#and they are very comforting to fidget with

[luna-azzurra]

Body Language Cheat Sheet For Writers 

╰ Facial expressions

These are your micro-signals, like the blinking neon signs of the soul. But they’re small, quick, and often lie harder than words.

Raised eyebrows — This can mean surprise or disbelief, sure. But it can also be a full-on, silent “Are you serious right now?” when someone’s being ridiculous. Or even curiosity when someone’s too emotionally repressed to askthe damn question.

Furrowed brow — That face people make when they’re doing long division in their head or trying to emotionally process a compliment. It’s thinking, yes—but also confusion, deep frustration, or quiet simmering rage.

Smiling — Can be happiness… or total fake-it-till-you-make-it energy. Some smiles are stiff. Some don’t reach the eyes. Show that.

Frowning — Sure, sadness. But also: disappointment, judgment, or the universal “I’m about to say something blunt, brace yourself.”

Lip biting — It’s not just nervousness, it’s pressure. Self-control. Anticipation. It’s the thing people do when they want to say something and decide, at the last second, not to.

╰ Eye movement

The window to the soul? Yeah. But also the window to when someone’s lying, flirting, or deeply trying not to cry in public.

Eye contact — Confidence or challenge. Eye contact can be gentle, curious, sharp like a blade. Sometimes it’s desperate: “Please understand me.”

Avoiding eye contact — Not always guilt. Sometimes it’s protectiveness. Sometimes it’s “I’m afraid if I look at you, you’ll see everything I’m trying to hide.”

Narrowed eyes — Calculating. Suspicious. The look someone gives when their brain’s saying “hmmm...” and it’s not a good hmm.

Wide eyes — Surprise, yes. But also sudden fear. The oh-God-it’s-happening look. Or when someone just found out they’re not as in control as they thought.

Eye roll — Classic. But try using it with tension, like when someone’s annoyed and trying very hard not to lose it in public.

╰ Gestures

This is where characters’ emotions go when their mouths are lying.

Crossing arms — Not just defensive. Sometimes it’s comfort. A self-hug. A barrier when the conversation is getting too personal.

Fidgeting — This is nervous energy with nowhere to go. Watch fingers tapping, rings spinning, sleeves tugged. It says: I’m not okay, but I’m trying not to show it.

Pointing — It’s a stab in the air. Aggressive, usually. But sometimes a desperate plea: Look. Understand this.

Open palms — Vulnerability. Honesty. Or a gesture that says, “I have nothing left to hide.”

Hand on chin — Not just thinking. It’s stalling. It’s delaying. It’s “I’m about to say something that might get me in trouble.”

╰ Posture and movement

These are your vibes. How someone occupies space says everything.

Slumped shoulders — Exhaustion. Defeat. Or someone trying to take up less space because they feel small.

Upright posture — Not always confidence. Sometimes it’s forced. Sometimes it’s a character trying really, really hard to look like they’re fine.

Pacing — Inner chaos externalized. Thinking so loudly it needs movement. Waiting for something. Running from your own thoughts.

Tapping foot — Tension. Irritation. Sometimes a buildup to an explosion.

Leaning in — Intimacy. Interest. Or subtle manipulation. (You matter to me. I’m listening. Let’s get closer.)

╰ Touch

This is intimacy in all its forms, comforting, protective, romantic, or invasive.

Hugging — Doesn’t always mean closeness. Could be a goodbye. Could be an apology they can’t say out loud. Could be awkward as hell.

Handshake — Stiff or crushing or slippery. How someone shakes hands says more than their words do.

Back patting — Casual warmth. Bro culture. Awkward emotional support when someone doesn’t know how to comfort but wants to try.

Clenched fists — Holding something in. Rage, tears, restraint. Fists mean tension that needs somewhere to go.

Hair tuck — Sure, flirtation or nerves. But also a subtle shield. A way to hide. A habit from childhood when someone didn’t want to be seen.

╰ Mirroring:

If two characters start syncing their body language, something is happening. Empathy. Chemistry. Shared grief. If someone shifts their body when the other does? Take notice. Other human bits that say everything without words...

Nodding — Not just yes. Could be an “I hear you,” even if they don’t agree. Could be the “keep going” nod. Could be patronizing if done too slow.

Crossed legs — Chill. Casual. Or closed-off, depending on context. Especially if their arms are crossed too.

Finger tapping — Time is ticking. Brain is pacing. Something’s coming.

Hand to chest — Sincerity, yes. But also shock. Or grounding—a subconscious attempt to stay present when everything feels like too much.

Tilting the head — Curiosity. Playfulness. Or someone listening so hard they forget to hide it.

Temple rub — “I can’t deal.” Could be physical pain. Could be stress. Could be emotional overload in disguise.

Chin stroking — Your classic “I’m judging you politely.” Often used in arguments between characters pretending to be calm.

Hands behind the back — Authority. Control. Or rigid fear masked as control.

Leaning body — This is the body betraying the brain. A tilt toward someone means they care—even if their words are cold.

Nail biting — Classic anxiety. But also habit. Something learned. Sometimes people bite because that’s how they self-soothe.

Squinting — Focusing. Doubting. Suspicion without confrontation.

Shifting weight — Uncomfortable. Unsure. Someone who wants to leave but doesn’t.

Covering the mouth — Guilt. Hesitation. The “should I say this?” moment before something big drops.

Body language is more honest than dialogue. If you really want to show your character’s internal world, don’t just give them lines. Give them a hand that won’t stop shaking. Give them a foot that won’t stop bouncing. Give them a mouth that smiles when their eyes don’t. And if you’re not sure what your character would do in a moment of fear, or love, or heartbreak, try acting it out yourself. Seriously. Get weird. Feel what your body does. Then write that down.

[fresidoll]

★ TANGLED IN LOVE, STUCK BY YOU FROM THE GLUE. tsukishima kei

.ᐟ Content summary: Boyfriend Tsukishima headcanons.

.ᐟ Includes: Tsukishima x fem!reader

.ᐟ Word count: 1.4 k

.ᐟ Content warnings: none, just fluff, sfw, kinda realistic?)

.ᐟ A/N: i’m never understanding why people see Tsukishima as someone completely mean, without feelings and horny all the time. The title of this are lyrics of this song of beabadoobee btw.

☆ His glasses have small stickers you put on them, sometimes they are in the lenses in a place where they don’t block his vision of course, or sometimes they are in the temples part of the glasses. Tsukishima never takes the stickers off, he lets them fall on their own and when this happens he always casually lets you know so you put on new ones. He doesn’t mind at all if the stickers are glittery, or pink, with strawberries or something girly, he doesn’t care as long as those stickers are chosen by you for him to wear everyday until they fall off.

☆ He learned origami out of boredom with youtube tutorials and learned to do several animal figures that he threw away after making them, usually he makes origami when he needs something to fidget with when he’s watching a tv show or a youtube video so the figures don’t matter. But then, he learned to make origami flowers and instead of throwing them away, he started to give them to you. The first ones he gave you were made in plain white paper and then he bought a pack of paper in different colors so the flowers would look more real. He usually hands you the origami flowers without comment and tries to be nonchalant as if it wasn’t a big deal but it’s obvious he gets flustered when you smile and tell him how pretty the paper flower is, he would grumble about how it isn’t a big deal and they are tedious to make, and yet you’ll receive another flower from him not too long after that.

☆ Tsukishima is not someone who likes PDA, so he won't be kissing you and hugging you in front of other people or in very public places, but that doesn’t mean he isn’t affectionate. In public he shows you his affection in small touches like holding your hand, staying close to your side, letting you cling to his arm and when he has to leave your side he’ll discreetly kiss your temple or your cheek. In private he would be a little more touchy but not too much because he’s shy, okay? In private he would be more comfortable in placing his arm around your shoulders or around your waist, he’ll rest his chin on the top of your head while hugging you and he’ll even peck your lips sometimes.

☆ The dates Tsukishima likes the most are picnics in the park, museum visits, going to the movies and having a movie night at his place. He likes the kind of dates that don’t require a lot of planning and are more spontaneous and in which you can be comfortable so you both enjoy each other's company, if you like dates like dinners and all that, he wouldn’t dislike them at all but the kind of dates that are more chill are his favorite ones.

☆ One of his favorite activities to do with you, is building lego sets. They don’t even have to be those expensive official lego sets, the cheap ones that are figures of anime characters or sanrio characters work perfectly fine by him. Usually you take turns in buying the sets either online or in a store, you always get one or two for each of the characters or things you like. Usually, the day of your lego date it’s in the weekend when neither of you are busy; you order food and get some snacks to eat, while building you talk and watch a show or youtube videos. Tsukishima actually loves to be doing something he enjoys to do with the company of someone he cares a lot for.

☆ He gets nervous and hyped everytime you go to his games.Your presence gives him a boost to do his best in the matches to show you how much potential he has, but at the same time he gets nervous of you being there in the public because he doesn’t want to make a fool out of himself in front of you. It makes him flustered everytime he hears you cheering for him, the tips of his ears get red and he tries to ignore the funny looks the rest of the team gives him or else, his face goes completely red. Even so, he actually smiles big and feels a little giddy when you hug him after a match, and tell him how amazing he looked and how well he did it.

☆ If you’re part of the team, he tries to focus on the match but at the same time keeps an eye on you and it’s quick to let you know what you should be improving during the game so the team can win. Of course, he doesn’t tell you what you should be doing better in a bad way, he just wants the team to win and wants you to exploit your abilities in the best way possible so if you don’t win, you won’t blame yourself. After the game, he will hug you and tell you you did a good job, he will tease you by faking to be arrogant when you compliment his performance but he will actually feel happy that you think he did good, it makes him feel good with himself to know that he was useful to the team.

☆ He's not the jealous type, but he is wary of other guys getting too close to you. He doesn’t like it when guys get too touchy or too close to you, it makes him uncomfortable and kind of self-conscious. He knows he isn’t the most nice people out there, or the best good-looking, he knows his personality it’s one of his biggest flaws and he’s afraid that you might realize all of this things and leave him for some guy that it’s better than him, that’s why he gets tense when other guys tries to flirt with you or gets too close. He has never tell you this because he thinks it’s embarrassing and dumb, and he can only hope that you don’t realize all his flaws, or that at least, you don’t mind them.

☆ He got matching bracelets for you. Tsukishima is not someone that likes matching clothes so he went with something basic like matching jewelry for both of you, but it made it meaningful so it wasn’t just an ordinary thing. He got two affordable bracelets first in the same color, then he bought two pendants that matched for the bracelets that would resemble you and him respectively, he went with pendants with the first letter of your names with a little fantasy diamond encrusted. When you were given the bracelet, you never took it off and neither didn’t he. It was an obvious but subtle way of letting everyone know that you two were together and that you belonged to each other, that was why Tsukishima bought the bracelets, he loves to see you wearing his initial and also loves the fact that everyone can see you are with him and only him.

☆ One of the songs that completely describes what Tsukishima feels for you it’s Glue Song by beabadoobee. The first time he heard the song, was kind of accidental but as soon as he heard the lyrics and searched for it’s meaning, he found a meaning to all of that he felt for you inside his heart. He can not describe all of what he feels for you or how important you are to him, but as the song says, he found himself being attached to you in a very unexpected way and soon enough, you became one of the most special people for him, it’s something he has never felt before. He can’t bring himself to be away from you, or to let you go, he just can’t even imagine it without feeling a heavy stung on his chest, so he is planning on spending his whole life with you, he knows it’s soon to be taking a long term decision like that one but he is sure that he wants to put a ring on your finger and spend his whole life next to you. You are just like glue and are stuck with each other, and if you ever consider to split up, Tsukishima would try his best to glue you two back together.

[a-ikus]

w/c: 1.1k warning/s: repost apologies, at home piercing (very unsafe do not ever pierce ur own tongue for the love of god)

"hold still."

"schorry."

"that means don't speak, idiot."

you roll your eyes in response, pointedly staring at your best friend after you do. his own tongue bar clacking against his teeth when he bites his tongue, concentrating on yours, stuck out over your lips for him to inspect. dyed black hair was all you could see as he dipped, twisted, turned and tilted his head, latex all you could taste as he lifted your tongue with a gloved hand, adjusting the muscle as necessary.

"stick it out as far as you can." you follow touya's instructions, adjusting yourself in the bathroom sink, touya subconsciously stepping further between them when your thighs slip apart, his eyes still focused on your mouth as he stares, his eyebrows drawing further down his face.

you lick your lips as soon as he turns away, attempting to ease the discomfort of your dried lips and pooling saliva from holding your tongue out for so long. touya flashes you a playfully disapproving glance, reaching for the pile of tools sat beside you on the porcelain sink.

"think you can do it?" you study your face like he'd studied your tongue, mapping every freckle, mole, vein, scar and piercing marring the face of the little boy you'd met, you love him like this, you think. so perfectly touya. just as much your touya as he'd been as a hot-headed tween, dragging you by your hand into his room to show off action figures, just as much your touya as he was at sixteen, after his first piercing (well, technically first two, he'd gotten both nostrils at once), when he'd snuck into your room after his mother had seen the gems flash the moment he walked through the door, promising he'd go back home if you watched a new horror movie with him.

"'course i can, gorgeous," you begin to fidget, growing more and more nervous the more he toyed with the tools, gathering what he needed; preparing iodine, lubricant, the needle, the taper and of course the titanium bar. picking up a tissue and something else you can't see, he turns to face you again, inching closer once more, his hips nearly bumping your own on the sink, "that's the point of being a bad influence, isn't it?"

grinning, he pokes his tongue out, metal flashing under low lights, making you hyper aware once more of what you're tucked in your bathroom to do, "alright, out all the way again."

"is that the needle?" you think your voice shakes, staring at the tool he grasped in his left hand with wide eyes, a quiet, wobbly tone like a scared child.

"marker, baby doll, gotta make sure i pierce your pretty tongue nice and straight." touya's smile is crooked, a tiny flash of pearly teeth behind pierced, pink lips.

"oh, okay." still with a wobble in your speech when you begin to fiddle with your fingers, trying to focus instead on the multitude of misshapen chips in your nail polish, trying to decide what colour you might paint them next, wondering if touya will match you with a navy blue, or if the matching tongue bars will be enough.

"i can get you a towel to squeeze? if you're scared?" his voice is low, hushed as he pats your tongue dry, glancing up to your doe eyes as you shake your head, attempting to say you were okay with your tongue out. touya had countless piercings, certain there's more than you can see right now, countless times he'd gone through this process; sanitising, marking, piercing, and not once can you imagine him squeezing something soft in his hands for comfort, digging blunt, painted nails into a plush, imagining a curious face instead, sharp eyes following the needle as you avoided it, maybe crunching his eyes closed in a wince at the very last moment, when the sharp, unforgiving needle tip forced its way through squishy flesh.

"you sure?" he taps the pen on your thoroughly dried tongue, a tiny purple dot staining the centre of your tongue, the fine marker tip making you jump, overly sensitive with adrenaline pulsing through your body, waiting to nod until after he placed the pen aside.

"if you say so, baby doll." you feel the smooth latex of the glove on your tongue again, adjusting his hold on the tip of your tongue to hold the twitching muscle still, looking up to your eyes once more, noticing how you squeezed them shut the moment his muscles twitched to reach beside you for the sterile needle.

"ready?"

"uhuh."

"breathe in." your hands twitch in your lap as you suck in a deep breath, holding it in your chest even as he chastises you for it, muttering a quiet, gentle, "you have to breathe out, too, idiot."

your hands fly to his hips the second the needle touches your tongue, not even quite piercing it yet, gripping him like your life depended on it, a soft whimper echoing from the back of your throat as the needle came out through the underside, your exhale shaky as you clutch touya's hips tighter, your body tense as he whispers soft encouragements for you to keep breathing, "go nice and slow, gorgeous, like that."

you listen as best you can, focusing on the sensation of the denim underneath your fingertips, how it feels to drag your nails over the material, how your lungs inflate and deflate, how touya's voice sounds in the shell of your ear as he comforts you, praising your stillness as he places the bar at the end of the taper.

"i'm gonna put the bar in now, baby, you ready?" you don't nod, not risking moving, instead shifting your fingers to slide under the hem of his shirt, gently tapping thrice on his hot skin, y-e-s, before tucking your fingers securely into his hemline, holding him as tightly as you could when he instructs you to breathe again, "in, 1-2-3, out. did so perfect, baby."

touya doesn't move, doesn't step out of your gravity, out of your hold on him, back three steps into safety from whatever was blooming between you the longer you held him between your thighs with saliva gathering on your swollen tongue, a minuscule amount of tears gathering in your waterline with your wobbly exhale. you make no move either, keeping your hands tucked into the hem of his faded jeans, your tongue out and your eyes closed, cracking one open only when he rests his hands on your thighs, "you will not live it down if you drool on me."

closing your mouth, you giggle before wincing, resting your head on his chest as you whined out at him, "ow, touya, don't make me laugh."

[blade-dyd]

i want you to touch me there

thinking about blade (again). gn! reader, sfw.

i hc that he runs on the colder side due to his constitution. he's a walking corpse, almost. to live then to die, only to live again. it must do horrific things to his body. his heartbeat is almost non-existent, and his circulation is poor. blade's skin is pale. limbs and fingers arthritic.

so i like to think that he enjoys physical contact. the way your body heat seeps into his being whenever you embrace, gracing him with gentle touches and tender lips, has his heart thrumming with a strange feeling.

it's foreign– but not unwelcome. not at all. icy and bandaged hands itch with the need to grasp onto your warmth. to soak and bask in your comfort.

and so he does, lest the feeling slip through his fingers. on better days when he allows himself the luxury of cuddling with you, blade splays a palm over the small of your back. usually he just keeps it there, barely ghosting the area. other times he drags it up and down in languid motions.

it seems today is one of those days.

as much as he likes to deny and reject the (very plausible) idea, it feels... nice, when you wrap your arms around him as if he were anything but the cold, unfeeling husk that he's convinced himself he is. your body slots into his almost perfectly. the feeling is soothing, a balm to his fractured soul. if he weren't so numb, perhaps he'd let slip a few tears.

but the mara– oh, the mara– whispers depraved, ugly things whenever he dares to indulge in your kindness. your love.

crush them, it murmurs. sever their spine. drown not in the heat of their skin, but the warmth of their blood instead. let it drip– flow. it's easy... so easy to mangle one such as themselves. one so soft.

blade can't. he doesn't want to. his fingers clasp onto you tighter, twitching. once, twice. easing up. jerking again. repeat.

the man breathes, deep and shaky.

you feel the sudden sensations and slowly lift your head from under his chin. a question forms on your tongue, but blade's hand coaxes the back of your head down into his neck once more before you could even look at him.

the mara sneers, mocking. do it. you crave it... don't you? you do.

blade does not.

instead, the quivering hand on your head travels down and flattens to rest on the curve of your spine. the other joins and soon you find yourself in his heavy, but gentle, hold. you feel locked there, secured, but you know that he'd let you go if you wanted him to.

you never do.

his fingers continue to jolt every now and then, you notice, but you don't bring it up. you know what this all means. in an attempt to placate him, you plant a small, lingering kiss to his jugular.

blade sighs. it’s a soft sound, and it hurts to hear the shudder laced in it. you grant him another.

it's clear that he knows you've caught onto his fidgeting. it's also clear that he doesn't want to talk about it, hence him hiding you beneath his jaw.

but that's okay. another time, perhaps.

sturdy arms wrap around you just a little tighter and you shift to cover him in more of your body, chests nestled impossibly closer. comfortable. blade noses at your hair gingerly at the action.

"rest", is what he means to tell you, but he fears that nothing but vitriol will spill from his lips if he dares to utter just that one request.

so, blade settles for silence. he breathes once more– in, out, and repeat. steady and deliberate. you mimic his actions subconsciously, bodies pressed together and breaths in sync.

it's grounding, blade thinks. he wants to cry.

the mara recedes. closing his eyes, the man loses himself in your familiar comfort and the sync of your heartbeats.

[marauder-misprint]

'More than a ring'

Sirius Black x fem!Slytherin!reader

series masterlist

2.5k words

cw: fluff, y/n

Dorcas watched you with an amused expression as you adjusted your shirt in the mirror for the tenth time since putting it on.

“You’re sure it looks alright?” you asked with a slight frown.

“You look lovely as ever. Come on, we have a party waiting for us!” 

“Alright,” you sighed. “Let’s go.”

You fidget nervously the entire walk to Gryffindor Tower. Pandora had waved to you as you left the common room; she knew where the two of you were off to. None of the other Slytherins paid you any mind. Outside of the Slytherin Dungeon, few students took notice of you. By this point, you and Dorcas were well known for being Slytherins dating Gryffindors. Dorcas gave you one last glance before giving the Fat Lady the password.

“It’s going to be fine. You’re going to be fine.”

“If you say so,” you said with a shaky breath.

The portrait swung open and the sound of music filled the corridor. Dorcas stepped in first, pulling you along. She led you across the room with familiarity. She knew exactly where the drink table would be and people seemed to move out of her way. She was known in the tower. You were someone new. 

“Here. Goodness, be less stiff! Loosen up!” Dorcas laughed after shoving a drink in your hands.

In your defense, you were looking around the common room, taking it all in. But you smiled the moment you heard his voice. And yes, you heard him before you saw him.

“Y/N!” 

You turned in time for Sirius to see your drink before he wrapped his arms around you. 

“See Meadowes is taking good care of you, very good. Come on, we’re over here.”

Sirius didn’t remove him arm from around your waist and led you and Dorcas to a corner of the room. James, Peter, Remus, Marlene, Mary and Lily were all lounging in various positions. Remus and Marlene had claimed the armchairs and James was sitting in a wooden chair, next to an empty one that you assumed Sirius was in. But he sat on the ground and patted the area next to him. Mary saw that as an invitation for her to take the open chair. 

“If you’re on the ground now…” she said with a sly smile. 

You tried to pay attention to the group’s conversation, but you ended up only half listening. You were still taking in the common room itself, let alone the party. The furniture was mostly maroon colored and looked like they hadn’t been replaced or reupholstered in many years. Slytherin’s green and black furniture always looked new. The fire felt warmer here. The room was bathed in warm light, no green hues in sight. It was very Gryffidnor, which you supposed made sense. The wallpaper was probably the only thing you’d change about the room. It was heinous. 

“Y/N, you okay?” Sirius asked in a low voice. 

You came out of your trance and took a sip of your drink.

“Yeah, fine. Just taking it all in.”

“Comparing it to the dungeons?” 

“Little bit. The differences make sense… Except for this goddamn wallpaper.”

Sirius laughed, drawing the eyes of the group. 

“It grows on you.”

You hummed disbelievingly. “Maybe like black mold.”

Peter, who was sitting on your other side, laughed louder than Sirius had. It felt good to make someone else in the group laugh. That meant you were fitting with Sirius’ friends, which was a bigger deal to you than you’d ever admit. Marlene slowly restarted the group’s conversation despite them all wanting to know what was like black mold. You remained quiet, sipping on your drink. 

You participated in the conversation when the topic shifted to something you felt comfortable commenting on. Professor Slughorn assigning the longest essay ever? You could complain with them. James going on a rant about why the quidditch team needs morning practice? You zoned out harder than you had when you were observing the room. 

Different people in the group offered to grab refills whenever they went for themselves and you stopped keeping count of how many drinks you’ve had. It was getting easier to lean into Sirius. The room felt less intimidating. You sighed contentedly as you laid on the ground with your head in Sirius’ lap. You held his hand above your face, playing with the rings on his fingers as the conversations around you just sounded like buzzing in your ears. 

“Having fun?” Sirius asked, smiling down at you and letting his hair fall around his face like a curtain. 

You hummed in response. Then you asked, “What did you get on Christmas?”

“Like from the Potters? From the boys?” 

“No, no,” you said, unaware of how slurred your voice was. “The party. You were there because you got something. You still haven’t told me.”

Sirius raised his eyebrows.

“And you haven’t been on a broom.”

“Hmmm, that’s not happenin’. But Christmas. Tell me.”

If you didn’t look so cute right now, Sirius might’ve held out and not told you. If he didn’t have a few drinks in his system, he might’ve resisted. If he noticed that the rest of the group had stopped talking because your voice caught their attention, he might’ve laughed it off and said he’d tell you later. But he didn’t. So he told you.

He took the ring his uncle gave him off of his finger – the one that matched your green one – and held it above your eyes.

“I went back for this.” 

“A ring?”

He chuckled. “You know it’s more than a ring.”

You held up your hand where the green version was. 

“Yeah,” Sirius said. “That’s why I went back.”

You sat up with a confused expression. You took the red ring from Sirius and then grabbed his hand so you could slide it back to its spot. 

“But you didn’t really know me then? We w’re barely said a word to each other?”

“Sure, but that doesn’t mean I didn’t want to.” Sirius laughed, more to himself. “I knew you were pretty and I wanted to be in your personal space!” 

You snorted a laugh. “Still, that was before you realized that I nicked this one.”

“No,” Sirius said with a shake of his head. “Well, yes. I thought Reg gave it to you. Which made me confused because you two couldn’t look at each other. But I saw it and, I don’t know, something told me I needed mine. And it was obviously something I left behind.”

You put a hand on either side of Sirius’ face and pulled him in to kiss you.

“You are a goddamn idiot, Black.” 

“Maybe-” he started to say.

“Maybe?” Lily interrupted. “There’s no maybe there!”

You and Sirius both turn to glare at her.

“Maybe,” he tried again more forcefully, “but I still got the girl.”

Remus leaned forward on his chair, giving Sirius a pointed look. “You went back to your parents’ for a measly ring?”

“Um, try a very important ring.”

“Yeah, important, sure,” James said sarcastically. 

Sirius grabbed your hand with the green ring and showed it to the group. “We needed to match!”

You burst into a fit of giggles. Sirius frankly looked insulted that his friends were belittling the ring. It had been something he could talk to you about when he was trying to win you over; and he may have liked that it got under your skin as you declared that they weren’t matching. His disgruntled expression melted into adoration as he looked at you. You were holding onto his arm for support in sitting up. 

“No, you have to admit, it’s kinda cute,” Mary said. “Mate was determined.”

“Eye on the prize and all that jazz,” Marlene added with a nod.

“You lot don’t know what he risked for a damn ring,” James said with a pointed finger sweeping around the group. “He said he’d be gone for like an hour and then didn’t come back until super late. My parents were beyond worried.”

“Fleamont and Effie?” Marlene gasped. “Hmm, love them.”

“You’ve met Potter’s parents?” you asked, looking at the blonde. 

“We all have,” Lily answered. “They’ve thrown lil Gryffindor summer parties since what, third year? Lovely people, really. And somehow… they raised-” Lily made a face “-him.” 

“Oi! You can’t wax poetic about Mum and Dad and then insult me!” James exclaimed to the roar of laughter from the group. 

“Evans is right. I’ve told you ‘bout them. Best goddamn people on this planet and I nearly sent them to early graves for some metal and precious gems.”

You smiled up at Sirius. “Don’t forget me. Metal, gems and the girl.”

“Yes, yes. My girl.”

You’re allowed to fall quiet again. The group started recounting events from various parties they’ve had over the years, mostly revolving around the summer Gryffindor parties. Turns out those included literally anything in Gryffindor from the previous year. You could only imagine how truly hectic those were, especially if the stories were anything to go off of.

“That sounds illegal,” you said once, and the group responded in chorus. “Yes.” 

Slowly as the night dragged on, the group dispersed. Lily and Mary went to bed. James disappeared upstairs too. Peter and Remus went off to talk to some other people. You’re not exactly sure if Marlene and Dorcas went to Marlene’s dorm together, or if Dorcas left and Marlene went to bed. What you do know is that you’re sitting with Sirius. At some point you had shifted to the couch in front of the fire and it was the comfiest thing. Comfortable, warm and resting your head on his shoulder, you were getting drowsy. 

“Y/N…” Sirius’ voice whispered in your ear. 

You opened your eyes. The common room had gotten quiet and you immediately thought you did something embarrassing. Then you realized that it was quiet because next to no one was still around.

“Are you… erm… Are you going back to your dorm tonight?” Sirius sounded hesitant. “Um, my dorm is closer if you don’t want to go that far.”

You sleepily looked up at him. He looked so beautiful. You could stare into those grey eyes for hours, especially if you could run your hands through those dark curls. Even better if you could feel his hands on you. And maybe even taste his lips…

You abruptly shook your head and blinked rapidly. Get those thoughts out of your head. 

“Yours, please,” you breathed. 

“Alright. Let’s go upstairs then, love.”

Sirius helped you off the couch. He wrapped an arm around your waist – it stayed there until you were outside of his dorm. The other three boys were fast asleep when you entered. You stood in place, looking around. Like with the common room, you mentally compared it to the Slytherin’s dorms, and just like with common room, the dorms felt very Gryffindor. Warm and homey with too much maroon. 

Sirius waved something in the air to get your attention. He was standing at the foot of the empty bed in front of an open trunk. 

“Pajamas?” he asked quietly. 

You nodded and finally moved to take them from him. He pointed to the other door in the room and you understood: the bathroom. You closed the door behind you to change and when you emerged, you saw Sirius had done the same. Well, sort of. He was shirtless with a pair of sleep shorts. At least he was kind enough to give you both shorts and a shirt. You were growing quite fond of Sirius and this relationship with him, but you didn’t think you were ready to sleep shirt- or pantless with him. 

He laid down, getting comfortable under the covers before patting the bed and lifting the blanket so you could crawl underneath. It was almost overwhelming to be in his bed. His scent, insanely strong, engulfed you. He laid on his back and wrapped an arm around you when you moved to snuggle into him. With your head on his chest, you matched your breathing to his and listened to his heartbeat. That was the most soothing thing on earth. 

For a while, you were too aware of everything to fall asleep. The way his blankets felt. The way the room seemed to cool down once you were in the bed, but the blankets still provided the needed warmth. The fact that you were laying with Sirius. His steady breathing that turned into soft snores. The way that you could only smell him with every breath you took. It was a lot. 

Until it wasn’t. It felt like someone flipped a switch. You went from feeling everything to nothing but comfort, and then you were asleep like you had been on the couch in the common room. 

The room was quiet when you woke up. It took you a few seconds to realize where you were, because it certainly wasn’t your dorm. Sirius still being tangled with you was the giveaway. Memories of last night drifted into your mind and you smiled against his chest. Knowing he went to his parents to get his ring because it would give him something to talk to you about was more meaningful without the liquor in your system. Now, you realized that he didn’t know he would get caught and dragged to the ministry party, and even more, he didn’t know you would be at the party. If you thought about it for too much longer, you knew you’d start using words like “fate” and “supposed to happen.” That was sappy, but Merlin, that’s how you felt right now. 

Sirius shifted and grunted. 

“Good morning,” you whispered. 

He grunted again in response, and it took a great amount of self control to not laugh. Note to self: Sirius is not a morning person. 

But then he rolled onto his side and pulled you into his chest. 

“Best morning,” he mumbled.

You had a feeling that while this was the first time you woke up in Sirius’ bed, it wouldn’t be the last. 

tags: @nsr-15, @kabekusa, @made-for-oliverwood, @sunflowerscloudydays, @salvatt1, @sammyreid, @ravisinghs-wife, @petrificustottally, @stanzie, @moonjellyfishie, @1989-taylors, @urmykindofwoman, @mrspotatas, @azure-drag0ness, @navs-bhat, @marina468, @boo8008, @bruxa0007

Not me taking another month to update this. Oopsies 🫣 And I'm calling it. This is the end of Stealing Your Heart. Thank you to everyone who came along for this story - I appreciate every like, comment and reblog. Love y'all ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎

[skybreakprimeonao3]

For @mouser26

Din wouldn’t consider himself to be a reader.

He had no trouble with it. It just wasn’t an activity he enjoyed on his own.

While he was between hunts, he would look for datasticks that would contain novels, probably pay more than was advisable for any sticks that contained a wide range of stories, just to bring back to the covert. Children, both born into the covert and newly rescued, enjoyed any stories, and adults also needed something to occupy their mind.

Most of the things that Din read were manuals on how to repair his ship or take care of his weapons. Since he had been using his weapons for most of his life, those types of manuals got little use. He would still read them and give the datastick to the Armorer without a word.

When Grogu came into his life, he didn’t have much time to find datasticks with children stories, but he did his best in telling the stories anyway. Near forgotten tales from his parents, old stories from his Mandalorian teachers, anything and everything was told to Grogu, though in hindsight, he probably should have censored a few of them. Though a harsh life wasn’t hidden from a Mandalorian child, and he was sure that Grogu went through more in his lifetime than most people would in three lives.

When he met Luke, the want to collect datasticks came back with a vengeance.

The Armorer told Din what to be on the look out for.

Luke told Din nothing and Din bought what he could for the Jedi.

Datasticks on gardening, on astronomy, on teaching and meditation and child rearing though Din was pretty sure that Luke had those areas covered, along with all the fictional stories. Only a fool would dismiss new information freely offered and Luke was no fool, accepting the gifted datasticks with a shy smile and fidgeting hands. Even if it wasn’t anything the Armorer asked for, Luke would copy all of it onto another datastick for Din to take to the Armorer.

The fidgeting hands went away when Din became comfortable with removing his helmet, and Luke would kiss his cheek instead.

Din never really questioned what was on the datasticks after his initial check through to see that it contained what the seller said. The datasticks that contained manuals and how-to guides were rather cheap, compared to the novels and children’s stories, so those were bought more often.

With more to read, Din always saw Luke walking around, muttering to himself as he read from a datapad. Any chance Luke got to himself, he was reading. Din and Grogu and other people could interrupt him at any time and he would answer, but the moment he was on his own again, the datapad was in hand and he moved about the area restlessly.

It was amusing, considering that Luke could sit for hours on end, meditating or teaching Grogu to meditate, or sit in his garden, patiently pulling up weeds and spreading compost.

Once in a while, Din got Luke to sit down while he read. Mostly when Din was reading as well.

Luke would join him on the couch or their bed, head resting on Din’s thigh as the two of them read quietly, Din’s fingers brushing through the soft hair of his lover. It was something the two of them shared during the quiet times of their life that didn’t need an overlap of experience. No sparring, no talking, just being together.

Despite the amount of reading Luke did, Din didn’t really see anything from the gained knowledge. Luke knew how to garden and how to meditate. He knew how to interact with children. Sure, there might have been something on the files that helped Luke, new information, but Din couldn’t look at the garden and see a difference between last year’s garden and the current one.

Unless Luke did something very specialized, apparently.

Din returned from a long hunt off planet, carrying a small bag of treats for Grogu and some special food items for Luke, when he found the Jedi at the table in the main living area. He was bent over something, so Din didn’t speak to him, not wanting to break his concentration.

It was rather late, so Din placed the food in the cabinets, and went down the hall to check on Grogu before returning to the living area. When he approached the table, Luke gave him a smile and Din was able to see what he was doing.

“You’re making a…book?”

Din had only seen books in archival images. Datapads were sturdier and easier to back up and replace, more widely used throughout the galaxy.

Luke hummed in acknowledgment as he tied off a string with sure movement. “A journal, technically, but yes.”

He held it up and Din took it, inspecting the journal curiously. “You keep a journal on a datapad,” he mused. “But now you’re trying paper? How did you get paper?”

“Well, Naboo still uses paper for some of their projects, and quite a few artists were willing to give me used paper. I told them that it was for a project of mine and the paper was going to be shredded and recycled and made into new paper and they seemed rather excited about it. What I don’t use for books gets used in the garden.”

“How many books have you made?”

“That’s my second one,” Luke confessed with a sheepish grin. “Grogu got the first one to do with as he pleased. I want to make a few more before I start the real project, so he’ll probably get this one too.”

“Real project?”

Luke moved around the table to a nearby cabinet, pulling out a box and opening it. Peering inside, Din could see a book, probably much older than what Din would guess, the spine and cover nearly falling apart.

“A rather old text,” Luke said quietly. “I found it shortly after the destruction of the last Death Star. I got the text copied down onto a datapad, but I wanted to make a physical copy. A type of meditation, maybe? Something to feel a bit more connected to the old Jedi Order.”

Din didn’t dare to touch the ancient book. “So you learned how to recycle paper and make journals?”

Luke shrugged. “Why not? It’s something new and interesting to do. Grogu enjoys playing in the paper slurry and seeing what colors he can get from the plants he uses. It keeps me occupied when you’re not here.”

Luke’s hip bumped against Din, making him smile.

“What gave you the idea?”

“The last datastick you gave me had instructions,” Luke said and Din blinked at him. “I’m not very artsy, but I can follow instructions and I can write. I just thought this was a good way to use the knowledge you gave me.”

Din chuckled and pulled him closer, kissing him gently. Luke might not have implemented the idea with him in mind, but it did make Din feel a bit more connected with his son and lover.

[darth-mortem]

This is a small fanfic in which Ghost and Soap look at a starfall and make a wishes. Just fluff and comfort, no hurt. 1352 words.

“Did ye know that if ye make a wish when ye see a shooting star, it will come true?” Soap asked, looking at Ghost.

They were sitting on fishing chairs about thirty feet from their camp, with their backs to the tent and the fire. It was Johnny's idea to take a leave and go out during the Geminids, of course, and Simon, as usual, didn't object. They invited Price and Garrick to join them, but the captain was not impressed with the idea of a hike in the middle of December, and Gaz said that there was nothing worse than being the third in the company of two fools in love.

“Do you really believe that?” Ghost asked, glancing over at Soap.

They were wrapped in the same blanket and warming themselves with mulled wine from large thermal mugs. They both leaned back, looking up at the starry sky.

“Nae that I believe in it, but no one is stopping me from trying.” Johnny said cheerfully.

“Then you're in luck.” Simon snorted. "We've already seen about fifteen shooting stars. And by the way, they're not stars, they're meteors."

“Dinnae be a nerd.” Soap waved him off and rested his head on Ghost's shoulder. “Ye better try it too.”

They sat in silence for a few minutes, and then a bright line crossed the sky. Johnny tensed and then exclaimed triumphantly that he had made it. Surprisingly, Simon realized that he had also made a wish, even if he hadn't intended to do anything so stupid. Although in his case, perhaps the point was that he had been thinking about something specific all this time while they were waiting for the next meteorite. And not just thinking, but... dreaming?

It was something completely new. When Simon was very young, he realized that dreams are something completely meaningless. They never come true, leaving behind only a bitter taste of disappointment. So he quickly stopped dreaming and started making plans instead. His not childlike rationality helped him survive the terrible conditions and take care not only of himself but also of his little brother. Thanks to it, he soberly assessed his chances, so he joined the army instead of trying to go to university. He became a successful soldier and then a commander. Without giving in to emotions, he survived in the worst situations and almost always brought his men back alive. His rationality failed in Roba's captivity, but in the end, it was its return that helped him escape. Perhaps if he hadn't relaxed and believed it was over, his family would still be alive. Even after turning into Ghost, he couldn't forgive himself for not taking revenge right away, for letting Roba find him and destroy everything he loved. For a long time, he forbade himself to love someone again, but then Johnny appeared in his life, and the mask of the cold, emotionless Ghost began to crack. He tried to resist, but the light emitted by the new member of the 141 was stronger.

“What did ye wish for?” Soap asked and fidgeted, pulling out a pack of cigarettes.

“Isn't there a rule that a wish won't come true if you tell it?” Ghost raised an eyebrow.

“Ye dinnae believe in any of this anyway!” Johnny lit up two cigarettes, squinting his eyes, accustomed to the darkness, and handed one to Simon. “Besides, I think it's better to voice yer wishes so they can be heard.”

“Heard by whom?” Ghost asked.

“By God, by the universe, I dinnae know!” Soap said, a little irritated. “Well, are ye going to tell me?”

“You go first.” Simon smiled slightly.

Johnny began to tell with excitement how he had been to an amusement park in the United States as a child and was not allowed on the biggest roller coaster because he was too young. Since then, he has dreamed of going there again and riding it, but it hasn't happened yet. Simon even looked at him, not believing that a grown man could have such a ridiculous desire, but Johnny was clearly being completely serious.

“Don't you get enough adrenaline at work?” Ghost asked.

“This is completely different!” Soap said confidently. “Someday I'll drag ye to an amusement park, and ye'll realize that for yerself!”

“Over my dead body!” Ghost replied, imagining the maddening crowds of children and adults and the noise that reigns in such places.

Johnny pouted, but after a minute he forgot about his resentment, taking a sip of mulled wine and feeling a pleasant warmth spread through his body. Simon, meanwhile, got up and went back to their camp to add wood to the fire and check if the tent heater was working. The ability not to save energy and warm up their sleeping quarters in advance was a luxury they hadn't had while working, so now the two soldiers were enjoying it with sincere pleasure.

“Well?” Soap asked as Ghost returned to his seat and draped some of the blanket over his shoulders. “What's yer wish?”

“I guess it's not really a wish.” He spoke thoughtfully, wondering how best to articulate what was on his mind. "I was just thinking that I would like to live the rest of my life with you. And that it would be a long one."

Before Soap came along, Ghost was sure he would not live to see old age, and that was fine with him. Dying on the battlefield was a logical end for someone who had given his entire life to the army. But now he didn't want that for himself, and especially not for Johnny. With him, retirement and the inevitable old age would not be as empty and lonely as Ghost had always imagined. Together they will certainly be able to find their place in civilian life and be happy until the very end.

“Oh, Simon!” Johnny said tearfully and pressed his shoulder against him. “Now I'm ashamed of myself for wishing such a stupid thing!”

Ghost laughed softly, hugged him, and stroked his cheek, which was flushed with cold, regretting that he was wearing his skeleton gloves in this moment.

“Where would ye like to live after retirement?” Soap asked, leaning her head back on his shoulder.

“In some small town that's hard to get to.” Simon answered thoughtfully. “Maybe somewhere in Alaska.”

“Ye like the cold.” Johnny smiled. "I dinnae mind it, though. Alaska has beautiful nature and lots of places to hunt and fish. We'll buy a house and get dogs and cats."

“And what will we do?” This time Simon asked the question. “Will we have any jobs?”

“Mibbie we'll get a job at the police station.” Johnny said thoughtfully. "There would probably be one in the whole town, or even several. We could also start a club at the school and teach kids how to navigate and survive in the wilderness."

“That sounds good.” Simon, who got along well with Soap's many nephews and had stopped claiming that the kids were afraid of him, agreed. "In small towns, crime is usually low, so we'll have a lot of free time. You're going to paint, and then we're going to have an exhibition of your paintings."

“And ye?” Soap asked.

“I might learn to make knives.” Ghost replied. “I think I'd be pretty good at it.”

“Ye know, there's something we can do right now.” Johnny squinted his eyes slyly.

“Like what?” Simon asked.

“Get married.” Soap answered and took his hand. “Why wait for retirement when we can do it now, open a joint family account, and start saving money for our future home?”

“Johnny…” Ghost was confused. “Are you proposing to me?”

“Aye.” He replied firmly. “I dinnae have a ring, but...”

“I agree.” Simon interrupted him and smiled. “Let's get married.”

He took Johnny's chin and kissed him gently, and then they stood up and went to their warm and cozy tent without speaking. The starfall continued, and all the wishes had been voiced, so now Soap and even Ghost had no doubt that everything they had talked about would come true.

[handweavers]

i've started making my own parandi (traditional punjabi folk hair accessory made of 3 bundles of long threads decorated with tassels and beads and bells that are braided into the hair) but i'm doing it with silk and cotton ribbons i naturally dyed and attaching little wool tassels and brass beads in my own style and i'm very happy with them. i make them in matching pairs because i like to wear my hair in two braids at home/while sleeping which is not how they're usually worn (typically it's in a single braid) but i like how they look and the sound of the little bells and beads and tassels chiming when i move. it's very fun

[erwinsvow]

you make a joke about not wanting to hurt your old man in bed one time to abbot and he will never let you live it down. takes it extremely personally and proceeds to fuck you into the mattress until you cry, but even then he won’t stop until you take the words back in between moans. he thought depriving you of your orgasm would be a funny way to make you sorry but then he changed his mind and decided on overstimulation instead. his favorite.

[akai-anna]

Hello there, dear @itsokaytomakemosstakes!

I was your assigned gift maker for the @dcmk-exchange event!

Ever since you shared your lovely mugs with me, the thought that Ran would get them as a matching kitty set for herself and Conan, wouldn't leave me alone. So I decided to embrace the idea; for both the headcanon and the personal touch.

Originally I planned something more silly, but the soothing vibes of my first sketch were just so lovely, I went with this instead (especially since I thought you might appreciate a bit of peace).

I hope you'll like this, and I really have enjoyed chatting with you, Moss!

[twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat]

would it be ok to hc reader in ur recent gojo drabble as autistic? i lwk noticed some signs but im not sure if it was intentional and i dont wanna be seen as weird for jt

!!!!! IT’S ABSOLUTELY OKAYYYY when i was writing their dynamic with gojo my basis was literally just that they’re on opposite sides of the spectrum 😭 but i didn’t add it to the tags or anything so you can interpret them however you want <333333

[multifandomhallucinations]

hey!!! so!!! my silence??? all different!!! and you can tell them apart!!!

resting bitch face???? stop talking!!! leave me alone!!!!

fidgeting??? eyes down??? biting my lip and tongue???? im overwhelmed!!! fuck off!!! shut up!!!

Walking away when you get close to me??? leave me alone!!!! i am not your friend!!!! we are acquaintances in my eyes!!!!

leg bouncing???? bouncing in place??? hand stimmies???? im hyper!!! stay!!!

leg bouncing??? fidgeting??? saying "mhm"??? tryna shut down the conversation??? SHUT THE FUCK UP!!!!

sitting on the ground while youre next to me and im on my phone??? if im only on my phone once in a while while you talk, keep talking!!! im engaged in the convo!!!

same thing but i varely pay attention to you even yhough i say i am???? GO AWAY!!! IM EITHER OVERSTIMULATED OR HATE YOU/DONT WANNA TALK TO YOU

JUST BECAUSE I SEEM LIKE IM ENGAGED DOESNT MEN I AM. IF I DONT LIKE YOU/DONT WANNA BE FRIENDS, YOU WILL NOTICE!!! MY MOND WANDERS MORE WITH PEOPLE THAT I DONT RLLY LIKE!!!! THAT OR IM ON MY PHONE!!!!

[hierneneuro]

i feel like i've been wearing my yellow hoodie a lot lately but i love my yellow hoodie

[creativepromptsforwriting]

How to show emotions

Part VI

How to show insecurity

not holding/breaking eye contact

fidgeting

crossing their arms

trying to cover up their body

making themself seem smaller

playing with their hands

hiding their hands in their pockets

holding their head down

blushing

clearing their throat

biting their nails

biting their lips

nervous laughter

stuttering

How to show being offended

stiffening up

hard line around the lips

frozen stare

narrowing of the eyes

turning their head to the side

quickening heartbeat

turning red

making themself bigger, ready to fight

How to show compassion

gentle and soft smile

relaxed facial features

softening of their eyes

openly showing how they feel

leaning towards the other one

nodding along, not directly interjecting, but encouraging

deep breaths inbetween

gentle touches to comfort

How to show being pleased

big smile/grinning

laying head slightly to the side

moving one shoulder up

pursing their lips while smiling

very open body language

leaning back

More: How to write emotions Masterpost

If you like my blog and want to support me, you can buy me a coffee or become a member! And check out my Instagram! 🥰

[shawtuzi]

here’s a random best friend!eren drabble bc im bored

cw include: black coded reader, some drug usage (weed), unprotected sex, backshots, sex standing up, sex onna floorrr, lots of dirty talk, multiple orgasms, squirting, creampie, some choking [ inspo vids: 1 2 3 ]

“you sure about this y/n? i don’t want things to get weird . . .” eren mumbled, his hands fidgeting with the loops on his jeans—something he always did when he was nervous. you just giggled, your mind too cloudy and in a horny daze to care that your about to fuck your childhood best friend.

you were sitting at the edge of your bed with eren standing right in front of you, his large frame towering over yours. his breath hitched when you grabbed onto the hem on his jeans, your chin now resting on his lower stomach. you looked at him through your freshly done lashes, your eyes low n’ red from the blunt you previously smoked together.

“i jus’ wanna see what’s got those girls all crazy about you ren,” you practically purred, smirking when you saw his teeth clamp onto his bottom lip. you could feel the firm bulge in his jeans, your manicured nails trailing up and down the length of it.

“oooo s-shit, f-fuck okay yeah get on all fours.”

sometime later….

“o-oh my goddd, f-fuck erennnn!” your arms flailed behind you to push as eren’s stomach, but him being the dickhead he is, just grabbed your wrists and held you still. he had you bent over the bed, your feet pushing up to your tippy toes to keep up with his brutal thrusts.

“no no don’t run mama—fuck, jus’ take it. cmon fuck me back, fuck renny back,” you pitifully shook your head, salty tears seeping into your comforter.

in all the years you’ve known eren you weren’t aware of the fact that he had such a dirty mouth. filthy praises and promises were flying past his kiss swollen lips left and right, so much so it was making you even more dizzy than you already were.

“who knew my best friend had such a pretty lil’ pussy,” eren breathlessly chuckled, his tongue swiping against his bottom lip as he admired the milky white ring of your essence coating the base of his cock. “n-no eren, too fuckin’ deep s-shit!” you cried, legs trembling as eren pushed all of his weight into your backside. he swiveled his hips, determined to reach that special spot deep inside you.

“heh, now y’see why those girls w-won’t leave me alone, dick is too fuckin’ good ain’t it mama,” eren groaned, smacking your ass harshly. eren wasn’t the best at a lot of things, not that he even really tried to be, but one thing he knew he was good at was beating up some lucky girls guts. sure he wasn’t slanging nine inches, but don’t get it twisted he knew how to use his six and a half inches very, very well. after all it’s not about the size of the wave, but the motion of the ocean or whatever the fuck.

he pulled you up by the neck, keeping you still against his chest. your legs trembled, your hands pushing back softly against eren’s thighs to steady yourself. “this is my favorite way to fuck, it’s so fun watching girls try to run just for me to fuck them to the floor,” he finished off his sentence by licking the shell of your ear, grinning when he felt your body shiver.

“you’re—hah! you’re s-sick ren.”

“shittt say that again baby,” eren groaned, sliding halfway out before slamming back inside. his free hand found purchase on your breast, the other hand squeezing lightly at your neck. “you’re *thrust* so fucking *thrust* s-sick eren!” you gasped out, your hands flinging behind you to tug at eren’s disheveled bun.

all a sudden black dots clouded your vision and your ears began to ring—well this was definitely new. “fuck, you squirtin’ mama?” eren was quick to wrap his arm around your waist, his other hand still securely wrapped around your throat. he fucked you through your orgasm, hearts forming at how soaked his thighs were now. he’s never had a squirter before, and he wasn’t sure he was ready to leave this life after you two were done!

“i *hiccup* didn’t even k-know i could do that,” you whimpered, your eyes rolling back when eren started up a steady rhythm. your pussy felt so sensitive, yet each time he pulled out you wanted him back inside that instant. your legs felt like jello and you knew any moment they were bound to give up.

you took a shaky step towards your bed but eren just followed, his lips upturning into a smirk. now comes his favorite part.

“r-ren okay! okay i get ittt,” you sobbed out, gasping as your knees met the plushness of your carpet. eren remained inside you the entire time, wasting no time as he pushed your face into the carpet until your back with positioned into the perfect arch. as crazy as it sounded each slap of his balls against your clit felt like electricity shooting through your veins, causing nothing but moans and babbles to slip past your drooling lips.

“fuck m’gonna cum mama, get ready,” with four final thrusts eren emptied himself inside you, coating your walls in his sticky warmth. your body slumped more into the carpet, your eyes fluttering shut. eren pulled out slowly, laughing when your lower half fell with a dull thud.

“i *sniffle* see your point,” you whimpered, your back arching when your clit rubbed against the carpet. eren grinned, sitting back on his knees before gently turning your body over. he tapped your thigh softly, “push it out . . . please.”

you rolled your eyes, not looking forward the even bigger mess it would make, but you did as you were told. eren let out a long breath through his nose as he watch he cum drip out of you in thick globs. he peered at you through his lashes—

“we should, um, do this again sometime.”

[oaksgrove]

Midnight Cravings.

pairing: Husband!John Price x Pregnant!Reader

synopsis: When a midnight craving strikes, John Price doesn’t hesitate to throw on a sweater and slippers to make sure his wife gets exactly what she wants.

warnings: Pure fluff, pregnancy cravings, devoted husband Price, excessive tenderness, and a very serious approach to fast-food missions.

word count: 833

The clock on the bedside table glowed with unforgiving numbers—2:37 a.m. John Price groaned softly, shifting beneath the covers, barely clinging to sleep when he felt a gentle nudge at his shoulder.

“John.”

Your voice was a soft whisper in the dark, hesitant but insistent. His instincts kicked in before his brain fully caught up—his warm, calloused hand immediately found your thigh beneath the blankets, rubbing slow, comforting circles.

“What’s wrong, love?” His voice was thick with sleep, but concern edged through.

You hesitated, fingers fidgeting against your growing belly. “I… I think I need a McChicken. With extra bacon.”

For a moment, silence settled over the room. Then, a soft chuckle rumbled from John’s chest, deep and affectionate.

“Now?” he asked, voice still heavy with sleep, but his feet were already shifting, instinctively preparing to move.

“Now,” you confirmed, looking a little sheepish, but your resolve was firm. “I just… I can’t stop thinking about it. I swear I can taste it.”

John groaned dramatically but was already throwing off the covers, running a hand over his face before swinging his legs out of bed.

“You’re lucky I’d do anything for you,” he muttered, reaching for his sweater.

You watched him, grinning as he pulled it over his head. His mussed-up hair stuck out in places, and the sight of your rugged, battle-hardened husband looking slightly disoriented in sleepwear and dedication made your heart swell.

“You’re amazing,” you said as you slipped into one of his oversized hoodies.

John huffed, grabbing the car keys from the dresser. “Yeah, yeah. Let’s get you fed before you start listing my other good qualities.”

You smirked, following him out into the cold night. Little did he know—you had a whole list.

The car ride was peaceful, save for the soft hum of the heater and the occasional quiet laugh. You rested your head against the window, watching the empty streets roll past.

John’s hand rested comfortably on your thigh, his thumb idly stroking along your knee as he drove.

“You look like a bear,” you teased, eyeing his comfy sweater and slippers combo.

He shot you a sidelong glance, smirking. “A bear who’s about to hunt down a McChicken for his missus.”

You giggled, shifting closer to him. “My hero.”

He squeezed your thigh. “Damn right.”

At the drive-thru, John placed the order with military precision.

“McChicken with extra bacon,” he said firmly, as if coordinating an extraction.

The teenager at the speaker sounded amused. “And anything else?”

John turned to you, brows raised. “Fries? Milkshake?”

You nodded eagerly. “Fries and a chocolate milkshake, please.”

He relayed the request without hesitation, his voice calm and confident—as if this was the most important mission he’d ever undertaken.

When the bag was handed over, he gave a satisfied grunt, inspecting the contents like a seasoned professional. “There we go. Operation McChicken is a success.”

Parked beneath the glow of the McDonald’s sign, you curled up in the passenger seat, unwrapping your treasure. The first bite had you sighing in satisfaction.

John watched you, amused but utterly enamored, the warm glow of the dashboard lights flickering across his face.

“This,” you said between bites, your voice full of bliss, “is exactly what I needed.”

John leaned back in his seat, arms crossed, a soft smile playing at his lips.

“Anything for you, love.” He reached over, placing a warm hand over yours on your belly. “And for the little one.”

Your breath caught slightly, overwhelmed by how easily he melted you with just a few words.

You turned your hand in his, squeezing gently. “You’re going to be such a good dad, you know that?”

His smile faltered just a fraction, his thumb brushing across your knuckles.

“Hope so,” he murmured. “I mean to be.”

The depth of emotion in his voice made your chest ache. You leaned over, pressing a soft kiss to his stubbled jaw.

“You will be,” you whispered against his skin. “The best.”

John let out a slow breath, his grip tightening on you, grounding himself in your touch.

For a moment, the world outside faded away. It was just the two of you, a bag of midnight fast food, a shared secret of anticipation, and the warmth of knowing that no matter what came next—you’d never have to face it alone.

As he started the car, he smirked. “Think we’ll be doing more of these midnight runs?”

You licked some sauce off your thumb, grinning. “Oh, definitely. Next time? Hot fudge sundae.”

John chuckled, shaking his head as he backed out of the lot.

“Christ, I’ve created a monster.”

You rested a hand on his arm, tracing absent patterns over his sleeve. “Yeah, but she’s your monster.”

John huffed a laugh, bringing your hand to his lips for a slow, lingering kiss.

“And I love her for it,” he murmured.

As you drove home together, his fingers laced through yours, you knew one thing for certain—this wouldn’t be the last time.

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