hand holding + long hugs), good god the yearning, obliviousness, jealousy, fluff + angst, pro hero shouto, reader works at hero agency

wc: 3.8K

series masterlist: 2/5

Shouto was born to be a hero.

It is a sentiment shared by reporters and fans alike. Todoroki Shouto, the pride of Endeavor, the saving grace of his family name. True, his development had been entirely up to chance—no matter the intent or cruel desperation behind his father’s actions, he had to rely on the probability that the next offspring would win the genetic lottery—but low and behold, he did, and to many people that alone was a sign of destiny at work.

Ultimately, he chose to continue the path of being a hero himself, but no higher being put him there. His father did. At the time of his birth Shouto had not been a son, not even a baby. He was a project. A small, shapeless, squirmy thing. Malleable, like any young mind. It’s a miracle he retained any will and individuality.

Sometimes when alone with his thoughts, Shouto would hypothesise on the whys and the hows. The conclusion he always comes to is this: any sort of reality in which Shouto succumbs to his father’s ideals and manipulation would have to be a world in which his mother does not exist.

While his existence was planned, and wanted, he was to be a hero and as such, wasn’t cut from love—that came after. He loved his mother. So much so that when she hurt, he hurt. When she cried, he cried. She taught him what it meant to be gentle, to have hope, to aspire to be his own person. Years spent amongst the country's finest heroes and Shouto still regarded his mother as the bravest woman he knew, strong because she refused to be hardened by her circumstances; soft so that she can’t be broken again.

You are like his mother in that regard. Those same echoes of reassurance that softness isn’t weakness, and it isn’t earned. You’ve been touching him more as of late, as if determined to prove it. Static between brushed fingertips, words expressed by simply pressing your knees together, the weight of your hand on his bicep to garner his attention. The build up is subtle and cumulative and yet each instance strikes him with the magnitude of a thermodynamic explosion.

Nobody bats an eyelid to this shift in physicality, which makes it all the more difficult to determine whether he is reading into things or not. It could be that he’s noticing those small instances only because it’s you, and you are all he can think about lately.

You’ve given him permission to reciprocate. He merely has to ask for more if he wants it. What Shouto hadn’t accounted for is the unbearability of being vulnerable enough to ask. An innocent “can you hug me?” becomes so much more daunting to voice with all that longing crowded up behind it. He can’t help worrying you’ll see right through to the bottom of his desires.

A hand comes into view. Bakugo’s ash-smudged finger and thumb pinch and snap together in front of his face. “Come back to Earth, dumbass. Your thousand yard stare is scarin’ my new assistant”.

Shouto blinks out of his stupor and the blurred vignette surrounding his vision recedes. He glances at the skittish man sitting outside Bakugo’s office currently sending worried glances over his shoulder. “I think he’s more scared that you’re back,” Shouto intones dryly. “Isn’t he the fourth one this year?”

“Not my fault they’re all wimps,” Bakugo huffs. A slap reverberates around the office as he throws down a manila folder onto his desk and drops heavily into his chair. He regards Shouto with suspicion overtop his computer monitor. “Whatever you were just thinkin’ about—stop”.

“You don’t know what I’m thinking about”.

“I know you always manage to make Olympic level leaps in logic,” Bakugo rolls his eyes and tears open the folder. He slides out what Shouto assumes is a debrief and flips it between his fingers. Shouto keeps quiet. He reclines into the couch cushions and returns to reading the incident report on his lap, counting down from ten in the privacy of his mind. Anytime now.

Three, two, one.

“So what is it?” Bakugo asks, trying too hard to sound flippant but landing squarely on irritation. “Spit it out before you give yourself an aneurysm”.

Shouto opens his mouth and closes it again. A wave of hot embarrassment washes over him. He knows Bakugo will do him the kindness of being blunt and honest but it doesn’t make it any less humiliating to admit.

In their younger years Shouto saw something of a kindred spirit in Bakugo. He too did not like touch and aggressively voiced his distaste for it whenever he got the chance—which was often, because divine intervention sought fit to give him the most tactile, handsy friend group possible.

As they got older though, Shouto began to realise that the protests and threats were hollow. Despite being vehemently against affection, Bakugo would allow it anyway, and sometimes even seek it out. The aggression was bravado. Bakugo liked having his friends draped around his shoulders. He liked when Mina kissed his cheek, or Kaminari played with his hair, or Kirishima gathered him into a too-tight hug, or Sero tangled their ankles together on the couch.

Only, for him to comfortably accept it, Bakugo needed to act as though he were doing them a favour by allowing them into his space. And Bakugo’s friends played along without complaint.

From what he’s observed you are also an affectionate person. You are liberal with your warmth and adapt seamlessly to the boundaries of those around you. But you were also visibly uncomfortable whenever people took that affinity for intimacy as an open invitation, and recoiled if they encroached on your own.

Shouto has imagined reaching out only for your body to flinch away from him more times than he can count. It’s a battle staged in his head, ingrown fears. The possibility alone was enough to keep him from reciprocating, set in a state of fawn-like inertia.

“There’s somebody I want to get closer to. A friend,” he begins. Bakugo makes an inquisitive noise, props his cheek against his fist and narrows his eyes as he listens. Shouto retells the story in part, deciding to omit your name, and by the tail-end of it Bakugo’s forehead is deeply creased in dissatisfaction.

“You make all your own problems, Halfie. Y’know that?” he mutters, rubbing at the bridge of his nose and sinking back into his chair. “Fine, you don’t want to make this person uncomfortable, or whatever. If you need a hug so damn badly, why not ask Deku? Not like he’d say no”.

Knowing Bakugo would make his dilemma sound ridiculous is one thing, actually hearing it is another. “How do you know it isn’t about Midoriya,” Shouto returns petulantly.

“It ain’t Izuku or anyone else from your nerd squad,” Bakugo says, dropping his hand to drum on the desk. “I would’ve heard about it”.

“Why?”

“Because you don’t touch people. And that’s fuckin’ fine, yeah? But if you had, I know for a fact any one of them would’ve burst into tears and told everyone in a five mile radius”.

“Oh,” it leaves him a little off-kilter to hear. Shouto leans forward to rest his elbows on his knees, setting the report on the dark wood coffee table. The corner of the page is curled, and the spine is creased, and the ink annotation has smudged under his thumb. He details these things as he deliberates, the excuses cloying in his throat and thick like he might cry too.

Bakugo was right—if he craved close contact so badly, why couldn’t he go to Midoriya? He knows he would likely be met with enthusiasm.

“You don't have to tell me who. I don’t care. But you’re overthinking it,” Bakugo grunts at his lack of response, in a way that very much suggests that he cares. “Go ask. If they say ‘no’ it’s tough shit, but the world isn’t gonna end. From what you’ve told me they wouldn’t say ‘no’ anyway. Dumbass”.

Shouto nods and gives up the pretense of reading the paperwork. He feels coltish as he stands and brushes down his front, straightening the creases.

“You’re right”.

“I know”.

“Thank you, Bakugo,” he says. A small smile unfurls across his anxiety-bitten mouth. “You’re a good friend”.

“Shut up,” Bakugo grumbles. It’s a testament to his concern that he hadn’t cursed Shouto there and then. “Now get out of my office. What are you doing here in the first place? You got your own!”

“Yours gets all the sunlight. And it’s always quiet because nobody comes in here,” Shouto ignores the baleful slit of an eye Bakugo turns on him. “I’m going to take my lunch now”.

“Do what you want,” Bakugo dismisses haughtily, and Shouto smiles while thinking, not for the first time, that he’s very lucky to have friends like these.

The fidgety assistant bows as he exits and turns into the sun-drenched hallway. Warmth drapes around Shouto’s shoulders, lingering at his nape while he descends the dark stairwell where the light doesn’t reach. His boots thud against the linoleum, and he counts each footfall to keep his face neutral as his legs carry him toward your department.

Somewhere between one and one hundred and thirteen, a fraction of Shouto’s courage starts to dwindle. He grits his teeth. A hundred steps can’t be enough to dissuade him after decades of denying himself any kind of indulgence.

The further he goes into the support wing the more elaborate the layout becomes. You’re in research and development, assigned a workshop close to the quirk analysts. Heads turn as Shouto rolls through. Heroes didn’t often make personal visits to this area. If he thinks hard enough he could count a grand number of two past visits and neither of them were for you.

His stride falters when he catches sight of your nameplate. It is fixed to the wall outside your door, polished and gleaming proudly. Shouto traces the characters of your name engraved into steel before raising his hand to knock.

Your voice rings out from inside, “Come in!”

A pitched beeping sound comes from overhead. The workshop doors begin to open in a theatrical fashion, receding like curtains to reveal your space. The floor is mapped out with tape. Clear boundaries drawn between the work benches, the fume cupboards, the vault and your personal office, in an attempt at organised chaos. He might have been more interested in poking around for the first time if he had not felt on the edge of intrusion.

You’re tucked behind your curved desk surrounded by numerous monitors that dwarf your frame. Shouto furtively takes in your cute, rumpled appearance. The upper half of your coveralls have been undone to reveal an undervest, sleeves tied tight around and accentuating your waist.

“Take a seat, I’ll be with you in…” the dull tapping of practiced keystrokes comes to a stop as you notice him in the doorway. The professional veneer disappears. “Shouto?” you say, mostly to yourself. Your gaze slides beyond his shoulder, looking for whoever might be accompanying him. “Is everything okay?”

There’s a worried twist in your mouth that he wants to smudge away. A look in your eyes—a combination of warmth and weight that tugged at his being. Shouto rolls his shoulders, shaking off the tension, and moving deeper into your office. The doors close automatically behind him. “I’m okay,” he assures, taking the seat across from you.

Your expression gentles, and he likes how your gaze follows him. “I was wondering if you wanted to have lunch with me,” he continues. “But if you’re working I can head back”.

“Lunch?” you repeated. Your eyes darted to the corner of the monitor closest to you and promptly widened. “Oh, shit. When did that happen?”

An upswing of fondness catches him like a blow to the chest. His mouth quirks into a smirk. “How long have you been here?”

“Too long. I got lumped with a new project a few days ago and it’s almost done,” the monitors shut off one by one as you sheepishly press each button. Then you gave him a soft, apologetic look, “I’m sorry I’ve been so busy. Must’ve missed me if you came all the way down here”.

Dread shriked through him. The low whirring from the equipment scattered around your workspace is suddenly inordinately loud. Was he that obvious?

You, however, fail to notice Shouto’s anxiety and grab him around the wrist as you pivot the desk. “C’mon. Let’s go before the good stuff is gone,” you tell him.

Shouto had absolutely no clue what the ‘good stuff’ entailed—maybe he should’ve bothered to ask. Atleast it would take his mind off your hand. It’s wrapped around his sleeve, right where the fabric ends, loose enough for him to unshackle from if he wants. When he doesn’t protest the contact you stroke your thumb in an arc over the heel of his hand and squeeze.

Shouto falls into step, too caught up to realise you’ve taken him to the cafeteria. He expects you’ll drop his wrist in the presence of your colleagues, yet you adjust your grip and glance back at him with an encouraging tilt of your head.

“I’m starving. I think I’ll get a rice bowl. Smells pretty good today, don’t you think?”

Shouto hummed his agreement. He felt out of his depth, and he didn’t trust his voice. The spark of giddiness was doing embarrassing things to his throat. The line is mercifully short and before long he has a warm bowl of food held against his front.

“Did you want to sit in here? I can take us to one of the senior staff lounges instead if you want,” you cast a nervous look across the sparse crowd. “I mean, support engineers aren’t really gossiping types but…”

A petty part of him hoped the whispers would escalate. To have your name linked with his, to be known as a person that you cared about—he found that deeply satisfying, for reasons he couldn’t yet put his finger on.

Then again, being alone with you far eclipsed the appeal of flaunting your friendship. “The senior staff lounge sounds best,” he answers after a minute of feigned consideration. You nod, regretfully having dropped his hand, and motion for him to follow once more.

The lounge is a modest room with a kitchenette, a breakfast nook and a few bean bag chairs. It smells faintly like peeled oranges. There are post it notes and blueprints haphazardly stuck to the pinboard, covering an out of date calendar filled out in illegible scrawl. This is no shop awning. There is no rainfall to lend to the ambiance. But you are together in an enclosed space, and that is enough to make his heart beat in anticipation.

You scoot into the breakfast nook. He sits on the same side of the table and tries to subtly spread his knees enough to nudge your thigh. You side-glance in surprise but choose not to mention it. Instead you smile through your first mouthful and ask, “How've things been since I last saw you?”

Achy, like he’s used an atrophied muscle. Lonely, and frustrating beyond words. But he doesn’t say any of that. He digs crescents into his thigh through his pant leg and says, “Boring”.

“Figured that might be the case. I saw the livestream of you fighting Haywire,” you bump your shoulder against his. “The Commission probably dumped a whole load of paperwork on you, huh?”

Shouto wrinkles his nose. He hoped you hadn’t caught that fight. The pursuit of Haywire—an eco terrorist with an electrical quirk—managed to cause an unprecedented amount of damage to the city infrastructure.

“You handled it as best you could. The power grid can be fixed. What’s important is people are alive because of you,” a warm weight covers the fingers restlessly whittling at his pant leg. You pet his hand, “I’m glad you weren’t hurt”.

Guided solely by his impulses, the instant you start to draw back he envelops the top of your hand and sandwiches it between his own. He goes hot and cold all over in quick succession. Boundaries, he reminds himself. But you’re not pulling away. You’re studying him with a knowing gleam in your eye.

Shouto clears his throat. Heat pricks across his skin, concentrated in his cheekbones. “Sorry,” he says. You can ask, a memory echoes. “Is this okay?”

“You don’t have to apologise. I told you it’s fine,” you reply firmly. “I’m happy to remind you if you need to hear it”.

“No, I…” his brow furrows. “I’ve been thinking”.

“That’s not good”.

Shouto snorts and shakes his head, his amusement petering out into a shallow breath. “I want to ask. I’ve wanted to ask like you said I could,” he explains vaguely. “I’m not very good at it, I think”.

You make a soft, understanding sound that immediately sets him at ease. “I guess, after denying yourself something for so long it can be scary to let yourself have it again,” you murmur, a faraway look in your eyes. After a pensive moment the sheen fades and your laughter lines deepen, “I’ll do what I did before, then. If you look like you need a hug I’ll ask you instead”.

“In what way do I ‘look like’ I need a hug?”

“You get this—I don’t know how to explain it,” you gesture vaguely at him. “This blankness about you, but not your normal resting face, I mean you don’t seem all there. I don’t like it. I like it best when you’re happy”.

“Ah,” comes his eloquent response. Shouto drops his gaze to where your hands knot together. Every quark in his body is urging him to get closer, and remain close. “Bakugo thinks I should try to hug Midoriya, too,” he adds, oddly flustered.

“Huh. You talked to Bakugo about—? That’s a surprise. A nice surprise, I mean! Well, Midoriya does give great hugs. It would be good for you to…”

Shouto’s thoughts grow louder and he frowns down at his rice. You’re saying something about physical touch and wellness and friends. Dopamine and serotonin. It barely registers. Two truths are pinging around his skull.

You have hugged Midoriya. Of course you have. You’re friends.

You think he’s great at it.

Why is that so unsettling? Teenagers think like this. Single minded and overly emotional.

He feels the shifting of your knuckles under his palm. “Hey. You’ll need one of these back if you’re going to eat,” you say.

“Right,” he lifts his left hand and picks up his chopsticks to take a pinch of rice from his bowl. He chews until the clamouring in his mind has settled, and you patiently accept his stoic silence without explanation. Shouto hasn’t been this awkward since highschool, and even then he was too wrapped up in his familial problems to be aware of it.

“What’s the project you’ve been working on?” he eventually asks.

You take the change of topic in your stride, leaning closer and lowering your voice to an excited whisper, “I’m not supposed to tell you but—it’s for Deku’s new costume”.

“Midoriya is getting a new costume?” Shouto replies. You playfully shush him and he pouts a little.

“Don’t sulk. He doesn’t know yet either,” you poke a chopstick at the corner of his jutted mouth. “It’s my job to prepare a design portfolio and talk through everything next week. You’ll get a new one too, when you break the top five”.

“If,” he amends.

“You don’t think you’ll move up?”

“Reaching the top was never really a priority for me,” Shouto’s attention splinters, half of his focus on the conversation and the other on the sensation of your skin. He considers overturning his hand to entwine your fingers. “I just want to be the best hero I can be”.

You hum, and as if plucking the desire right from his mind, absentmindedly slip into the gaps between his fingers. Shouto steadies his breathing and takes another mouthful.

The rest of the hour passes, syrupy and slow like molasses. By the final minute Shouto’s palm is sticky and reluctant to part from yours. You usher him out from the breakfast nook first, stacking the empty bowls before directing him back toward the emptied cafeteria.

You slide the bowls along the counter for the kitchen staff to take. Then you wipe your hands down your front as you pivot to face him, thrusting out both arms as he stands frozen.

“Can I hug you?”

Shouto touches his face and you laugh.

“This is because I want one,” you clarify with a warm grin, beckoning him closer.

Shouto inhales steps into the embrace, his arms instinctively wrapping around your back. There are less layers this time—the heat of your body is overwhelming, alongside the gentle rise of goosebumps across your bare shoulders. Your breath fell gently on his collarbone, his head lowering to curl into you. He thinks, were he not born to be a hero, he must surely be born for this.

“Thank you,” you mumble, squeezing his waste a final time as you retreat. “I’ll talk to you later, yeah?”

Shouto nods. Your presence moves away like the sun being blocked out and he watches you go, departing words caught in his teeth, an incessant buzz in his fingertips. The walk back to his office is a gauzy yellow haze. Every physiological response in his body told him that he was in a free fall, despite his feet being firmly on the ground.

“Shouto!”

Shouto halts mid-step at the familiar voice. He turns to look at Izuku, at the tentative beginnings of his smile. “Izuku,” he says.

“We missed you at lunch—are you feeling alright?” Izuku asks, slightly bemused. “You look kinda… floaty,” his eyes are dark, softened in the afternoon light as they sweep over Shouto’s figure and his face.

"Izuku," Shouto said before he could convince himself otherwise, “Do you want a hug?”

The innocent question appeared to crash into Izuku with the levity of a bullet train in motion. Tears sprang to his eyes, brighter now. Shouto tenses as he is swept into a solid hug. Izuku smells like fresh air, sweat and sweet-salty broth. He holds Shouto as though trying to keep his seams from bursting; thick arms are secure around his shoulders, and a rough palm rubs broad strokes down his back, smoothing the tension until Shouto is relaxed.

You were right. Izuku does give great hugs. Shouto came away doughy, and fuller, and with the stark realisation that while touching Izuku soothed the ache, it still felt completely different to touching you.

Later, as he leaned his head against the desk surface, he sluggishly contemplated the implications of that.

[kombuuuu]

pavitir x reader cuddle hc🛐

Lovebug? No, Cuddlebug.

“Your hands are so warm.”

Pavitr x Gn!Reader

my baby pavitr is the most bright ray of sunshine

You: Pink

Pavitr: Orange

(i’ve used Hindi for endearments, as in Hindi Pavitr Prabhakar means “Pure Light Maker.”)

This man will squeeze you and not let go

he is an avid “hug until he cant breathe” advocate

will let you crush his bones if you wanted

he loves the feeling of another person around him

doesn’t matter if your lying on top of him, or he’s on you.

sometimes he grabs you and presses against your back, drapes his arms over your shoulders and kind of flops there.

his fav hug types are 1 and 4 (predominately four tho)

“You doing okay there, Pav?”

“Thithli, my body is worn. Please hold me.”

He will let you suffocate him if you so pleased

and absolutely adores when you try and crush him

squeeze as much as possible

literally try as hard as you can, he loves the lingering feeling of you on him

but if you get hurt if he squeezes too hard

he cries

he straight up sobs

he’s apologising profusely and not letting you tell him it’s okay

“Pav baby, it’s okay.”

“No! Don’t forgive me,” *sniffle* “,I hurt you!”

“I’m not even hurt, Do I look hurt?”

“..”

“C’mere.”

*sobs*

Now when it comes to cuddles??

this man is a god send

he’ll come back home to you after a day of spidering

lay you down and strip himself of his suit and gear

and will give you the best massage of your fucking life

and you know he’s good at it 2

you’ve seen how dexterous he is with his webs

he knows what he’s doin

his love language is touch and words of affirmation so you can imagine how that goes

“Doing so good for me, Shonu.”

“Just relax, your doing great.”

“Mm, relaxed, jus’ wan’ cuddle you.”

“We can cuddle after, need you comfy.”

He even goes shopping sometimes just to get you massage oils

the ones that smell nice

they remind him of you, okay? leave him alone

he loves u

“Baby, what are these?”

“They’re massage oils! I’m thinking maybe we should get a massage table too, we can make the whole set up.”

“Why are there so many?”

“I chose the ones that smelt most like you.”

“…You think I smell like vanilla cinnamon?”

“Yeah—“ *kiss*

“Oh! Awe, love you too.”

“Hmmph”

Now comes the cuddles,

once he’s finished he’ll put everything away and lay down next to you

your basically deadweight at this point

like you feel like jelly

will snuggle up against you

loves putting his head on your chest, or your stomach

he likes feeling like he’s worshipping you

when you’re almost asleep, he’ll lay down next to you

will wrap his arms around your waist and drag your body over his

will fix your limbs so your basically buried in him

put your arms around his neck, your head tucked under his chin

let you move around as much as you want

you’re uncomfy this way? okay, he’ll move his leg

your arms are dead, bring em down baby

“Pav.. My hand is dead.”

“Oh! Thithli, am I laying on it?”

“Mm.. Felt good at first. Now it’s dead.”

“Move it here, honey, c’mon.”

“Your hands are so warm!”

“You were warmin’ ‘em up.”

All with a smile on his face

he loves sleepy you

it’s knowing how much you trust him that brings him to his knees

how vulnerable you can be with him that has him swooning in his hopeless romanticism

sings to you sometimes

only when your asleep

when he’s still up, maybe thinking about spider things

or even just school

he gives you a little hum

you don’t even know how much you love it

or subconsciously love it

it’s such a nice feeling to lay on his rumbling chest

like your being lulled into a deeper sleep

eventually falls asleep with you, and will probably wake up half way off the bed with you clinging onto him

bonus!!

THREAD UR HANDS THROUGH HIS HAIR!!!!! MANS WILL MELT I KNOW IT

—

losing my mind hes so fucking cute hes so adorable he’s so baby

tags :>

@sodapopzds @squiiv @blublubluu

[barefoothighlander]

cards on the table - i

summary: soap and ghost place bets on who can sleep with you first

simon ‘ghost’ riley x fem!reader x john ‘soap’ mactavish

warnings: mdni (18+), mentions of alcohol, mentions of smut, objectification, sexting, ooc!ghost

a/n: I’m sorry this idea would NOT leave my brain, this is shameless fulfillment of my own sick mind, not proofread

masterlist

Your throat burns with the sting of liquor, a warmth beginning to spread across your skin as your hand is pulled by your friend Mia, dragging you towards the small dancefloor. The pub you had chosen to visit wasn’t renowned for being a place of large gatherings that required grand movements but you made it work, swinging around the floor to some old classic rock song you had heard before but couldn’t remember the lyrics to, laughing to yourself when you’d trip slightly over your own feet. You were visiting Mia in England, she lived there while you remained back home in North America, you hold her at arm's length, smiling before pulling her in for a hug that almost sends the both of you tumbling to the ground, your back colliding with a man behind you causing him to spill his drink a little.

You turn to him, “I’m so sorry, it was an accident please, let me buy you another” you plead to which he simply responds with a sod of through gritted teeth, whispering a quiet alright then to yourself before turning back to Mia, the two of you consumed in a fit of laughter, you rest your hands on her shoulders,

“God I’ve missed you”

She smiles, pulling you tight to her frame. “I’m gonna get another drink,” she says as you nod, watching her leave you alone on the dancefloor. You glance around the pub, not failing to notice two pairs of eyes practically burning a hole into you, you turn away quickly, moving to leave the floor but your path is blocked by a group of men standing shoulder to shoulder, you try to pardon yourself but the music is too loud, it’s no use, defeated you turn back around and walk the other way, trying to ignore the way the men's gaze follows you, you seat yourself at a booth near the back of the pub.

“Steamin’ Jesus LT, look at that lass” Soap nudges his head towards you, hips swaying on the dancefloor.

“She’s nothing special” Ghost states,

Johnny sighs, “Not that one” He grabs Ghost's shoulder, directing his focus toward you and pointing, “That one”

Ghost’s mind freezes, his eyes glued to you, you’re practically glowing under the lights, carelessly dancing to the music like it was just you in the room.

“Think I could get a shag outta her?” Soap asks, smirking to himself

Ghost turns to him, “Not on your life Sargeant”

“Ah, you want that one all to yourself? How about a bet?”

Ghost mulls it over for a minute, eyes falling back to you as your smile beams from your laughter, fuck it. “What’d you have in mind, Johnny”

Soaps grins, “Even playing field, first to get her in bed wins”

“You’re on”

You’re twiddling your thumbs, waiting for Mia to return before your eyes flick up, landing on his form as he slides into the other side of the booth.

“Hi, couldna help but notice your friend leaving you all alone”

You scrunch your brows, “No she's-” You lean your head beside the booth as you watch Mia's form grow further away, arms linked with a man “-right, there” you laugh a little.

“You’re quite the dancer” Soap says

Your cheeks flush with heat, your hands moving to cover your face, “You saw that, so embarrassing” you say shaking your head.

“Nah, it was sexy”

You pull your hands down slightly, eyes locking onto his,

“I’m Johnny,” he says extending a hand toward you, you take it with your own, introducing yourself. “So how’d a pretty girl like you end up here”

You stifle a laugh, “You use that line on all the girls?”

“Only the good-looking ones,” He says winking, forcing a huff of laughter from you. “I’m serious, we dinnae get many girls like you around here”

“I can tell,” you say, glancing over to see Ghost sitting alone at his table, a glass of whiskey in hand as he watches you like a hawk, it sends shivers down your spine.  You turn back and Johnny is ordering drinks for the two of you, “You like scotch?”

“I do, it doesn’t like me though,” you say and he smiles. The two of you sit having small talk for a few minutes before you feel your drinks catch up to you.

“I’m just gonna step outside for some air, s’to stuffy in here” You smile at Soap and make your way out, desperate for a breath. The cold air hits you, cooling the heat of your skin, you turn to move against the outer wall before colliding into a firm obstacle, eyes on the ground you see feet,

“I’m so sorry, I wasn’t watching where I was-” Your head tilts up, high as you focus on his skull-clad face, “-going”. He stares down at you, a puff of smoke leaving his mouth before he pulls his mask back down, your body is frozen and he extends a hand down to help you up, cheeks flushing a bright pink as you realize the position you were just in, knees on the pavement in front of his looming figure, you accept his hand pulling you upright with minimal effort as you brush the dirt from your clothes.

“Your friend is in the bar”

“We aren’t friends” he states, watching your expression grow flat, “We just work together”.

You mouth a silent oh, turning to face the empty streets, “M’sorry if he was bothering you, he gets that way”

“Oh no, not bothering, he’s pretty funny actually”

Simon huffs, he’s not.

“You aren’t from here” 

“Everyone seems to notice that, do I have ‘not English’ plastered on my back”

He laughs, “No s’just, you don’t look like you belong here”

You tilt your head in question.

“You’re very pretty is what I’m trying to say”

You giggle a little, feeling that familiar heat flush your cheeks, “You know if you’re trying to pick up girls, you might want to lose the mask”

“Yea maybe,” he says, pulling out another cigarette, lifting his mask to his nose before lighting it, you’re focused on his lips, plush and pink, his jawline firm.

“See something you like love?”

A nervous smile creeps up on your face, turning away to hide the tint of your cheeks as Simon smiles to himself, enjoying how easily flustered you get.

“You should probably head back into Johnny, I’m sure he’s missing you”

“I’m fine right here,” you say, eyes closing as you inhale the scent of the fresh air.

Simon nods, the two of you maintaining a comfortable silence before it’s interrupted by the swinging of the door.

“There you two are, leavin' me to drink alone,” he says

“Sorry, was just talking to.. uh-”

“Simon,” he says

“-Simon” you smile at him

“Well let’s go, plenty of chats to have inside” Soap urges you inside

“Actually I’m gonna head home, it’s getting late,” you say

“Well at least give me your number,” Soap says, extending his phone toward you, you grab it punching in your number before glancing up, noticing Simon's narrowed eyes. You hand the phone back, making your goodbyes as you walk away, the two men keeping a close watch on your figure as you leave.

“I think you should pay up now LT” Soap jokes, shaking his phone in Ghost's direction, Simon simply pushes off the wall, walking down the street,

“Was it something I said?” Soap shouts, eyes running over the numbers on his screen, I win this time Ghost.

Within a minute of entering Mia’s flat where you were staying your phone lit up, a new number illuminating your screen,

lovely meeting you, what are your plans for the week? x

You bite your lip, no doubt it was Johnny but you weren’t sure how you felt about meeting up with some stranger you’d gotten drunk with. You wait a few minutes before answering, deciding to mess with him a little to see what he wanted,

Sorry? Who’s this?

Immediately three dots pop up,

You’re cute lass I’ll give you that, how about coffee tomorrow morning? x

You mull it over, coffee seemed innocent enough,

See you then.

You decided against giving i’m your address incase it turned out that he was some psychotic killer.

The rest of your night consisted of a warm shower to try and sober up while you scrounged up whatever leftovers Mia had in the fridge, she hadn’t come back yet which meant she would definitely call you at 7am to pick her up from some guy's house.

The clock neared 1am, you weren’t tired yet considering most of your nights spent drinking ended closer to 4 in the morning, you settled into the couch with your plate of leftovers and flicked through tv channels, landing on reruns of some old English show.

You were halfway through your food when you heard a knock at the door, immediately assuming something like your friend had gotten arrested, to your surprise it wasn’t a policeman there when you opened it, it was Simon.

“How did you know where I lived?” You asked glancing around him in case he came with others.

“Friend of a friends”

“We’ll that’s creepy”

“Sorry, didn’t really think this through” He laughs, you fight the smile that creeps on your lips but you can’t help it, the way his eyes crease when he smiles, his hand nervously scratching at the back of his head.

“Did you wanna come in?”

“Yeah, thanks”

He makes his way in glancing over the decor of the flat,

“It’s my friends place, I’m just staying here while I visit”

“You don’t live here?”

“No, always wanted to but home is where the yankees are”

He huffs a laugh at your joke, “How long are you staying”

“Just a month”

“That’s it? barely any time at all”

“Yea well, not a lot keeping me here I guess”

“Is there a lot keeping you back home?”

His question takes you by surprise, you’d never thought about it, “Hm I guess not”

He moves around the room, sitting on the couch as you move to sit beside him.

“Love this show” He says

“Never seen it”

He looks at you surprised, “Right well now we have to watch it from the start”

You giggle thinking he’s joking but he grabs the remote and starts the series from the pilot.

The two of you settle in, the comfortable silence between you broken a few times when one of you laughs, you can feel his eyes on you as you watch, his stare making you nervous. He gets comfy, leaning back against the cushions and sliding an arm behind your head, you’re apprehensive but decide to lean your temple against his shoulder as the tv plays.

A few times he’d have to explain a joke to you as you weren’t up on English slang and a lot of their words made no sense to you, he liked it, talking to you about his home, maybe subconsciously influencing you to stay a bit longer than a month. It was strange, a handful of times he and Soap would have bets like this but rarely did Ghost ever care, usually letting Soap win even though it meant hearing about it for weeks, but this felt different, Ghost was drawn to you, something about you intrigued him beyond sexual gratification, the truth was he’d probably kill Soap if he laid a hand on you, be he couldn’t let him know that.

The hours you spent cuddled into Simon left your eyes tired, struggling to stay open, he must have noticed your fatigued state as he pulled himself from the couch and leaned down to pick you up,

"Hey, woah"

"S'alright, just moving you from the couch"

A small oh escapes your lips as you direct him to your room, he lays you down softly on the mattress,

"I should probably go then"

He watched as you nod at him, leaning down to place a kiss on your cheek, this action takes you aback, just a tender touch from such a large, scary man, a complete juxtaposition. You can't fight the sleep that takes over your body, he waits for a moment making sure you're comfortable before taking your phone and adding his number then making his way out.

You're dragged from your sleep in the early morning by the buzzing of your phone, screen flashing Johnny's name, you rub your eyes and reach for it.

"Good morning lass"

"Morning Johnny" You mumble

"Rough night?"

You think for a minute, the opposite really.

"There's a small shop a few blocks from the bar we were at, meet you there in half an hour?"

You silently curse yourself for agreeing to join him, not because you didn't like him, but more on the side of wanting to sleep in.

"Sure, see you soon," You say hanging up the phone

You get out of bed and do your best to make yourself look presentable, your late-night taking a toll on your skin, quickly splashing some cold water on it before running a comb through your hair. The weather was warm enough to wear a dress, the breeze outside kissing your bare legs as you stepped out.

You walked the few blocks to the cafe and your eyes set on him, standing out front.

“Bonnie” He greets

“How are you?”

“Better now” He jokes, handing you a small coffee, “Didn’t know what you liked, thought this was safe”

You thank him with a smile, taking a sip of the drink before the two of you make your way down the street. He points around at a few things, giving you the history of old buildings, recalling a few stories from his time spent in the city.

As you walk the uneven ground takes its toll, your foot slipping on a rock as you trip forward, his arms reach to grab at your waist, steadying you.

“Careful now”

You huff a breath, standing back up, he keeps his hand settled at the base of your spine as you walk in tandem. You find a small park and sit down on one of the benches, admiring the scenery. You realize quickly that Johnny loves to talk, you like it, enjoying the simple conversation as you feel a small buzz from your purse, excusing yourself you open the bag and grab your phone, the screen lit up with Simon's name and a picture linked.

“Anything important?”

“No just” You cut yourself off as you open the picture, it’s him in the mirror, he’d just gotten out of the shower, his hair wet and body glistening with droplets, the only thing covering his modesty a thin white towel that leaves little to the imagination, your heartbeat races and your cheeks blush.

“You alright?” His question brings you back, turning your phone off and shoving it back into your bag,

“Yea just my friend Mia, she needs me to pick her up”

“Oh, alright, I’ll walk you back”

You smile at him as the two of you make your way back to the flat, somewhere along the way he grazed his fingers over yours, sneaking his palm over yours and holding it there, the gentle touch prompting butterflies to swarm in your stomach.

You reach the flat and he walks you over to your car, hand still in yours.

“I’d like to see you again while you’re here,” He says, confidence suddenly disappearing

“I’d like that too” You stare at him for a second, acting on impulse you lean in and kiss his cheek and he huffs a nervous laugh at the action. He runs his thumb over your hand,

“I’ll call you?”

You nod in response, your bottom lip tucked under your teeth slightly as you bid him goodbye. You watch him walk away, your smile dropping from your face as you reach into your bag grabbing your phone, opening it and clicking on Simons contact, it rings a few times before he answers,

“Hello?”

“What the hell was that?”

“You didn’t like it?” He’s cocky, even his voice gives that away, you feel butterflies swarm in your stomach as heat rises to your cheeks.

“What if I was in public”

“Were you?”

“Ah- yes matter of fact I was, with Johnny”

“Hmm”

“I don’t know what to say to you but just know I’m mad at you”

“You sound cute when you’re mad”

“Simon” You warn

“What are you up to tonight”

“I’m busy”

“Too busy to hangout with me?”

“Yes”

“You’re a bad liar love, I’ll pick you up at 8”

He hangs up the phone before you can oppose, huffing a breath to yourself you walk into the flat.

“Hey lady” Mia’s voice rings through the room,

“Hey I thought I was gonna come pick you up”

“Didn’t need to, Eric drove me back”

“Oh Eric, is he nice”

“No, but he’s so hot”

You giggle at her expression, never the one to choose a so-called good guy.

“So what about you, I saw you sitting with that guy last night”

“Johnny”

“Johnny, and? Is he good in bed”

“I wouldn’t know”

“Seriously? He looked totally into you?”

“We went for coffee this morning, I like him, I mean he’s sweet, definitely a flirt but sweet but..”

“But what” Mia leans in, intrigued by your words

“His friend Simon, he put me to bed last night”

“You slept with his friend!”

“No oh my god, no, he just showed up here after the bar, we ate and then he literally carried me to bed and just left”

“So like, he tucked you in?”

“I guess”

“Huh, never had that happen before”

“It’s weird right?”

“Not sure, but it does look like you’ve got two friends who both want a piece of you”

You hadn’t even thought about that part, two guys, both friends, who both want to take you out on dates.

“Lucky me” You sigh

“C’mon, let’s eat”

Mia makes dinner while you clean up, watching television for a few hours and gossiping about her new friend, you move to your room to change for your date with Simon.

“You leaving?”

“Yea Simon’s picking me up in a few”

“I’m sorry, you’re going on a date with both on the same day”

“He didn’t exactly give me time to say no”

Her mouth falls open as she laughs, “Oh you’re in trouble, babe”

You laugh at her joke, hearing a quick knock on the door and widening your eyes to Mia who does the same. She moves around the room, racing in front of you to open it, her eyes landing on Simon's large form.

“How can I help you?”

“Hi, I’m here for”

“I know who you’re here for, what do you want with her?” Mia grows stern, Simon stutters a little.

“Alright, leave him be”

You nudge her aside, stepping out of the house and walking down the front stairs.

“I want her home before 10! And don’t do anything I wouldn’t do!” Mia yells before closing the door.

“Is she always like that?” Simon asks, opening the passenger side door for you,

You step into the truck, “Always”

You drive down a few roads, listening to the radio as Simon pulls up into a small parking spot and turns the engine off. You look out the front window, there’s a small beach in your eye line, the waves lapping on the shore as the sun lowers over the horizon.

“I didn’t bring a swimsuit”

“Neither did I” He replies, getting out of the car before circling to open your door, you quirk your brow at him and he just grabs your hand, urging you along. The two of you walk down the beach, your shoes in your hand as the water tickles your feet.

“So you were born here?”

“In Manchester yeah, moved around a bit with the army but home's always been here”

“That sounds nice”

“What?”

“Home, I guess I never really felt that”

“You don’t like living in America?”

“It’s okay, I just feel like I’ve experienced everything I need to there”

He nods in agreement, “Well I’m sure England would love to see you stay, for completely unselfish reasons of course”

“Oh of course” You giggle, “Can I ask a question?”

“Why do I wear the mask”

“Yeah”

“There’s a few reasons, mostly I’ve just grown attached to it over the years, plus it hides my strikingly handsome face from prying eyes”

You giggle, “So you don’t usually take it off?”

“Only if I really want to”

You give a small hum in response, “Did you want to swim?”

“Thought you said you didn’t bring a suit?”

“I didn’t” You tease, moving quicker in front of him as you drop your shoes, your arms moving to pull your dress above your body, leaving you in only your bra and panties. You glance back at Simon who’s awestruck, his hand dramatically clinging to his chest before he follows you, his own clothes thrown in a trail as he makes his way into the water. You look back at him wading towards you, smiling to yourself as you can see his face, he had removed his mask something about the action making your heart wrench before he pounced on you, strong arms wrapping around your waist as you’re taken in a fit of laughter.

“It’s beautiful,” You say, staring out at the vast body,

“Sure is,” He says, his chin resting against the top of your head

“So what happens when Johnny finds out you took me on a date”

“Ha, more like what happens when he finds out you got me naked in the ocean”

You release a small gasp, splashing him with water

“S’alright, I doubt he’ll be mad,” He says.

You push at him jokingly but he grips your wrists, his body lowering down before his arm collides with your stomach, lifting you from the water and throwing you over his shoulder. You’re screaming and giggling, legs flailing as your hands softly press against the skin of his back.

“Put me down!”

He just laughs in response, your efforts pointless as he walks your bodies to the shore before placing you down, your arms lock around his neck pulling him to the ground beside you. Your legs move to straddle his hips.

“I win”

“This time,” He says, his hands moving to rest on your bare thighs, you huff a laugh and quickly realize the position you're in, your cheeks heating up before you scurry off him, reaching an arm down to help him up. You’re breathless as you help lift him, his arm snaking around your waist as the two of you collect your clothes from the sand, dusting them off before making your way to the truck.

The air inside the car was warm, a mixture of the heat from your skin and your elated state, Simon rolls the windows down to cool off, the air breezing through his hair as his palm is on your thigh again. You stare quietly out the window as he pulls into your street, turning the engine off and moving around the car to open your door,

“Why thank you” You smile

He nods, taking your hand in his as he walks you to the door, you’re face to face, eyes staring up at him as his free hand clenches his balaclava, you stand on your toes, pulling him in for a kiss, he moves to cup your jaw keeping you close to him.

You pull back, “Goodnight Simon”

He tucks a damp strand behind your ear, “Goodnight love”

[zwhoreo]

thoughts on headcanons on how luffy would be with a shy gf / trying to bring the girl he likes out of her shell / not be nervous around him???? i like to envision him being the initiator sometimes simply bc i myself am so ridiculously reserved… the idea of him and his partner balancing each other out / teaching each other to be more outgoing and free spirited vs less rambunctious and reckless…. it makes me v happy ALSO i hope its ok to send another ask so soon, i love ur work !!! @ v @ ;;; no rush or pressure to answer !! :’’>

hana!!! tysm for all the support, i rly appreciate it, I’m so glad you like my writing :’) you can send as many asks as you want!! i’m pretty busy with work/school prep rn so requests are taking me some time, but yess please never hesitate to submit one if you have an idea <333

coming out of your shell - luffy x f!reader headcanons

fluff

summary in request, how your dynamic might work with luffy if you’re a bit more reserved, how he helps you come out of your shell, and the kind of balance you two give each other in your relationship

words: ~750

________________________

You love Luffy an indescribable amount, and somehow he loves you back tenfold.

This boy loves you so much that he rarely wants to be without you, sticking to you always, pulling you along with him everywhere, talking loudly in your face because he’s excited by the closeness

you’re intimidated by that love so much, you were a bit shy and didn’t know what to say

But god, there’s something about him that just changes you, makes you feel fuzzy on the inside. He calms you. You become comfortable around him so fast, eager to be in his arms

But sometimes it’s too much, his loudness. You’re trying to relax, have a break from the outside world, but here’s Luffy wriggling on top of you, so full of an energy you can’t believe, it’s all too endless.

“Hi, Lu…” you murmur softly in his mouth as he kisses you for the hundredth time.

At first it was hard, he’s so unlike you, he’s unlike anyone, really, that you’d ever met

You hadn’t imagined yourself ending up with this kind of intense extrovert

But Luffy knows you like quiet sometimes, and when you’re feeling tired and want some time to yourself, but if he really wants to hang out, you can say, “hey Lu, wanna take a nap?”

He’ll be so excited to come cuddle on top of you while you read or look out the window, going to sleep quickly, letting you soak in the comforting warmth of his body in stillness

Luffy is attached to you. If he goes somewhere, more often than not you’re along for the ride.

He squeezes your hand, his own so sweaty with excitement, running and dragging you along with him, wanting so badly for you to be as excited as he is.

He talks to people on the street, bouncing on his feet, voice loud and overflowing. You cringe at his boldness, many times, you can’t imagine acting like that.

But he’ll motion you over, and gush about how his new friend HAS to meet his beautiful and perfect and fun girlfriend, he’ll hug you and he’ll want you to talk to his friend and when your voice is small he pats your back and pulls you a little closer, he wants you to make lots of friends, just like he does, because it makes him happy and he wants you to be happy, too

And when you start to conversate, when your smile comes, he grins so proudly and afterwards he’ll reward you with a big, sloppy kiss

Because even though the concept of shyness greatly confuses him, he knows these types of things are big for you

When he wants you to speak, he’ll look at you, turning his head over his shoulder and making a small, giddy sound.

He’ll squeeze your hand which of course he’s still holding, he wants to remind you that you’re safe

But you can balance him out, too. If he comes up to someone who you know doesn’t want to talk, if he’s bothering them and it’s clear on their face but Luffy doesn’t know, then you’ll gently pull him away into a hug and whisper, “hey, looks like they don’t want to talk right now…”

He’ll be a little disappointed but you’ve helped him understand stuff like this

Luffy LOVES adventures

He wants to take you on all of them, even when you’re scared or anxious

There’s that hand holding again, or maybe he’ll link his arm tightly with yours, knowing that the closeness of his body will make you feel safer, bolder

It does help, he’s infectious, invigorating. He’s inspiring in the way he charges ahead, and you want to feel so free like he seems to, always

So you try to be like him, going out of your comfort zone, finding joy in the things you fear

When you’re scared, he’ll hold you. He’ll lift you onto his back or press you close against his chest

And when it’s too dangerous, when your anxiety is right, you can hold his arm, tell him to please just stay with you, and he’s learned (probably the hard way) that sometimes you can be right about these things, you can see what he won’t

It’s a perfect balance, you and Luffy. An unlikely pair, two polar opposites, and yet you share so much, you fit so well. He loves you for that, and he’s going to help you, always

[johnsgunbelt]

141 x fem short and stocky reader who actually kinda hurts them in playfights on accident

Ow! - 141

Pairing: 141 x Short & Stocky!Fem Reader 18+

Warnings: Hurt/Comfort,Slight suggestiveness?

John Price:

Now when he started dating you, he knew you were strong. You went to the gym, took many different wrestling classes and just a whole bunch of other stuff.

But he was never too worried, you were short and he was tall plus he was in the military so he never cared when you play-fought him because he knew you had no intention to actually hurt him.

Usually he’d just pick you up and toss you onto any soft surface near him,a couch,a bed,etc. 

But this time was different…

You accidentally hit him a little too hard, and you definitely left a mark.

“Ow!” He dropped you on the couch after you hit his spine way too hard, “Oh my god babe! I’m so sorry oh my god-”

He winced a little but then reassured you it was okay, he then forced you to baby him as he whined and moaned about his bruise all so you’d run your fingers through his hair and kiss him “better”

John 'Soap' Mactavish:

He had 0 clue just how strong you actually were.

Don’t get him wrong though! He came to the gym with you and watched you workout and he knew you were hella strong but he wasn’t quite sure how strong you actually were.

You and him play fought a bit but never too much, but when you got a good hit on him? Jesus.

“Aye!” He backed up a little as you hit his stomach a little too hard, but the thing was he wasn’t exactly upset or anything…

“Oh god baby! I’m so sorry! Here let me see-” “That was hot.” He looked at you half lidded and smiling as you lifted his shirt to see the bruise, you scoffed and rolled your eyes.

You got him some ice and he was perfectly fine, just admiring you.

Kyle 'Gaz' Garrick:

He knew how strong you were no doubt, he knew what he was getting into as he play fought with you.

He watched you at the gym, he even let you box him sometimes (He would never ever hit back.)

So when you unintentionally hurt him it wasn’t a shocker, it’s happened before a couple of times so he wasn’t too worried.

“..Ouch?” He kind of said nonchalantly as you hit him in his side a little harder than usual. You freaked out a little and got him some ice.

“Babe I’m fine really-” “No no I insist!” He eventually took the ice and placed a small kiss on your forehead and pulled you into a bear hug.

Simon 'Ghost' Riley:

Knows how strong you are, but he fucks with you alot because he doesn’t think you can actually hurt him.

He goes to the gym with you and is even your sparring partner, but you never necessarily hurt him or do any damage.

But when you did, he was shocked…Maybe even terrified.

“Shit!” He kinda whined as you hit him in the ribcage a little, no no way too hard. 

“Oh fuck! I'm so sorry, Si!” He looked at you and his eyes softened but he was also impressed, he’s a large man and your a tiny girl…But he never fucked with you after that day that ribcage injury was no joke.

You babied him for 4 hours after it, he fake sobbed too.

IM SO SORRY FOR BEING MISSING LMAOOO I'm back on my bs, send anons/requests <3.