#but they're sticks so who caress?????

[donnietheterrapin]

Writing about a space that isn't vivid and that you don't understand the layout for because of one reason or another? Call that ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* vaguespacing ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

[lunaekalenda]

biker!suguru who looks pretty intimidating with that big helmet that covers his face, but will take advantage of red lights to make the children in the cars around him laugh. moving his hands, changing his seat, lying on the motorcycle; anything works when he sees them smiling and waving at him when the traffic starts again.

biker!suguru who's full of tattoos under all the riding clothes. they're tiny, like fine stickers on his body, but you could spend whole afternoons finding each one of them, and he'll gladly tell you what do they mean.

biker!suguru who refuses to let you get off the bike by yourself. if he opens the car door for you and offers a hand so you can comfortably get off, why wouldn't he do the same on the bike?

biker!suguru who accompanies you to buy clothes and equipment for riding. he has been on it for years and he knows the best brands, the best options and the more secure ones. he'll make sure to pay for them, even if they're expensive, as long as you're comfortable and protected from any injury.

biker!suguru who takes you everywhere. you have a meeting? he takes the bike. you're craving your favorite ice cream at night? you'll go quicker in the bike. why would you go walking if he loves to take you anywhere?

biker!suguru who's not bothered by the rain at all. he would ride anyway, with drops falling on his visor and sticking to his exposed neck. he would even unzip his riding jacket and let the rain wet his t-shirt. it makes him feel alive. (and later, sick.)

biker!suguru who doesn't like you sitting by yourself so makes it impossible for you, moving the bike and going back and forth, laughing and receiving your little slaps on his shoulders until you let him sit you (or he lets you sit)

biker!suguru who holds your hand when driving straight, taking it between his gloved fingers, cutely caressing and taking it to his helmet as if he was kissing it.

biker!suguru who helps you to put and take off the helmet the first times you ride, being his smile the last thing you see when closing your eyes to put it on and being his lips pressed on yours the first thing you feel when taking it off.

biker!suguru who doesn't doubt to show you how to ride when you ask him. he takes you on a couple lessons outside, quietly and calmly ordering you what to do. he trusts you enough to backpack you (but you don't trust your freshly aquired habilities with such a man behind)

biker!suguru who never arrives from a ride late. he'll always find you awake, and he doesn't want to let you go to sleep alone. he'll always make it safely on time.

biker!suguru who loves to mess with you, while riding and once done. he'll take your visor up, he'll put your hands inside his t-shirt, he'll give little taps on top of your helmet.

biker!suguru who craves shoulder massages on sunday afternoons after all the week riding and working. you'll gladly give him some, and he'll make sure to payback with cuddles (or rides.)

biker!suguru who lets all the kids try his helmet while he waits for you to exit work/uni. you'll just find the most random situations while getting closer to your boyfriend, such as a kid having trouble with the helmet's weight or another one unable to see due to puting it wrong.

biker!suguru who looks so good unzipping his riding suit and taking off the helmet you can only think of seein that exact image every evening of your life

part one here ✨

[frogchiro]

Ok but like.. Reader showing a little bit of “favoritism” to the 141 👀

Asking one specific person to spar, to hang out, sitting by that person when eating, etc.

How would they react to being the “chosen one” and how would the rest of the 141 react to not being the “chosen one”?

Bonus: Imagine if they really did make reader their pretty little wife 😩

Imagine that your favorite isn't from 141 or even Shadow Company but fucking KorTac; and your favorite being the one and only anxiety ridden wild attack dog, König <3

Their jaws would literally drop to the floor when they saw you basically babying the fucking thing, sitting in the giant man's lap, cooing softly at him and oh so gently caressing his broad chest and shoulder and occasionally dipping under the hood to do...something.

They just don't get it, everything is wrong in this scenario >:( Why are you favoring not only a stranger but also out of everyone, why does it have to be König specifically?? They saw him on the battlefield, he's a monster, an absolute beast on field, ramming through enemy troops as if they're dirt under his boots, breaking them like they're match sticks in his massive paws. They saw König, the real him, the Rabid Dog from KorTac who may come off as silent, anxious and borderline anti-social with how quiet and fidgety he is but while fighting he's a fucking monster, that eerie crazy look in his green eyes something Soap wouldn't soon forget and yet- here he is, sitting as docile as a kitten, fidgeting and bashful under your sweet attention, his broad hips moving suspiciously under you as you're whispering something to him that made the large man duck his head as you burst into a fit of giggles.

Poor team 141 had to watch you be all over König and angrily wondering what does that guy have that hey don't >:(

[dinogoofymutated]

Plz tell me you’re doing a part 2/continuation of you nsfw nightcrawler(only if you don’t want to of course). I just have got to read about Kurt returning the favor cus I just know he’s going to be a little teaser/pleaser 🤭 ya know. Kurt has been one of my first loves since I was a kid and I’m so glad the nightcrawler fandom has come out of hiding because it feels nice to be in a place that gets you😌

NSFW!Nightcrawler/AFAB!reader - part 2!

Don't forget to read part 1!

Ask and you shall receive!! You and @the-girl-who-walks-with-faeries both requested a part 2 so here it is!! I hope this is okay, I know the original was completely GN but I wasn't sure how to do that with this one!

Also, I know we all love our goofy furball but this is a daily reminder that Kurt has so much depth to his character. It's really easy for us as a Fandom to characterize him as a happy-go-lucky ball of constant sunshine but he's much more than that!- Tis all. Peace ✌️

TW: MDNI!!!! Smut, fingering, PNV sex. Little bit of teasing. Lots of petnames. Sorry for the shitty German translations. Creampie.

Kurt used to be really self conscious about his hands when the two of you first got together. It's not that he thought you found them disgusting, in fact, he knew it was quite the opposite.

He was just worried that he wasn't able to prepare you properly. Especially since they're so wide set on his hand. Going two at a time wouldn't be comfortable for you or him.

Eventually, he did become more confident on himself, especially when he tried other ways of foreplay, making sure you're not only prepared, but fully sated before the main course.

“Please, let me return the favor, my love.”

Kurt's hands teasingly rubbed the crook of your thighs, caressing the sensitive inner skin. You can't help but let out a little whine as he slides his hands closer to your lips, only to slide away again. He chuckles, and you faintly hear his tail swaying back and forth against the bed.

"Kurt, don't tease." You softly chide, relaxing further into his chest. He leans over to kiss your cheek, trailing down to your neck sensually. You sigh as he licks and nips at the soft skin.

"Apologies, Schatz. Seems I can't help myself." He muses. You gasp as a fingertip grazes across your clit, teasing at first, before he adds a little more pressure. You let out a noise of pleasure and contentment at the sensation. Kurt's other hand reaches up to caress your breast, thumb gently brushing across your nipple. You sink your teeth into your bottom lip as the finger on your clit dips down, teasing your slit as he gathers the sickness pooling there and drags it back up to your clit.

"All this, for me?" Kurt hums, his canines grazing the crook of your neck. You nodd in response, unable to think clearly enough to respond to him. He chuckles again, turning your head to pull you into a deep kiss. You feel one of his fingers teasing your slit again, sliding in rather smoothly. The action causes you to gasp into his mouth, and Kurt takes the invitation. His tongue caresses the inside of your mouth, keeping you rather occupied as he fingers your cunt. His kiss leave you breathless, gasping for air when you separate. His face is just as flushed as your own as his thumb wipes the spit from your mouth. You stick your tongue out to meet his thumb, licking the pad of the digit before sucking it into your mouth teasingly. Kurt can't take his eyes off of you, cursing quietly at the action. The curl of his finger inside of you causes you to release it, moaning as he touches you just right.

"Kurt?" He sucks in a breath at the sound of your voice.

"Yes, liebling?" The nickname causes a flutter in your chest even now, sprawled out across his lap in the throes of pleasure.

"Fuck me?" He's speechless for a moment, heated gaze keeping your own. He can't kelp but lean in and kiss you again, his tail wrapping around your waist to simply have you fully encompasses in his hold.

"...I will do more than just that, my love." He whispers once he gathers himself enough to speak. He gently turns you around, kissing you over and over as he lays you against the bed. His hands trail down your arms. Gathering your wrists and bringing them upwards to press kisses to both palms. His eyes narrow as he catching a glimpse of the bruise forming on one of your wrists, and a heated gaze turns to concern.

"Did I do this?" He asks, tail unwinding from around your waist, like he's worried he'd squeeze you to tight (again). You don't want to lie to him, but you don't want to tell him either, knowing that the thought of hurting you while caught up in his own pleasure is more than a nightmare for him. Instead you pull him down to kiss you. He sighs into the kiss, caressing the bruise before he moves onto his elbows to hold himself above you in the bed. He’s hard against you when you grind up against his pelvis, the action making him gasp. He separates from the kiss reluctantly as you begin to line him up, notching the head of his cock against your slit. He stops you before you try to take him in.

"You stop me if that ever happens again." Kurt says, a little more strictly than you've heard him speak to you before.

"Okay." You nodd at him. "I promise." He smiles at you, brushing the hair out of your face before he begins to push into you, slowly. You're breath gets caught in your throat as he does so, sinking into you inch by inch. Kurt’s face is scrunched up in pleasure, those beautiful sharp canines biting into his lip before he buries his face in your neck.

Nothing has ever felt as perfect as he does when he's finally bottomed out inside of you. He sits for a moment, letting you adjust to his length before your patting his shoulders, begging him to move. He does so, starting slowly, thrusting deep into you as he pours his love into your body. You're doing your best to keep quiet, but it's hard when Kurt feels so perfect inside of you. Each thrust into you sends another flicker of pleasure to your stomach, already feeling so close.

Kurt himself isn't fairing much better, his whines and noises of pleasure being a sound you want to memorize until the day you die. Every once in a whole he'll murmur words of praise and love and appreciation for you, your body, your soul. He's immersed in the depths of you, sinking into your cushiony walls faster and faster as he begins to reach his own peak once again. One particular thrust is a little shaprer than the others, leading you to call out his name.

"Pssst. wir müssen ruhig sein. Liebe." He shushes you, pressing a kiss to your cheek. His strokes become faster as he gets closer and closer, not too far behind you.

"Kurt! I'm- ah... I..."

"Ich weiß, Schatz. Hah... ich bin bei dir." The knot of pleasure inside you snaps, and snapps hard. Kurt groans as he feels your walls fluttering around him, sucking him in. The sensation is too much. He thrusts inside you a few more times before he's reaches his own peak, cumming inside you in warm spurts. He twitches inside you, letting out small whines as he rides through the waves of pleasure.

Kurt collapses partially on top of you when he's done, pulling out gently and panting as the two of you try to catch your breath. His face is flushed when you look over at him, hair disheveled with his eyes blissfully closed. Your heart skips a few beats at the sight, and you find yourself reaching over to caress his face. His eyes blink open, and he smiles in a way that makes your heart stop. He holds your hand to his face, brushing his thumb across the skin of your knuckles.

"I missed you so much." You murmur, leaning in to rest your forehead against his. His smile would spread wider if it could, nothing but love and adoration in his eyes.

"We should make up for all the lost time then, love. How long do you think it will take for the others to notice us missing?"

[thegnomelord]

If you're up to it, I would like to request FtM reader x dragon Price, reader can be dom or sub I just need more FtM things in life besides myself😞😞 -🐆

Sure, I wasn't in the mood for porn so have some fluff. fair warning I'm not all that confident writing FTM reader so ya'll tell me if this sucks lol

CW: SFW, gender dysphoria, fluff, non sexual nudity, cuddling, scar kissing

Most day are good for you. Most days you're able to get out of bed and go about your day to day duties with confidence.

Not today.

You wake before your alarm with an unpleasant feeling in your gut, tossing and turning for an hour in hopes of falling asleep but it's useless. The morning chill only amplifies the horrid sensation — your skin doesn't feel like your own, your body doesn't feel your own. It's like roaches are crawling beneath your skin, thousands of toothpicks stabbing your nerves every time the cotton of your boxers brushes against your flawed flesh. Old words of people you once considered friends ring in your head like church bells: You're not a real man, you'll never be.

All you are, is a badly made replica in the approximation of what you want to be.

Your bones feel like they're lined with lead, every cell in your body begging you to stay under the covers in the darkness of your room for however long it takes for this feeling to go away. But the sharp ringing of the alarm forces you to rise against your wishes. You don't look at yourself when you shower, but the small glimpse of skin you catch in the mirror makes bile burn the back of your throat. Usually you're proud of your torso and the muscles you've built, but all you can think now as you put on the tight fitting army shirt is how wrong it looks on you. You try to pull on the front a couple of times in an attempt to make it baggier around your chest, before just putting on a jacket regardless that it's the middle of summer.

Recruit duty makes a bad day even worse, adding a headache alongside the discomfort and anxiety that straddle your brain. You hate how snappy and agitated you are with them, running them through grueling drills until they regret being born and have probably called you every name under the sun in their heads. The all collapse when you're finally finished with them, stepping away from them. The day's heat made you sweat like a pig, another round of bile burning the back of your throat at how your clothes stick to you.

You flinch back when a hand grabs your shoulder, quickly whirling around to look who it is with a sharp retort burning on your tongue, only to fizzle out when you're met with Price's face.

Your name sounds so right when he says it, the scent of tobacco curling in your nose as he steps closer to you, wing stretching out to subtly hang over you. "What's going on lad?" Price asks, his voice low, like taking a sip of cool water.

The question makes you hesitate, unable to meet his gaze so you fixate on counting the little chips in the concrete floor. "Just one of those days." You grunt, your voice hoarse and scratchy from belting orders all day.

Price hums in thought and then you feel his wing bump against your back, "Follow me soldier." The deep timber of his voice silences some of the dark thoughts crooning in your ears, and you're helpless to do anything but follow after him like a lost lamb. He leads you back to his room (that you haunt most nights), the place blessedly cool and dark compared to the heat outside.

The second the door closes and locks he pulls you in close, wrapping his steady arms around you and pushing your face into the pillowy bosom of his pecs. You struggle for a moment out of pure instinct, but a single call of your name makes you stop like a puppet on cut strings. He repeats your name like a caress, rolling every syllable on his tongue as his chest rumbles with a deep purr.

You melt into him, nuzzling your nose into the deep valley of his pecs and breathing in his smell. He's more intoxicating than any drug you know; beneath the scents of tobacco, dark coffee, and manly musk there's always something that your mind associates with freshly cut grass and rain on dry gravel — Comfort.

"You're so smart and clever." He croons, resting his chin on top of yours, one hand tracing the curve of your back. "But by god are you a dumb muppet." There's no edge to his words, you don't even think of fighting his admonishments. "How many times have I told you to come to me if you feel like this?"

Too many times, to be honest. You're stubborn if nothing else, you always think you can handle this on your own, you don't want to burden him whenever your mind decides to be a dick to you. "I'm sorry." You mumble into his shirt, your hands slowly wrapping around his thick waist. It always does your head in how your fingers can't quite meet in the middle of his back with how broad he is, muscle and fat shifting beneath your hands.

"Sure you are." He tuts, evidently not believing you for a second. But he doesn't pull away, tail loosely wrapping around your leg and his scent and heat enveloping you, his chest vibrating against your face. "Going to let me take care of my boy, aren't you?" The way he phrases it makes it sound like a statement, and you're unable to resist it.

Your mouth goes dry, your body stuck between wanting more and abhorring any more physical contact. But you nod your head, grumbling something probably nonsensical. And any other day you'd laugh your ass off about the fact you're practically motorboating him, but not today. Today you barely have any energy left to think.

"That's my boy." He purrs, clawed fingers gently scratching your scalp. "Shower?" He asks.

You pause, trying to string together a tangible thought. You doubt you could handle that, not with how dark and heavy your head feels. "No." You croak and nuzzle further into his chest in an attempt to hide.

"S'alright, I'm proud of you." He hums, still holding you close as he shuffles across the room with you blindly following him. "Let's get you out of those sweaty clothes, yeah?" Getting a single nod from you, he starts to slowly take off your clothes, pulling back just enough to distract you with sweet kisses. You try to help in taking his clothes off, but you feel about as useful as a small child helping his parents cook, getting a few chuckles from him.

You wind up gently pushed down on your back, spread across his bed that smells just like him and naked as the day you were born. Before the discomfort can make you shy away and try to cover yourself, he's settling down next to you, claws scraping against your jaw as he pulls you into a slow kiss. You swear you can always taste a bit of eternity every time he kisses you, so unhurried like you'll last as long as him.

"Look at you." He hums as you part, his hands sliding down your shoulders and arms to your hips. "My handsome boy." He tilts his head to kiss all over your face, trailing his lips from your brows to your eyelids, cheeks, nose, chin to wherever else he can reach. His beard is soft against your skin, evidently he'd used that beard care product you'd given him. "So strong and capable. My strong knight."

That gets the first vestige of a chuckle out of you. "Does that mean I get to lay the dragon?" You ask, your lips tugging into a small smirk. You've made that joke god knows how many times, but despite his gripes, Price loves it.

"Cheeky wanker." He huffs, his cool clawed fingers trailing along the curve of your muscles up your torso. "Later, if you're good."

A low sound escapes you when his thumbs brush the even scars beneath your pecs. "Good?" He asks, waiting for you to nod before tilting his head down, horns gently poking your skin for a second before he starts kissing along your scars. His touch is gentle like you're a precious treasure in his hoard, his lips velvet soft against the rough scar tissue. Every brush of his lips makes your skin tingle like a live wire, fire simmering in the place he kisses as he trails from one side to the other, laying equal attention on every inch of your scars.

It's pleasant. Beyond pleasant. It leaves your chest feeling so warm and full like your heart will burst through your ribcage.

You feel like a melted puddle of goo by the time he pulls away to kiss you on the lips again. You don't struggle as he lays down on his side and pulls you to him. A pleased sigh escapes you as you feel his wing drape over you like a blanket, tail curling around one of your legs and arms wrapping around your waist; like he's making sure you can't escape (not that you'd want to.)

Dragons are strange, the scales cool against your skin but his core is hot like a furnace, the duality of it calming your mind. "How are you feeling lad?" He asks, the low timber of his voice vibrating his chest.

You hum and nuzzle into his pecs, the ample chest hair tickling your face. "Better." You grunt, blindly kissing what inch of flesh you can reach. You can't keep your hands from wandering, petting the dark hair of his happy trail as your other hand traces the scales on his side. "Could feel better with a bit more attention though."

A snort leaves him, his breath ghosting over your ear. "You're insatiable." His words would be a lot more insulting if his chest didn't vibrate with a continuous purr, his tail tightening for a second before relaxing.

"You're to blame." You feel better as the words leave you, your chest light as a feather as you get to share a small laugh with him.

"Get some rest, my boy," You hum, your eyelids already starting to feel heavy as you feel him nuzzle his cheek into your hair. You don't doubt the whole base will be able to smell him on you tomorrow. "We'll see about laying dragons later."

"I love you." You murmur into his flesh, his pecs becoming the world's best pillow as you nuzzle closer. You stay awake just long enough to hear him murmur his love for you in your ear.

[mommypieck]

𑄽୧ stripping with levi 𔓘 ᰍ

kinktober day 27: you pervert!!!

✿ levi ackerman x reader

✿ warnings: stripping, mention of body hair

"Captain, are you there?" you knock on the door of Captain Levi's office. You don't even wait for an answer before bursting in the door. Levi shoots you a dirty look, you're not one of his favorite trainees. You're rude and naughty, always flashing your classmates.

"What do you want?" he asks you, clearly wanting you to get the fuck out of his office. You have other plans though. he has been treating you like shit since the start of your training. You thought about why that might be, and you got only one answer from your brain.

He's probably a virgin who needs to get laid.

"I'm here to show you some good time," you tell him with a smile, your hands coming to rest on your shirt buttons. His eyes shoot wide, he knows what you're trying to do.

"Stop what you're doing right now," he orders, but his voice wavers. You know he wants it as much as you do. You have seen him any time checking you out. You know he watches your ass when you get up on a horse.

"But I have already taken off my harness." you pout, your fingers coming to slowly unbutton your shirt. Levi watches your every move, focused on how a new piece of your bare skin is revealed.

Shrugging your shirt off your body and finally revealing your lacy bra, Levi sucks in a breath. His eyes shut close. This isn't happening. He can't let his trainee take off her clothes in front of him. Levi thinks about what might happen after all your clothes are off and…

"You're happy to see me." you giggle when a bulge appears in front of his pants. You're happy that you got him hard so fast.

You have wanted to fuck him for so long, and you're going to get what you want, now!!

"Do you like them?" he thinks he might faint when you jiggle your breasts in front of his face. Your hands are on the cups of your bra, just rubbing them together. They look so inviting to him, and he just wants to stick his head in between them.

Finally, your fingers reach behind your body to unlock the bra clips. It falls on the ground, revealing your boobs in all of their beauty. A quiet breathy moan rips out of his mouth.

They're perfect. The way how your nipples stand erect right in front of his eyes, makes him want to latch his mouth on them. You pinch them in front of him, looking seductively into his eyes.

Your body turns around, and you bend in front of him, caressing your ass cheeks with your hands. You pull your pants down a bit, giggling when you accidentally take your underwear down with it. He catches a full sight of your ass and your hole, but you pull your panties up before he can look better.

"You're a pervert." you smile at him, turning around so he can take a good look at you only with your panties on. Finally, now you realize your bad pick, the panties are softly pink with a little white bow in the front. You could have worn something sexier.

But he thinks this is sexy enough. He knows you're a slut, but these panties make you look like the most innocent angel. You have the face of an angel, that's true, but the body of a satan. He doesn't even wanna think about how many people have been inside of you. How many people shot their cum on your angelic face.

Just the thought of costing your face with his cum makes his cock twitch. There's no doubt you wouldn't lick it off.

He watches in anticipation as you take your panties off. He inhales deeply. He watches you spin before him, showing him every part of your body. He's painfully hard, your pussy is just so pretty. He thinks the patch of hair right above your pussy lips is so cute, natural girls are the prettiest.

You drop down on your knees in front of him, running your hands on his hard cock. He doesn't have time to think before you pull him out of the slacks, tongue teasing his tip. He never had anyone do this to him before.

"Im gonna play with your cock now, captain. Let's see how long you last."

taglist: @mcharris747 @huuuuut30 @krispsprite @bejewelledd @cawwn @veryninjanacho @jamayah @dngerwayz @nwptune @universlypiratecolor @ffakegucci @merachannie @d1lf-luvr @th3girln3xtdoor @nobody289x @iheartpieck @gia999 @kawasgirl @st4rrlighttt @candyeyeroll @7haze @banchangsbbbg @nigthmar3moon @softlilpeachxx @d1gitalbathh @jaenniii @raeeesblog @satorustar @balenciagarette @erp1007 @herefor-tojis-tits

[erinfern0]

simon "ghost" riley — nsfw headcanons

— gender-neutral nicknames, gender-neutral anatomy, only pronouns used are you, etc.

simon who can't stop himself from making sounds, burying his face in your neck to at least try to do that. soft moans and groans with each thrust, praises falling from his lips every few seconds.

simon who loves to hear your gasps and moans, hating when you try to stay quiet. always encourages you to keep going, to be louder.

simon who hates when you think too much about the way your body looks, how it folds in certain places. he'll praise those parts the most, lingering his fingers over them and kiss them until you forget about any insecurities.

simon who is just obsessed with kissing you. your cheeks, forehead, nose. those innocent little pecks are his second favorite. the absolute winner is obviously your lips, slowly moving against his.

simon who loves to see the mess you two are creating, watching how your combined slick sticks to his hairy thighs.

simon who bites into your shoulder when he's getting close, not too hard. just enough to leave a mark and help him collect his thoughts, keeping the amazing pace of his hips rolling against yours.

simon who adores watching you touch yourself. loves the way you spread your legs and let him watch, especially if you want him to guide you.

simon who chuckles when he gets overstimulated. sometimes he just breaks in the middle of speeding up his thrusts, eyes closed and hazed as he chuckles, too sexdrunk to form sentences.

simon who prefers getting handjobs over blowjobs. he just loves the intimacy of it and how he can hear you talk him through it. is obsessed if you just fondle the tip, the sounds of his precum filling the room.

simon who finds some sort of comfort if you don't shave. seeing your body hair or caressing it with his palms helps him to calm down.

simon who loves casual intimacy that doesn't exactly lead to sex. playing with your nipples while you two are watching a movie or slipping his hand under your shorts while you're washing the dishes.

simon who loves sex in the morning, especially when he has to wake up sooner than you. just the tiniest shifting of him trying to get up makes you wake up too, he apologizes with the sweetest words and starts kissing your neck. after you two are done, he cleans you up and allows you to go back to sleep before he leaves to take a shower.

simon who gets too overwhelmed sometimes. especially if you're together for a long time, he finds himself rambling in your aftercare time, sometimes a few tears will build up in the corners of his eyes while he tells you how good you've been to him. he's just so lucky to have you, so happy.

simon who loves aftercare in general and finds it extremely important. especially if you went through a rougher session. makes sure you're not too sore or you don't regret anything. water and snacks are his favorite part, just eating and enjoying each other's company.

simon who is too touch-starved after he's back from deployment. the first time you have sex when he's back he cums so fast he's almost ashamed of it. you just make him feel too good. after he calms down he makes up for all the time you two lost.

simon who loves the intimacy and vulnerability of giving you head. he gets so lost in your taste and the way you squeeze your thighs around his head.

simon who loves the marks you leave on him, especially when they're somewhere hidden. adores the sting of your nails digging into his forearms or thighs.

simon who loves to involve your inside jokes in dirty talk. he can't explain it but it just makes the whole thing more personal, a special moment between two lovers

masterlist | request info

[slightlypossessed]

Synopsis – Steve let's someone take care of him, for once in his fucking life

Who? – Steve Harrington x Fem!reader

18+ content – MDNI // handjob, thigh riding, marking and kissing.

4.05k – 17 mins

words are lost on him

it's not that there are none coming to mind — they are, they're just not sticking: light flash-bangs that don't last enough to know if he's really seen or imagined them.

the words are too quick for him to grasp onto, nerve endings fried as they spark alight with every stroke of your hand.

The movements you so torturously inflict on him are gentle, yet cruel. ministrations calculated and precise to ensure the most damage to his mind and fragile, vulnerable, state as he lies bare beneath you.

Body bare and soul rested on a silver platter for you, laid prettily at your feat for you to take as much as your heart, and lust, desire.

"Baby..." his whisper is husky, voice wrecked and all scratching-on-metal as he tries not, but fails, to beg.

Cognitive dissonance is a killer thing, Steve decides as you give a particular rough tug to his straining cock, more so than he's realised now that he's in the deep cusps of it. On one hand he's trying to hold himself together, trying to be man — in his mind, he's made to please, to be a caretaker — it's why he puts up with the bloody kids that he knows will make his hair go gret by the time he's 32, it's why he's there after every argument max has with her father, every time dustin feels lonely, every time Lucas has a falling out with the rest of the boys — always there, an invisible hand on the back, guiding, cautious, caring.

And it's why it's typically the other way around with you two than it is now. Steve's gotten comfortable with the unintentional routine: you beneath him, mouth and sex hot as you beg and scratch while he wrecks you piece by piece. He's your boyfriend, he's yours, and it's his job to please you. He's gotta care for you, for your pleasure — because he's your man, and because he goddamn wants to.

But as his darned luck would have it, your hands feel too good on his cock for him to push you away: far too gentle to push him over, but determined to press all the delicate parts of him, your fingers deft and rubbing down the areas you know to be sensitive — just enough times with every stroke to keep him constantly on edge.

He's lost time, how long it's been: maybe five minutes? ten? fifteen? maybe just the one? a torturously slow minute of pure ecstatic and exhilirating agony? He's doesn't know, all he knows is that he's at your mercy to grant him what he most needs.

And right now he needs more of what you're giving, just – god, please, more – enough to quiet the voice in his head telling him he's failing... something. Your pleasure? His supposed boyfriend duty? he doesn't know, but he wants it quiet — you've already told him you want to take care of him.

However long it was ago, his brain is half-mush and he can't quite remember, you took in your arms mid make out session and told him you wanted him, your tone different than every other time you've said those words, your hold on him more tender and enveloping.

"let me take care of you," you'd whispered against his lips, your hands on his chest and steadily caressing lower, "please."

He couldn't say no to you then, can't say no to you ever — his sweet girl, whatever you want, you'd get — and he's decided then that he'll be most compliant for you, he'll relent underneath you as you take care of him, in whatever way you'd wished to do that.

and fuck, he wasn't prepared – doesn't think his brain has relaxed ever since you pushed him against the headboard and straddled his legs and fucking told him to just relax.

How can he? when the prettiest girl he's ever seen is on top of him looking so pretty with earnest eyes tracking every emotion and expression that passes over his face. You're so keen, attention completely tuned in on him.

Nerves firing blast rapidly, blinding white light behind his eyes, whether his eyes are closed or not.

He's not even sure anymore if they're open or closed, there's just glimpses of you, and he's not even sure if his short-circuiting brain is catching up a moment late, doesn't know if by the time he's caught to the beautiful sight of you as you stoke more heat in his belly, he might've already drifted in another mini ecstasy and closed his eyes again.

Fuck, he needs more — he's not sure he can handle it — so much going on in his brain, so much pleasure emitting from your soft hands on his hard cock, but he needs more. Maybe it'll quiet his mind, maybe it'll ramp up the frequency to a million, maybe he'll completely lose it and go insane by your hands — but he craves what you give.

"Please," his voice is foreign to his own ears, broken and pleading. If he were to really think about it, you haven't even done that much to warrant his half-wrecked state. But he's there, and he seems relenting to the idea of you completely breaking him.

Maybe the idea of you taking care of him has done more to him than he thought it would.

A low moan escapes his throat as his hand previously gripping the sheet moves to anchor itself to your hips.

"Fuck," another broken sound, "please, honey, more." He isn't sure more what, faster? harder? both? he just needs your hands on him and to forget all his thoughts before he even has them.

"shh," you soothe as your hand tightens around the tip of him– and by god, you're evil, a wicked little thing— you know he's most sensitive there, and if you'd had any doubts about that, they were now for sure quelled by the debauched moan that escapes his throat. "I've got you, sweetheart, just relax for me."

But he can't relax, oh god, what are you doing to him?

Evil, he's decided.

Heavenly, his heart argues, as you lean down to give him a saccharine kiss on his parted lips, your tongue swirling with his.

Deep down, you're aware that your torturous and slow pace over the last few minutes has built him yet kept him consistently at bay, kept him all achy and squirmy underneath you – all because of you, for you.

He whimpers quietly, the sound low and vulnerable against your lips, and you pull back to hear his sweet sounds better – and immediately he gifts you another desperate sound as he chases your lips.

Usually, hand jobs are quick business in your relationship. Quick things done in foreplay before Steve's putting his tongue on you and making you cum a few times as he gets hard again to fuck you – sometimes he's even pushing your hand off him before he cums, choosing to sink himself deep inside you instead.

But it's been on your mind for a while now, this urge to just take care of him. You're brain constantly wandering to how he'd look like, sound like, if lets himself loose and handed over the reigns of his pleasure to you. He's stretching himself too thin everyday — acting as a brother, a father and a friend to a group of 15-year-old kids united by other-worldly trauma. He's the perfect boyfriend 24/7, small gifts every now and then, dates every week, fucking you silly almost every night – and on top, he's got a full-time nine-to-five.

You want to do something for him, get his mind of off everything for a while. And maybe this opens the door for more later – it's not that Steve doesn't let you take charge often, but even then he's still very much a giver rather than a taker, and this time you want him to just take and be as selfish with you as he'd wish to for once.

And so you stroke him faster in your hand again, your grip tighter this time.

A low groan sounds from his throat when your hand squeezes him at the base. Electric shocks from the centre of him to his brain.

You can't deny him what you want, can't ignore his pleas for more pleasure, not when he's so pretty underneath you, face red and flush, and his hair a mess all over a place with a few strands down his forehead.

Beautiful, in every sense. Debauched facial expression: eyes heavy-lidded and mouth agape, heavy pants in and out.

So pretty, and so you really can't even think to deny him what he aches for. Your hand moves faster without meaning to, just wanting to see more of him in this state. He rewards you with another groan, his hand tightening on your waist.

faster and faster, the sudden change of pace makes his back arch of the headboard bringing his chest closer to yours and he can feel your hardened nipples from beneath your thin shirt. The feel of it makes him shudder and he feels the need to be closer to you.

He can't think to even lift hands to take the shirt you're wearing of you, feel you closer to his skin, his heart – but he can lean his face up towards you and hope you understand his polite request.

And you do, instantly, because you were already halfway down to laying another kiss on his soft, pink lips.

Your lips meet his, gentle and tender as you feel his soft lips between your own. Your hand moves even quicker now, your thumb pressing down on the on spot you know makes him keen — and his reaction is instant. His mouth opens mid-kiss as he moans unabashedly against your lips as you continue to press over that one spot over and over again.

He's going to go insane, by god, you're going to drive him to the crazy house, because the things you're doing to him are effectively frying his brain.

You leave his mouth, and choose to kiss his exposed neck instead.

He's welcoming of it; without meaning to, he tilts his head to give you more access to suck and bite all kinds of marks along his neck – and he'd wear them with pride, let everyone now how good his girl takes care of him, how good she makes him feel. Fuck, he just wants you all around him, your soft lips on his neck and hands on his cock. He can feel your thighs against his, your calves rubbing against his knees – with every brush of your skin against his the fire in his belly grows warmer, moving from his core and spreading to his chest, his head, his limbs – rendering him tingly all over and loose beneath you.

Your hand move down as you caress his balls in slow circles as your other hand moves to continue stroking his cock.

And Steve keens, whimpers uncontrolled rolling out of his lips. And you time your hand encircling and tightening against his taut balls as you bite down on his neck, your lips suck on the tender flesh of his neck, suck and bite on a tender point on his neck.

And Steve? fuck

Steve's mind goes blank.

No thoughts, no words, nothing.

Just pleasure.

White, hot, blinding pleasure.

He feels it deep within him, a feeling like hot, melted honey so visceral it moves along from his center to spread all over him in intense waves.

In a haze, he's aware his thighs have begun to shake, his sartorius muscle clenching and rippling underneath his skin as the feeling begs to claw out of bones and release.

He's keening, hot moans and whimpers flowing through his lips in a steady flow. You can feel the sounds before you hear them, your lips still pressed to the length of throat.

Both of his arms are now gripping your hips hard, urging you closer to him. He wants– no, needs you closer. There's some part kf him that feels like he can't handle anything else, that if you were to repeat the same movements you've just done, of you were to press down on that spot along his tip, he might just go insane. Maybe lose all cognitive ability as your constant infliction of pleasure fries his nerve endings.

But these thoughts don't last, nerves frayed and through barely able to keep grip as your hands continue to jerk him quick8and quicker, unaware of how intensely you've just wrecked him.

— it's quiet and yet he can't think.

"Please," a voice he doesn't even register as his own, "please, baby, I lov- fuck, love you —oh – fuck, oh, honey–"

He's not sure what words he's saying, not even sure if he's speaking or thinking them, but the desired effect comes anyway.

The precum on your fingers help keep your movements quick, and you continue to move your fingers up and down as your other hand massages his balls.

On one particularly hard jerk, his legs twitchs beneath you, resulting in his thigh rubbing hard against your center, brushing your clit the way you've been abstaining of doing for the past god knows how long now.

shit, you might just come from this slight touch. You hadn't even realised how hot and wet you've become over the duration of pleasuring your boyfriend.

He's always been so hot to you (to everyone really, if his reputation so implies), and one look from him would've been enough to have your underwear ruined.

But, god, he's given more than just a look. He's given you his pleasure, his bare form against yours – he's given you his moans and mewls, his vulnerability. He's given you full control over his body and his pleasure – hadn't even tried once to flip you over and switch roles (not that he'd even be able to with how week in the knees you've rendered him)

So, how can you not be all hot and bothered by this? by the lascivious site of him beneath you as he desperate and weak cries fill the room around you?

Without meaning to, your hips rock against his thighs, moving in tandem with the rhythm you've set with your hand against his cock.

The feel of your dripping centre against him weakens him further, his eyes closed and head burying in the pillow. To know that his pleasure affects you that much makes his cock twitch in your fingers, makes his heart swell with an affection that is so foreign to him.

He's felt it before with you, with his tongue on your center and fingers buried deep – he's cum many times as he ate you out, unable to control himself from letting go as your pretty sounds spurred him on.

But it feels weird for the script to flip, for his immense pleasure be reason for your own, even as you remain untouched above him.

Your lips move from one spot on his neck to the other, biting and sucking as you go, feeling the vibrations of his throat down to even your core as you steadily grind yourself back and forth along the thick expanse of his muscular thighs – feeling every bulge of his muscles, every twitch of his form against the folds of your pussy, the curve of your clitoris.

His voice gruff and broken as he whimpers for you.

And despite the oath you took to only focus on him tonight, you can't stop your hips from moving even faster, motivated by lewd noise he makes.

You are human after all, and the intimacy of the atmosphere around you can't be ignored. The sight of his heaving chest gone red from blush of pleasure tempts you to feel him against your skin – to feel more of him as you make him (and yourself) cum.

You can feel it now, the shift in the atmosphere as your fingers keep moving and your hips keep rocking – it's all coming to a crescendo.

Maybe when your done milking him till you're both reasonably satisfied, you'll kiss him stupid as he recovers and then ride him till he's coming inside of you — maybe he'll sound even prettier then, cock deep in your cunt as you bounce up and down the length of him. You'll kiss his pretty neck all over then, too, feel the whimpers as they form his throat and kiss his lips as he moans for you.

or maybe you'll let yourself go now, core molten against his thighs as he cums for you spurt after spurt.

You can already feel yourself growing weak and weightless with euphoria, filled with a fever-like weakness that pulls you lower and lower to the throes of passion.

Before you can register your movements, you're pulling your hands away from Steve and ripping his shirt that still on your body off you.

The moment of reprieve, or perhaps frustration, shocks Steve, and he mewls against your throat for more.

"so close, bab– oh god–" his pleas are cut short as your hands resume their earlier position, moving faster and harsher now, more determined to get him to his high before you lose it yourself.

Your thumb drags over his slit and down to his pleasure points, up and down gripping the base. Up and down and a squeeze to his balls. Faster, gentler, more – Steve can't think, can't hold it together anymore. It's too much, please, oh please– too much yet he needs more, needs that final push to euphoria. Needs it, fuck– wants it and can't take anymore.

You lean down to kiss him on the lips again, and your nipples bush against his chest – the feeling making you both keen against each other. The soft curve of your breasts rubs against the peaks of nipples. Each rock of your hips against his thigh moving your body against him, electrifying touches all over his body and your chest rubs against his.

You bite his lips as you kiss, taking his plush bottom lip between your own and awarding it a slight tug, before letting go and soothing his tender lips with your lips.

You pull back a moment to admire your handiwork. His lips are red and kiss-bruised. His eyes are heavy lidded and you can see the dreamy and half-present look in the crescents of his eyes. He pants against your lips and tilts his head upward to kiss your lips and intertwine your tongue with his own. You watch his eyes fully close before your own do and you kiss him back.

And it appears that Steve's torture has gotten the best of him, because beneath you his chest hitches as his back begins to arch the way it always does before he cums. The sounds escaping his throat and vibrating against your lips are sporadic and disjointed. He's less kissing you now, more letting you kiss and suck at his parted lips.

His muscle tense and twitch against you, and you know all you need to do is just give him a little more, an extra nudge, and he'll topple over.

Your thumb presses against his slit as you jerk him, and your other hand massages and circles his balls just a tad bit harder.

And Steve feels himself fall.

He's not sure if the sounds he hears are his own or yours — pitches and tones melting into one, sounds coming in and out of focus as his eyes roll back and his body breaks out into tremors.

The feeling is intense, hot and burning and too much, spreading from his cock to his guts to his chest and head.

Steve shakes beneath you, body vibrating as shot after shot of hot cum fills your fist and releases over your hands and onto the sheets.

His abdominal muscles twitch as you milk him for all he's worth, your hands continuing to move as he experiences his high. Your hips rock harder and harder against his thighs, clit brushing faster as your wetness soaks his thighs.

You only slow your hand when Steve begins to thrash beneath you, his silent scream turning to aching cries.

"Steve," you moan against his lips as you rock harder, electricity filling you as your head begins to buzz and your eyes roll.

"Fuck," his whisper is quiet and rough with use, "cum for me, baby, come on," his hands, despite weak with euphoria, grip your hips with all his might to help rock your hips faster against him. "cum, honey. I love you– come on."

Steve, despite barely able to even blink his eyes open or keep his head straight, moves a hand to the back of your head to bring you closer, granting you the same intimacy you'd given him for his own orgasm.

He pulls your face to his lips, biting your plush lips in the same manner you did to his lips moments prior.

Despite the fact that Steve's brain is so euphoria-riddled that everything he experiences feels as if through a haze, he's completely and acutely in tune to your pleasure – to the hitch in your throat as your whimpers grow breathier, to the jerk of your hips against him, to how you seem to burrow yourself closer to him as you approach your own high.

Desperate and nerves frazzled to meet your own high, your hand moves to your own centre.

You bow your back as you begin to circle your clit, using Steve's sticky cum to intensify the feeling.

As your hand moves, Steve pulls back from kissing your neck, tilting his head to watch you make yourself cum with his own spend.

"oh, steve– I love you, fuck, baby–gonna cum fo'you," your words are just ramblings, breathless and desperate as you near your high.

A whimper releases from his throat as he watches your fingers circle your clit – one, two, three tugs before your body tips forward, tremors and twitches racking through your body. Your front presses against your boyfriend's chest as soft, gentle pressure fills your core and your body, leaving you weightless and pliant in the aftermath.

Those gentle waves of euphoria render you speechless against Steve, your limbs are jelly as you melt against your lover.

If Steve wasn't so spent, if his head wasn't already far too high in the clouds of venus, he might've gotten hard all over again and fucked the mix of yours and his cum deeper into your cunt.

But that'll wait, maybe a few minutes, or an hour – maybe...

His eyes are already closing.

Bone-deep euphoria induced exhaustion pulls him deep into a restful slumber.

He'll clean you both up later. You know he'll repay the pleasure you've given him with a hundred acts of care and praise. But for now you'll let him pull you down again him, let him bask in the intoxicating feeling of intimacy that comes after your love making. He settles you close, his hips against your own as you lay over like a weighted blanket.

A soft, comforting, supple blanket.

His hands fumble next to him as he reaches for the tissue box on his bedside and hands you one to wipe your fingers, eyes still closed. The rest of you can be cleaned...later, in the shower, or with his tongue; he'll decide later.

Right now, he just needs you against him.

As a final act of love before he's out, his hand moves to the back of your head and kisses your lips one last time, slow and tender, and another against each eyelid, before coming back again to your lips.

"Steve..." you break the kiss to whisper against his lips, "you gotta let me take care of you often." your words barely even a slur. Despite your love-drunk state and sensitivity, you already know that you want a repeat of this night; of the gratifying feeling as you give your lover pleasure.

Before you can respond to his weak chuckle, you're both out like light, his arms wrapped tight against you as yours rest around his neck, keeping him close to you as you bask in the post-euphoria quiet intimacy.

Like it? >> Give this a go

A/N – wasn't really sure how to end this. It's been almost two years since I've written anything at all so it feels great to get back into it. Feel like I've forgotten how to describe things??? but oh well Feedback is always wanted and appreciated

Requests are open <3

[chaepink]

You're pretty when you cry | sub!kageyama tobio

wc: 410+ words | masterlist

dom!reader, crying (obviously), begging, pegging, gn!reader (though the use of a strap is mentioned)

note : kudos to that one anon who gave me this idea

"Please please please please-"

"aww it seems like baby boy can't cum." You fake pout, watching as a sob wracks through his body. Kageyama rides your strap with alarming speed as you lay back on your elbows.

He's so so close. So close he can almost feel it. But he can't reach it. He knows he can't. Not without you.

Tears streak down his face as he looks at you with teary, pleading eyes, and oh do you love it when he cries. He's such a pretty crier and it made you want to ruin him just to see tears flow down his face.

"[Name] p-please I-I can't-" You coo at him and caress his cheek as another tear streaks his face. You brush away streaks of his hair that are sticking to his face. "You can't what, baby? go on, tell me."

He sniffs quietly as the jumping slows down. "I-i can't cum.." A blush spreads on his already red face as he looks away shyly. "not without you."

"What's that baby? Can't hear you, you gotta speak louder." He whines at you, knowing full well you heard it perfectly fine.

"i-i can't-" He pauses, seeing how innocently you're looking at him. It's all a facade, he knows that. He knows you want to see him beg for it. "J-Just... Just fuck me please.." A devilish grin makes its way onto your face. Finally, you cracked his bratty demeanor.

"There you go, baby. All you had to do was ask me and I would've helped you. But you had to act like a brat today, didn't you?" He nods his head quietly, pouting at you.

Grabbing his hips, you lift him up quite easily and slam him down, making a mewl leave him at the sudden pleasure. He curses silently as you set the pace to one that's quick, yet brutal. One that hit all the good spots within him. One that makes him scream at the pleasure to the point his throat is raw and his voice is almost gone.

Soon enough, he's begging for release, and tears brim his eyes. And they're almost about to fall.

"Go on baby. You look so so pretty when you cry."

And he does. He cries from the praise, the overwhelming pleasure he's feeling, and just because you urged him to. His eyes roll back and he sticks out his tongue for you. He looks absolutely divine like this; all red, teary, and dumb. All for you.

ty for reading to the end! ❤ - chaepink

╰┈➤ masterlist | rules

[maiko-san]

The Chain + TP! Reader (1/?)

Linked Universe belongs to Jojo

Part 2 >

Plot : You are Twilight's childhood best friend, who like Twilight can turn into an animal, that is a crow. You just happen to follow Twilight into the portal in your crow form and meet the Chain.

( Fem Reader )

You and Link have been friends ever since you were kids, always went on adventures together. After the event of Twilight, Link had gone out on a quest to find Twilight Realm, to find Midna and usually he brings you along with him but this time he didn't.

You asked him why, 'It's too dangerous, (N/n). I don't want you to get hurt....' he said. You know he cares about you...but you know how to protect yourself. He has been acting differently, as if he's hiding something from you.

.

.

"I'll be going now, (N/n)" Link said, holding your hands. "Be careful, Link" you give him a smile as Link returns the smile of his own before pulling you into a hug. He takes a deep breath, burying his face into your soft hair and taking in your scent before pulling away. "Wait, before you go!" you said, grabbing his face and kiss his cheek.

This causes Link to turn red from embarrassment, "What's a hero without his good luck kiss?" you smile. Link coughs lightly as he plants a kiss on your forehead, "Love you" he whispered in your ears. NEIGH! Both of you hear a whining and turns to see Epona sticking her head through the window, "You want one too, girl?" you questioned. The chestnut horse nods as you give a kiss on her forehead. "There you go, my lovely" you said, rubbing your cheek against her.

Link smiles at the interaction as he opens the house, "Next time, I'll be staying home for a few days" he said, caressing your cheek before mounting Epona's back.

"Bye!" you said, waving at them as you watch Link rides away. As he disappears around the corner, you quickly go to your room and take out your drawstring bag.

"I'm going to follow him, whether he likes it— or not!" you said. You open the door and close it behind you, making sure to lock it. You make a sprint and jump, your body shifts and turns into a crow. Your bag shrinks along to make it easier for you to carry it on your back. It was a gift from Midna which she enchanted so it can shrink whenever you turn into a crow.

You fly high up in the sky to locate Link, it takes you a while to spot him and you finally see him along with....

A group of men.

You land on the tree branches and hide away from view, you observe the situation and you were shocked. 'Why...why do they look almost like him?!' you thought. All of them almost look alike, blue eyes, blonde hair well it's in different tones but the face!

Are they his brothers? Distant relatives. No wait— both of you grow up together and there's no way he has relatives. If he does, he would tell you!

'Doppelgangers?!' you gasped in your mind. Oh wait— he had told you about meeting people during his adventures. Are they the ones he was talking about?

You couldn't hear what they're saying but they're heading in the same direction. You follow them and make sure you check the wind's direction to avoid Link to pick up your scent.

The group stops as you perch on a branch, your eyes widen at the sight of a large swirling portal.

'Is this why he doesn't let me come?' you thought, it looks dangerous and your crow instinct tells you to stay away from it. You watch as they enter the portal one by one, the last one was a man in armour and has a scar over his right eye. He shares the most resemblance to Link.

He checks his surroundings as if making sure nobody is following before entering the portal. You wait a moment before you dive into the portal, you close your eyes and go through. You feel the breeze hit your feathers, you slowly open your eyes and see that you're no longer Faron Woods but instead an unfamiliar one.

'Where am I?' you thought. 'Urgh...I feel sick all the sudden' you cover your beak with your wing to hold back your breakfast.

"It feels great to be back" a voice said, you panic a little and quickly jump into a nearby bush. You take a peek to see the group up close, "Since we're at my place, lets gear up and start our search for Shadow" said the one in multi coloured tunic. "I want to pay my grandfather a visit before we go" he said. The group walks away and you quickly fly after them, you're not risking getting lost in an unknown place.

You follow the group from above and you can see a small house ahead, yet again you hide in the trees and watch them enter the house but others decide to stay outside and wait.

That would be your Link, a blonde with pink shades, a young boy, a dirty blonde with white cape and a man with a blue scarf.

"So, Twilight. What took you so long anyways?" questioned the one with the blue scarf. "I went to fetch some stuff from my house and talk to my friends" Twilight said. So, they called him Twilight instead of Link? Weird....

"Oh really? Then, what's that on your cheek then?" pinky said with a smirk on his lips. Twilight's hand touches the cheek and turns to look at the window to see lipstick on his cheek.

Twilight blush lightly, "Oooh~ our rancher has a special someone~" teases the scarf boy. "Wait what—really?!" gasped the little boy as he stared up at Twilight. "Do tell why you are keeping a maiden all to yourself, hm?" he smirked. "Oh hush it, Wars." Twilight said. "Haha, come on guys, stop teasing the rancher" smiles the one with the cape.

You hold back a snort as they tease Link or Twilight about his love life with you. The others come out from the house, "What's with the ruckus?" questioned the one in armour.

"Hey, Time! Guess what! Our rancher here has a girlfriend!" Warrior said, bringing Twilight in a headlock, pointing the lipstick mark on his cheek. "Oh—" Time was surprised and gave the rancher a teasing smile. "Malon would be delighted if she hears this" he said.

"Time!" Twilight shouted, face now burning from embarrassment. You watch the men laugh wholeheartedly, causing you to smile at it.

[ End of part ]

[poeghoul]

hard times iii.

in which they're far too drawn to each other.

word count: 7,852 warnings: mentions of drug usage and abuse, unwanted advances, angst, possessiveness authors note: not proofread. only a few parts left to this series </3 im far too attached to them.

masterlist

part one part two

Y/n made her way out of the diner, the new waiter, Ross, following close behind her. “It’s not too bad, I promise. You’ll get the hang of it soon,” she turned to face him, smiling to try and relieve his anxiety. The poor boy had spilled orange juice all over his black sweater, the thick fabric sticking to his chest, and still slightly damp. “Plus you’ll be taking the night shift and barely anyone comes in.”

He exhaled through his mouth, raising his eyebrows at her, “so that means shit tips, huh?” he joked at her. She pulled her lips into her mouth, hesitant to answer, and when she went to challenge his assumption, he cut her off. “Fuck, really? Shit, I’m fucked,” running a hand through his hair, he shook his head. She pursed her lips at him.

“It’s not awful, I swear. And you’re new, so,” she trailed off, not entirely knowing what to say to the blue eyed boy. “They always start the newbies off at night,” the end of her sentence sounded more like a question, and he just smirked at her and tilted his head to the side. 

“You’re shit at making people feel better, you know that?” he grinned at her, pulling his bottom lip in between his teeth, shaking his head at her. She grinned at him, exhaling a laugh through her nose. “Ya need a ride or anything?”

“Mm, no I have a ride already, thank you though,” she gestured to the man standing next to the black SUV behind her. A ‘shit’ coming from the boy in front of her. “Yeah,” she pursed her lips. Ever since the first night Jax had picked her up, everyone who worked at the diner bombarded her with a million questions anytime the ‘mystery’ man stood in front of the building; how’d you score that, who is he, how do you know him, etc. 

“No offense, but how the fuck are you able to drive that? Or have someone drive you in that,” he stared at her, a befuddled look graced his face. 

She tucked her bottom lip in between her teeth for a second, his gaze switching from her eyes to her lips and back once the flesh was released, “um, a friend of mine kinda owes me a favor and this is how he’s paying me back,” she shrugged, her right arm coming up to rub her left, an anxious habit.

A humorless laugh escaped him, “I will never ask for a favor if this is what you’re expecting in return,” he gestured to the car. “I’ll see you in the morning, y/n,” he patted her shoulder before running his hand down her arm, barely even touching the jacket covered skin, and grazed her hand for a moment longer than he should’ve. She blushed from the action, taking in a sharp breath before nodding and bidding him goodbye. 

They parted ways; Ross walking to a beat up ‘99 Honda Civic hatchback, and y/n to her (Harry’s) personal chauffeur’s car. She sent a smile to Jax before wrapping her arms around his torso, squishing her face into his chest (he was significantly taller than her, but not as tall as Harry). 

“Hey, sweetpea,” he greeted her, she felt the vibrations rumble through his chest. He wrapped his arms around her, a hand coming up to caress the back of her head and a gentle kiss was placed on the crown of her head. “Wanna tell me who that was?” he pulled back to wink at her, she just rolled her eyes unwrapping her arms and crossing them over her chest and he opened the door for her, 

“That was Ross, he’s the new waiter I told you about. Not very good though,” she stepped up into the backseat and sat her bag down on the seat next to her. A few weeks ago, she’d be getting in the backseat hoping Harry would greet her with an apology or an explanation. Now, she’d be surprised to even smell Harry’s lingering cologne. He’s been avoiding her since the last time he came to her apartment. No calls, no texts, no interactions whatsoever. 

Jax laughed, closing the door before running around the back of the car and hopping in the front seat. His eyes met hers in the rearview mirror, “that bad, huh?” Her eyes widened and she nodded, her mouth agape. 

“I’ve never met anyone that uncoordinated, I swear. He’s great with the customers, he really is, he just can’t balance a tray to save his life,” she sighed, “Dan put a lot of faith in me, too, which makes it worse. Like, I can’t just magically make someone a great waiter, especially if this is their first waiting job.”

“That’s rough, sweetpea, I’m sorry.” 

“Is it bad I don’t think he’ll last long?” sympathy laced her tone. 

“Not at all, and from the sounds of it, that seems likely,” he shrugged one shoulder and started the car. Pushing the parking brake down, he shifted into reverse before pulling out of the parking lot and on to the main street leading to her studio. 

“Yeah,” she pulled her lips into her mouth, looking out the window. She had switched to the morning shift, paranoia suffocating her every night making her shifts much harder to get through without choking on her anxiety. And because no one else was willing to take the night shift, they had to hire another waiter. And apparently, for god knows why, they just had to hire one with no experience. And just had to make y/n train him. A form of punishment, she’s sure. “How was your day?” she looked back to him, eyes trained on his side profile. 

“Mm, fine. Uneventful as normal. Just waited around for,” he met her eyes in the rearview, “Mr. Styles,” she looked down at her hands, picking at her over bitten cuticles, dried blood staining her nail beds. “He had another meeting with Mr. Horan,” she nodded slowly. Niall hadn’t even come into the diner. They both had disappeared. 

The drive was short, it always was. Soon enough, she was thanking him, like usual, and running up the stairs to her apartment. Unlocking the door, she could hear the bells she had attached to the door handle on the inside sing loudly. It was annoying, but with where her mind had been the past month, she deemed it necessary. Kicking her shoes off, she plopped on her chair, rolling her neck from side to side trying to alleviate the tension. 

After her third morning shift, she had started to regret asking to be taken off nights, she had no clue what to do in the middle of the afternoon. When she’d get off around ten, she would come home and get ready for bed and watch a show or scroll through tiktok until she’d be half asleep with the phone slipping from her grasp. It was a routine she’d been used to for about eight months, but developing new routines and sticking to them was not her strong suit. 

Getting off this early highlighted how alone she felt. It got dark around 4:30 and winter was creeping in. Her seasonal depression started to settle in, making a home in the cavity of her chest. 

+++

Harry sat across from Niall in his home office, sitting back in his expensive Italian leather chair with his leg crossed over his knee. He rarely ever hosted meetings in his home, never trusting anyone enough to invite them in, but Niall was entirely different. He managed to snake his way into Harry’s life; calling and texting him at all hours of the day, inviting him to attend church with his wife and two daughters or out to play a game of golf. Harry was suspicious about the amount of communication and invitations, but learned that Niall was one of the friendliest men he’d ever come across, and eventually accepted an invitation to a game of golf. That was entirely a bad idea, however, since Niall was practically glued to Harry’s side ever since. 

He had even told him about what happened with y/n, to which Niall prompted him to just come clean to her about how he felt. But of course, it wasn’t that simple. If it was, Harry would’ve done that the moment he saw his sweet girl shed a tear. They never spoke about it after Harry yelled at Niall to stop meddling. 

“Who do you think did it?” Harry asked the blue eyed brunette, referring to a shootout that happened at a Motel 6 twentyseven miles from where they were meeting. Motel 6’s were notorious for drug dealings, though Harry never dared to step foot near one. 

Niall shrugged, “could’ve been anyone, really. But I’m sure it had something to do with Justus. He’s always down there, creepin’ around,” a scowl graced his gentle face. 

Harry brought his fingers to rest on his mouth, tapping a finger on the skin above his lip and raising an eyebrow at the man's theory, “Hm, Justus, aye?” Niall nodded. “ ‘S a possibility, he loves his motels. Who else could’ve been down there, though? Couldn’t have just been a deal gone wrong, he had to have stepped on someone’s toes.”

“Well, it-” Niall cut himself off, perking up as he put the pieces together in his head, “Payne. It was fucking Payne, god that prickhead.”

“Niall, that name holds no significance with me, who is that?” 

“Liam Payne,” Niall answered, leaning forward, “terrible prices, terrible stock, always lacing whatever he’s able to get his hands on to sell for less,” Harry scoffed, shaking his head. “Laced a batch of coke with fent and killed twelve people but of course, being who he is, no one ever ratted him out. Hells gonna swallow him whole rightfully so.”

“Hm,” Harry hummed out, “let’s hope he makes his way up here,” a grin took over his features. Niall stared at him in confusion. 

“Why’s that? Don’t want him anywhere near me, if ‘m bein honest.”

“Well, you won’t have to deal with him. I’ll happily take care of him.” 

Niall gulped, “I don’t know Harry, he’s shitty but,” he paused, trying to think of the right phrasing, “powerful. Very powerful.”

Harry’s grin widened, the skin around his eyes wrinkling, “and I’m not?” he retorted. Niall shook his head, chuckling, knowing where Harry was headed. “Like I said, I’ll happily take care of him.”

“Devious bastard.”

Niall and Harry said their goodbyes, one of Harry’s men walking him out. Harry sat in his office, alone again. He sat back in his chair, messing with the H and S rings on his left hand, his mind wandering to his little lamb, whom he hadn’t seen in far too long. He wondered if she thought of him, wondered if her thumb ever hovered over the call button under his name in her contacts like he had done with her. She consumed his thoughts daily. He’d ask Jax about how her day went and why she switched to the morning shift, to which Jax couldn’t answer truthfully as he didn’t even know. 

Papers scattered the desk in front of him, numbers, dollar signs and crossed out names on nearly every page. The amount of clutter on the desk made him restless, unable to think straight, but he couldn’t bring himself to organize it in any way. He’d begin to put things away but would quickly get overwhelmed with the amount of shit he had to file away. So, he just stared at the piles, his mind occupied by the girl he didn’t get a chance to know, by his own fault. 

He reached into his jacket pocket, reading the time, 4:37 pm, and his notifications, looking for one in particular. 

Jax D.

She’s home safe, area secured.

A small smile graced his lips, happy she was home safe and unharmed. He wished she would’ve told him instead, however. Wishing to hear the words fall from her pretty pink lips. He tapped at the screen to respond. 

Harry:

Good. Thank you. 

He set his phone down, his heart aching in his chest, missing his sweet little lamb. 

+++

“What are you doing tonight?” Ross asked y/n as she unlocked the front doors for the pair, she looked at him over her shoulder as she pulled the door open.

“Mm, probably nothing, I work tomorrow morning so I don’t really wanna do much,” she let him walk in before her, following him inside before locking the door behind them. “Why, what’s up?” she quirked an eyebrow at him.

“Just curious, damn,” he held his hands up in surrender, she rolled her eyes and laughed at him. 

“Well, why are you curious?” The two made their way into the back room, setting their stuff in their designated lockers. She sat down on the bench, retying the shoelace that had come undone. He sat in front of her, legs on either side of the bench. 

“Well, I was gonna see if you wanted to do something cause I’m off tomorrow and I assumed you were too so,” he shrugged, staring at her as she sat across from him.

She looked up at him, mouth slightly agape. “Oh,” she nodded slowly. “What were you thinking?”

“What?”

She rolled her eyes at him, “what did you wanna do?”

“Oh, I’m dumb, I thought you meant, like, what are you thinking,” he said in a scolding tone, she laughed. “But whatever you wanna do, we can see a movie or something.”

She nodded her head slowly, contemplating the idea. It wouldn’t be bad, she could get a blue and red icee, but she didn’t want to give up her daily alone time (with working in the service industry, she looked forward to that very much needed time). But with how melancholy she’d been feeling lately, the alone time became very depressing after an hour. 

“I’m down,” she smiled at him, a dimple cutting into her cheek. “What do you wanna see? The new Priscilla movie is out, I really wanna see that but we don’t have to watch that if you don’t want to,” she rambled. 

“That’s Elvis’ wife right?” She nodded, “I love Elvis,” she cringed. She had a deep hatred for him and his stupid voice and stupid hair. She vowed to never step foot in Vegas because of him. “Let’s do it. Check the times, do you wanna go after work so you’re not staying out too late?” 

“Oh yeah that’s actually perfect.”

He grinned back at her, “perfect. It’s a date.”

He got up before she had the chance to correct him; it was absolutely not a date. 

+++

Harry sat on the edge of his bed, buttoning up a crisp white shirt. He had returned home from his morning jog and worked out for a little over two hours before getting in the shower and readying himself for the day. No meetings planned, which he was thankful for. He just had to foresee a shipment coming in from Arizona, some of the finest coke he had ever seen was set to come in today and he didn’t trust anyone enough to not tamper with the sweet white powder. Jax, Daniel and Lee met him in the hallway, ready to take him to the warehouse, while the rest of his men were already on their way. 

“Morning, Mr. Styles,” one of the burly men greeted him, Harry didn’t bother to respond to the greeting, instead looking to Jax to inquire about his angel. 

“She was dropped off at 5:45 this morning, I watched her go inside with the new waiter. She texted me she doesn’t need a ride home but I’ll still check the area out when she’s set to be off,” Harry’s neck almost snapped with the way he turned so quickly.

“What? Did she say why she doesn’t need a ride home?”

Jax shook his head, “She didn’t, sir.”

“Show me the texts,” he stopped in his tracks, his hand reaching out, waiting for the phone to be placed in his palm. Jax hesitated. Harry narrowed his eyes at him becoming impatient. “Show me the texts, now.” Jax reached into his jacket pocket to pull out his phone and tapped on the screen before handing it over to Harry. 

Y/n 🐇☁️

Ross said he can give me a ride today:) love u see u in the morning

Harry reread the message four times over, his heart caught in his throat. He turned the screen off and gave the phone back to Jax, turning on his heel to walk out to the car. He settled in the backseat, Lee next to him, while Jax and Daniel sat in the front. 

He sat staring out the window, the car not even moving yet. His breathing rapid, his heartbeat similar to one of a rabbit getting caught in the grip of a hawk. 

He broke the uncomfortable silence, “Is Ross the new waiter?” Jax nodded, nonverbal. “He seems interested in her?” Again, the man nodded, not daring to say anything more thinking it would just piss him off further. But Harry wasn’t angry, he was more hurt than anything. He knew he had no right to be upset in any way, afterall he walked out on her, but it still didn’t sit well with him. “What time is she set to be off today?” He turned, looking at the man in the passenger seat. 

“Scheduled off at 2:30, but depends on if she’s finished with her tables. She's still training the new waiter so it could be longer than that. She said he’s not very good,” Jax threw the last bit in there to appease Harry. It worked. 

“You’ll switch cars for the day, you can take the beemer, I want to see her make it home safe.”

“Yes, Mr. Styles.”

+++

Y/n and Ross made their way out of the diner, headed to his beat up little car (he swore it was the coolest “ride” and that the ladies “loved” it). He would take y/n home so she could change and lend him one of her oversized shirts, offering him that after they made the plan to go right after work thinking he’d be uncomfortable in a food stained sweater. He declined the offer at first but after he spilled a copious amount of coffee and syrup on him, he asked if it was still on the table.

Harry and Jax sat in the heavily tinted Beemer watching the pair as they walked out of the double doors and into the piece of shit, as Harry put it. He was fuming, his foot tapping against the carpeted mats of the car as he clenched his jaw, Jax thought he was closing to breaking a few teeth or the mandible all together. The two men followed them as they made their way to y/n’s. 

Harry hadn’t been in this area in a week's time; he had been following Jax in that very car, watching to make sure she was actually making it safe to her little home.

He watched as he parked his car on the street, and watched as they walked up the stairs and stood at the door for him to unlock it. That made him even more angry, how was she so comfortable with a man she barely knew to allow him in her apartment? 

The chiming of bells rang through her apartment as she pushed open the door. 

“Bells?”

She nodded, “I’m a girl living alone, kinda a necessity,” she shrugged, setting her keys down. “Thirsty?” He shook his head. 

“Ya know something’s really gotta be done about that.” She looked at him, a confounded look on her face. 

“What?”

“Like women are scared to live alone, that’s, like, really shitty. And pads and tampons should be free.” She stared at him, her head cocked to the side before shaking her head and approaching her dresser. 

“I have a few sweaters you can borrow too if you’re cold,” she reached into her pajama drawer and pulled out an old Jimi Hendrix shirt she had purchased at a record store from her hometown years ago. The neckline was fraying and the graphic design was barely dark enough to where it was easy to make out.  

“Yeah, I’ll take one if that's alright,” he smiled at her, holding the t-shirt up in front of him. “Do you actually like Hendrix or is this just like a hand-me-down?” 

She rolled her eyes, going through the bin of sweaters she had, trying to find one that would actually fit his lanky, but tall, frame. “Yes, I actually like him, asshat. I have Are You Experienced on vinyl,” she nodded her head to the turntable that sat in the corner, near her bathroom door. A collection of vinyl growing dust sat on the bottom shelf of the stand it sat on. 

“Damn my bad, cupcake.” She hated that. She hated how he called her ‘cupcake’ or ‘sweetie’. She hated how it sounded, hated how it made her feel, hated how degrading it was. She handed him a plain gray sweater, saying nothing, not making eye contact. “Thanks,” he took it from her, his hand grazing hers in an unnecessary manner. Without warning, he pulled his shirt over his head and fumbled with the t-shirt she had handed him. He was just standing in her room basically half naked. 

“Oh,” she said, turning around and facing the opposite of him. He laughed from behind her. She wished she had chosen her alone time. Or at least asked to see the movie later in the day as she was going on nine hours of being with the boy. 

“I’m decent now.” She turned to face her dresser again, filing through her shirt drawer looking for a long sleeve to wear under her sweater. Even with the chilly fall weather, movie theaters cranked their ac all the way up. “I’m gonna change in the bathroom,” she shut the door after getting the last word of her sentence out, thankful to have a moment to herself. 

While she was undressing her upper half, she heard a pounding on the door, the bells clanking against the wood. “Hey are you okay?” she shouted.

“Yeah,” he yelled back to her, “there’s some guy at your door, should I open it?”

Some guy? She couldn’t think of anyone who would drop by randomly on a Tuesday afternoon, other than Jax but he knew she didn’t need a ride so it couldn’t have been him, right? 

“Gimme a sec,” she tugged her long sleeve over her head and opened the bathroom door, pulling her hair out of the neckline. 

She covered the eyehole for a moment before briefly looking into it, but someone was covering the other side of it. She glanced back at Ross, shrugging her shoulders, silently asking what she should do. 

“Here, I got it,” he approached her and she stepped back to give him some space. He cracked the door open slightly, just enough space for his head to be visible from the other side. “Hey can I help you?” 

The door was pushed open, Ross groaning at the force from the man on the other side. Harry stomped his way in the apartment, looking around the space before his eyes landed on her. His gaze softened. He didn’t say anything. Neither did she. 

“Dude, you can just fucking come into someones house man,” Ross said from behind him. Harry rolled his eyes, turning to face the significantly smaller boy. 

“Don’t fucking call me dude, who the fuck are you?” Harry yelled as he approached him, towering over him and backing him into the wall.

Ross swallowed, his back hitting the brick wall. “I-uh, who are you?” he retorted, Harry chuckled. 

“What are you doing here?” y/n spoke up, taking a step closer to him. Harry turned, locking eyes with her again. 

He didn’t have an explanation that didn’t make him sound insanely jealous and possessive of someone who wasn’t even his. “I, y/n, I just wanted to make sure you were safe. I’m sorry.”

“Can we go outside for a second?” Harry nodded, his hand on the doorknob waiting for her to come with him. He closed the door behind him. She didn’t say anything, a sad look on her face.

Harry’s hand twitched beside him, wanting so desperately to pull her into him to hold her or even to touch her cheek again. She poked at the chipped nail polish on her nails. 

“I still haven’t made any banana bread,” she broke the silence. A smile made a home on Harry's lips. 

“Hmm, that’s exactly why I came, how’d you know?” she smiled up at him, a gleam in her eyes. Harry’s smile wavered. His hands twitched again, his subconscious begging him to run, begging him to stay far away from the sweet angel that stood in front of him. 

“ ‘S just a guess,” her head dipped down again, her arms coming to wrap around her torso as the autumn air nipped away at her. 

They stood in silence for a moment, none of the two knowing what to say after weeks of no contact. Harry felt he couldn’t ask her about the morning shift or about the things Jax has told him about her life recently; he wasn’t invited into that part. Rather, he uninvited himself to that part of her life when he sent he Jaxs information then proceeded to go back and forth with blocking and unblocking her number. 

“We’re going to see Priscilla, it starts pretty soon.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah.” 

“Didn’t know you were an Elvis fan.”

“I’m not,” she was quick to disprove the claim, “it’s not about him, it’s about his child bride.” Harry chuckled. 

“Hm, I’m not too fond of the ‘Viva Las Vegas’ bastard either,” she smiled, wryly. “I’ll head out then, I hope you enjoy your night,” he turned on his heel, she followed behind him, meeting him at the stairs.

“Harry,” he turned, surprised with how close she was. “If you’d like, um, you can come over after I get home.”

“I’d love to,” he grinned at her. 

“Harry?” They were so close to each other. 

“Yes?”

“You promise you’ll come back?” His heart broke, practically shattered at that. He shook his head fervently. 

“Yes. Yes, y/n, I’ll come back once you tell me to.”

“I’ll see you soon, Harry.”

“I’ll see you soon, y/n.”

Harry descended down the stairs, she stayed in her spot, peering over the railing to watch him walk away. She hoped he’d keep his promise. The front door to her apartment creaked, Ross peeking his head out, warily. 

“He gone?” she nodded, heading back into her space. “Who was that? He’s scary as shit, cupcake. How do you know him?” he asked, bewildered by the mysterious man who practically burst into her home. 

“Ya know that friend who owes me a favor?” He nodded. “That’s him. He’s kinda temperamental, I’m sorry,” a pursed smile was sent to him as an apologetic gesture. 

“Kinda is an understatement, sweetheart.” There it was again. A nickname coated in degradation. One she hated coming from him, but if Harry or Jax had said it, it would absolutely be and feel different. 

“Are you ready to go, I’m sure we’re gonna miss all the trailers and you know what’ll happen if I don’t get my blue and red Icee.” she joked. 

“First, I truly doubt something bad is going to happen to the county of Placerville and second its blue raspberry and cherry. Not blue, not red.” She dismissed him with a wave of her hand. 

“Yeah whatever, let’s go dipshit.” His laugh boomed through the room as she picked her keys off the counter. 

+++

Y/n was sobbing. Her heart caught in her throat as Elvis was forcing Priscilla to pack a bag to take to her parents after she confronted him about finding a love note in his jacket pocket. He was terrifying and the movie just reinforced how poorly she thought of the beloved singer. 

A hand grazed her knee, finding a place on her thigh. She was stunned, not daring to move her leg in any way. The thumb moving from side to side, a reassuring gesture, sure, but coming from someone she didn’t think of in any way other than a coworker; it was unwanted, unjustified. She swallowed back the acid building in her throat and reached for her watered down Icee, sipping on the cool liquid. She still hadn’t moved the hand and she wouldn’t for the remainder of the film, far too scared of potential consequences.  

A flood of relief washed over her when the movie ended and the lights returned. A halo of light above their heads woke the sleeping boy next to her.

He stretched out, “ ‘s over?” she nodded. 

“I take it you weren’t a fan?”

He shook his head, “I don’t think I was the target audience,” he shrugged, “you liked it?”

She nodded, “I loved it.”

They stood from their seats and headed for the exit, she tossed her melted Icee remnants and popcorn before they exited the building entirely. It was completely dark out and pouring. They ran to his car, trying to outrun the downpour embracing them. 

Silence covered them as they sat in the car, the heater spat out cold air before finally heating the space to a more comfortable temperature. He put the car into reverse and sped out of the parking lot. Soft indie music played through the speakers, no artists y/n had particularly liked but she wouldn’t complain as she wasn’t the one driving. 

His hand found a home on her thigh again, higher than the previous unwanted gesture was. She glared down at it for a moment before grabbing his hand in between her thumb and pointer finger, moving it so it sat on the gear shift instead. He chuckled. 

“Sorry, thought it was fine since,” he turned to glance at her before looking back out the windshield, “you didn’t move it earlier.” 

She stared at her hands in her lap, swallowing the saliva building up in her mouth. “I, um,” she pulled her lips into her mouth for a moment, “I’m not really interested in you like that. I’m sorry.”

“Oh.” he took a sharp breath, before laughing. “I’m really bad at reading people. I’m sorry, I got the wrong idea.” Relief washed over her. 

“No don’t worry, I’m also extremely passive and I can’t really express myself like I should, I don't know.” 

“Well, it's both our faults then,” he smiled at her and she sent one right back. 

Harry watched as he put his car into park, having made it back to her apartment complex before them as his car went much faster than his beat up civic. He watched as y/n reached over the middle console to hug the boy and watched as she got out to ascend the stairs. Now he would simply wait to get a text to invite him up. 

Y/n opened the door, greeted by her bells, and flicked on the lights. She ran around her studio, trying to tidy up quickly, and lit a pumpkin spice candle before running into the bathroom to take a quick shower, desperate to wash the rain scent off her (and Ross’ lingering touch).

Harry sat in his car, his fingers dancing along the dashboard impatiently as he wondered what was taking her so long. Naturally, his mind went to the worst case scenario; someone broke in and is holding her hostage or she fell and twisted her ankle and is screaming on the floor from the debilitating pain or-.

His phone chimed, her message casting a glow onto his face.

Y/n:

i’m home now you can head over whenever:)

His anxiety was alleviated from her text message, a confirmation of her safety and wellbeing. He immediately got out of his car, the warmth from the heated seats almost disappeared instantly with how cold and wet it was. And like her, he ascended the stairs to knock on the door.

On the inside, y/n was confused by the knocking, not realizing it was Harry with how quickly the knocking happened after she sent the text. She peered through the peephole and immediately opened the door, not wanting him to stay in the cold much longer. The bells on the handle sang.

“Bells?” She nodded. “Hm.”

“It’s a safety thing, I guess.”

“You don’t feel safe?” He stepped closed to her as she shut the door behind him.

“Well, it’s not that I don’t feel safe, I just wanted extra precaution,” she shrugged.

“If you don’t feel safe I’ll have Jax stay in the area and have hourly check ins or we can relocate you or-”

“Relocate? Harry, no it’s not that big of a deal I just wanted to be able to hear the door from the shower.” Harry glared at her. 

“Not that big of a deal? Y/n, your safety is a huge deal.” 

“Can we drop it? Please, I don’t want to talk about it,” she approached her bed and sat down, picking up a decorative pillow to mess with the trim. 

Harry sighed and sat next to her on the bed, moving her hair from her face. She looked at him, the glimmer in her eyes returning. The little voice in Harry’s head returned, even louder, shouting at him to leave her alone; to get out of there and never look back.

“We can drop it, but you need to tell me if you ever feel unsafe, little lamb, understood?” She nodded. “Y/n,” he said in a warning tone, “tell me you understand, please. 

She rolled her eyes, smiling. “Yes, Harry, I understand.”

“Thank you.”

“How’d you get here so fast?” Harry froze, trying to come up with an excuse but blanking, just staring at her for a minute while his mind went a million miles an hour. “Harry?”

“I, I kinda just stayed in the parking lot while you were gone.”

She laughed. “No way, you waited more than two hours? Just sitting in your car?” he hesitantly nodded, a blatant lie.

He absolutely did not wait in his car outside of her apartment. He followed them to the theater, bought himself a ticket to the same movie, and sat at the very top with his head low, and watched them the entire time. He watched as her shoulders shook from crying, watched as she ate her candy and drank her Icee, watched when the boy she was with, whose name he never bothered learning, placed his hand on her lap. He watched them leave the theater with anger coursing through him. 

“You didn’t have to do that, Harry.” He shrugged, not caring to continue this conversation. 

“Why are you on mornings now?” 

She sighed, “I got scared,” her tongue was thick in her mouth, scared to cry again if it resulted in him leaving once more and ending contact for another month. His hand met her back, lightly rubbing the tender flesh beneath his rough hand. Her hands fumbled with the zipper on the pillow. “The night we met really freaked me out.  Like when you left, I swore someone was still here watching me. It was freaky. And the next morning I was so drained, I think that's why I forgot Jax was coming to get me. And then the time changed and I got even more scared cause I would just basically be working in the dark the entire shift and I don’t know I just psych myself out sometimes,” she ended her tangent, partially forgetting to breathe throughout it. 

Harry’s hand moved to tangle in her hair, slightly gripping the strands between his fingers, before removing his touch from her all together. 

“And you forgot your phone,” he joked, a soft smile on his lips. 

She pulled her lips in her mouth, exhaling a laugh through her nose, “and I forgot my phone.”

Silence dawned on them once more. A comfortable one, neither needing to speak as they basked in each other's presence. 

She scooted closer to Harry, her head making contact with his shoulder. Harry gulped at the contact, unsure of what to do with himself. His hand raised, touching her cheek gently. They sat there, in silence, for what felt like an eternity. A comfortable, blissful eternity. 

She had fallen asleep on his shoulder, her breathing became evenly paced and softer. Harry laid her down under her sheets, and saw himself out after kissing her forehead and blowing out her candle. 

+++

Y/n was having an okay day, nothing bad had happened at work, so far. No rude customers, no shitty tips and best of all, no training needed to be done. So, yes her day was going well. Until she received a message from Harry saying they needed to have a talk and that he’ll be picking her up. He was consistent with punctuation, but the period at the end of his sentence horrified her. She was a sweaty, anxious mess her entire shift. 

She reread the message every ten minutes. Time was moving so slow. Her anxiety was eating away at her, like it had been starving for months and had finally found a body to ravage to satiate the hunger. She had four cigarettes during her shift. 

Harry leaned against the passenger door of his car, waiting for y/n’s shift to end. She could feel his eyes on her every time she passed by the window at the front to attend to her last table, she knew he was watching her; he was so attentive. It made her sick. 

When her shift finally ended, after what felt like an eternity and a half, y/n pushed the doors open and made her way to Harry. He looked down at her with a smirk. She hoped he couldn’t see her throat bobbing while she swallowed down the excess saliva building in her mouth. 

“Ya kept me waiting, little lamb.” he opened the car door for her and she could feel her coworkers staring out the window at the pair. 

“‘M sorry.” She sat on the heated seat, placing her bag on the floor between her feet. Harry leaned over her to connect her seatbelt. “Thank you,” she muttered before Harry closed the door. 

“How was your shift?” he asked as he buckled himself in. 

“S’fine.” she mumbled. 

“Angel,” her heart pounded against her sternum, you could practically hear her heartbeat in the silence. “What have I told you about mumbling?”

She bit her lip, gnawing on it before answering. “You don’t understand it.” she practically whispered.

“That’s right, little lamb. Now, why do you keep doing it?”

She could cry, sob and dry heave even. Fall to her knees and beg for forgiveness as if she had angered a god. “I don’t know, I’m sorry.” she fiddled with her fingers. Harry’s hand grabbed her own and pinched the inside of her palm, a squeal escaping her lips. He laughed. 

“Don’t apologize, ‘m just messing with you,” he smiled at her as he parked his car, already at her complex. He was quick to undo his seatbelt and get out, running to her side to open the door for her. “After you.” he gestured to the stairs, allowing her to go in front of him. 

She opened the door, her bells greeting the two. She stood by the door as Harry took a seat in her chair (it finally was free of clean clothing).

“Can you tell me what you want to talk to me about? Please?”

“Eager?” she nodded. 

“More scared than anything.” her breathing was heavy. 

“Oh, my sweet lamb.” remorse covered his face, so sorry and upset he had made a literal angel wait in apprehension. He stood from his spot on the chair and moved to stand before her. Without hesitation, he held her face in the palm of his hand, her nuzzling into the warmth of his touch. “I’m sorry I scared you, didn’t mean to, angel.” 

“S’okay, Harry, I know.” 

“Sit with me,” he removed his hand from her face, instead reaching for her hand to sit with him on the chair. He sat and patted his lap, an invitation for her. 

“There’s not enough space for the both of us.”

He tugged on her arm, “s’fine, just sit.”

“Harry, that chair is 100 years old, I’m not breaking my favorite antique piece.” 

“Y/n,” his tone laced with warning. 

“Harry,” she whined back. “Just sit on the bed with me please.” she pouted. 

And, of course, Harry would give in, standing up with her hand still in his and sitting on the bed to please her. Their thighs were touching with the proximity of their bodies, y/n hoped he couldn’t hear her heartbeat or feel the sweat coating her palm. 

“Can you tell me now, please.” she rested her head on his shoulder, Harry could hear her pouting as she spoke. 

He sighed, squeezing her hand in his. “I feel very,” he paused, trying to gather his thoughts so as to not scare her with how he truly felt. “I feel very protective of you, y/n.” 

“Wow that’s a shocker,” she interrupted, sarcastically. 

“Y/n” he warned, again. 

“Sorry. Go ‘head.” 

“No interruptions, please.” she nodded, “Good girl.” she grinned, “I feel very protective of you and I thought leaving you alone would make it not as intense but it definitely only made it worse, angel. I just, I need to know you’re safe and okay and I have no idea why but I just need to know. Your safety means so much to me, your wellbeing.” he swallowed, taking in a shaky breath. “I need to tell you, or warn you, about what I do.” 

She lifted her head, making eye contact with him, a puzzled look replacing her previously smitten expression. 

“I kinda sell drugs.” Still, she maintained eye contact. He looked at her, waiting for a response. 

“Is that it?” 

“What?” Harry asked, confused. 

“You sell drugs?” he nodded. “Oh okay.”

Still, Harry stared at her, bewildered by her nonchalant response. “You’re okay with that?” 

“Harry, there’s like ten people in this town with nothing to do, literally everyone deals or buys. Not a big deal.” she shrugged a shoulder, her fingers messing with his rings. 

Still, he stared at her, his expression growing concerned. “It’s not just weed, y/n.” She laughed, his eyes were bulging, his jaw slack and a furrow in his brow. 

“I can assume it’s not just weed, you won’t be making much with just weed here.”

“Your casualness with what I’m telling you is concerning.”

Her smile faded, “I'm sorry, what do you want me to say?”

He ran his hand through his hair, dropping his gaze to their hands entwined. “I don’t know. I just didn’t expect you to be so calm.” 

“I used to do coke,” she shrugged. Harry’s eyes snap to hers, squeezing her hand a little more. “I had really bad issues maybe, like, last September. It was really bad, the withdrawals were insane but one of my friends' brothers had, um,” she swallowed down the acid building in her throat. "He got some laced with fent and he passed. My friend only got worse because of it and the guy who sold him it didn’t even care, he was just like ‘well that happens sometimes’, such a fucking asshole like he had just killed someone and that didnt even spark anything in him! I stopped after that cause I was so scared,” she admitted. “My friend never got better, he had to move in with his parents and they forced him to go to rehab but that didn’t even help.” 

“I’m sorry.” was all Harry could offer. 

She looked up at him through her lashes, “I trust you, Harry. I do. But if you’re selling anything laced,” she shook her head, her breathing picking up. 

“I’m not, angel I promise I’m not, I’d never.” he let go of her hand, placing both hands on the sides of her face, forcing her to look at him.

“If you ever work with Liam Payne I’ll kill you.” He laughed at her threat, the name going over his head at the idea of a girl her size trying to cause harm to a man of his stature. “Don’t laugh at me! I’m being serious, Harry. If you ever work with him I’ll never wanna see you again. Liam is a terrible person. I don’t want you to get involved in that too.” 

He deadpanned, “Liam Payne?” she nodded. “How do you know him?” 

“Who do you think sold the laced batch?” Harry was furious. He removed his hands from her face, standing up and letting out a frustrated groan. “What’s wrong? Do you know him?” 

“No,” he responded immediately. “Never met him, Niall was telling me about him. There was a shootout the other day and we think it was him, probably was that stupid fuck. He could be the reason we fucking get caught! Fuck!” he shouted, the girl flinched, her gaze returning to her hands. 

“I'm sorry I brought it up, I didn't mean to make you mad at me.” 

He stared at her, his breathing heavy. She couldn’t look at him, wouldn’t dare to make eye contact with him out of fear of him taking it out on her. She knew deep down, however, he would never lay a finger on her; never cause any harm to her whatsoever. But the thought was still prevalent. 

“ M'not mad at you, never at you, little one. Look at me,” she looked up at him, her eyes meeting the green ones she adored. He sat back on the bed, taking her face in his hands one more. “not at you at all. Promise.” she nodded, grabbed his hands from her face and nuzzled her face into his neck, her hands gripping his jacket. “I’m sorry for scaring you, won't do it again.” he apologized as he rubbed her back. 

“Thank you.” she kissed the side of his neck, momentarily feeling his pulse with her lips. Harry’s heart fluttered in his chest. 

Harry wished he could stay like that forever, with her warmth against his, her face nestled in his neck. Peace was finally in his grasp, holding onto it so delicately like a fine piece of china, far too scared to drop it and destroy the delicate art, but it was never in his nature to be deft. He’d take what he could get, and if this was all he would be offered, he would accept it with open arms and a half empty heart. He longed to be full again.

and know that one day, you and I could be okay.

tags: @tiaamberxx @jerseygirlinca @n0vaj3an @tpwk-mia @indierockgirrl @buckybarnessimpp @hannah9921 @love-letters-to-uranus @ribbonknives @annesauriol @moneybaby07

if your @ is in red the tag doesn’t work. thanks for reading and supporting ₊˚⊹♡

[ponderingmoonlight]

Hii can I request something with jealous Megumi and Gojo it can be spicy or fluffy as much as you wantt. Btw i adoreee your writting <333

I'm so glad you like my writing love, there you go <3 I don't know why I got so carried away by Gojo again, but I hope you still like it - let me know :)

How JJK men act when they're jealous

Pairing: Gojo x reader; Megumi x reader

Word Count: 3,2k (how lol)

Warnings: Gojo part escalated again and isn't that much about jealousy, language, mini mentions of intercourse

Gojo Satoru

„Urgh, this shit is so annoying. At least you’re looking hot next to me, Babe”, Satoru signs while casually placing an arm around your waist.

It really is annoying. The two of you were sent out in order to find a man who might have important information regarding three of Sukuna’s fingers. And there he stands, casually in a white suit while sipping on his glass of wine and talking to random women. But is this really the right way? After all, you smuggled into this extravagant event that seems to involve only the richest of the rich around Tokyo.

“We’ll never get to him by just standing here together”, you breathe out.

No, with all these women surrounding him, there’s absolutely no chance to start a conversation randomly. You pull up your black sleeves and look around. Damn, how pathetic these women are, roaming around as if they’re looking for meat. Some of them even tried to seduce Satoru, even though you’re standing right by his side. Well, you can’t blame them though. He’s looking absolutely delicious in his elegant black suit, probably the most eye-catching man they have ever seen.

“Maybe I need to join the fray too”, you suggest, eyes darted towards a random girl in a scandalous short dress who caresses the man’s chest.

“You? You don’t belong there, (y/n). I don’t want you near that disgusting old fart”, Gojo hisses through gritted teeth, his grip around your waist tightens.

“Too bad that’s kinda the job today. Listen, you are my boyfriend, but right now I need to seduce that man. You want to stop this madness too, right?”

Satoru signs audible, his jaw so tense that it might snap.

“But you look so good in that black dress babe”, Satoru mutters.

“And I do that just for you, okay? Just please, let me do my job darling.”

“I could rip out his fingers one by one until he tells me the truth, y’know”, he breathes against your ear.

You can’t help but let out a little giggle. It’s always like that. Satoru is so possessive over you that it’s making your life hard sometimes. As if he doesn’t know that he’s walking sex himself, as if your heart wouldn’t belong to only him.

“Come on, we both know you’d never do that. How do I look?”

You push your skin tight black dress up to make your cleavage look even better, fingers caressing the soft fabric so that it falls perfectly. Everything has to appear right. You want to get this mission over with as soon as possible.

“You’re always looking gorgeous”, he murmurs offended, bright blue orbs looking you up and down behind his sunglasses.

“Don’t make such a face, I’ll be back as soon as I have what we want. Maybe roam around in the meantime and look for sweets?”, you suggest kindly.

“You’re the only candy I want, babe.”

His words alone send goosebumps down your spine. God, this man will be your death, you just know it. But for now, you need to straighten your back, stick out your chest and swing your hips on your way to the old man who is the key to Sukuna’s disgusting fingers.

“I’ll be back in a minute”, you hush and get going.

It isn’t hard for you to catch his attention. To be exact, the second he lays his eyes on your delicious curves covered by an elegant black gown all the women around you seem to be gone. His gaze almost eats you up alive. God, how sickening. You want nothing more than a hot bath with Satoru with some Netflix and chill. But this has to wait.

“I have to admit, this is a very nice party”, you purr while showing him your most seductive red-lipped smile.

“Nice to hear coming from a woman that wasn’t even invited”, he remarks, a playful grin creeping up his old face.

“What a woman doesn’t do to put on a dress and act like a princess for an evening.”

You can see the way his eyes darken at the sound of your oh so sweet voice. Wow, if you weren’t a jujutsu-sorcerer you would definitely have become an actress.

Satoru can hear every word you sing-sang at that old fart in front of you, he can sense the way he’s longing to touch your delicate features. God, how much he would love to storm over, slap him away from you and get home. But he shouldn’t. He knows he can’t do that. You insisted on him staying in the background, you want to do this on your own-

“A woman like you doesn’t have to pretend to be a princess. You look like a queen, darling.”

Darling. Did he just call you by your nickname? His skin begins to tingle in hot anger, eyes piercing through the man hazardously. No one is allowed to call you darling expect him. No. one. Who does he think he is? Just because he has a shit ton of money.

“Then I’m a good fit for you. There’s actually something you could do for me, I want something you have”, you continue, your voice intoxicating Gojo’s thoughts.

You never talked like that to a man apart from him. That old fart doesn’t deserve the attention you give him, he doesn’t deserve that you even look his way. You should lay in Satoru’s arms light now, his hands gently stroking your hair while he admires how gorgeous you look.

“If you want something I have, you will have to give me something in exchange I fear.”

You knew this would happen. Looking good and flirting isn’t enough for men like him. In fact, you can tell by a glimpse into his old eyes what he wants. He desires to be alone with you, in a distant room far away from the crowds. The thought alone makes your gut twist in disgust. God, if he touches your body you might throw up. Do you really have to do this? Is this the only way to get a hold of Sukuna’s fingers before the enemy finds them? Fuck, what are you supposed to do?

“What do you have in mind?”, you hum, voice not giving any hint of your thoughts.

He lets out a deep chuckle, hands gliding in your direction.

“I say we’ll discuss this matter more privately, what do you think?” he murmurs.

This mission is very important, everyone at Jujutsu High made that very clear. That’s why they sent you along with Gojo. You’ve never screwed up a mission, always keen to do your very best at stopping the madness of curses. You never fail, you never miss. Even if it means you have to make sacrifices. Even if it means that you have to sell yourself for some stupid information…

 Your gaze wanders to your gorgeous boyfriend, his jaw so tense that it could snap any minute, both hands balled into fists. How much he hates to see you like that, on your way to a place where he can’t follow. But you just have to do this. He needs to understand that. Hopefully he does…

“Sounds like a plan to me.”

He elegantly extends his shriveled hand to you and leads you across the huge hall into a stairwell, away from the crowds and the reassuring eyes of Gojo. You are now on your own with that stranger in a room with a queen-size bed in the middle of his.

“Finally some privacy.”

The man places himself between you and the door, his eyes roaming over you as if you’re his prey. Fuck, you feel like fainting, screaming and crying at the same time. Over and over you tell yourself that this is your job, that you have to make sacrifices just like everyone else, that you don’t need to have a bad conscience. But as soon as your mind wanders to your boyfriend you aren’t so sure about all of that anymore.

“There is no need to rush though, you don’t even know what I want to talk about.”

Your voice is solid and confident, but you can definitely feel your knees going weak. Panic flickers through your mind as he locks the door with a swift motion.

“I don’t need to know what you want. You need to pay first before you receive any information from me”, he remarks, voice cold as eyes.

“And now come here and open my belt for me, will you?

You feel like crying, all of your confidence is washed away in the matter of seconds. You thought you are able to take it all if it means to complete your mission, that it doesn’t bother you to touch another man apart from Satoru in exchange for Sukuna’s fingers. But you can’t. The thought of his hands on your body sends shivers down your spine – not in the good way.

“I’m not here for sexual interaction.”

“Sure, that’s why you shove up your tits and swing your hips like that. Don’t be so prudish, I’ll give you what you want after you gave me what I want.”

You want to get out, as far away from his approaching figure and back into Satoru’s arms. But the only way out is locked. Fuck, what the hell did you get yourself into? Satoru…You will certainly not look at him the same after this. Never in your life you should have allowed that to happen. No mission in the world is worth losing your pride over it, your power over your own body. Screw Sukuna’s fingers, sooner or later Satoru will find them anyway. This was a bad idea right from the start.

“Are you finally coming here or do I have to force you?”

Your face goes pale in an instant, body too shocked to move an inch. The look in his eyes tells you that he’s not playing around. This man doesn’t give a fuck about whenever you want him or not. Fuck, you are an extraordinary jujutsu-sorcerer, your powers surpass him in every aspect. Why the hell is all you can do to stare at him with your doe eyes? Why don’t you fight back as soon as his hands burn against your bare skin? Why aren’t you screaming Satoru’s name?

“Get your dirty hands off my girlfriend.”

The split of a second is enough for Satoru to force himself into the room, bright blue orbs gleaming in thick anger.

“Get the fuck out, young man. Do I have to call security? You can have her when I’m done”, he old fart hisses into his face.

“I’m really trying to be a good person, but you are testing my patience, old man. I’ll say it one last time: Get. Your. Hands. Off. Her.”

Tears of shock, despair and relief begin to cloud your eyes while his grip around your shoulder tightens.

“Fine. I won’t hold back then.”

A little motion of Satoru’s pinky finger is enough to blast the man away from you. His figure slams against the wall, head instantly covered in crimson while Satoru rushes to your side.

“If you ever dare to touch my woman again I’ll kill you. Got it?”

 “Come on, fuck that information. Let’s get you out of here”, he gently mumbles against your ear.

Gently, he wraps his arm around your trembling shoulders and escorts you out of the enormous building into the comforting darkness of the night.

“I can’t believe I let this happen”, he snorts out, face completely twisted in fury.

Fuck the upper ranks and their senseless missions. You are his girlfriend, god damn. How could he let another man touch you, let alone be alone with you? The thought of this old fart and his dirty hands against your soft skin make his blood boil all over again. You belong to him only.

“It’s not your fault, Satoru. I thought I have to so this, that I’m a jujutsu sorcerer and the mission is always the most important. But…I can’t let another man apart from you touch me like that. It’s just not possible. You are the only one I want and need”, you blurt out, hot tears streaming down your face and ruining your perfect makeup.

God, how much he hates to see you like that. All of that for some fucking fingers? This has to be a joke. He is the strongest, if he can’t find them then who else can? Why do you have to feel miserable about something like that?

“And I promise you that I will never let another man touch you like this again. You are my girlfriend, my everything. (y/n) I-“

Desperately, he cups your face with his hands, forehead pressed against his. You close your eyes, take in this bittersweet moment. Satoru, the man you love more than the entire earth saved you again.

“I love you more than anything else. The thought of him being alone with you in this room killed me, I just couldn’t stand it. This will never happen again. You are my darling and mine alone, you hear?”

“I just wanna be yours, Satoru”, you breathe against his lips before he grabs your shoulders and kisses you so passionately that you feel like flying.

God, how much you loved this man. And moments like this make it very clear to you that he loves you too. Satoru Gojo would rather get into trouble with the elders than seeing you in the arms of another man.

“You are, darling. Let’s get home, shall we? Then I’m gonna show you how much I really love you…”

Megumi Fushiguro

He knows it’s absolutely dumb and ridiculous. You’ve been his girlfriend since three years, always by his side, not even the slightest interested in other boys. He just knows that you love him dearly, with all your heart. But why on earth does it hurt so bad to see you talking to this unfamiliar jujutsu-sorcerer? Why does it bother him so much to see him smile down at you and even worse, to witness you laugh at his completely senseless joke?

“Megumi, come here!”, you shout over your shoulder, smile as wide as ever.

He grumbles into himself. Megumi would rather die than to talk to this guy whose eyes are all over you and your gorgeous features. Who is this anyway? He never saw him around Jujutsu High, let alone on missions. So he can’t be that strong right? Surely, he isn’t any better than Megumi himself…Right?

“Don’t be shy! Come on!”

Your hand grips his arms tightly and shoves him into the direction of the stranger. Normally he adores the way you cling onto him – not today though, not in this situation when you force him to confront the guy who’s obviously flirting with you.

“Let me introduce you to my longtime friend Botan! Botan, this is my boyfriend Megumi!”, you introduce him with a proud grin.

Even Megumi escapes a little smile. Good, you called him boyfriend in front of this jerk. Then he should know where his place is.

“Your boyfriend? Are you sure about that?”, the unknown face replies, voice dripping in sarcasm while looking Megumi up and down.

“Come on Botan, stop the crap”, you giggle.

Megumi isn’t amused at all. In fact, he is absolutely furious. One look into this jerks eyes is enough to know that this statement wasn’t a dumb joke. Botan wants you, his girlfriend, his entire world.

“Yeah, stop the crap and get the fuck away before I make you.”

Your heart sinks into your chest, smile dropping immediately. One glance into Megumi’s face and the way the vein on his forehead pulsates is enough to understand that he is fueled with rage. And that almost never happens.

“You against me? I don’t want to beat you up in front of your ‘girlfriend’. Or wait, maybe she needs to see how I beat your ass to understand that I’m the better catch. You don’t deserve (y/n)”, Botan hisses back.

“Botan”, you breathe out outraged.

“Megumi has been my boyfriend for years! I love him dearly! Never in my life would I want to exchange him!”

“Look at him (y/n)! What does he give you, huh? He isn’t strong, he isn’t that handsome and from what I’ve heard he’s stone cold and introverted, you’re nothing like him! I’ve known you for more than ten years, when will you finally understand that I have exactly what you need?”

You are entirely lost at words, it seems like the world around you is collapsing. Of course you’ve been aware of his side-crush this whole time, after all he never made a secret out of it. But to hear it out of his mouth and even worse in front of your beloved boyfriend is terrible. Terrible and wrong.

Megumi shifts his weight besides you, figure now standing dangerously close to Botan’s. Your eyes widen in pure horror, terrified of what might happen next. You know all too well that your boyfriend is very good at making reasoned decisions – never hot-headed, never too hasty, never exaggerated. But the look in his cold blue eyes tells you otherwise. It seems like he’s only seconds away from completely losing it. The usual calm and collected Megumi you know suddenly seems so hot-headed.

“If that’s true, why is (y/n) my girlfriend since three years and I’ve never heard a single word about you? Do yourself a favor and leave us alone, especially (y/n). She is my girlfriend and will always be. A jerk like you won’t change that.”

He casually wraps his arm around your waist while still holding eye contact with Botan, who looks back and forth between the two of you.

“I love him, Botan. And that won’t change. We’ll never be a thing”, you clarify with soft voice.

“And now stop looking at her, we have a mission anyway. See you never.”

With that, Megumi turns on his heels, your frame in his tight grip, and leaves Botan standing in the dust.

“You are mine”, he hisses.

“Only yours.”

“Who does he think he is to take you away from me, huh?”, Megumi blurts out.

“Absolutely ridiculous.”

“(y/n).”

He grips your face and forces you to look at him. God, he looks so perfect, so turbulent, so…hot.

Instead of any other words, he simply presses his lips against yours. Your tongues intertwine with each other, you aren’t even able to catch a breath between the way he longingly gets lost in your mouth.

“I love you”, he mumbles against your lips.

You feel like drowning and flying at the same time, mind completely occupied by the hot-headed Megumi that seems to kiss you to death.

“I love you too, Megumi. More than anything else”, you whisper, hands gripping onto his biceps for dear life.

“More than him”, he speaks out, gaze now locked with yours as if he’s searching for the answer in your glossy orbs.

“A thousand times more than him”, you confirm.

“Good.”

And again, his needy lips crash against yours, remember you with every bite, every kiss and every hushed word that you are his.

Only his.

[lemoniiiiiii]

chances

(frat!kyle spencer x fem!reader)

content: fluff, angst (if you squint?), mentioned sexual harassment (by frat members)

a/n: not proofread, short drabble inspired by this post, wrote it really fast so sorry if it's not the best (it's my first time writing for kyle too so)! also, the last line is sick I'm aware I'M SORRY RYAN MURPHY POSSESSED ME

when your boyfriend kyle told you that he was joining the fraternity kappa lambda gamma you seriously thought he was joking. kyle was caring, hard-working, kind. yeah, he liked to joke around, but he was nothing like those greek alphabet degenerates you associated frats with. you told him this earnestly. it wasn't just a passing judgment, it was a genuine concern for him. trapped in a house with all those guys? kyle could handle himself well growing up in the 9th ward, but these frat guys were different to the types of people he was used to dealing with. you didn't want to see him to get hurt, or worse... start becoming like them.

when you expressed your feelings to him, kyle (of course politely) brushed your concerns off.

"give em' a chance..." he told you, caressing your head in his lap. "they're not all as bad as ya think. and even some of em' that are a bit.. y'know.. they're good people at heart, i can tell. they just hafta be put in the right direction."

"and is that why you're gonna try and become president?"

"yep! kappa lambda gamma has the potential to be one of the best chapters tulane has ever seen. that, and it gets ya some pretty awesome connections"

he was right.. a lot of past frat members had become pretty successful and kyle could use that to his advantage.

"okay fair... just, be safe okay? stick to what you know- who you are"

"oh i f'sure will" he flashed a knowing smile, leaning in to plant a tender kiss on your lips. your hands found their way into his golden curls, drawing him closer for a deeper connection.

as if on cue, the moment kyle pulled away, his phone began to ring. he glanced at the screen, and an apologetic smile appeared on his lips as he answered the call, shifting slightly as if bracing for what was coming.

"whoa, whoa, whoa, ma, slow down. what's going on? i’m at a—" he hesitated, casting a quick glance your way, "—at a friend’s, i told ya already... yeah, i’ll be home soon... what? right now?" there was a brief pause before he sighed. "okay, ma. love you too."

as kyle lowered the phone, you let out a soft sigh, already knowing what was coming. "gotta go, huh?"

"yeah, i’m sorry, baby..." he took your hand gently, lifting it to his lips in one smooth motion, the warmth of his breath tickling your skin before his lips brushed your knuckles. his fingers slid between yours, intertwining, and then he leaned in close, pressing a lingering kiss to your temple. "i’ll see you on campus, okay?"

you nodded, trying to mask the disappointment tugging at your chest. "mhm… see you," you murmured, sitting up and watching him leave.

--

"oh my god" your jaw dropped as kyle stepped out of the bathroom. you had gone to surprise him after move-in day, wanting to see how he was adjusting to the frat life. and oh boy did he adjust. he had the blue embroidered polo with the collar obnoxiously flipped up, a white long sleeve underneath it, rolled up to the elbows, even-

"your hair!" you gasped. kyle's once luscious curls you loved to run your hands through had now become flat and side-swept. you silently cursed yourself for ever teaching him how to use a flat iron so he could help you do your hair.

"well y'know you could say hi-" he chuckled, enjoying your reaction to his new look. "like it?"

to be honest, you didn't hate it, as much as you wanted to. kyle had a way of making anything look good. it was more what it represented that made your stomach churn.

"you certainly look the part" you said, forcing a half-smile. "all you need now is a backwards cap and a blood alcohol content of .12%"

he laughed, walking over and nudging your arm. "c'mon babe. open mind, remember?"

you sighed. "right... open mind" you glanced over him again, noticing how the fabric of his clothes hugged his frame in a way that accentuated his muscles. "okay.. you do look really hot i'm just wor-"

"gonna stop ya right there." he gently placed a hand on your arm, giving you a warm smile. "thank you. i'm happy ya came."

"i'm... happy i'm here- well, with you anyway" you couldn’t help but let the corners of your mouth lift. kyle just had that effect on you.

"..seriously though," you started again, looking into his eyes with a hint of concern.

kyle’s expression softened as he wrapped an arm around your lower back. "i promise it's stoppin' here, alright? all this… it's just surface level. you still have me." he gestured vaguely to his clothes and hair. "this is still the same me."

you held his gaze, trying to believe him, though a small part of you still worried that he may fall in too deep.

"please baby, give em' a chance..."

"what kind of chance?" you looked up at him, raising an eyebrow. "because i was violated like three different ways just walking up to your room." the words came out half-joking, but there was an edge to your tone that kyle didn’t miss.

he straightened up, eyes narrowing, and his brow furrowed with a fierce protectiveness. "what happened?"

"i'm kidding... kinda. nothing crazy just a few wandering eyes" you waved it off, though the memory of being looked up and down like that made your skin crawl for a second.

"i'll talk to em' about it. if they say or do anything else, tell me. i'll cut their fuckin' balls off" his voice was serious, and though he didn't mean it literally, you knew he would go to war for the people he cared about.

"as long as i get to watch," you giggled, leaning into him a little more.

"...any chance you’ll stop using that flat iron, though?" you asked, giving his new hairstyle a gentle tease, still missing the curls that used to frame his face.

"when i'm dead." he chuckled with a cocky grin.

"we’ll see about that."

--

tags (ask to be added or removed anytime!): @fear-is-truth @juliamaximoff @jazz-berry @violetsghosts @heartz4peter

[skxllz]

18+

lip splaying kisses over your nape; the side of your neck; on the juncture of your neck and shoulder; bare upper arm. he's whispering sweet, dirty promises and then some in between.

lip sliding spread out fingers down your side painfully slow, feeling over your silky skin and memorizing each freckle and mole and scar he comes to discover.

lip, who slips the tips of his fingers under the thin band of your underwear to caress the skin of your hip; biting down on your shoulder gently in an affectionate manner, only to squeeze your hip bone firmly.

lip looking up at you through his lashes, making sure you're still with him. your labored breathing and lack of noises concerned him.

lip, pushing his other hand past the thick surface of your panties’ material, only to cup his hand over your sex — never looking away from you. never pulling his eyes off of your delicate face, watching as your head falls back into his shoulder and lips part in a whimper.

“ mine, ” he whispers, the pad of his middle digit running a slow stripe of possession through the center of your folds. “ understand, pretty girl? ’s all mine. no one else's. ”

lip, who talks to you sensually, voice quiet and smooth, while his fingers circle your clit, then dip down. smoothing over your sensitive flesh, and spreading it open; the wetness of your entrance clenching with need from his touch.

lip nudging your thighs further apart with the thickness of his forearm, only to twist his hand and change direction; delving into your pussy with faced-up digits. curling them as soon as they're sunk in, feeling up your pink walls and soaking in the velvety tone.

“ so wet for me, mhm... ” he'd whisper in your ear; leaning forward to nip the lobe, earning a gasp of a moaning breath from you.

lip, who then looks forward — making eye contact with you through the full length mirror in front of your bed. you're between his thighs, legs pushed to sit propped up and open, each of your feet opposite of his own. his eyes are hooded, dark, clouded with undying lust and aggression at the thought of you like this with anyone else but him.

his fingers are slipping from your pussy, exiting your panties — and then are held up to the light, where he separated them. a thin string of your juices are sticking quite well to each of his fingertips, fluctuating between pulling straight and bouncing into a u from the movement of lip's hand; sending his head to spin and your cheeks to flare up.

he smirks, before flickering his eyes back down to meet your own. “ naughty girl, aren't you? ” lip hums, nodding his head to your lips, “ open up. ”

[abiatackerman]

The winter weekend nights

Event: @levievent "Levi Month 24"

💕Day 21: Post-war: Children💕

Canon universe! Tea shop owner Levi X Doctor Reader! Postwar Levi! Sweet af! Fluff fluff and fluff!!! 1K Words!

💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕

The snows are falling uncontrollably and the wind is chilly enough to freeze anything. But the scene inside the Ackerman Tea shop is different. It's a duplex wooden cabin made very elegantly by the shop owner Levi Ackerman himself.

Rumours say that once he was a strong soldier and his wife was a great doctor in the same military section he used to work for. Some Marley people don't believe it because he is a man who uses a wheelchair and lost his eye and used to serve candies to kids once. Not to mention he serves the most splendid teas and looks so gentle and vulnerable now. Maybe that's just a rumour after all.

Well, the thing doesn't matter actually as long as he serves great teas and his wife works as a kind doctor to them. They don't have any problem with the Ackerman couple or their twins.

The most nosy woman in the neighborhood was thinking this as she looks outside through the window. The Ackerman Tea Shop is invisible due to the heavy rainfall. What's happening there?

As soon as the five year old girl finishes reading her script, you burst into her laughter. She tugs her hair behind her ear shyly, blushing. Her hair is just like you, her eyes dark brown which resembles yours. Though the other features are the same as the "Mysterious Tea Shop Owner Levi Ackerman".

"Mom, why are you laughing? Did I write something wrong?"

You daughter, Lily looks up at you and somehow you stop your laughter. She was currently reading the paragraph she wrote randomly. You both are snuggled up against each other under a warm blanket. You hug her and shaking your head, you caress Lilly's hair.

"Just look at your father and brother. They look alike."

Levi is sitting on the sofa which is settled just in front of you so you all are facing each other. He and his son are sharing another blanket, not cuddling but still sitting close enough to feel each other's warmth. Your son looks just like Levi, just the slightly round shaped face is from you. His behaviours are the same as Levi too. They're both sitting in the same position, hands crossed on chest, one leg is on another. They both even "Tch"s together.

"Stop copying me, dad!"

You son grumbles and Levi looks at him with disbelief.

"You're the one who's copying me, brat!"

Your son sticks his tongue at Levi as you and your daughter laugh at them. Both levi and your son glare at you two to stop laughing but that just fuels your laughter more.

"Ok ok... No arguments!!!! I'll prepare hot chocolate for everyone!!!! Now, kids.... Take your dad to the bedroom!!!!!"

You say and get up from the sofa, removing the blanket. You hiss due the slight cold but your daughter happily jumps and runs to bring her dad's wheelchair. Your son nods and takes off the blanket he and Levi's were wearing and starts to fold it.

Your kids are so well mannered that you can't help but feel proud all the time. Smiling, you walk towards the kitchen to prepare hot chocolate for your kids and tea for Levi. When you're done your kids have already taken Levi to his room and helped him to get into the bed. Your daughter is sitting on Levi's lap as Levi reads a story and your son is leaning on Levi's arm and trying to read with Levi too.

Normally your kids share different rooms but specifically on the winter weekends you four sleep together. It strengthens your bonds and all of you love it. During the cold weather when it's snowing heavily, all of you are on the huge bed, under the warm blankets, cuddling each other.... It's the most favourite moment of the Ackerman family.

"How many Marshmallows, mommy? I want 5!!!!!"

You son pouts and you chuckle, getting into the bed. Just like Levi, he's a mommy's boy.

"Both of you have gotten 5! No worries."

You hand them their hot chocolate and Levi his tea. You've taken a hot chocolate too since you prefer it more than tea.

"Dad's tea tastes horrible. I don't even know why he takes that thing."

Your son complains as Levi sighs. You decide to stay silent about it since it's a topic for Levi to explain.

"Unlike you brats, I didn't have the money to buy hot chocolates and sugar. So I've always been drinking only plain tea which your grandma used to make for me. My tongue has gotten used to the bitter feeling so I can't drink anything sweet."

Levi says calmly as he sips his tea again. Your daughter and son scoots closer to him and Levi's face softens.

"I wish I could meet grandma."

Your son says softly and leans his head on Levi's arm.

"Me too"

Your daughter says softly, sipping her hot chocolate messily.

"Me three"

You say, making the kids chuckle. Levi shakes his head, smiling softly. As all of you finish your drinks and you clean up all the cups, you all lay down on the bed together. Your son and daughter between Levi and you. Just like your son hugs tightly, your daughter hugs Levi in the same way. Slowly four of you start to fall asleep together with a content smile on your faces as the snow keeps falling heavily outside of the cozy "Ackerman" cottage.

[justporo]

Evening Rituals

The sun might be lost for Astarion, but what he can hold onto are the sunsets once the sun itself has hidden beyond the horizon. And so he sits and watches - and you hope to help him mend what's broken.

MASTERLIST | AO3

Author's Note: I wrote this after I thought of that recent headcanon of Astarion liking to catch as much of a sunset as possible - because they're beautiful and we all know he loves beautiful things. Coincidentally the sky this morning - although it was a sunrise - was just as I imagined it for this piece. Pairing: Astarion/GN!Tav (You) Warnings: light mention of past trauma Wordcount: 1k Song: Am I Dreaming - Lil Nas X ft. Miley Cyrus ~~~

The room was dark so the sky could be more vibrant.

At least that’s what Astarion always said when he insisted on getting up as soon as the last golden ray of the setting sun had climbed down below the horizon. He’d thrown open the thick brocade curtains covering the tall window in your room, only to do the same with the window and then perch on the window sill: one leg drawn up, the other hanging casually down from the little nook and his head up towards the gradient sky.

His posture seemed casual enough. Inviting you to think that he was merely languidly relaxing. But for you who’d become accustomed to carefully notice even the most minute of details of your lover, you saw the tension in his spine and the way he leaned towards the last moments of daylight. The way his eyes spoke of yearning and a dear one lost.

It had become an evening ritual this. Since evenings were now the start of your days.

It had been merely a couple of days since your final battle for Baldur’s Gate and so for the time being you’d chosen to remain in the relative comfort of the Elfsong tavern. Until things had blown over a bit, the dust settled.

One of those things being how your vampire had been forced back into the night.

And how he hadn’t been ready for it. Although, if you were quite honest with yourself, who could have ever expected him to be ready for something as cruel as that?

Astarion fully hadn’t been prepared for this sort of breakup yet. That’s what he’d said several times. Sometimes half-joking, sometimes with as much earnestness as you’d heard from the man.

And you knew that even his new found, undying and powerful love for you could only take the sharpest edge off the pain all this was causing him.

He was mourning the loss of the sun. The griefing doubled by it being the second time it had been taken from him.

Because a heart already shattered into pieces, already once broken and barely just starting to stick together again was so prone to breaking down even more.

And so Astarion sat and watched how the last remains of sunlight slowly got drawn from the skies every evening. Observed how the colours changed from simmering, liquid gold at the rim and got drowned out by all shades of the colour blue imaginable. Like a curtain dragged down over the city ever so slowly - until glittering stars and a vibrant moon brought some solace with their silver light. As if offering a soft caress as a small apology to the vampire who would have to make do with them instead from now on.

And you sat with him every night, trying to offer additional comfort even though you knew that even you couldn’t substitute all the warmth of golden daylight. At least you wanted to be there for him while he was trying to mend the pieces as best he could.

It might not have been healthy how Astarion clung to shreds of what was left. But could you really blame him? You saw the pain in his crimson eyes every evening once he had settled down to watch, how he practically made himself sit through the pain time and time again. It tortured you.

But you also noticed the spark on his face, at least a silver lining. When he smiled and whispered to himself how beautiful it looked. “Almost as beautiful as you,” he joked sometimes. And then you smiled at him or kissed him. But not for too long as to not to keep him from his moment of serenity.

Mostly the two of you remained silent. You needn’t speak about this, it was an unspoken agreement between you. And a lot of thoughts must be going through Astarion’s mind at any given time. Two centuries were a hefty time span to sort through. And you felt he needed these moments to slowly work through it. To patiently let the major dust storm settle and see how pieces fit together after that. So usually you just stayed with him, observed him as much as the sunset sky, while you hoped you’d be a piece in the puzzle once he would have figured it all out.

Today you had quickly went down to the taproom to get yourself a mug of hot tea while Astarion had already flung open the window to perform his routine.

When you returned he was already there, head leaning against the window frame, one leg up and angled, softly swaying to a melody only the vampire heard.

Kneeling down in front of the window on a pillow you set down your cup on the window sill and then your head on top of your arms right next to it. Vapour curled lazily from the boiling hot beverage you’d brought for yourself, dissipating somewhere towards its way up to the flamboyant sunset.

The sky was different today. Mixed with the usual oranges, yellows and and blues was a breathtaking blend of purples and pinks, stroked over with some soft sheens of clouds that glowed even more vibrantly with the unusual colours.

Astarion was mesmerised, mouth slightly agape, as if he’d never seen something similar. Truly the way he could admire every single instance of the sky darkening slowly had you in awe and broke your heart simultaneously.

The vampire loved beautiful things, loved to look at them, again and again. And if that was what remained, he would hold onto it.

You took him in, took careful note of how his profile outlined darkly against the softer pastels of the early night, eyes shining. The warm light tones painted him softly - in a way that made your heart ache even more.

Astarion noticed you watch him and smiled at you lovingly - and just a little wicked. You hoped you saw a tiny bit less aching in it today. He stretched out his hand to stroke your hair softly while not breaking eye contact. He admired you very similarly to how you had been looking at him. And to how he previously had drank in the dusk sky.

Tonight his eyes didn’t stray from you while the colours slowly gave way to the darkness of the night.

The pain and the beauty of sunsets might be fleeting. Always prone to betray one.

But you were there. And you stayed even beyond darkness.

Taglist (DM if you want to be added please): @spacebarbarianweird @sunfire-ancunin @tragedybunny @dependsonthedream @tallymonster @magazzne @micropoe10 @aoirohi @my-bunny-prince @lumienyx @fayeriess @darlingxdragon @hereliesblackdragon @ayselluna @ajokeformur-ray @i-cant-get-into-my-other-account @rikuyrk06 @marina-and-the-memes