#they keep running around in circles cause they won’t TALK

[pinkieclown]

Cats The Musical Autism Headcanons

because these kitties are autistic okay!! honestly i think all the characters can be autistic these are just the ones i have specific ideaz for :3

mungojerrie & rumpleteazer (cause the twins definitely share some traits lol)

- the talking talkers… they’re both hyper-verbal :) while their chattiness can sometimes help with their schemes (they like to engage a friendly policeman in conversation!) but usually they just talk cat’s ears off cause they like talking

- always up in each other’s space, these two have very little sense of personal space and are always grabbing each other’s shoulders/arms or leaning on each other, snuggling, or generally being close to each other

- both love jumping up and down or running around to stim! sometimes they link arms and run in a circle for minutes at a time just to get their energy out

- they’re pretty spontaneous when it comes to their heists, usually jumping into it before fully working out a plan, but both can get very upset when something goes wrong/doesn’t go their way

mungojerrie

- TERRIBLE with eye contact, he’s always looking at everything except the person he’s talking to. definitely adds to his kinda ‘shifty’ reputation

- loves oral stimming, usually chewelry or something of the sort, but will absentmindedly chew on p much anything in his reach (pens, plastic, teazer’s arm, etc)

- has poor volume control, tends to talk just a bit too loud or too quiet depending on the situation

- tends to accidentally interrupt/talk over others cause he doesn’t really understand their cues

rumpleteazer

- very touchy-feely… but only on her terms! she loves initiating snuggles hugs or play-fights, but if someone touches her when she’s not expecting/in the mood, she won’t hesitate to take a swipe at em (jerrie is usually the only exception)

- tippy-toe walks alllll the time. helpful for moving quietly when she needs to but will do it for no reason at all

- loves to give cats nicknames, but doesn’t understand how they work so just decides on random nouns to call her friends

- has a hard time understanding metaphors and sarcasm

etcetera

- THE STIMMER!! she loves to stim! usually flapping her paws, tapping her toes, or bouncing in place, but pretty much any repetitive movement is a stim for her <3

- related to her stimming, she cannot sit still! she’s always moving around, playing with toys, or shifting from side to side even when she’s supposed to stay still

- loves to knit or crochet with jenny, since its repetitive and keeps her hands busy, plus she gets a cute scarf at the end!

- has echolalia, she often repeats words/sounds other cats say, usually just to feel it in her mouth

mistoffelees

- non/semi-verbal, only speaks when he’s very comfortable or around certain cats (like victoria or tugger)

- loves to perform but is naturally quite shy and quiet, so tends to lean on his ‘stage persona’ to express his more dramatic and expressive side! when he isn’t in that mindset though he’s very aloof

- very diligent about keeping himself clean and tidy. he can feel when even one tuft of fur is out of place and it BOTHERS him

- has hypersomnia, he’s always sleepy and gets worn out pretty quick (especially after his bigger magical feats)

- has very specific day to day routines (wakes up at a specific time, visits the junkyard on specific days of the week, etc) gets really frustrated and stressed if they’re interrupted or changed

- he’s a house-cat, but refuses to wear a collar (he hates how it feels)

sillabub

- didn’t speak for a long time growing up, but at like age 4 (in cat years) suddenly started speaking in full sentences. demeter was very surprised

- has a (terrifying) habit of slipping into this wide-eyed hundred yard stare when she zones out. it took a while for everyone to get used to that

- very sensitive to lights and colors, she’s the first to notice when the light shifts ever so slightly, and too-bright lights or colors are very overstimulating for her

- doesn’t like being touched except by her moms and sister (demeter & bomba and electra, respectively) and even then only in certain moments

- special interest is the night sky, she knows all the names of the constellations and can tell you the phase of the moon on any given night

- makes A LOT of eye contact

[luveline]

i think it would be adorable seeing a conversation of spencer freaking out about pregnant!bombshell and hotch just calmly telling him all about different ways to help and them talking about new dad fears :((

pregnant!reader, 1k (sorry it was more about the pregnant part than the new dad fears!)

Hotch doesn’t know what Spencer’s going to say when he knocks, but he ushers him inside his office regardless. He has the appearance of someone with grief to share; Hotch immediately starts to think of the people he and Spencer have in common. 

“I need your advice,” Spencer says desperately. 

Hotch puts his pen in its holder. “Of course.” 

“She won’t sit down.” 

Hotch lets himself relax. “Ah.” 

“She’s acting like she isn’t pregnant at all. I want her to be happy, but she keeps running up the stairs. What if she falls?” 

“Y/N has very likely thought of that possibility already.” 

“Then why doesn’t she stop?” 

Hotch chews his cheek for a moment. “Spencer, sit down.” 

The chair squeaks as Spencer sits, scrubbing at his face roughly. 

Hotch has watched Spencer grow up, in a way, moving from twenty three to thirty quick as blinking, and he’s watched him fall in love with you, and now he gets to watch Spencer have daily conniptions over your apparent lack of self-preservation. He’s enjoyed it, genuinely, and he doesn’t mind offering some wisdom now as a partner who’s made enough mistakes to know better. 

“Spencer, you can’t make her sit down if she doesn’t want to. And she’s four months pregnant. Pretty soon, she’ll have no choice but to sit down. It’s best if you let her stay active as long as she can, so she stays as healthy as she can.” He leans back in his chair. The smirk is unbidden, but he can’t help it. “But you know this.” 

“Her ligaments are weakening, because of the baby. The pregnancy. It’s about to get much more painful for her,” Spencer says. 

“So?” Hotch prods gently. 

Spencer nods. Glances out the window down into the bullpen, before dragging his chair closer to the desk. “Hotch, it’s like she’s two different people. Or three. There’s the crying one, and the happy one, and the…” 

“The hates you one?” he offers. 

“Yes. Which is luckily quite rare, but terrifying.” 

“Just hormones, Spence.” 

Spencer breathes out. Hotch can’t help the immeasurable wave of fondness he’s feeling for his colleague. He genuinely wants to round the desk and pat Spencer on the back. This is all a learning curve, a way of life. Partners have been wrestling with their scary pregnant wives for long before he and Spencer came around. 

“The happy one is worth it, though,” Hotch guesses. He had some lovely days with Hayley. 

“You know what she’s like,” Spencer says.

Hotch can imagine. Before your pregnancy, you adored Spencer. You’ve doted on him since you met him, and if the glimpses Hotch has seen of you these last few months are any indication, you are immovably in love. Yesterday, you brushed the sesame seeds off of Spencer’s sandwich one by one because he doesn’t like them. The day before, you’d pushed your chair next to his and drawn circles into his arm the entire workday (while, impressively, still managing to finish your assigned consults). 

“There’s a common theme, I think, when she’s angry. She’s usually uncomfortable. I’ve started to go through a checklist,” Spencer says. He sounds guilty. 

“I think it’s a good idea. I noticed you’ve been keeping candy in your bag.” Hotch laughs. Spencer joins in. 

“Just the essentials.” 

Hotch doesn’t doubt that you’re on every prenatal vitamin you could ever need, that Spencer has researched pregnancy from the latest journals to the very rarest myths. He has no doubt that you’re well taken care of. You’re going to be fine. Spencer has no need to worry about you. Hotch might have cause to worry about Spencer, though. 

“Reid, I’ll tell you a secret. It might not work for you, but it worked for me.” 

Spencer holds his hands together. “What is it?” 

“The next time you want her to slow down,” —Hotch lays it out carefully, without judgement for you or any private teasing, just genuine care for the both of you— “you can distract her with the baby.” 

“I’ve tried that,” Spencer says. “She tells me I’m worrying.” 

“Not about the baby’s health. If she thinks everything is alright, it likely is. I mean about the future.” Spencer doesn’t seem to understand. Hotch searches for an example. “Baby shoes, clothes. I once calmed Hayley down from an hours-long meltdown by telling her I thought Jack would have her eyes.” 

“That works?” 

“It’s probably much nicer for her to have you encouraging positive thoughts than negative,” he says gently. 

“I guess I worry too much.” 

“Not too much, Reid. I’m just telling you what worked for me. When it’s over, you’ll miss it. A few years later.” 

They smile. Hotch watches with a distinct fatherly pride as Spencer retreats down into the bullpen where you stand talking animatedly to Anderson. You’ve been on your feet all day, in kitten heels no less, and you look tired but not unhappy. 

Spencer joins you for a while. You show no signs of moving. Hotch figures he’ll give Spencer time to act on his advice and goes back to his paperwork, losing track of time, ignoring the beep of his watch that signals lunch time. 

He finishes his paperwork a little while after. 

“I wonder what she'll have,” he hears Spencer saying. 

“She’ll have my hands,” you insist suddenly, your voice floating up the steps. You’ve always had one of those tones that attracts attention, even when you aren’t shouting. “Don’t girls often get their mom’s hands? And their dad’s noses?” 

He’s expecting Spencer to cite an article on genetic lottery, but he doesn’t. He sounds the polar opposite of how he’d panicked in Hotch’s office. “I think so. I got my mom’s hands, too. She had short nail beds.” A pause. Hotch glances out the window to find you sitting in Spencer’s chair, a sandwich laid out in two halves on a napkin, a tray of vegetable batons in your hands where they rest on your bump. “I hope she has your everything.” 

You lift your chin. Spencer taps your noses together. 

“Can I get you a drink?” he asks hopefully. 

“Yes, please. Anything you’re having.” 

Hotch isn’t smug, exactly, but he is admittedly very pleased at the outcome of his advice. 

[chosaya]

thinking about ex husband choso ! who knows he’s the only one who please you right but he’s sees you with another man his friend geto of all people, next thing you know he’s all over you.

He was pissed.

You try to play dumb not knowing what he's talking about. suddenly, choso wraps his arms around you from behind so your back is against his chest flushed together.

"you think he can please you better that I can, huh? didn't think so." choso keeping his hold around your waist, nibbling at your ear leaving those wet kisses you'd always loved from him when you two were together, causing a couple of soft moans escaping through your lips.

"no..no choso—" you stammer out before he interrupts you for a moment whining against him as your body melt right into his that's exactly what he wants.

“hmp, you don’t remember how much you loved me inside of you?” Choso muttered softly into your neck, his rough hands roaming down your body feeling the bulge stirring in his pants —pressed against your ass.

He wanted you to how much he wanted you after years apart.

“-no..no… choso it doesn’t matter—“.

“it does to me,baby… remember the time i made you scream my name?.. the times where—“ he pauses for a moment before snaking his hand to your thigh giving it a small squeeze, tracing the hem of your underwear with his fingers running over the wet fabric,

—pushing them aside inside exposing your pussy to him, teasingly rubbing circles on your clit, you bit on your lip trying to hold back your moan, but it’s slips past your lips, causing choso chuckle increasing the speed of his fingers as he curls them inside of you, digging your nails into the couch as I whiny gasp leaves your lips.

You didn’t want to admit that you’d miss me but you did..fuck

“…Fuck..choso.. I swear I hate you—”you gasped out, your hips bucking against his hand to gain more pleasure. His rough fingers curling inside of you feeling you clench on his fingers pushing you closer and closer to the edge before pulling his fingers out of you.

“So impatient..just wait till I’m balls deep inside you.. you won’t hate me anymore will you?”

@zarihaaa @konigbabe-interact @dprkento @p-powerr @ramonathinks @hqkalon @kishibye @satocidal @marimogf @littlemochabunni @hoshigray @dgrymn @satoruhour @kazushawty

[yuzurins]

# circles

in which: sae’s tired of running around in circles with an undefined relationship, so he decides to take his chance when he can to make you his.

warnings: kind of unorganized, mentions of alcohol, intoxicated reader, insecure reader, mutual pining, just a bunch of comfort and fluff, honestly strayed from the original prompt t-t

reblogs and interactions are appreciated!

itoshi sae is a busy man.

being the most sought for japanese football player and as well as a regular on the real matrid team meant he was always doing something football related. practices, games, events, you name it.

his schedule is packed with plans set months before they happen. companies and teams always request to see him sooner, but he makes no exceptions for anyone, not even his own family.

well, that goes for anyone but you.

itoshi sae has found himself breaking his own ideals without any hesitation. he‘s standing in front of your apartment, 5 hours, 27 minutes and 54 seconds before his flight back to spain, after an obviously drunk text you sent him 10 minutes ago.

1:22AM

y/n: saweewea

y/n: did u knwo a broken heart hurts REAL bad😍

sae: what

y/n: i think i’m goign to crush my cat with my body weight

y/n: u fg hhh hj jgjjgjhhhrkdoforjfof

sae: where are you rn

y/n: ogm r ru gonna come visit me 😎😜🥺

y/n: i’m soooerirjf lonely

sae: .

sae: be there in 5

sae doesn’t know whether to ring the doorbell or call you to let you know he’s here. heck, he’s not even sure whether you’re at home or not, but he does know that it’s not often you go out to drink. as he’s hesitating, you hastily open the door, almost like you could sense him there.

“sae!” you slur, just barely avoiding stumbling over yourself as you straighten up. “i didn’t expect you to actually come visit me.”

“neither did i.” he scoffs as he takes in your current state: graphic anime tee (which he gave you last christmas), sweatpants, messy tangled bun and your face is entirely red. you reek of soju and he knows better than anyone you’re a lightweight, so sae mentally prepares once more for what he’s about to get himself into.

the response from the magenta haired in front of you causes a pout to form on your face. he’s not quite sure if it’s just his imagination or not, but it looks like you’re more down, more tired than usual.

“are you okay?” he asks, and this prompts you to stretch your arms out, almost habitually, and wrap them around the taller male’s torso.

sae flinches ever so slightly at your touch. he gently pushes you back into the apartment as he closes the door, all while having one arm wrapped around your waist.

it’s obvious you’re not in the right mind space, but as everyone says, drunk words are sober thoughts, though sae doesn’t know whether that’s good or bad. you getting blackout drunk as a result of academic stress has become a monthly occurrence now, and it always ends up with sae coming over to babysit you. he’s more than aware of the fact that you’re taking his presence for granted, yet despite that, he’s still always there for you.

you’re obviously more than just friends, so why does sae feel like the line separating friendship and relationship just keeps getting thicker?

you latch onto him like a koala as he shuffles over to your couch. he doesn’t force anything out of you, doesn’t show any impatience, and just waits for you to talk.

the two of you quietly bask in the comfort of each other’s arms for a long time. just as sae begins to loosen his hold on you believing you’ve drifted off, you cling onto him even tighter, refusing to let go of his warmth.

“don’t go.” you mumble into his hoodie, voice quivering, and sae wonders if it really is school stress that’s made you this way.

humming in response, he pats your back lightly as if he’s caring for a baby, trailing his hand up to your head to play with your hair.

sae doesn’t want to pry, but there’s something he really needs to confirm before it eats his thoughts up even more.

“i won’t leave,” he reassures. “did anything happen?”

a sound comes out of your mouth in response, barely louder than a whisper. sae turns his head to look at you and you take it as a request for you to repeat your words. you try again, and this time, you’re still mumbling, but it’s enough for him to make out what you want to convey.

“i’m sorry.” and a tear falls from your eyes, “i’m sorry, sae.”

now sae’s been in this position for countless times, always coming to be your personal therapist at unearthly hours in the night, but this is the first time he’s ever seen you act so vulnerable. he can feel your body trembling against him and his heart aches just seeing you so dejected.

but he’s not dense enough to not realize what you’re apologizing for, because it’s the same reason as to why he decided to ask in the first place. he gently removes his arms off your waist, turns you to face him and moves his hand up to wipe the tears streaming down your cheek.

this tender, silent exchange between the two of you is more than any amount of words that express. sae’s usually indifferent eyes are laced with affection, and you just can’t help but feel so guilty because of that.

“i know you’re really busy,” you avert your eyes, biting on your bottom lip to stop yourself from breaking again. “you’re always doing so much for me, and i feel so terrible because i don’t deserve any of it.”

sae doesn’t say anything, letting you finish your thoughts before stating his.

“i was watching one of your games earlier, and i was reminded of the fact that your world and mine are so far apart.” you’re still looking away, but a soft nudge from sae’s hand pushes you back to look at him. “i just—i feel like i’m not enough for you, sae.”

through watered eyes, you can catch the expression of the male in front of you waver, and with years of knowing him, you’ve mastered the ability to be able to tell what emotions are going off in his mind.

“i know it sounds silly—“

“it’s not silly.” he interrupts, despite being patient all this time, but struggles to find the right words to continue. “is this what you’ve been feeling since back then?”

you shake your head, and lean forward to rest it on his shoulder. “the internet is scary.”

sae lets out a soft chuckle at your unintentional joke, and moves his head to rest it on the side of yours. “but what only matters is that i’m here in front of you right now, yeah?”

“it’s true that i’m busy, but i’ll always be your anchor of support whenever you need it, seriously.” his fingers find their way to intertwine with yours, and your heart flutters at how romantic he’s being. “so don’t cry sweetheart, because you’re breaking my heart as well.”

the use of the pet name makes you giggle, it being so out of character for sae, yet that’s how you know he really means it, from the bottom of his heart. hearing the sound of your laughter allows sae to relax his shoulder from all the tension he unknowingly had been feeling, and he cups your cheek with his palm, bringing you face-to-face with the taller male.

his eyes study your features, taking in your beauty, before going back to make eye contact with you. though you notice how they flicker down to your lips and hover there for a split second longer than anything else, your heart thumping loudly at the realization of what he’s asking of you.

you flash him a small smile in response as approval, and sae wastes no time closing the distance between you two. his touch is soft, almost like he’s afraid of breaking you, and easily washes away all the worries clouding your mind.

sae droops his arms over your shoulders and rests his forehead against yours. “you were always and will be more than enough for me, y/n.”

his sweet words bring a red flush to your face (not from alcohol this time) and you purse your lips in embarrassment as sae’s grin only gets bigger.

“so just hurry up and be mine already.”

BONUS: the morning after

you wake up with a pounding headache, and immediately try to get up to get a drink of water, but your body doesn’t budge at all.

as your eyes begin to adjust, you look down to find sae and his arms locked around you, causing a scoff to come out of your mouth.

of course you couldn’t move when a whole professional football player (incredibly fit btw😍) has a death grip on you.

“sae, wake up.” you nudge him and he only whines in response. “didn’t you have a flight to catch this morning?”

“mm, shush.” he takes one of his arms and lightly pushes you back down into his embrace. “who cares about that, been waiting for this for far too long.”

you laugh and decide to give in, slowly drifting back to sleep.

meanwhile, sae’s nonstop vibrating phone on your nightstand is totally unnoticed, the cause being hundreds of messages and calls from his manager wondering where he is.

[iiwontgiveuponmilkk]

Amortentia | F.W.

summary: fred and george open their shop and she's late to the grand opening. she finds ginny and hermoine standing by the love potions. she uncorks one to make the girls feel better, but she's shocked by what she smells.

word count: 1523

warnings: fluff, one mention of drinking

notes: since this was winning the poll, here you are ;)

Her day did not start how she hoped it would. She had taken the day off, but the world had other plans. She had been called into work at 3AM, unable to say no. She told her supervisor that she absolutely had to leave before nine, but she ended up being there until a little after ten. She had rushed home after her shift. She intended on going straight to the shop, but she looked like hell. She hurried to get changed and make herself look presentable to the public. Seven hours at the hospital had left her hair a mess, and it wasn’t easy to tame. She ended up pulling it back in a braid, smoothing her hair the best she could. She didn’t bother trying to cover the dark circles under her eyes, it was pointless. She had stopped for a coffee on her way to the shop, needing as much caffeine as she could to stay awake. She hurried down the sidewalk, practically jogging. She grinned when she saw the shop, the boys really weren’t ones for anything subtle. Walking into the joke shop was like something out of a movie. It was lively from the second the twins had opened the doors. She had been caught up, not able to make it right when they opened. She found herself wishing she was here when they opened the doors. It was almost ironic how magical the whole scene was. She promised her best friends that she would be there as soon as possible. She brought her coffee to her lips, forcing herself to only sip it. If the caffeine couldn’t keep her awake, the energy in this shop definitely could. It was buzzing with life and laughter. 

 She smiled to herself as she looked around. Kids were running around the shop, looks of awe on their faces. Teens were eyeing candies that would definitely get them out of class. She forced herself not to shudder at the many memories of the prototypes for all of those candies, and the time she accidentally ate a fainting fancy. It took mere seconds for her to hit the ground, yelling at Fred and George when she woke up. She found herself overwhelmed by a sense of joy for the twins as she looked around trying to find them in the crowd. The shop was packed, she figured it would be. She was so proud of both of them. She finally spotted the two, buzzing around the shop, talking to almost everyone as they zipped around. She figured the twins would find her soon or later, not wanting to interrupt them as they hastled a group of what looked to be first or second years. 

She spotted Hermoine and Ginny at a display of what looked to be love potions. She had to hand it to the twins, the display would easily draw anyone in. It was gorgeous. She made her way through the crowd and greeted the two girls. "What are you two up to?" She asked, picking up a heart shaped vial, turning it over in her hand. "We're just looking." Ginny mumbled, her cheeks slightly pink. She let it slide, already knowing what they were doing. She knew Ginny had a crush on Harry, and she knew that Hermoine was pining after Ron, even if she would deny it. "Well, I'll just look, too." She winked, uncorking the vial. “I’m sure they won’t mind.” She brought the vial up to her nose, freezing at the smell. Vanilla, pumpkin juice, floo powder, and cedarwood. She corked the vial, slowly putting it back on the display. She looked up to the two girls, hoping her cheeks weren’t as red as they felt. Ginny gave her a knowing smirk, but Hermoine looked clueless. “What did-?” Hermoine started to ask, but was cut off by the twins. She felt her cheeks burn a little hotter, causing Hermoine to smirk. That partially answered her question.

"Hello ladies. Love potions, eh?" The twins said in unison. Her cheeks burned as she met Fred's eyes. Oh, for merlin's sake. "They really do work!" Again,  in unison. The two girls wandered away, putting the potions back. George was quickly distracted by a group of young wizards, leaving her and Fred alone. She tried her best to avoid his eyes, hoping her blush would fade. "I'm sure you won't be needing that anyway." Fred slung an arm over her shoulder, "Glad you're here." He gave her a small squeeze. She leaned into him, fiddling with her sleeves. "Quite honestly, I might. You seem to be quite thick headed." She bit her lip, glancing around the shop. The silence that fell over them was deafening in the loud shop. “Uh, anyway, I do have to get back. I took an hour so I could come down.” She finally looked up at Fred, only to find him already looking at her. “What time are you off?” She noticed a faint shade of pink across his freckled cheeks. Maybe he wasn’t that thick headed. “6ish? I’m covering for Lottie so she can get some rest. We’ve been beyond short.” She fiddled with the hem of her sleeve, trying her best not to seem nervous or utterly embarrassed that she not-so-subtly told Fred she liked him. “We’ll be done around 7. Can I stop by?” Fred gave her a hopeful look. She fought the smile tugging at her lips. “Since when do you ask before you just show up? You know you’re always welcome.” She gently nudged him with her shoulder. “Sooo, is that a yes?”

She arrived home earlier than she thought she would, Lottie came back after a ‘four hour power nap’. She took the extra time to relax. A long, hot shower followed by a glass of wine and her favourite satin slip. She had contemplated not wearing pyjamas, but she did anyway. If it were anyone besides Fred stopping by, she would’ve grabbed a jumper and leggings, but Fred had seen her in a lot of scandalous situations over the years. She was curled up under a blanket on her sofa about to doze off when a knock sounded at her door. She reached for her wand, haphazardly flicking it, hoping it would actually open the door. She heard the door shut, followed by footsteps coming up the stairs. “I’m offended, couldn’t greet me at the door?” Fred asked, feigning a hurt tone. She pushed herself up at the sound of paper crinkling. She gave Fred a confused look, but a smile graced her lips when she noticed exactly what he was holding. “How rude of me! I didn’t know you were bringing a poorly wrapped gift.” She teased, patting the spot next to her. She watched Fred as he moved across the room. She reached out, tugging on his coat as he crossed in front of her. “Take your bloody coat off.” She murmured. A small laugh came from him. “Hold this then, bossy.” He pulled his coat off, laying it over the back of her sofa before sitting next to her. His hand clasped over hers as she went to shake the paper package. “Just open it.” He laughed. “And I’m the bossy one.” She mumbled, narrowing her eyes at him. Fred leaned back, throwing his arm along the back of the sofa behind her. She pulled the twine and began unfolding the paper. She felt her cheeks heat up when she saw what he had wrapped up. She took the heart shaped vial in her hand, turning her whole body to Fred. “You’re a bloody idiot.” She gave him an exasperated look. “Merlin, read the label, love.” He laughed. She let out a huff, looking down at the label. The original label had been peeled off and was replaced with Fred’s handwriting. The label had been replaced with a description of her perfume, the smell of her shampoo, the tea she always drank, and what could only be described as the smell of St. Mungos when you walked in the doors. “You could’ve just got me flowers.” She mumbled, peeking up at the red-haired man sitting next to her. “Or, I don’t know, asked me on a date anytime in the past two years.” 

“You said you might need it.” He teased, his arm falling around her shoulders and pulling her into his side. She leaned her head against him, pulling her blanket over his lap. He pulled her closer against him. “Do I?” She whispered, turning the vial over in her hands. Fred pulled away from her, bringing his hand up to her face. His fingers curled under her chin, gently pulling her gaze to his. His thumb brushed over her bottom lip as he gave her a small smile. “If I ever say yes, I want you to force me to drink that.” He leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to her lips. Her eyes fluttered shut as she kissed him back. She moved his lips against his, reaching up to tangle her fingers into his hair. She pulled back, resting her forehead against his. 

[softxsuki]

Han I have an urgent request if you don’t mind. Can I request baji, mitsuya, and chifuyu with a girlfriend who’s afraid to panic in front of them? I know that sound strange but I’ve been made fun of and/ or yelled at (which just made things 10x worse) for having panic attacks in front of friends and family. So now, I try to hold it in even if it hurts me physically, to the point I passed out recently :/ I mainly panic if my dad and step mom are fighting (I hate her) and loud noises like fireworks (been called a wimp during a festival before)

Baji, Mitsuya, and Chifuyu (Separate) With S/O Who's Afraid To Panic In Front of Them

Pairings: Baji x Fem!Reader, Mitsuya x Fem!Reader, Chifuyu x Fem!Reader

Warnings: mentions of panic attacks, feeling nervous, loud noises

Genre: Comfort

Post-Type: Headcanons

Word Count: 710

Summary: In which you begin to panic around them, but try to hold it in so they don't notice because you're scared they might judge you

[A/N: Hello <3 so sorry you have to go through this. There's nothing wrong with panicking, it's a genuine response and you just happen to have it with loud noises and arguments. I hope this gives you some comfort <3]

Baji:

He’s a little loud so he’s the one that probably accidentally sets you off with one of his rage outbursts

You’d excuse yourself and he’d see you freaking out later but you try and brush him away

He refuses though and continues to follow you around until you finally stop, tears running down your face as your breathing picks up

The only thing you can manage to do it apologize profusely as you struggle to breathe, but he has his arms around you immediately

There’s no way he’d ever make fun of you for panicking in front of him

If anything once you’re calm he tries to figure out what set you off, and when you tell him it was his outburst, he’s the one apologizing

From that day forward he tries controlling is voice when you’re around–he can be explosive (not towards you but just in general) so he keeps himself in check when you’re present

Would 10000% send you into the next room while he fights anyone that has a hint of judgment on their face when you start to panic

Mitsuya:

You show up at his place one day after your parents fight and before you realize it,  you’re knocking on his door

You kinda regret it, not wanting to show up in front of him, a panicked mess with tears running down your face…but just as you’re about to turn away and leave, he opens the door and welcomes you with open arms as soon as he sees the state you’re in

He doesn’t need an explanation, his main priority is making you comfortable first and that means pulling you into his home and making you some tea or hot cocoa (whatever would help you calm down) while he holds you in his arms

He focuses on tracing small circles into your shoulders, attempting to calm you down from your sobbing as he whispers loving words into your ear

Even as you calm down, he still won’t pry into what caused you to have a panic attack, but if you start talking about it, he quietly listens

He knows the struggles you have at home and invites you to spend the night with him for as long as you need just so you can have some time away from that environment

You’re his family and he’d do anything to make you feel safe with your emotions around him

Chifuyu:

It’s New Years and there's a firework show Chifuyu wanted to see with you, claiming it would be romantic to watch fireworks together to welcome the new year in together

It was a fairly long show, but the first big bang instantly made you tense up, alerting Chifuyu who looks over in your direction

He could see the panic on your face and takes that as his sign to spring into action

You’re placed between his legs (you were sitting on the ground looking up at the fireworks) as he places his hands around your ears to help lessen the sound of the loud bangs, leaning into your back to press a kiss to the top of your head before he leans his chin on you

You’re able to relax into his arms and feel calmer now that the fireworks don’t sound as loud as they did before, but still being able to admire the beauty of them with your boyfriend

As the countdown approaches he spins you around and presses a kiss to your lips, his hands still over your ears as more fireworks erupt around you both and the new year finally arrives

He mouths an ‘i love you’ and takes your hand to lead you away from the crowd as it gets a little more busy and loud with everyone's excitement

He’s kinda excited that he got to act out a shoujo-esque moment with you and feels pretty good about it

Chifuyu makes a mental note of your panic to the loud fireworks and will probably bring it up another day so he can find out what other things make you panic–no judgment here at all, this man thinks you’re cute 24/7, but he’d rather know so he can avoid situations that may make you have a panic attack in the future!

REGULAR REQUESTS ARE OPEN

Posted: 11/12/2023

[1800jjbarnes]

𝐋𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐍𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 | 𝐃𝐢𝐥𝐟!𝐁𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐲 𝐁𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐞𝐬

【Synopsis】 : If their was one thing James loved more. It was watching you squirm in pleasure under his touch.

『Word count』 : 615   

Paring: Dilf Neighbour!Bucky x Neighbour!Reader  

[Warnings] : Mirror sex. Denied orgasms. Fingering. Clit play. Bucky is a cheeky little shit. Swearing. Dirty Talk. Power play. Switch/leaning sub reader. Early 40s Bucky x late 20s Reader.

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He’s got you crying. That’s how long it’s been. He’s holding you up against his chest in front of the mirror at this point because your legs won’t hold you anymore. Bucky has one of his large arms around your bare chest and the other deep in your cunt. He trusts in you ever so slowly and it’s painful at this point. Yet it feels so good you want him to keep going, but you also want him to stop. You curse yourself for telling him to not stop in the talk before and now it’s happening, you might be second-guessing. But not really. Cause the sight of you in the mirror is some image to him.

The sweet, innocent girl that caught his eye wearing the most beautiful yellow sundress at the neighbourhood barbecue was nothing more than a dirty young girl, begging for the touch of an older man. His touch.

You’re breathing heavily, grabbing onto his arm that’s wrapped around you so tightly, making you unable to run away from him. He has your feet spread apart so he has full access to your dripping pussy. He pulls his fingers out, circling your clit slowly and gently, smearing the wet slick with his two fingers. Your legs are shaking with hooded eyes. All you want is a sweet release.

“Keep your eyes open, Honey. I want you to see how you look when you cum.” His words were sweet. Loving even. But you knew even though he wanted you to watch, you were most likely not gonna have your release for another while. You can feel your nerves tightening and the warmth in your gut coming again. You’re body tenses up, ready to cum but then like that Bucky stops altogether. The build-up was all for nothing…again. You squeeze his flesh arm as you breathe in heavily.

“Fuck Bucky... please,” you huff.

Bucky chuckles and begins kissing over the litter of marks he had left on your neck. He sucks at your purple and bruised skin. You could get off on this sensation alone. But it’s not enough. You need him to move his fucking hand. Frustration is building up now and you want to touch yourself to finish. To finally ease your pain. You stare him down through the mirror while you try and bring your hand to your core but Bucky chuckles darkly, smacking his away.

“Okay, okay,” He whispers in your ear. The hairs rise on your neck, and a shiver runs down your spine. When he begins circling your sensitive clit again it sends a shock through your body. You get lost in the feeling of the pleasure taking over your mind. Blurring your vision and you can feel your orgasm coming. Quicker than before and needier than the rest. But this time it was different this time with felt rushed, chaotic...

He stops again.

“James, I swear to fuck,” you curse at him.

He laughs this time. He laughs with his hand buried in your pussy. He lets go of your body, bringing his hand down your clit so he can thrust his fingers deep inside you while also circling your bud to give you maximum pleasure. “Oh is that how you want to play it now?”

“Make me cum or I’m gonna do it myself,” You snap at him but it’s light-hearted. He knows it. You were too good to disobey him. And he knew you could go for another round, heck even two or three. But maybe he’ll let you off easy. Just maybe…

-

“You wanna cum Honey?” He sits up, spreading your legs even wider so he can sink his fingers deep inside you. A smirk painted his face as he watches your body bend to his will through the mirror, if you wanted to cum, then so be it...

"You better start counting. You’re in for a long night.”

[sixlane]

@croptopjames submission | 1.5k words | NSFW - dom/sub, praise, degradation, spanking, gagging

Dedicating this to euge @ecstarry for brainrotting with me and lune @sommerregenjuniluft because we talked about dancer james once. Love you guys <3

Regulus walks the length of the studio assessing the attire of his dancers. He has a strict policy of professionalism that he makes no exceptions for, and James has been pushing his luck recently. 

He had hired James as an apprentice only a few months ago, but he was already regretting the decision. Not because of James’ abilities, but because of his utter lack of respect. 

James is a brilliant dancer, don’t get him wrong. He came from the most prestigious modern dance conservatory in the country, and Regulus had managed to sign him right out of school. 

He’s inclined to say James wasn’t worth the work, but that wouldn’t be completely true. He may make Regulus’ life a living hell, but he’s fucking gorgeous on stage, all lean muscles and strong lines. It’s captivating to watch, even more so when he gets to see it up close. 

As Regulus makes his way across the room, he catches sight of James in the back sporting gray joggers and— he has to take a minute to register what he’s seeing. Is that a fucking crop top? 

James just flashes a knowing smirk, staring Regulus down. He’s been called out for wardrobe infractions at least three times this month, and it’s starting to get old. 

“Sirius,” Regulus calls out to his brother, but more importantly, his rehearsal director. “Can you start the warm up? I need to have a word with Potter.”

A few snickers sound throughout the studio because his employees can be fucking children sometimes, and Sirius nods, getting up from his spot on the floor. 

Regulus turns toward the door, knowing James will follow him, and makes his way to his office down the hall. 

He only has to stand behind his desk for a minute, arms crossed, before James waltzes in, closing the door behind him. 

“This is grossly unprofessional, you do realize that,” Regulus deadpans. 

“I do realize that,” James responds innocently, batting his lashes. 

Regulus runs his eyes over the man standing in front of him, something he didn’t want to do in front of everyone in the studio. 

The top hits a few inches above his navel and exposes the soft lines of his abs and a stripe of dark hair that trails beneath his joggers. 

“Eyes up here,” James says, bringing Regulus’ attention back to the matter at hand. 

He gives James a stern look and leans forward on his desk.

“How many times do I have to tell you this won’t be tolerated in my company?” he asks. 

James’ eyes darken and he leans forward to mirror Regulus. “Not sure. Will you tell me again?”

The audacity of this man… Well, Regulus thinks, maybe it’ll stick this time. 

He reaches across the table casually, stroking a hand across James’ face. The dancer leans into it, fluttering his eyes shut for a moment, before Regulus reaches around his head to grab a fistful of his hair.

James opens his eyes and a slanted smile pulls at his mouth.

“Keep your hands on the table,” Regulus says before pushing James’ head down onto his desk. “Don’t move.”

James goes willingly, bending in half over the desk like a dream.

Regulus walks around to stand behind him, admires the curve of his ass and the ridges of his spine where they’re exposed under his shirt. He runs his fingers over them, eliciting a small shiver from James.

Regulus dips his hands into the waistband of James’ joggers, sinking his nails into the soft skin, before roughly pushing his pants down around his ankles.

James’ breathing picks up, his anticipation getting the better of him. Regulus would love to draw this out, but he’s afraid he hasn’t got the time today.

He smacks James’ ass once, causing the other man to jolt and let out a soft whine.

“Stay quiet,” Regulus commands.

James nods in confirmation. A lie, most likely.

Regulus lets a finger wander through the cleft of James’ ass, circling his rim in slow and deliberate movements. He keeps his eyes on James’ face where it’s pressed against his desk. His eyes are shut, mouth open. 

“You’re so pretty like this,” Regulus says. “When you’re not talking back to me.”

James makes a needy noise pressing his hips back onto Regulus’ finger, searching for a fullness he knows is coming.

Regulus smacks him again across the same spot as before. “Don’t get greedy. You know how this works.”

James nods again looking at Regulus now. His pupils are absolutely blown and it’s all Regulus can think about. The desperate want in his eyes.

“Tell me,” Regulus instructs.

James rolls his eyes back as he starts to lightly circle his rim again.

“Words, James.”

“You’re in charge,” James breathes.

“And I can do whatever I want with you,” Regulus adds.

“Whatever you want.”

“Good boy.” Regulus pulls his hand away again, but James doesn’t get a chance to protest before it’s being pushed into his mouth. “Now suck.”

James moans around his fingers, hollowing his cheeks and making a show out of it. He knows this undoes Regulus every time, watching as he listens so well, follows every command. It’s a high he’ll be riding for the rest of rehearsal.

“That’s right baby, get them nice and wet for me,” Regulus praises, bringing his other hand up to grab at James’ hip, keep him from moving too much.

When spit starts to drip down his chin, Regulus pulls his fingers away, and the noise James makes is fucking filthy. A keen he’s sure the whole company just heard, and that just won’t fly. 

Regulus moves his hand from James’ hip up into his hair, yanking him back until he’s hovering above the desk.

“James, what did I fucking say,” Regulus hisses. “Do you need something in your mouth? Hm? Such a slut for it you can’t follow simple directions?”

James moans loudly, a please falling from his lips somewhere in there.

Regulus releases him and he falls back onto the desk with a whine. 

Going back around his desk, Regulus fishes through his bottom drawer with his clean hand, finding what he’s looking for. A dress code appropriate t-shirt he keeps for times like these, when James just can’t help himself. He shoves it in James’ mouth harshly then pats him on the cheek. 

“There you go baby. Now you can tell me just how much you like it.”

And James does without a second thought, immediately filling the room with muffled noises.

Regulus resumes his position behind the dancer, running his spit-slick fingers against James’ hole.

“Ready?” He asks.

James is a mess, barely there at this point even though Regulus hasn’t even done anything, but he nods anyway, and Regulus pushes a finger in slowly.

“Always so tight for me baby.”

“Mmph,” James moans around the shirt. He tries to fuck his hips forward into nothing, desperate for some friction against his neglected cock, but Regulus holds him still. He should know by now that he’ll stay untouched until Regulus allows it.

Once he feels James is ready, he adds another finger, leaning down to spit into the place where they slide into James. He increases the speed, crooking them to brush the spot that reduces James to a moaning mess. 

He sees James’ eyes roll back again as he makes a muffled sound, so debauched and fucked out already. 

For the first time, Regulus notices his own wetness pooling in his briefs, but he ignores it. This isn’t about him.

“Can you be a good boy and take another,” Regulus asks, and James nods enthusiastically. If he wasn't gagged, Regulus knows he’d be begging, has heard it enough times to memorize the sound.

Regulus pulls out completely, watching James’ hole flutter briefly around nothing, before pushing three fingers back in.

James balls his fists against the desk, barely moving his hips, trying so hard to be good. Regulus decides to cut him some slack.

“Fuck yourself on them baby, it’s okay.”

James obeys immediately, pushing his hips back wildly and making ungodly sounds that he wishes he could hear unobstructed. 

Caught up in the image of James losing control, Regulus reaches around to touch his neglected cock where it’s been leaking onto the floor. He collects the precome beading at the tip to soften the slide, and pumps James slowly in time with the movement of his hips.

“You close? Gonna come for me?” Regulus asks, sugar sweet.

James barely responds, but the crease between his eyebrows gives him away. Regulus knows it means he’s heading toward the edge of the cliff.

Quickly, before it’s too late, Regulus pulls his hand away, pulls his fingers out, leaving James empty and neglected once again.

He smacks James’s ass roughly, then digs his fingers into the flesh, punishing.

Leaning forward, he puts his mouth right up against James’ ear, “Only good boys get to come, James. I expect you back in rehearsal in five minutes wearing that shirt in your mouth.”

James sobs into the fabric, ruined and undoubtedly aching, and Regulus leaves him there to clean himself up.

Maybe this time he’ll finally learn his lesson.

[freedomfireflies]

Found

Summary: An extra for Mine*

The one where your mafia boss boyfriend, Harry, has to put you in danger in order to keep you safe.

Word Count: 2.8k

*Contains Mature and Explicit content! Please only consume what you feel comfortable with!💞 You are so much more important!*

“Asher?”

Harry’s eyes find the floor, narrowing with a malicious vengeance.

It’s a look you know well, but never in relation to the aforementioned man. His partner, his second-in-command.

His friend.

You stand and make your way to him, wary of his demeanor as you gently outstretch your finger to his arm. “What’s wrong?”

He almost looks like he wants to flinch when you touch him, and your heart aches for whatever he’s fighting inside.

But then, he looks to you. He looks, and he wraps his arms around you, and he nearly yanks you into his chest.

Everything is him. Every scent, every sound, every feel. His muscles are rigid, and his breathing is shallow, and he’s cursing through gritted teeth.

He doesn’t let you go. Not for quite some time, and despite your attempts to rub his back in soothing circles, nothing calms him.

Finally, he pulls back to take hold of your face. He nuzzles his lips and nose into your forehead, and whispers, “I love you. I’m sorry. I’m so fucking sorry I ever let them take you—”

“Harry,” you exhale, slipping yourself free of his hold so you can look him in the eye. “Don’t do that, we talked about this—”

“I don’t care,” he nearly growls. “I don’t care, I love you, and I never should have let them take you. You have no idea what they could have done—”

“Yes, I do. I was there.”

The reminder makes his expression drop. Skin paling almost as if the thought repulses him.

He moves to hold you again, and you let him, but you don’t wipe the stern look from your face. “Harry, what’s wrong? What’s going on? What’s wrong with Asher?”

He’s quiet for a long lull. Perhaps in an effort to prepare you or perhaps he’s simply trying to wrap his head around it himself.

“His comms are down,” Harry begins slowly. “And they found his tracker discarded a few miles outside of the warehouse.” 

You feel your heart leap into your throat. “What, um…what does that mean? Is he okay?”

That pensive look returns as he squeezes the back of your neck gently. “It means I have to do something I don’t want to.”

“Like…what?”

His eyes return to yours. A vibrant green that bleeds remorse as he dips down to run his lips along your temple lovingly. “I’m so sorry I ever put you in danger.”

Your heart sinks. “Harry—”

“I’m sorry that loving me causes you more pain than joy,” he whispers, and you can hear each ounce of guilt. “I’m sorry that my love comes with so many conditions—”

“Harry,” you try again, leaning back to take hold of his face and squeeze. “You’re scaring me. What’s going on with Asher, what do you have to do?”

He stares at you for a long while, a subtle red rim swimming beside his lashes. “I need to make a call,” he says shortly.

And with that, he pulls himself from your arms and disappears into the other room, the phone squeezed tightly in his hand.

You hear his heated conversation through the walls of the small apartment. Can’t decipher what he’s saying but you know he’s upset. And when he returns half an hour later, he’s wrought with frustration and regret. 

“Har?” you begin gently, cautiously watching from your spot in the tiny kitchen. “Are you…is everything okay?”

You know he won’t offer you an honest answer. He doesn’t particularly like sharing the details of his job with you. He claims it’s better if you don’t know. Safer. And maybe he’s right.

Or maybe he just wants to protect you any way he knows how.

He looks up and finds you. Frowns in the kind of way that has your soul sinking down to the cold, hardwood floor below as he strides over to you.

He takes your hands. Pulls you into his chest and traps you against his heart. Buries his lips into the crown of your head and whispers, “I love you,” for what feels like the hundredth time today.

You smile sadly. “I love you, too. But you’re really starting to scare me, Har. I just…I wanna make sure you’re okay.”

He leans back and captures your cheeks in his palms. Presses his love into your skin as he sucks in a sharp breath and murmurs, “Do you trust me?”

Your answer is instantaneous. “Yes.”

He seems relieved. He seems gutted. “And do you trust that I would never knowingly put you in danger? That I would do anything to ensure your safety?”

You swallow thickly. “Of course.”

He exhales shakily before dipping down to press his forehead to yours. “Do you trust that I love you? More than anything in the fucking world?”

There’s an odd feeling blooming in your chest yet you feel strangely calm. “Yes,” you tell him, nuzzling into his touch. “Always.”

He keeps his eyes closed. Doesn’t let you go as struggles through his next sentence. “Then I need you to do something for me, mama.”

“Anything.”

His features twist, as if it wounds him to hear you say it. “I need you to go sit down on that couch.”

Your lashes flutter as you slip your fingers around his wrists. 

“I need you to sit down, and I need you to wait,” he continues, in a tone so distraught, it makes your throat feel dry. “And I need you to trust that whatever happens next…is because I love you.”

Your breath hitches.

“I need you to trust that this is the only way.” His grip becomes tighter. “I need you…to trust me.”

Despite the countless warnings currently going off in your head, you nod quickly. “I do. I trust you, Har. I promise.”

The muscles in his jaw constrict, teeth scraping together as he stumbles over a wounded inhale. Then, he surges forward and presses his lips to yours. Over and over and over he kisses you. Mumbling, “I love you, sweet girl. More than anything in the whole fucking world. I love you, I love you, I love you.”

His anguish is evident. Body tense beneath your touch and chest heaving with grief. He’s moments away from allowing the tears to fall from his eyes, and it hurts you to see him in so much suffering. 

He kisses you until he has to rip himself away. Tearing himself out of your arms before turning on his heel to disappear into the next room, without so much as a glance back.

And you know it kills him to do it.

You look toward the living room, eyeing the couch warily while taking a deep breath. You do trust him. More than anything.

So, you sit. Take a seat on the center cushion and pull your knees to your chest in wait.

Minutes go by. Then an hour. Harry never returns. The entire apartment is silent. The sun is beginning to set behind the mountains he’s hidden you in, leaving you to wonder in the darkness.

And then…a sound. The first sound in forever. The murmuring of hushed voices and the shimmying of a lock.

The front door opens. Three figures creep into the room, dressed in all black. It’s an instant wave of déjà vu, reminding you of only a few days ago when you were taken the first time.

You want to hide. Want to scream in protest. Want to call out to the man you love and have him protect you.

But he knows they’re here.

And he wants them to take you.

Maybe you don’t know why. Maybe you should be wildly confused and insanely terrified.

But you’re not. You trust him. And as the three shadows find you on the couch, you exhale a deep breath, and allow yourself to be approached.

You play up your terror. Figuring it’s better to give them a little fight so they don’t suspect your compliance.

You gasp and you whimper, and you attempt to squirm away as they crowd you. But only one man kneels to the floor in front of your feet, pressing a large, glove-covered palm to your mouth.

You suck in a shaky pant as his eyes find yours through the mask he wears to hide his face.

And those eyes.

You’d know those eyes anywhere. As soft and reassuring as the touch against your lips. He doesn’t speak. Doesn’t call you by that familiar nickname or attempt to comfort you.

But you know him.

You aren’t sure why he’s here. Aren’t sure why he’s with them, but Harry must know. And if he’s allowing him to take you…it must be for a reason.

Things work quicker from there. They bind your hands before one of them throws you over their shoulder. They take you from your place of safety and toss you into a van. They don’t speak to you, they don’t look at you, they don’t even sit near you.

Everything is cold and dark. Far too quiet and somewhat unnerving. You drive for what feels like hours before the car finally stops and you’re removed from your prison.

You’re brought into a different warehouse this time. Smaller. Fuller. There are guards crawling in every corner of the room. Guns, grenades, and various weapons litter the walls and tables. It smells like cigars and bad decisions.

And just before you can allow yourself to doubt Harry’s intentions, you’re brought into a large office.

And sat in front of the one man Harry fears the most.

Callahan Matthews. 

 You’ve seen his face enough times to recognize it now. The way it leers at you. The way it smiles behind the cigar placed between his strangely white teeth. The way he gestures for you get comfortable as the office door shuts firmly.

“Well, well, well,” he begins in a sadistic croon, leaning back in his seat to study you. “How nice to finally meet you.”

You feel your blood run cold as you stare back, offering nothing more than an unamused frown.

Matthews glances toward the guard that brought you in. “Was she any trouble?”

“Not at all,” the man replies, the familiar voice sending chills down your spine as he slips off his mask to reveal his face.

Asher.

“She never is,” he adds, the corner of his mouth curling up in a cruel display of agreement. “Isn’t that right, sweetheart?”

 Your fingers grip the armrests beside you, chest heaving as you work to remind yourself of why you’re here.

Your confusion and betrayal makes both men grin. “And Styles?” Matthews asks. “Where is he?”

“He was at the apartment,” Asher tells him, and you feel your head begin to pound. “We left him be, just like you asked.”

“Good.” Matthews crosses his arms over his chest. “You think he’ll come for her?”

“I know he will. He’ll give you anything you want to keep her pretty little head on her pretty little neck.”

The larger man laughs, pulling the cigar from his mouth. “And isn’t that just a shame? A man with so much power brought to his knees by something so pathetic.”

“Incredibly so,” Asher agrees, allowing his focus to drift back down to you. “Don’t you think?”

You toss him a bitter glare. “Bite me.”

Asher hums. “Haven’t I already?” he murmurs, leaning down and forcing you to rear back. His smug condescension more than evident. “Unless you want to beg me to do it again?”

Matthews smirks. “Perhaps if he’d spent more time questioning the men he allowed into his home—into his girlfriend…he’d have found his supposed mole.”

“Harry trusts too easily,” Asher declares, finally straightening up and allowing you to breathe. “Always has. It makes him incredibly weak.”

“And incompetent.” Matthews rakes his gaze over your tense figure. “Can’t imagine what she sees in him.”

“She sees what he wants her to see,” Asher says. “If he tells her he loves her, she believes it. If he tells her she’s safe, she believes it. If he tells her she loves him…she’ll believe it. All he has to do is convince her that she’s being saved, and she’ll do anything he wants.”

It’s the lowest of blows. Coming from the man who watched your relationship bloom from the very beginning. Who was there through every fight, every miscommunication, every moment of realization. 

He knows the two of you better than anybody else does.

And if this is truly how he feels…

The office door slams open. Four men wrestle through the frame, pulling a struggling man in their grasp.

Harry.

You see him out of your peripheral. See the blood around his cheeks, the bruises already darkening in color, and the ripped fabric on his chest. 

You feel sick. Distraught beyond measure and when his eyes find yours, tears begin slipping down your cheeks.

He’s shoved onto his knees as Matthews stands from behind his desk. Asher remains to the side, watching as a gun is pressed into the temple of his friend’s head.

He says nothing. Shows no remorse or acknowledgement of such cruelty. 

His indifference is infuriating.

“Suppose I shouldn’t be surprised,” Matthews begins as one of the guards weaves their fingers through Harry’s hair and yanks his head back. “But I am a little disappointed.”

Harry remains quiet. Breathing heavily between gritted teeth as he stares daggers through the man approaching. 

“I was hoping for a little more of a fight,” the man admits. “Perhaps even a reason to respect you before I kill you. But I see you lose your edge where she’s concerned.”

Your nails scrape down the chair. Desperately wanting to run to him. To throw your body in front of his and shield him from the weapon you can already see Asher slipping from his belt.

“It’s a shame she has to watch the great Harry Styles die in such a trivial way,” he tsks, hand outstretching for the gun Asher is offering to him. “But I suppose that’s what you get…for thinking you were strong enough to save her.”

The sound of a bullet ripping through the air reaches you before the realization does.

The weapon has been fired. A body is hitting the floor and you’re ready to scream as a smattering of blood streaks across your cheek.

With a wounded, heavy, and unmendable heart, you find the man you love. Needing to see him one last time.

But Harry is still kneeling on the floor. Exactly the way he was before, now covered in a few extra drops of blood.

That aren’t his.

You turn and look for the answer. 

You find it with Asher.

The gun is raised and pointed toward the large man responsible for so much pain and destruction. You see the bullet through his skull as his lifeless body splays across the ground. A pool of blood collecting around his head.

Smoke wafts from the barrel as Asher stares calmly and stoically before he turns his attention and his weapon toward the other four in the room.

“You touch her…or you touch him,” he begins in a threatening murmur, eyebrow raised and ready for any defiance, “and I will make sure there’s enough room in the ground for your bodies, too.”

A moment of silence dances between the walls.

And then, for the second time in twenty-four hours, you’re forced to watch a sea of bullets fly through the air.

You aren’t sure who fires first. Aren’t sure where the danger lies. But you are sure of the way you lunge yourself at Harry’s body to pull him out of harm’s way.

His arms wrap around your torso as you both roll into the corner, just behind the desk. The sound of more gunshots echoes in from the rest of the warehouse as you make the connection that Harry’s men have arrived.

Your ears are ringing. Your chest is pounding. So much violence and strife is happening all around you. And you can do nothing but bury your face in Harry’s chest and will it to be over.

And through all the chaos, you hear him whisper, “I’m so fucking sorry. I had to. I had to let them take you, I’m so fucking sorry. Never let them take you again. I love you. I’m so fucking sorry.”

You aren’t sure when it finally stops. At least in this room. Aren’t sure when the ricocheting of bullets comes to an end. But you do eventually feel Harry lift up to survey the damage and make sure the coast is clear.

The resonating terror is pounding inside your head, but you do your best to follow him out from behind the table. Clutching onto his hand as he leads you into the main part of the office where you find an array of dead bodies and blood dispersed across the walls and floor. 

And just when you feel the first rush of relief in what feels like weeks…you find one more body in the corner of the room.

With a bullet hole right through his chest.

Asher.

Wow, now that's two parts where we end with his name said all dramatically, it's almost like he's the main character??? OOPS??? 🙃 I LOVE YOU ALL, THANK YOU FOR READING AND WAITING AND BEING SO NICE TO ME😭💞

Next Part:

~ Home

Previous Part:

~ Lost

~ Full Mine Masterlist

~ Other Harry Blurbs

~ Full Masterlist

Taglist (If you ever need or want to be taken off, or simply excluded from certain fics like this one, please let me know!! 💞) : @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite @keepdrivingkisses @swiftmendeshoran @tiredinwinter @straightontilmornin @justlemmeadoreyou @harrysdaydreams @tiaamberxx @peterparker1sgf @myfavfanficsever @vamprry @fdl305 @tchalametishot @ssaama @indierockgirrl @likeapplejuicenpeach @vane28282 @acesofspadess @stylesfever @narry-heart @virginvirgo @pagesfalling @creativelyeva @char112244 @snwells @armystay89 @oh-my-hecky-padalecki

[vanfleeter]

Needy

Characters: Jake Kiszka x Fem!Reader

Warnings: 18+, minors DNI. Language. Smut. Fingering (fem!receiving), oral (fem!receiving), unprotected sex, p in v.

Author's Note: Short little thing, I hope you enjoy.

🔺🔺🔺🔺🔺🔺🔺🔺🔺🔺🔺🔺🔺🔺🔺🔺🔺🔺🔺🔺

The front door slams shut causing Jake to flinch in his seated position on the couch. He reaches for the remote and pauses the show playing on the television. “Babe?” He calls as he pushes off the couch. Your heavy footsteps pounding up the stairs tell him that you are not in a happy mood. Taking precautions, he slowly ascends the stairs to the second floor. He can hear you rustling around in the bedroom, dresser drawers slamming closed followed by your angry mumbling.

He carefully opens the bedroom door and pokes his head inside. He watches you as you roughly rip your shirt up and over your head before chucking it into the hamper. Your gaze catches sight of him in the mirror and your eyebrows crease. “What?” You snap. He holds his hands up in the air and retreats back a step. You sigh, your shoulders dropping. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to snap at you.”

“Is everything okay?” He asks as he attempts one step forward.

You shake your head and reach behind to your back and unclasp your bra. Jake gulps as he sees your breasts spill onto your chest, finally free of their confines.

“I’m assuming something happened at work?”

He earns a roll of your eyes before you turn around to face him. “Everything under the sun fucking happened and honestly, I don’t want to fucking talk about it.” You say. “I need a shower..”

He watches you as you go into the bathroom, closing the door a little more harshly than usual. Exhaling a breath, he goes to lay on the bed and rests his arm over his face. It’s going to be a long night, this much he knows. What felt like a few minutes, he hears you calling his name from inside the shower. Pushing off the bed, he makes his way into the bathroom and shuts the door behind him.

“What can I help you with, love?” He asks.

You pull the shower curtain open and peer your head out to look at him. “I promise I won’t be mad at you–though if you say no, then I will be mad–”

“Do you want me to join you?” He prompts. You nod your head and he chuckles.

Stripping off his clothes and leaving them in a pile on the floor, he steps into the shower and closes the curtain. He starts to reach for the bottle of your shampoo when you reach to grab his wrist, preventing him from grabbing it. He gives you a confused look and you shake your head. He watches you as you move his hand towards your body until his hand is cupping your breast.

“Oh is that what you want?” He says as he starts to massage your breast within his hand. You nod your head and he smirks. Carefully turning you around so your back is facing him, he trails his other hand down your front until he reaches your now aching cunt. He leans you back against his body as he works his fingers against your clit and plays between your folds.

“Jake…” You breathe as you rest your head back against his shoulder. “Please..”

“Please what?”

“Please fuck me..”

“Yeah?” He circles your clit again. “Will that make you feel better?” You nod your head and clasp your hands around his arm. You feel him smiling against your temple before he retracts both of his hands. He keeps you turned away from him and he grabs your shampoo from the ledge and he squirts a little in his hands before rubbing them together and running them through your head.

Once he gets you cleaned and relaxed, he shuts the water off and takes you out of the shower before drying you off. Softly and sweetly. Picking you up in his arms, he carries you out to the bedroom and lays you out on the bed.

Still buttnaked, he walks over to your vanity and grabs a bottle of lotion. Coming back to the bed, he puts a little lotion in the palm of his hand. Moving across the bed, he positions himself in between your legs and grabs one of them to rub the lotion into your skin. Completing the task of making your legs all silky smooth, he lifts up one of your legs and leaves kisses from your ankle up to the inside of your thigh.

He comes to your center, gently grazing his nose against your throbbing clit. He sticks out his tongue and licks a long stripe through your folds. A moan escapes you and you curl your fingers into his damp locks. He glides his hands up your legs and begins kneading his thumbs into the skin of your inner thighs.

He continues his assault on your cunt. He flicks your now swollen clit with his tongue, eliciting the deepest moan you’ve ever made. He chuckles, his breathing warming your soaked cunt.

He dives back in with his tongue and continues licking and sucking and fucking you with just his tongue. But he pulls away just before you crash in your orgasm. You whine and whimper, clawing at him to make him keep going.

“You asked for me to fuck you,” He says as he spreads your legs and repositions himself between you. “So that’s what I’m going to do.” Stroking himself a few times, he lifts your hips and lines himself up with your entrance.

Slowly he pushes inside of you, both of you moaning in pleasure as he stretches you out. He fills you completely, pushing himself deeper inside of you until his pelvis touches yours. He rests there for a little bit before pulling out only to the tip. Pushing back in, he starts with a steady rhythm.

It doesn’t take him long before he’s pounding into you. Your breasts bounce insanely as he drives into you over and over. He can’t help but to look between you two, watching as his cock slides in and out of you with ease.

“Oh fuck..” He groans, throwing his head back. He drops his head again. “Touch yourself.” He says.

You move your hand down and rub your clit. “Fuck.. Jake..” You moan. Your back arches off the bed as the warm feeling fills your core.

“Come on baby, give it to me.” He continues thrusting into you, each one bringing you closer and closer to your ending.

The feeling of his cock twitching inside of you, signaling his own impending undoing, pushes you over the edge of the cliff and plummeting straight into your orgasm. You can’t stop yourself from screaming out his name.

He still thrusts inside of you, never seizing until he comes undone himself, spilling completely inside of you. Once he fully empties out, he gently pulls out of you before crawling up the bed to lay down beside you.

“Feel any better?” He says, turning his head to look at you. He sees your head slowly nod and he chuckles. “Sometimes you just need a good fuck to relax.” You can’t stifle the laugh that comes out of you and he laughs along with you.

___________________________________________________

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Want to be added? Just let me know! 😊

[minihotdog]

Locked Out On Valentine's (Ending: You didn't take the tea)

Pairing: Simon "Ghost" Riley x Fem!Reader

C/W: Smut, unprotected P in V, Somnophilia, poor foreplay, possessiveness

Word Count: 1k

Previous part

“You want some tea, love?”

***

You’re inclined to accept but don’t want to be too demanding while he’s so kind to let you sleep on his couch. 

You put on your best smile, “I’m alright, thank you.”

”I thought I’d offer, keep your head up, yeah?” He says sympathetically before heading off down the hallway. You turn off the floor lamp at the other end of the couch and scroll through your phone, mentally scolding yourself every time you think about going to your ex’s socials to see if he’d posted any pictures of him and your ex-best friend. Your heart pangs with sadness. You dared to open yourself up to two people and got humiliated twice over. You bite back tears, throwing your phone down and trying your best to fall asleep despite the gaping hole in your chest. 

Simon struggled with sleep usually. It wasn’t something he shared with just anyone. He tosses and turns all night and when he does finally find the slumber he’s chasing he’ll jerk awake at the scenes of horrible memories that weigh heavily on his mind. But tonight was different.

The ‘intel girl’ was finally within reach. The boys at work would go quiet every time she would walk by and once she disappeared they talked about their various plans to be the one to chat her up.

He lies awake with his thoughts racing, thinking of her. Thinking of the way she looked at him when he opened his door to her. The way her tank top clung to her, the supple flesh of her breasts outlined perfectly, and the image burned into his mind of when she leaned over the couch, her shorts riding up her toned thighs and the curve of her ass… He felt as if he was running a fever.

He throws the covers to the side letting the cool air hit his overheated skin. He readjusts his sweats, setting his manhood free. He strokes himself to mental images of you to no avail. It’s not enough for him after having you so close. He yearns to feel your skin against his, the need eats away at him. 

His mind begins to tell him that you need him, heartbroken and so needy. Why else would you show up looking the way you did? What if getting locked out of your room was just a scheme to get near him?

He knows you’re attracted to him. The sly glances you always send his way when the two of you pass each other. The flustered look you get when he speaks to you, no matter how brief. It had all been a call to him, of all the men hunting for you, you’d already chosen him.

Before he knows it, he’s opening his bedroom door and standing over your sleeping body. You lie on your side, one palm resting atop the other. So soft in your sleep, unbothered. He wants to reach out and run his fingers over your tear-stained cheeks. 

He climbs over you and carefully lodges himself between you and the backrest. He slowly wraps his arms around you and breathes in your scent. He wonders for a moment if this is the best way to let you know the feeling is mutual, but he knows he won’t have the courage to let you know any other way.

He leaves soft kisses on your shoulder, leading them to your neck. He restrains himself from biting the skin, leaving his mark on you, afraid that it’ll wake you too soon. His rough hands squeeze your breasts, caressing them over your clothing. You stir slightly in your sleep causing him to halt for a moment. He continues his scheme and trails down your stomach slipping his hand beneath your shorts. He moves his thigh in between yours to give himself room.

The pads of his fingers rub slow circles into your clit as he lies there breathing you in. You whine in your sleep. He leaves open-mouthed kisses on your delicate neck, speeding up the pace he was toying your clit with. You fuss in your sleep, the foreign feeling disrupting your dreams. Your absentminded moans spur him on. He presses his bulge against your backside, sighing into your neck.

”Simon?” You half slur half moan. He shushes you, working your clit in tight circles. Your hand grips his forearm weakly. 

“S’alright, doll. I’ve got you.”

He runs a finger over your slit feeling the drip from your cunt. He can’t contain himself any longer, needing to feel you, hear you cry out for him.

”I’m sorry, love. I’ll make it up to you.” You barely comprehend what he says. He feels bad for not preparing you properly but the blood rushing to his cock has left him painfully hard. You unknowingly contributed to the unbearable ache.

He yanks your shorts off and places your leg over his, spreading you wide open. He wraps his hand around his throbbing length and runs his leaking tip over your folds, lubricating it before he pushes into you.

The resistance forces a gasp from you, stilling your body as he carefully thrusts himself into you. You dig your nails into his thigh trying to push yourself away.

”Easy, easy.” He coos at you, caressing your back with his lips. His arms wrap around your waist, your arm trapped under his heavy biceps. He continues with his shallow thrusts until he’s almost fully in.

”I’ll stop here, love. Deep breath for me.” He speaks so lovingly between his own ragged breaths, as if he hadn’t woken you up with his hand down your shorts. You finally suck in a breath and he pulls out. He waits for you to exhale and shoves himself back in. You squeak, the friction mixes with pleasure. Your brain is still recovering from the fog and unsure if this is actually happening. He gives you a few slow thrusts before his stride increases. 

You whine loudly, not prepared for his hurried movements. He apologizes in your ear repeatedly, gasping and groaning at your tightness. 

“Fuck, I needed you so bad, love. I hope you understand.” He loses his self-restraint, littering you with bite marks, wanting it to be known that you were taken. You cry out in pain as it shoots through your neck and shoulder, his teeth digging into you. He licks the wounds, soothing your irritated skin.

He rams into your cervix and you shutter in his arms.

”Too deep!” You cry out once more. 

“Forgive me.” He brings two of his fingers to his mouth, wetting them before bringing them down once more to run frantic circles into your clit.

Your uneven gasps turn to moans and your eyes shut tightly. His thrusts are still violent and overbearing, but the tingles running through you once his fingers slip over the nub, paired together make you drool onto the pillow below you. 

His hard thrusts jolt you upwards. He growls into your neck sending shivers through your spine. 

“Simon!” You whimper. His eyes nearly roll back hearing you call out his name. 

“That’s right, doll. Say my name. Let everyone hear you.” He growls. His unoccupied hand wraps firmly around your neck. He forces your back into an arch. Taking advantage of the new angle he pounds into you, the pleasure that rolls through you is dizzying. Your legs try to close but he forces them open. Your mouth hangs but you can’t bring yourself to make a single sound.

“You look so fucking beautiful. So gorgeous.” He breathes out. Your eyebrows once furrowed from the shocks running through you with each thrust now furrow in confusion.

”Look at yourself, look how beautiful you look getting fucked by me.”

You open your eyes, looking around trying to figure out what he meant. He forces your head in the right direction and your eyes land on the reflection of the two of you off the window. 

It was hard to make out, fuzzy but from where you lied you could see your faces. His hair was stuck to his forehead, his lips parted briefly before his jaw clenched, your mouth still hanging open, legs wide. Your pussy clamps down on him when you see his hand between your legs and his cock disappearing into you. He moans and you watch as he nips your shoulder and then nudges his nose into your hair.

”Squeezin’ the life out of me, darlin’.”

The sight is so pornographic a new wave of wetness comes over you. He slips in and out of you with a delicious slickness. 

Without warning you begin spasming around him. The first one comes and the second takes a moment. Your orgasm takes you by surprise, his fingers work you through the whole thing as your deep convulsions let you feel him fully.

He cries out behind you, his deep moans fuel your release further on. You chant his name and he falls over the edge spilling inside you. He slows his movements, thrusting his cum into you. He twitches inside of you repeatedly, giving you months of pent-up lust.

He slows to a stopping point while kissing your marked skin. He holds you for a while until his breathing stabilizes itself.

 He lowers your leg and slides out from behind you, climbing over your spent body and disappearing for a moment. He returns with a wet rag, cleaning you up before himself. He rounds up the soiled rag in the discarded blanket that somehow got into the mess of fluids. 

He slides your shorts over your legs letting his fingers run along your heated skin before lifting your limp body off the couch and carrying you into his bedroom.

”You’re sleepin’ here for the rest of the night.”

You barely acknowledge the change in location already falling asleep in his arms.

He places you on his soft bed and takes his place next to you. 

The warm covers and his arms are the last thing you feel before falling into a deep sleep. 

He tangles his body with yours giving you one last kiss.

You had no idea, but from that moment on you were his. Only his.

[fandomnerd9602]

Jealous Student

Wanda Maximoff x Nerd!Reader (High School AU)

You’ve been dating popular girl and magic user Wanda Maximoff for close to a few months at this point.

Honestly you’ve been on cloud nine. You and Wanda knew everything about one another already thanks to your strong friendship. Everyone in Wanda’s friend circle approved of you.

It didn’t matter to Wanda that you were a nerd, you were her nerd.

Everything was going well or so you thought. It was around this time that a foreign exchange student came in. His name was Vision Jarvis, a proper British chap.

It didn’t take long, literally five minutes of walking on to campus to make a beeline for your girlfriend.

“Excuse me, miss?” The proper British accent showing, “can you tell me where I can locate Mr Fury’s class?”

“Yes that’s Y/N and mine’s class” she explains, gesturing to you.

“Perfect. I’m Vision.” He shakes her hand and kisses her knuckles.

“Wanda” she gives a smile.

“And I’m Y/N” you give him a handshake, trying not to show the jealousy brewing in your very soul.

Wanda gives your hand a gentle squeeze as the two of you guide Vision to your class.

Vision quickly starting hanging out with you and Wanda. He quickly gained the affection of all your friends.

“Watch out, Hufflepuff” Tony Stark warns you within the week.

“What?”

“Proper British dude? The accent?” He explains, “no girl can resist any accent.”

“I take it you used an accent when you asked out Pepper?”

“Didn’t fool her at all but I did make her laugh” he smirks.

Vision was seeming awful chummy with Wanda. He was a fan of Dick Van Dyke and Florence and the Machine.

Somehow you felt that you were starting to become the third wheel.

You approach Wanda during lunch, handmade lunches in tow. “Hey Wanda, I was wondering if you wanted to continue our Harry Potter marathon tonight”

“Harry Potter?” Vision chimes, “i love the Wizarding World!”

“Uhh…Vision was wondering if he could tag along.” Wanda looks at you uneasy.

“Oh” you find your voice brimming with sadness, “well…uhh…”

Vision interrupts, “Wanda I was inquiring if you and Y/N would like to join me for tea later”

“Well Vis the thing is-“ Wanda tries to say. But it was too late you walked away, a few tears making their way down your cheek.

“Detka?!” Wanda calls out to you before chasing after you.

“You seem awful chummy with him” you state, trying to keep from being heard by anyone else but her.

“Vis? Well he’s new.” Wanda tries to explain.

“It’s the accent right?”

“Huh? What are you talking about?”

“You like him. You like Vision more than me” you finally blurt out.

“No I don’t.” Wanda looks at you so confused.

“Does he even know we’re dating? No one is ever that chummy with someone unless they’re into you”

“Y/N will you just listen?” Wanda takes your face in her hands, “Detka you’re the one I love.”

Vision walks up to you and Wanda, “I apologize for interrupting, but Vivian invited me out for coffee.”

“Vivian?” You ask.

“Yes. She is quite lovely. Thank you both so much for being my friends recently.” Vision finishes, “I hope I haven’t caused any strife. By the way you make such a lovely couple”

“T-thank you” you shake his hand as he walks over to a young girl.

Wanda looks to you, a little cocked eyebrow, “was my detka jealous?”

“Maybe.” You whisper. “It’s just that you’re so amazing and I’m so…bland”

“No you’re not.” Wanda giggles pulling you into a hug. “You are just right…for me.”

“So do you wanna have a Harry Potter marathon, my Slytherin?”

“With only you, my Hufflepuff” Wanda gives you a kiss on the nose.

You turn to go to class but Wanda stops you. She pulls you close and whispers in your ear, “I think we can afford to play hooky at least once in our lives.”

The two of you quickly run out of Avengers High. Tony simply smirks, being the only person to see the two of you leaving.

One day out on the town won’t kill your grades. But one life without Wanda would be unbearable.

Tags @natashaswife4125 @jacelion @lifespectator @aloneodi @xxxtwilightaxelxxx @iamnicodemus @russianredassassin @kathleenmikaelson @kingofthelizardpeople @supercorpdanbeau @scarletwitch-n7 @family-house-of-m

[amywritesthings]

silver underground. / chapter 18.*

( Read on AO3 )

Pairing: levi ackerman x f!reader (attack on titan / shingeki no kyojin) Word Count: 5.6k Summary: flashback eight - also known as your first time with levi ackerman Warnings: NSFW!! MINORS DNI - first time, oral (f!receiving), oral (m!receiving), fingering, body worship, pinning, dirty talk, praise kink, multiple orgasms, protected sex (wrap it before you tap it, friends), smut w/feelings

Previous Chapter. / Next Chapter. | Masterlist.

CHAPTER 18 - FLASHBACK: EIGHT*

He doesn’t stop kissing you.

Not when you both stand up in the empty supply room. Not when you stumble blindly into the hallway, cutting corners and trusting his guidance.

Two pairs of boots scramble as quietly as they can down a long, dark corridor, rushing to disappear from plain sight.

Gently Levi presses you into something sturdy and cold, lips still locked with yours. The captain's hands fumble from your waist to his pockets, digging to search for a key that will unlock his bedroom door.

All that remains in the silence are soft pants, controlled with the worry that someone — several someones —  can ruin this moment.

His kisses are open-mouthed and messy as he travels from your mouth, to your jaw, to your neck. You bend your head back with the utmost care, pressing your own lips together to avoid the noises of pleasure bubbling in your throat.

He presses a final peck at the center of your neck, as if to thank you for being so quiet once the key is freed from his pocket — and the door clicks.

Quickly Levi shoves the door open and circles his free arm around the small of your back, keeping you flush against his body. You comply, dancing through the threshold of his bedroom, and cradle his face into your palms to bring his lips back to yours.

Nothing has to be said.

Nothing has to be asked.

It’s just instinct — your feet drag backwards while his push forward into the bedroom, bringing you both safely out of the wandering eyes of the Survey Corps.

His boot swivels, causing you both to turn at his will. Your back hits a door once again, and you can’t help but laugh into the kiss. 

“Shhh,” he urges as he backs away to catch his breath. "Can you stay quiet for me?"

Click.

You grin the second the door locks behind you and whisper back. “Haven’t I always?”

His eyes open. Those brilliant gray eyes with specs of blue, intense and so focused; his pupils are blown — caught somewhere in the dark and the fierce arousal you both feel.

“Don’t get smart,” he tells you, but you know it’s about as much of a joke as he can make in the moment.

You don’t even realize until he dips his head that he’s worked on unbuttoning nearly half of your Scout uniform shirt, exposing your chest band and torso to the cool night air.

“Levi—”

His teeth nip at your collarbone. “Silent.”

The order does something to you — a vacant authority that comes with little punishment. He won’t stop unless he’s forced to or unless you ask, and there’s no circumstance in Hell where you would.

You press your lips together again, willing your eyes to stay open, to see Levi work his way to kiss every inch of your neck, your collarbone, your sternum.

You want him to cover every inch of you, leaving no patch of skin untouched. You want every part of your body to be his.

Dropping your hands from his face, you begin to push the small brown uniform skirt from your hips to drop to the floor. The fabric gives easily. It's the damn leather ODM straps that become your greatest enemy, refusing to release when you struggle with the fastens.

At first you think Levi doesn’t notice the struggle. He’s so busy running his hands along your sides, slipping the tips of his fingers past your button-down to finally touch skin.

But then his hands leave you.

You almost speak up to protest, but—

“Let me.”

He looks you in the eye for permission.

You stare back, wide-eyed and confused.

“What?”

“I said,” he slowly repeats, moving closer, “let me.”

Inch by inch, Levi disappears from your line of sight and down your chest, your stomach, until he’s eye-level with the elaborate belts looping your thighs.

Oh.

Your breath exhales in a sharp twist at the sight of his slender fingers running along the brown leather, feeling for where the buckle begins and the straps meet.

For a moment he stays right here, dragging his fingertips back and forth. 

Contemplating. Savoring.

Your face flushes when he leans in to press a ghostly kiss to the meat of your thigh between the straps. His pink lips are a stark contrast to the white fabric.

It's much too erotic to bear.

“I might fall,” you warn him softly.

“I’d catch you,” he promises right back.

You believe him.

(You’ll always believe him.)

Expertly he unravels the first group of leather straps, relieving your thighs of the pressure from such elaborate crossings. Levi makes it a point to drag the straps down your leg himself, not allowing the straps to hit the floor on their own to eliminate any potential noise.

Eager fingertips seek fast work on the other.

“Hold onto me if you feel unsteady,” he murmurs, briefly looking up to you as he starts on your right thigh.

Then you realize all too late — he has no intentions to return from his knees.

He's staying right there on the floor.

You know what he plans to do once he rids you of your trousers, and it shoots an otherworldly feeling to your lower belly.

“Levi?” you whisper sharply.

He doesn’t answer. Instead he works faster to remove the straps, tugging them down your leg to meet the left set.

“Levi—”

He only glances up once he's through with dismantling the strap belt. You press a hand to his when it moves towards the button of your ivory trousers, forcing him to stop.

“Something wrong?” he asks reluctantly, fingers still pinched against the button — subconsciously begging to get rid of his godforsaken clothing.

You swallow to coat your throat, looking down at him.

“No, it’s just… You don’t have to—”

Do that, you want to say.

Yet you pause as soon as Levi flashes a warning glare to you, like you’ve insulted him. 

“Three."

Your brows knit. “...what?”

He purposefully pops the buttons of your trousers to challenge your insecurity. 

“I once told you when we had our own place, I always said I’d give you three. This is about as good as we’ll ever get while we’re alive.”

You blink in a flurry but relent with the sway of your hips when his fingertips tap at your outer thigh: move.

Slowly but surely, your white trousers glide down your thighs, your knees, until they rest at the soles of your boots.

You kick one off then the other, never breaking eye contact.

“My fingers have been inside you more times than I can count,” he murmurs, kissing the bare skin of your thigh with a relaxed inhale through his nose, drinking in the scent of you. You press a hand against the doorframe for stability. “But I have to know what you taste like.”

The words shoot arousal like a bolt of lightning through your body.

“But you’ve already—”

“On my fingers, yeah, but not on my tongue,” he argues breathlessly, shaking his head. “Not the same.”

Another bolt, sliced straight to your core.

“Levi—”

“And once I memorize that,” he continues, not paying attention to you as he presses gentle yet urgent kisses to the east, closing in on your inner thigh. He coaxes your leg with the soft push of his free hand, spreading your thighs just for him. “And only once I memorize that, I’ll…”

He trails off, deciding against his words as he realizes that, when his back is straightened, he is eye-level at your underwear.

The black-haired man reaches for your hip, drawing a semicircle with his thumb at your hip bone.

Stalling — not for himself, but for you, in case there is a sliver of a doubt about this.

You answer by shifting your weight on your other leg, spreading your thighs further for him. The dark-haired man lets out an exhale like you’ve punched him square in the gut, gaze flickering to yours — message received.

Levi leans forward, nuzzling your inner thigh with his cheek. You tense, forcing yourself to watch his head turn inwards to kiss the softness. His eyes flutter close like he’s found his paradise, like the very venture of traveling up your thigh with every kiss gives him relief.

The tip of his tongue sensually flicks at the edge of your underwear, and your hand grips his hair with quick surprise. 

One tug and he’s smirking, open-mouthed and simply intoxicated, with hot breath gliding across the thin fabric.

He kisses the center of your mound over your underwear, and you both make a noise of want.

His tongue darts back out, catching the wetness that has dampened the fabric. In one fell swoop he yanks your underwear down, like one taste is enough to relinquish all doubt.

You barely remember your own name when he parts your folds with his thumbs and dives in like a starving man possessed, collecting the wetness against his nose as his tongue slides through your folds to find the one spot he knows will have you buckling at the knees.

For someone who has never done this before, Levi is thorough. He notes every which way you drag your nails through his hair, scratching at his scalp; how you make a small gasp if he hits a spot that jolts pure pleasure through your system; when your thighs tremble, so he does not relent.

You have to practically break your own vocal chords to avoid shouting when his tongue flicks your clit. Your hand tightens painfully in his hair, but he grunts and keeps going.

Levi swirls his tongue with a relentless determination. Like he’s been waiting for this moment, like he’s dreamed of tasting and teasing you — and you have to do everything in your power not to falter in your stance.

The frame of his bedroom door only has so much support.

Your head drops back against the wooden slab as he licks, sucks, and worships you while kneeling in front of you. His attention focuses on your clit, tongue flicking at an obscene rhythm. 

If you look down, you’ll come. 

If you watch him, you’ll fall.

So instead your jaw drops in a wordless plea, and he sucks against the sensitive nub in response. You hear the leather beneath you shuffle and his hands leave your core, running along your thighs, to hold your hips flush to the door.

He knows — know you’re getting there, from the way you’re squirming.

You didn’t even notice. You were too lost in the sensation.

Your eyes slide open, heavy-lidded and dark with lust, to see Levi lost in eating you out, his mouth buried against you, eyes closed in serene desire.

That’s all it takes.

“Levi—” you breathe, higher pitched than usual. “Levi, Levi, Le—”

You can’t finish the next syllable before your knees buckle, and he shoves you hard against the door to keep you steady — to make you ride this out on his tongue. The surface rattles only just a little from impact.

Your climax hits like a ton of bricks, and you force yourself to wordlessly cry out from the unbelievable pleasure coursing through your system.

His gray eyes glance up from your core, tongue still attacking your clit before he drags lower, catching your essence with his mouth.

Drinking you down to the very last drop.

When it becomes too much, you thrash a little against his hold.

He pulls away to catch his breath, lips slick and swollen from his work. He looks…

Satisfied. Eager.

“Holy shit,” you whisper, and he chuckles under his breath.

Slowly he gets off the floor, uniform creaking in the silence of the night. When you start to dip lower, to return the favor, he pushes you back into the door by the shoulder and shakes his head.

“I wasn’t done with you,” he says, voice a mere husk of itself.

You can smell the faint scent of yourself on his breath when he leans in, his hip pressing to yours. He’s hard as a rock.

“Levi,” you whimper when his hand returns to your inner thigh. “I wanna take care of you—”

“That can wait,” he interrupts, before placing his left hand over your mouth. Your eyes widen with confusion, but when his right hand disappears between your legs to collect more wetness, you understand why. 

You yelp into his palm when he circles your sensitive clit with his thumb.

“You can give me one more, can’t you?” he purrs in your ear, voice low. “I know you're sensitive, I know, but you can do it.”

Your eyes roll into the back of your head when his fingers glide through your wet folds to tease your entrance. Yet you open up to him like a flower, spreading your legs further to give him more room to work with. You feel his lips curl upward against your earlobe.

“C’mon, James.” 

A strangled, pathetic little whimper exits your mouth when his middle finger pushes into your, up to the knuckle, slowly massaging against your inner walls. 

“How’d you like it again? Two fingers? Three?”

You feel like you’ve died and gone to heaven with the filth coming out of his mouth. It isn’t even overtly lewd, but the sheer baritone of his voice in your ear is only making it that much easier to fight through the oversensitivity.

He adds his index finger and you whine.

“Right — you like two,” Levi remembers, “and you usually don’t last long if I—”

Your body goes limp, giving into his work when his fingers curl and tap the little spot that always gives him what he wants. He fingers you, shallow in his movements as he keeps curling the two, allowing the heel of his palm to rub against your aching clit.

“There she is,” he encourages. “There’s my girl.”

If you weren’t so turned on, you’d be mortified at how easily he works you to ruin.

“Does it feel good?”

You make a noise against his hand and nod eagerly, and he laughs gently in your ear. 

“Good.”

You let him play you like a well-loved instrument, his movements relentless and certain. The rhythm is one he’s perfected, and you know — you know he’ll get what he wants in a matter of minutes.

You’re already sensitive from the first orgasm. A second won’t take long.

He continues to murmur sweet nothings in your ear — praises laced with your first name, how much he loves watching you like this — and you know you’re no match for him.

Your walls clench around him and soon enough you tumble, dropping your forehead to his shoulder as you tremble through your second climax of the night. 

You feel weightless in the moment, a finite speck of dust in space, surrounded by the scent of your friend, your partner, your lover —

For a moment, the outside world doesn’t exist.

He finally removes his palm from your mouth to kiss you gently on the lips, and you’re awoken with the realization that you still taste yourself.

Your eyes open to find him watching you, making sure you’re okay.

You’re more than okay.

You let your body take over, wants over needs, and your hands push him roughly from you.

The captain stumbles in surprise. His gray eyes betray his shock, wide and confused, until he trips and falls back on the bed in the middle of the small room. The mattress gently creaks under his weight.

Before he can protest, you drop to your knees on the small rug at the edge of the bed.

“James—”

“Shut up,” you breathe, rising to grab his belt. 

Hastily, you rip it from the trouser loops. You're not as elegant at pulling off the leather straps as he is, but they come off all the same.

Levi sits up on the mattress, pushing wayward strands of hair from your face.

“James, wait, you don’t have to—”

“Ackerman.”

You stare up at him, only then realizing just how hard he is. He must hurt from the way the outline of his cock presses, strains, against the white fabric of his trousers.

“I’ve been dying to taste you, too, you know. And you’ve never let me before, so I'm asking now: let me.”

All of the air leaves his lungs, and a shell of Levi Ackerman remains above you.

His eyes are wide as saucers, trying to justify the sight of you on his knees in front of him.

He doesn’t stop you when you unbutton his uniform. He doesn’t move when you lean in to kiss the bare skin of his abdomen. 

“Shit. If you do this—” he starts, finding his breath, “—I’m sure as fuck not going to last.”

“Your confidence in me is guaranteed to inflate my ego,” you tease, pushing at his side. “C’mon. Lay back. Let me.”

Levi moves a fraction of muscle, but then he shakes his head. He lifts his hips, and to your delight he helps you remove his boxer briefs and trousers in one fell swoop. His cock springs free, achingly hard and twitching for attention.

“No,” he protests, “I want to watch.”

You brighten with delight, scooting closer. “Yeah?”

“Fuck yes,” he breathes. “Are you insane?”

You can’t help but giggle when your hand reaches to wrap around his length, careful not to hurt him. His knuckles turn white as he tightens his fists against his white sheets.

Truth be told, you’ve had your hands on Levi numerous times. You know what speed he likes. You know the pressure.

What you don’t know, however, is this: how to expertly get him off with your mouth, not in the way he so easily brought you to ruin.

Still, you stare up at him as you steady his cock and lick a stripe from bottom to top — flat against his shaft, traveling to the tip.

You’ve never seen Levi look so speechless by something so small.

“Oh, fu-uck,” he curses under his breath, a curtain of his hair hanging against his forehead as he forces himself to keep his eyes on your mouth.

His own goes slack, lips parted, and a flush peppers his pale cheeks.

It instill confidence, so you lick again, focusing your tongue on the tip of him. He tastes clean, like nothing really in particular, besides a tinge of saltiness.

But it isn’t until you close your mouth gently over the head of his cock that he loses himself. His bare thighs tremble as you work his length with your hand while your mouth gets used to a shallow bob, focusing primarily on his tip.

His voice disappears. His breaths are tighter and a little higher pitched than before. Cracked.

“Shit,” he croaks when you hollow your cheeks around him. “Fuck, James, shit—”

You feel powerful like this.

You get why he was so determined to put his mouth on you now.

You want to memorize this version of Levi Ackerman — so put together for the rest of the world, only to fall apart by every movement of your tongue.

“Stop.”

It’s barely a word, but you catch it within a few seconds.

You remove him from your mouth with a lewd pop, worried you might have used teeth or hurt him.

Levi has a hand on your shoulder to keep you from returning to his cock.

“I almost came,” he explains, embarrassed by his admission.

“What? But I didn’t—” You stop yourself, surprised. “I barely did anything.”

“Yeah, dipshit,” Levi under his breath, trying to catch it. “You think I need more than the image of your lips around my cock to do it for me?”

“Oh.” You wipe your lips, before smiling wickedly. “...I’m that good, huh?”

“Get the hell up here,” Levi demands, pulling you up from your armpits so he can toss you onto the mattress.

You laugh into the night air as he shifts, pressing his weight against you as he cradles his elbows around your head, caging you in.

Skin to skin.

The night's significance isn’t lost on you — lying in a king-sized bed, naked, with Levi Ackerman. To think you both used to squeeze on a twin mattress for the sake of falling asleep together. To think neither of you had ever witnessed each other’s bodies in full, clothes discarded all over the floor of his captain’s quarters.

He hovers over you, his hair framing his face in a darkened halo. You stare up at him, admiring the sweat pebbling across his forehead.

The faint glow of the moon is your only source of light; a familiar comfort.

For a few moments you both catch your breath, admiring one another like this. You want to ask. You’re sure he’s going to say no. It’s been the question on your minds for years, but now it’s—

“Do you want to?”

Levi asks first, but he doesn’t shy away from his own nervousness.

You take a moment to make sure he isn’t going to back out, before nodding.

“More than anything.”

An emotion flickers in his eyes as he regards you, before shifting your right thigh with his hand. You easily follow, widening your hips to him. He presses your inner leg to his hip, swallowing.

“I don’t…”

“What?”

Levi closes his eyes, exhaling his anxiety away. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

Your hands reach between your bodies to cradle his face, and he relents immediately to lean his cheek to your palm. “When have you ever hurt me?”

“A couple of times.”

“Fighting doesn’t count.”

“James,” Levi pleads, before opening his eyes. “I’m being serious.”

“So we learn together,” you argue back, raising your chin to kiss the tip of his nose. “And I’ll let you if it hurts, I promise. It’s not like you can rail me with everyone downstairs anyw—”

Levi stops you from your joke with a searing kiss to your lips, pushing your other thigh to the side so he can settle between your legs.

“Don't give me ideas, you little shit," he mumbles against your lips. "Maybe next time."

You smile, running your hands down his neck to rest on his shoulders. "Definitely next time."

For a few minutes, that's all you do. Kiss — kiss him, be kissed, relish and memorize.

The longer he kisses you, the more this becomes real.

Neither of you have ever done this, yet you’ve never felt more ready in your life.

Your body screams to have him, to finally know him, and you hope it’ll be enough — that you will be enough.

“Do you know what you’re doing?” you whisper, and he sits up on his calves for a moment.

“An idea, yeah,” he jokes, reaching into the nearby nightstand. 

You blink, surprised to see him return with a small square packet in hand. The moment almost completely takes you out of your nervousness.

When he notices the way you stare up at him, he cautiously adds: “Regiment issued. Didn’t think I’d ever need to use it, but…”

“Oh,” you breathe, unable to hide the shock. “No, it’s just—”

“They don’t want accidents in the Scouts.”

“Right.”

“And it’s not like people aren’t fucking.”

“I know.”

“Okay.”

“Okay.”

A beat passes. 

Unable to help yourself, you begin to smirk. “...so you only have one of those, or—?”

Levi rolls his eyes and breaks with you, letting out a huff of a laugh as he swats your knee wider. He rolls the protection down the length of him, careful in his application. 

“If you want to do this again, then I’ll steal a pack.”

“Wow, it really pays to have captain privileges,” you hum sagely, and he quickly crawls back over you to shut you up with a passionate kiss. You happily accept the eager press of his lips to distract you from the way he gently situates a pillow under your lower back, raising your hips to sit flush with his hips.

You both remain like this for a while, kissing your worries away, before something foreign presses up against your entrance. You gasp, breaking the kiss.

Levi stares down at you with kinetic lust.

“...are you sure about this, James?”

Are you?

It isn’t even a question. You've wanted this for years.

You shift your hips, nudging the tip of his cock at your entrance. He sucks in a sharp breath, calming his excitement.

“Never been so sure in my life,” you promise. “I want you.”

Levi pauses, nodding. “If it hurts at all—”

“I know.”

“—because we can stop at any time—”

“Levi Ackerman, please fuck me already.”

Six simple words make his pupils dilate.

His breath tickles your face when he exhales, lining himself up. Although one hand stays steady on his cock to guide himself into you, another reaches for your hand resting parallel to your head on the mattress. His fingers entwine with yours, squeezing with reassurance as he pins you down — I got you.

Then he pushes, and you both gasp in harmony at the sensation.

Slowly, inch by inch, Levi works himself deeper into you. It’s a stretch you’ve never felt in your entire life.

He distracts you once the tip of him is fully inside of you by circling your clit, making you choke on a breath. The pleasure burns, relaxing your body to take him deeper.

Then it happens all at once: he backs up, sliding deliciously against your walls, before pushing forward — bottoming out within you.

Levi’s entire body is so tense as he stills, waiting for you to get used to him. Maybe it’s for himself, too, but you stare up at the ceiling with an unbelievable feeling in your belly:

This is really happening. Levi’s really inside you.

“Are you okay?” he asks, strained.

You wait a moment to adjust, then nod.

“Can I move?”

You nod again, more adamant this time.

The hand holding yours shakes as he rocks his hips, pulling out then pushing back in. There is a noise that bubbles in the back of his throat, like this is the most painfully pleasurable experience of his life, and you use your free hand to drag your nails down his back.

Levi hisses, pushing back into you. “Fuck, you feel so good—”

He continues slowly, getting used to the sensation, the motion, the sounds, the scents.

Not once does he let go of your hand, and you squeeze in return.

You raise your knees to press against his hips, bringing him deeper, and he drops his forehead to your chest. 

He kisses the tiny silver pendant at your sternum.

“More,” you beg.

“Are you sure—”

“Please,” you interrupt.

He swallows to prepare himself and nods against your shoulder.

"Anything you want." He grunts when his hips thrust once more. "Anything, it's yours."

Levi starts to fuck you, the room reverberating with the sound of his efforts and the mixture of gentle moans. He gains more confidence the more noises you make against his temple. Your body arches into the movement as the pain dissipates purely into pleasure.

You hold onto him, wrapping your legs around his waist in a way that drives him insane. You can tell solely by the way he praises you in sharp huffs, lost in the moment. 

He raises his head to capture your lips in a messy kiss, thrusting into you like his life depends on it.

You hold on, moving against him as you try to remember to breathe.

"Fuck—"

He pulls away to catch his breath with a curse, eyes still closed.

“—I love you.”

You momentarily freeze as Levi keeps going, the muscles of his arms and back tensing every time his hips snap up and into you.

Your eyes snap open, watching his face screw together in the faint glow of the moon.

You know you didn’t imagine that.

You know he just said those words.

Every fiber of your body burns brighter, hotter, at three little words.

You hold him closer to yourself, moving against him as he thrusts, realizing at that very moment the three words you’d been searching to say your entire life to him.

To the boy you shared bread with in the tavern.

To the teen who stole your first kiss on your birthday.

To the man who makes love to you now after you both defied all odds and survived the harshest winters and the searing summers and everything in-between without giving up.

He is your best friend. He is your partner in crime. 

(He is the other half of your moon, your stars, your life.)

“I love you, too,” you breathe in return.

Levi’s thrusts instantly slow.

Reality crashes down while he opens his gray eyes, the little blue specs around his irises staring down at you with a wordless fear — he realizes, then, what he's said.

And he realizes, too, what you've said back.

That fear melts to pure, unadulterated relief.

You can’t help but smile up at him when he runs a shaking hand over your cheek with such gentleness that you almost want to cry.

“Yeah?” Levi asks.

“Yeah,” you answer. “I do.”

He smiles before snapping his hips against yours. You squeak, and he repositions himself to hit that little spot inside of you that he always seems to catch with his fingers. 

“I love you," he repeats, purposefully this time.

You arch when his fingers reach to circle your clit, unrelenting, as he almost makes you shriek from his efforts. 

"Levi—"

“Fuck, James, I love — I’ve always loved you.”

Levi doesn’t slow down this time.

He watches you squirm and whimper his name as he tells you, over and over, the same three words.

I love you.

I love you.

I love you.

It’s overwhelming. It’s paradise. 

You feel yourself tightening around his cock, and he groans. 

You won’t be able to last much longer, and you reckon he isn’t far behind either.

His hips stutter, groans getting a fraction louder and more urgent, as he coaxes you through your third and most devastating orgasm yet.

He feels the punishing force that your body clenches around him as you near your release and topples over to keep fucking you to the edge. His fingers maintain the same speed at your clit, a deadly combination, and a deep throb spreads through your entire body when your climax hits.

It's otherworldly. It's unlike anything you've ever experienced in your entire life.

Levi presses a devastating kiss to your lips to drink down the way you cry out his name — and to keep himself from moaning too loud when he finally comes right after you.

His hips stutter, trying to give you everything he has until you fall limp in his arms.

Then you catch him when he slumps, exhausted and spent.

The room is quiet.

The crickets chirp outside the open window.

(It's a singular, precious moment of peace.)

Levi continues to tremble against you, breathing through his nose as he climbs down from the euphoria of what just happened. You want to cry. You want to laugh. You want to hold him and never let go.

His shaking hand reaches for yours blindly, and you meet him in the middle.

One by one, your fingers lace.

After a few minutes, you realize that he's still shaking like a leaf. You kiss his forehead when he gently pulls out of you, only to collapse against your side on the mattress.

"You alright?" you whisper. "You're trembling."

"Yeah," he whispers back, voice light. "Just... give me a minute."

"Okay."

While lying on your sides, Levi moves to pull you against him, forehead to forehead.

You close your eyes, willing the tremors to disappear. Eventually they do, and he relaxes.

"Was that alright?" he murmurs after some time, fingers softly stroking your naked side.

"I've had better," you tease, and it makes him huff out a laugh.

"Yeah? Damn."

You can't help but grin, nuzzling your nose against his. "We're definitely going to need that pack."

"Several," he agrees.

"The whole Scout ration."

"The whole Scout ration?" he repeats with drowsy surprise. "Are you trying to make an honest man out of me?"

"Contraceptives don't make honest men," you reply. "Rings do."

"It kind of looks like of a ring—"

You gasp at his crude joke. "Levi."

Both of you burst into exhausted laughter, intoxicated by what's transpired. You feel high in this afterglow only the poets have ever rightly captured.

The laughter dies, leaving you both to enjoy the time you have left before morning comes.

He runs a ghostly trail down the small of your back with his fingertips. You toy with a lock of his sweat-matted dark hair.

And then,

"Maybe one day," he murmurs.

Your eyes flicker open to watch him rest peacefully beside you.

"Maybe one day what?"

"We can do the real damn thing." He's dozing off. "All the shit everyone else does."

You continue to stare, your expression softening.

"...Ackerman's not the worst last name to have," you tell him.

A tired smile grows on his lips.

He pulls you closer, and you curl around him.

Eventually the two of you fall asleep to the sound of twin beating hearts.

.

author note: oh we are so back. How are we feeling, Levi Nation? (What is their ship name? Jevi? Levames? Jamevi?) I am so grateful for your extremely generous patience, your support, and everything in-between. The reblogs/comments are the fuel that keeps this engine going.

deleted scenes of s.u. // levi's pov #1 :: levi's pov in chapter one during his first conversation with james in the trost hospital.

tag list: @lazylizzy3 @notgoodforlife @sad-darksoul @dailydoseof-love @maliakealoha @nube55 @kateastrophies @blinkingsuns @gomigami @voidszoro @tanyeonn @chishiyasan @im-just-a-simp-le-whore @nomi98 @urfavcelestialangel @milkersonmac @blossomedfloweroflove @carries-blenders-and-stuff @hurtcomfortwhore @ahxiaoshi @littlerequiem @raginginferno267 @sixpennydame @precious-ketchup @michaelaftussy34 @bananananab04 @littlerequiem @satorugojho3 @kawaiteacup

[himbofan]

haikyuu boys reacting to you hugging them for the first time

everyone likes to talk about first kisses, but i think first hugs are just as heartwarming. feeling the way the other persons body fits around yours and taking in their smell for the first time… :,) i just love pre-relationship pining 🤌🤌🤌 but no tsukki cause i’m working a bigger fic for him 😳

cw: fluff, gn!reader

prompt: running up to them after they win a game and hugging them for the first time

characters: bokuto, kuroo, tendou, asahi, atsumu, iwaizumi

bokuto kotaro

surprised at first, but the surprise quickly melts into a huge grin as he wraps his arms around you

his hugs are all encompassing, big arms trapping you to his chest so you can smell nothing but him

riding the high of adrenaline from the game, he decides to lift you in one of those spinny hugs

his heart is definitely racing, but he plays off the embarrassment by laughing and smiling like he always does

will definitely try to find excuses to hug all the time you now that he knows he can, and he will sulk if you refuse

akaashi gives you a thumbs up in the background

kuroo tetsurou

also surprised, but quickly recovers from it with a smooth comment “oh? did I really do that well today?” and returns the hug with a sincere smile

if it was a particularly stressful or intense match, he won’t say anything and just hold you tightly

gives those good good hugs where one hand is on the small of your back and the other is on the back of your head to keep you pinned to him

will take this as permission to touch you casually, like poking your arms or resting his arm on your head (if you’re shorter)

will pout if you don’t give him a hug after every game from now on

tendou satori

is very surprised, he’s used to being ostracized so having someone willingly show affection towards him is rare

it takes him a second to register that yes, you are hugging him of your own volition

i imagine tendou to be touch starved as hell, so he holds you like you’re the last thing on earth

will ask you for more hugs at random times not during games because he simply can’t get enough

i don’t have as much to say about miracle boy i just wanna give him a big hug 🥺

azumane asahi

congrats you broke him

no but really, his face is fully red and his expression is indescribable

constantly debating on where to put his hands, overthinking the smallest things like “oh no what if i’m too sweaty and they think i’m gross”

just look up at him and give him a big smile and his heart will melt

his hugs are gentle, warm and comforting; you feel protected from the outside world

he blushes when you make eye contact with him for the next few weeks

suga and daichi will definitely tease the hell out of him later

miya atsumu

he is a fiery guy, so he can get caught up with the flow of intense emotions, especially after a match

this means he actually goes to hug you first once he spots you

he hugs you like it’s second nature, there’s no surprise or hesitation

atsumu gives complete hugs that feel like your bodies are two matching puzzle pieces, there’s no awkward spaces or gaps

another passionate guy like bokuto, he will pick you up and spin you around with a giant smile

definitely starts using a ton of causal contact afterwards, hugs and headpats n stuff

iwaizumi hajime

is definitely surprised, he expected all of the attention to be on oikawa

his face is a little red, but the deep color of his ears betray all his embarrassment

this man is ripped so you know his arms are thick asf 😩 makes for the best hugs

another breathtaking hug-giver, his arms snake around your waist and circle firmly on your back

he buries his face in your neck to hide his embarrassment, but the adrenaline dulls and he suddenly remembers that he’s sweaty

pulls away quickly and apologizes with averted eyes, but oikawa is already taking pictures and giggling (cut to volleyball hitting him in the face)

he’ll definitely be a lil more blushy and conscious in your presence, but doesn’t mind if you ask him for a hug now and then

authors note: hello thank you for reading! i'm super critical of my own work so it takes a while for things to actually get posted lol thanks for sticking around

feel free to pop in my ask box with other characters you might wanna see for something like this :) ill try my best!! or if u wanna just say hi!

[danikamariewrites]

do you write for dark reader?

if so could i please request a slightly dark reader x slightly dark batboys, reader might be obsessive and wants them to herself so seeing their exes drives her crazy with rage. the thought of there being someone else who used to share a bed with them makes her mad. slowly all the people they used to see end up missing , they eventually catch her but aren’t afraid or mad. They finally stop hiding their dark side aswell.

They discovers she has one of the girls rhys dated a while back tied up in her basement and they are so happy bc she is showing them she cares and is possesive, yeah they’re all just nuts idk🙏😍

Missing

Poly!bat boys x dark!reader

A/n: I’m loving these dark!reader requests plz send me more guys

Warnings: kidnapping, mentions of torture, mentions of violence (plz lmk if I missed anything)

“Curious,” Azriel said under his breath as he ran his eyes over the cork board set up in Rhys’s office. The reports of missing females from around Velaris are tacked to the board. Each with notes underneath from Rhys. “There has to be something connecting them, right?” Cassian asked.

“The names look familiar,” Azriel looked over his shoulder at Rhys. “Cass, didn’t you briefly see Melody a decade ago?” Cassian stepped up to the board, staring at the name and notes. “And Rhys, you were with Dela before we were mated to y/n.”

Rhys stood, crossing the room to inspect the board as well. “These are all females we’ve dated.” Azriel connected the dots for them, their eyes went wide. Rhys’s mind was running wild with theories.

Cassian voiced what the three of them were thinking. “Do you think y/n has something to do with this?” Azriel and Rhys turned to him with a bewildered look. Appalled that he could suggest that. But Rhys couldn’t be angry at Cassian. Not when he was thinking the same thing.

Azriel was fuming. He grabbed Cassian by the collar of his leathers, slamming him into the wall, causing the room to shake. “Don’t you dare think for a second she could do anything like this.” Azriel growled at him. Cassian held up his hands in defense.

Rhys pulled Azriel off Cassian, “Az, I won’t lie to you, I’m having the same thoughts. You can’t deny she might know something.” Azriel took a deep, shaky breath. “I know,” he breathed out, “I just…you think she would do this? We have that side to us but her? I’m not sure.”

“I’ll talk to her.” Rhys would have to approach this carefully. He didn’t want you to shut down or push him away.

———

Later that afternoon Rhys found you in the garden sitting with the flowers. You looked so sweet. So perfect. He didn’t want to ruin this peace, but he’s High Lord and he has a duty to the citizens of his court. Rhys sits with you, putting a smile on his face.

When you look at Rhys your face lights up. You throw your arms around him, tackling him to the soft grass, both of you giggling. You rest your chin on his chiseled chest and bat your eyelashes at him. “Hi Rhysie. I thought you were working.”

Rhys rested a hand on your back tracing small circles as he smiled back at you. “I am baby, but I was hoping you could help us with something.” You tilt your head curiously at him. Your brows knit together in confusion. “Me?” Rhys sits up turning you to sit with your back to his chest.

That’s when you noticed the file in his hand. You were praying to the Mother that this wasn’t what you thought it was. You were trying to keep your heart rate under control so your mates wouldn’t feel it. When you saw the first paper with Melody’s name you wanted to freeze up. You kept your body as relaxed as possible. You can get through this, you kept telling yourself over and over again.

“The three of us knew these missing females.” Rhys was taking a gentle tone with you. You could tell he was worried you would get flighty or anxious. “That’s weird. I didn’t know females were going missing?” You might’ve over done it with the innocence in your tone, but Rhys, Cass, and Az would never know anything.

Not if you could help it.

So you pulled out your greatest weapon. Your fear. “Am I safe Rhys?” You were trembling. You couldn’t help it at this point. What would your mates think of you if they knew you were the one doing this.

Rhys’s eyes went wide. “Oh darling, of course you’re safe. You have the three of us. No one would ever get you.” He coos at you, holding your face in his hands. You wrapped your arms around his neck forcing out tears. You sat like that for a long time. Rhys eventually carried you inside, leaving you in the kitchen. With a quick kiss on your head he was headed back up to his office to finish up his work for the day.

When Rhys was out of ear shot you snapped back into your cold self. They we’re getting suspicious and you didn’t like that. You’d have to make this last one count then.

It’s not like you were going after all of their ex-girlfriends. Just the ones you knew they had briefly passed by in shops or at you guy’s favorite coffee shop. You could scent them. Knowing that those females touched your mates drove you insane.

They had their chance. And now they needed to stay very far away. You had ensured they did. But there was one last female you had to tend to.

You remember what you did to all of them. Their punishments fitting their crimes. One lost all her fingers simply for handing Azriel a napkin and letting her touching linger too long. Another lost her beauty for trying to seduce Cassian. Dela was the most fun. She lost her pretty singing voice she claimed Rhys loved soooo much.

They all ended up in the same place. Dead, never to be seen again.

You flung open the door that lead to the dungeons deep into the mountain the House of Wind sat on. Azriel hadn’t used this place in centuries. Nor did he watch over the secret passage way at the bottom of the house. You’d have to seal that permanently when you were done here.

As your footsteps echoed around the cavernous halls you heard Maurelle’s muffled screams. Another one of Cassian’s exes. Approaching the cell you stop outside the cell door. Maurelle starts screaming and tugging at the chains tying her to the wall. Her face was splotchy and covered in tears.

You unlocked the door smirking as you slowly made your way to her. “Sshhh,” Maurelle’s yelling faltered. You grabbed her jaw forcing her to look at you. She struggled against you but your could tell she was getting weaker.

“Unfortunately, our fun has been spoiled.” Your voice was quite laced with fake sympathy, “I haven’t decided how long I’m going to keep you though.” Maurelle started sobbing again, lolling her head back and forth in your grip.

“Awww. I know I’m upset too.” You pushed her head back into the stone. After she let out a cry you started walking away, slamming the cell door shut again, locking it. Not like she’d go anywhere. “I’ll be back later!” You shouted over your shoulder, heading back up to the house.”

———

Coming back up to the main house you scurried off the the library to bury your face into a book until dinner.

An hour later Azriel was pushing the door open of the upstairs library, his shadows swirling around him and daring ahead of him, as he looked around for you. “Y/n,” you put your book down and hurry over to Azriel before he could cross the threshold.

“Hi Azzy. I missed you today.” He smiled down at you, holding your chin between his fingers. “I missed you too princess.” Azriel leaned down to place a small kiss on your lips. He slipped his large hand in yours and pulled you out of the room. “Dinners ready so I thought I’d come get you.” “Thank the Mother, I’m starving.”

———

Dinner was going by far too slow for you. The clock on the mantle behind you seemed to be ticking extra loudly this evening. Your nerves had gotten worse. You felt yourself slipping. If you gave something away they’d get suspicious. And you were already uncharacteristically quiet tonight.

“Sweetheart, are you ok? You’ve barley said anything?” You jump a little looking at your mates. “Oh. I’m fine. Just thinking.” Cassian reaches across the table to hold your clammy hand. “Rhys told us you were nervous. It’s ok y/n. We’d never let anything happen to you.” He swiped his thumb across the palm of your hand and gave you a small smile.

“Thank you, Cass.” You squeezed his hand, returning his smile. When Cassian pulled his hand back he looked down at his plate, picking up his fork. You watched him blink down at his hand.

Cassian’s eyes narrow at his thumb as he brings it closer to his face to inspect it. “Dried blood?” Shit. You didn’t wash your hands when you came up from the dungeons.

Cassian sniffed, but your could tell he didn’t recognize the scent. He held his hand out for Rhys and realization dawned on his face when he recognized the scent. All three of them were now looking at you. “Darling, is there something you want to tell us?”

Rhys had the feline grin plastered on his lips. Your heart was beating so fast you were certain they could feel it. Suddenly you felt waves of reassurance down the bond. “You’re not mad?” They all shook their heads. “Just tell us what’s happened, y/n. I promise everything will be fine.”

“Are you going to break the bond? Am I going to jail?” You ask quickly, eyeing them in case they moved to grab you. They each let out a deep chuckle. “No darling. We would never dream of that.”

You slowly stand from the table motioning for them to follow you. As you lead them to the dungeon you explained everything. Your jealous tendencies. The rage you felt scenting another female on them when they’d come home from the city. How you just wanted to rip your hair out at the thought of another female with them in any way.

Entering the dungeon Azriel stopped you. “You did all of this for us.” You nod. “You’re so cute princess.” You were confused. And it clearly showed on your face. “What, did you think we didn’t hunt down your ex-boyfriend’s?” Cassian asked with a deadly smirk.

A devilish smile broke out on your own lips. “We couldn’t let those males think they’d have another chance with you now could we?” You shook your head in agreement. Good, you were all on the same page.

Rhys brought a hand up to cup your cheek. “Now who do we have down here darling?” You grabbed his hand, guiding them towards the cell at the very end. “Maurelle.” Your voice chipper with your nerves gone. “I could scent her perfume on you last week. It was an unwanted hug I assume?” “Of course it was darling.”

You hummed in approval at being right. Oh you were going to have so much fun with them as you ended Maurelle.

[https-florals]

jj maybank is a munch and i will not be taking any arguments. 18+!!!

a/n: this is just a little blurby blurb!!! (the product of scrolling through the new touch tank trend on tiktok and being in desperate need of good head) my requests are still very much open please i will not write if i don’t have inspiration

he definitely has a little bit of a reputation in kildare for knowing how to eat it. when the two of you start dating, he can’t keep his hands off you. he’s constantly making jokes about you sitting on his face, or how sweet you’d taste. you’re a little scared, honestly. all your past boyfriends treated giving head like a chore. you’re more comfortable giving than recieving, but jj won’t let you go down on him. he’s adamant about the “ladies first” principle.

you finally decide to let him after a dinner date, you’re all dolled up in a pale yellow sundress and a light sunburn coloring your shoulders and nose bridge. jj always thinks you look like a goddess, but something about a fresh sunburn and the way your hair falls after it air-dries drives him insane. the whole ride home you’re talking about how you’re ready to just get home and relax, and being the gentleman he is, he’s fully prepared to beg to climb in the shower with you so he can wash your hair (his other favorite pastime).

jj limits himself to one joke as the two of you walk through the door, saying “really craving a little snack right about now, baby.” you think he’s gonna ask to run by the gas station, which puts a little dent in your plans, but he runs right with your little thought out scenario when he follows up with “you’re looking extra sweet tonight.”

he’s all smiles as he wraps his arm around your waist, wiggling his eyebrows in attempts to make you laugh. jj is a little concerned when you’re silent, pulling him into the bedroom and shutting the door without even giggling. you sit on the bed and begin to take your heels off, and the blonde boy just stands and watched you. he’s so very lost. a couple of minutes ago you were happy as a clam, all over him at the restaurant and in the car.

“come here,” you ask, so soft and timid.

“yeah, honey?” he swallows, cause the way you’re looking at him is giving him butterflies. your lips are a little parted, eyes wide as you look up at him. when he gets close to you, you tug on the bottom of his shirt. jj leans down so he’s eye-level with you, and then all it takes is a quick push to his shoulders, and you have him on his knees.

you’re blushing so hard, but you stand, albeit a little shakingly. you didn’t have a plan to stand up, in fact you’re pretty sure you’re gonna be on your back in a few seconds, but there’s something so nice about jj kneeling in front of you. your hand slides through his hair, tilting his head back with a slight pull to the hair at the nape of his neck. your other hand rests on his jawline. his hands come up to the back of your thighs, thumbs rubbing gentle circles. “i’m not wearing panties,” you kinda hiccup out. the phrase isn’t as sexy and seductive as you had hoped it be, because you’re nervous and tingly and giggly.

but you think it works, because jj’s eyes light up like you’ve just told him he won the lottery. his hands move to your ass and he buries his face right where your thighs begin to touch. you squirm a little, but he doesn’t let you move. you can feel his breath through the thin fabric of your dress, hit and heavy and inhaling like you’re a respirator or something.

“what are you doing!” you’re scared you smell funky, even though before dinner you took a very thorough everything shower.

he shushes you, and pulls back with a groan. “let me just take a sec,” he mumbles. “been praying for this.”

it takes maybe fifteen seconds for the two of you to be on the bed, jj on his back with you straddling his chest. your dress is off, and you’re totally bare over him. this is a whole new kind of vulnerability, all your insecurities on plain display. you’re thinking about your stomach, or how your tits sit naturally.

in turn, there’s not a thought going through jj’s head except for “girlfriend!!” he pulls you up a little closer, so he can lay a chaste little kiss on your skin. you flex your thighs so you’re hovering over him, but you’re already shaking when his tongue lightly skims over you, and you don’t know how you’re gonna hold yourself up.

he murmurs something you can’t quite hear, and then he’s yanking you down on his tongue.

“jj!”

“shit, darlin’, just sit down and hold still!”

“i’m gonna suffocate you!”

“i’ll tap out if i’m about to die.” he reaches his head up a bit to smile at you, all punch drunk like a kid in a candy shop. “but damn, that would be a way to go, huh?”