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#and in my mind they look practically the same too???
watchmegetobsessed · 2 days
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TOO SWEET
A/N: i know originally i teased something else with the hozier song, but this came to me when i saw the pics below and i just had to write them. also, i put the bruises on him so go easy on my photoshop skills lol
WORD COUNT: 1.5k
WARNING: mention of blood and bruises
SUMMARY: You and Harry are worlds apart, yet you can't let go of each other, not even when he stumbles into your home in the middle of the night, bruised and in pain.
MASTERLIST | SUPPORT ME!
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You wake to the sound of the front door closing and by the time his footsteps reach the bathroom down the hall you’re fully conscious. There was a time when you considered yourself a heavy sleeper, when the smallest noises could not bother you enough to wake from your dreams, but those days have been gone ever since Harry came into your life. 
You kind of knew what you were getting yourself into, his reputation and horrific stories about his dark deals were more than well-known around town and there was a time you never thought you’d get involved with him. You’re worlds apart, he is the fire that will burn you if you get too close, but it appears you’re the water that could take his danger out. Just one party, one glance across the room was enough to bound you two together and turn your life upside down. 
Surprisingly, you weren’t the only one fighting against the pull. In the beginning, Harry tried to keep him away from you just as much as you attempted to convince yourself he is nothing but trouble. You still remember what he told you one night when you met him at a dodgy bar against your better judgment. 
“I take my whiskey neat, my coffee black and my bed at three. You’re way too sweet for me, baby.”
It felt like he wasn’t even talking to you but to himself. His light green eyes were darker than ever as he stared down at your lips and you couldn’t figure out what you wanted more, to kiss him or to leave him. Even though what he said sounded a lot like a promise that he’ll step back, somehow you just ended up even closer. 
Life with Harry is like a rollercoaster that takes you through Hell and Heaven at the same time. When it’s good, it’s a high you’ve never experienced before, he is everything you want and could ever need, he fills your heart and eases your mind like no one can and you know he is the piece you’ve been searching for all your life.
But when it’s low… the darkness feels like a weight you can barely carry and it’s hard to remember what it was like when you were blossoming. 
You never asked Harry to stop his underworld deals, you know it’s practically impossible, but it’s also hard to live like this. Fearing every call you get, fighting intrusive thoughts about what might have happened to him every time he doesn’t answer your messages and then there are the nights like this, when he visits you in the middle of the night but it’s always for the wrong reason. 
The first time Harry appeared at your door at two am, blood running down his face, barely holding himself up, you got so worried he had to calm you even though he was the one with the injuries, but you just couldn’t stop crying and sobbing. 
Now you still get yourself worked up but you learned to keep your face straight as you clean his wounds or even stitch them, but it’s still just as much of a struggle emotionally to see the man you love like this all the time. 
You sit up in your bed as you hear him grunt before closing the bathroom door as quietly as he can and then the water starts running. Reaching for your phone on the nightstand you check the time, it’s just a little past three in the morning, the dim light of the streetlamps are the only source of light in your tiny bedroom, but even despite the darkness, it still feels bright and homey, you spent a lot of time to create this bubble for yourself and though Harry’s gruff and edgy presence feels the farthest from your colorful life, he still somehow belongs here, in your life.
Rubbing your eyes you stand up and look for the cardigan you know you left on the chair in the corner. When you find it you wrap yourself into it tight and take a moment to mentally prepare yourself for whatever you’ll see. From what you heard, he wasn’t limping so that’s a good start, but you still know there’s a whole lot that could be terrifyingly wrong with him to make him come to you instead of his place.
The water has stopped running by the time you make your way out of the bedroom and over to the bathroom. Light is flowing out underneath the door and you don’t know before simply twisting the knob and opening the door, revealing Harry sitting in the bathtub, bent forward, his curls wet and brushed back, bruises covering his shoulders, back and jawline, his bottom lip busted open.
Repentance fills his glimmering eyes when he looks at you and you know what he would say if his pride allowed him to speak.
“I’m sorry, baby. I’m so sorry. I want to be better for you, but it’s so hard.”
Walking over you kneel down next to the tub and cup his face with your palm, gentle and soft, not to hurt him and he melts into your touch in an instant. 
“I’m alright,” he rasps as you run your hand down his naked chest, over some of the bruises and you notice how he winces when your cold hand touches a vigorously dark mark on his collarbone. 
You’d do anything to free him from this dark world that keeps him as its prisoner, but ironically you know what kind of consequences one would have to endure to be set free and you fear those would take him from you forever. So every time you see the marks of this evil life on him, a piece of you dies. For him. 
“I’ll get you some pills,” you whisper and try to get up, but his hand grabs your arm, holding you back.
“Just… stay with me, please.” It’s a desperate plea you could never ignore, so you settle back onto the fuzzy rug next to the tub, one arm against his chest as he hugs it like a child, your thumb gently rubbing the side of his neck. But you don’t stay like that much longer. The urge to get closer to him grows unbearable, so you move to stand again and when you see the panic in his eyes you’re quick to calm him.
“I’m not going anywhere.”
Hesitantly, but he lets go of your arm and watches you as you undress yourself and join him in the tub, sitting behind him so you can hug him from behind, your chest melting against his back as your heartbeats sync. 
His head falls back onto your shoulder while your lips pepper kisses onto his every once in a while, your hands gently running up and down his front, eager to feel the softness of his skin. 
“You’re way too sweet for me,” he breathes out.
“Haven’t we been over this?” you ask with a soft smile. He lifts his head and then turns it so he can look at you. 
“I feel like I’m ruining you.”
“Don’t act like it’s all on you. I made a decision too and I chose to be with you.”
“You made a mistake,” he whispers and you see something dark, something desperate take over his face for a moment, but you’re quick to bring him back to you, like you always do.
Soothing his hair back, you pull him closer so your lips meet for the softest kiss. 
“You could never be a mistake,” you whisper against his lips and you feel him inhale sharply before he kisses you, harder and needier and you’re happy to give him whatever he demands from you. 
You stay in the tub until the water gets too cold. Then you grab him a shirt and a pair of underwear he left at yours a while ago and you move to the bedroom. He finally lets you get him some painkillers and you tell him to get in bed when he tries to randomly fix the jammed drawer of your desk. He loves to play the handyman when he’s over, but now is definitely not the time for that.
“Okay, doctor, gotcha,” he chuckles cheekily as he shuffles over to the bed. He watches you with a smirk as you’re moving around, grabbing another blanket before joining him in bed.
“What?” you ask when he just keeps looking at you smugly.
“You take so good care of me, baby. You know, there is one more thing I think I need to feel better.”
Reaching over he hooks a finger into the front of your shirt, tugging it down teasingly. 
“Oh, really?” you arch an eyebrow at him.
“Absolutely.”
Instead of a reply, you move closer and press two fingers into a bruise on his shoulder just enough to make him wince and flinch back from the pain.
“I think you need to stay away from physical activities, that’s the doctor’s order,” you scoff.
“Fuck, there was nothing sweet about that, damn!” he grunts, making you laugh. 
“But you love it when I put you into your place, don’t you?” Grinning you scoot closer, his arm curling around you instantly.
“I do. Only you can do that,” he smiles down at you.
Thank you for reading, please like and reblog if you enjoyed and buy me a coffee if you want to support me!
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r0-boat · 3 days
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Hiii would you mind if I make a request :3
Soooo, I've been thinking, how would the 5 demon king's would react when their s/o or MC (she/her if it's possible, if not genderneutral is ok uwu) is ovulating and she is all needy but doesn't say anything~
Because these men are truly more feral, like Beel's always sniffing us and getting aroused by our smell, or Leviathan having some kind of rut/heat and getting all attached to MC; these boys are more wild and animalistic (don't know if it's the correct way to describe it haha)
Thank you if you accept my request :3
Actually obsessed with this Ask.👀
Natural Pheromones
Whb headcanons
Cw: scent kink, Breeding Kink, scientifically explaining in a porn game lol
summary: AFAB!reader is ovulating and the demons are acting weird
This is very interesting to me considering the fact that demons can't have offspring on their own with each other unless they pray to Lilith or something. But they can have offspring with humans so it makes me think
Since demons have better chances having offspring with humans, perhaps demons just evolved to react to what a human is ovulating.
Solomon was born male he doesn't have the same natural pheromones that AFAB has. Demons who had never been in the human world will never know why they start feeling such a magnetic pull to you.
Did you change your hair? Was it perhaps new clothes? Maybe a new lotion or perfume? because you smell slightly sweeter. And is it just them, but is your skin softer too?
Beel was the most affected by this change; He could practically find you from miles away. Uncharacteristically clinging to you as soon as he finds you. Burying his nose against your neck. You ask him "is there something wrong?" And he just matters that he misses you.
Levi has been taking up his aggressive antics a notch because he's too stubborn for you to find out that he has been jerking his cock ever since you stepped foot in his castle. You have been driving him and his devil's crazy, and he hasn't had the foggiest idea why.
Lucifer has been having a little baby fever of his own since you visited. He wants to know what the child between the child of man and fallen angel would look like.
Mammon is in fucking rut, And no matter how much he fucks you, it's not enough. Draining his balls leaving him still unsatisfied.
Satan is starting to become a resource-guarding dog.
Devils will not leave you alone!! Sure you've been always surrounded by devils but this time you draw crowds, And if it isn't for the kings always around you these devils will be bang and brushing themselves against you desperate for your attention.
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rooksamoris · 2 days
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💞 — 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐕𝐀𝐆𝐀𝐁𝐎𝐍𝐃 𝐖𝐇𝐎 𝐀𝐕𝐎𝐈𝐃𝐒 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐎𝐀𝐒𝐈𝐒.
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💞 — in which jamil realizes that no matter how hard he avoid the oasis, the thirst will not disappear till it is quenched.
💞 — jamil viper x reader
💞 — warnings: hurt/comfort type fic. some descriptions of gore to emphasize yearning (the arabs be dramatic, what can i say)
💞 — 1.7k words. inspired by "sawwah" the song by abdel halim hafez. you should listen to it while reading tbh. first in a series of me assigning old school arabic songs to various characters. and yes, arabic speaking jamil is back. the translations are italicized with the arabic, and i changed some lyrics to fit third person, instead of first.
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Wa ana mashi fil bilad, sawwah.
And I walk through countries, a vagabond.
Jamil had a job. He was bound to eternal servitude to the Al-Asim family—practically property to Bait (house/clan) Al-Asim. He had a job, and yet he spent his nights away in his mind, wandering like a vagabond. Purposeless, jobless. 
All those nights toiling in the kitchen of Scarabia made him forget purpose and work were different things. He would never call working for that spoiled boy his purpose. He was made for more—to be praised, to rule and command. He deserved more. Jamil deserved more than having to push away his moon, his qamar (moon). 
You were like an oasis in the desert expanse that he called his mind, and yet he walked away from you. He walked away when he desperately needed a sip. When he desperately needed rest and dates from your palm.
“Qad jinint? (Have you become crazed?) I have too many things to deal with. And you’d be better off without the burden of my title. Imshi (Go on/walk off).”
Jamil saw it. He saw the way your expression faltered, the softest twitch in your brow, the smallest tremble of your lips. It was cruel, he knew it, and it hurt him to say it. But in the end, he knew there was nothing else he could say. There must have been a better way to delicately reject your confessions, and yet he took the harshest route. Jamil plucked the dates from your palm and trampled over them.
He hurt himself by doing so, denying himself the one thing he desperately wanted. In the end, it was simple. Mishwar baeed, wa hu gareeh. His life was a long journey that only injured him. He did not want it to injure you as well.
Still, his charcoal eyes would seek you out. He would still ask Kalim about you, wanting to know how the distance was affecting you. Did you become a vagabond as he did? Were you avoiding oases?
Did you ask about the brown-skinned boy who broke your heart? He just wanted to be reassured—tamainu (reassure him)—that his qamar was doing alright. Wa in la’akum habibi, salamuli alai, he wanted to tell Kalim. If you see my love, wish them peace from me.
He would never ask you himself, nor did he get the chance to since you would scurry off whenever he passed by. The one place he could not avoid you was the kitchen of Scarabia, his domain, during one of Kalim’s parties. You were hiding away from the madness, and he had been trying to hide away from you. It was the same spot in which you cooked with him, listened to him, and were eventually rejected by him.
Jamil froze after walking in, and you turned your head up from your phone once you saw him, “I’m sorry,” you said, pushing yourself off of the counter and heading for the other door. You could not face him, not after that rejection. Not after he told you that your feelings were that of a crazed djinni (genie/jinn).
He shook his head and walked to the stove top, turning it on, “Stay. I’ll make chai,” he muttered. He did not even look at you.
You still wanted to leave, but instead, you just nodded. Honestly, you were a fool for the man, for that long dark brown hair which he braided so perfectly, and his aquiline nose which you desperately wanted to trace your finger along, “I don’t want to trouble you—”
“It’s no trouble. It gives me an excuse to get away from Kalim.”
You swallowed and nodded.
The silence was horrifically uncomfortable. The only sounds in the kitchen were the boiling water in the kettle and the sound that the mortar and pestle made while Jamil began to grind the herbs for the tea. Chai, cloves, cardamom—he added cinnamon this time. The scent always made everything more cozy.
Ya qamar, ya nasini. Oh moon who forgets me. Jamil hoped you would have gotten over your feelings for him and forgotten about the rejection, but he could tell it stung. The way you looked around the kitchen proved that enough. He poured the evaporated milk into the tea, let it simmer with the racing of his heart, and then poured both of you cups. He was gentle as he set your cup in front of you, unlike the savagery that he handled your heart with. 
Jamil leaned against the island, his eyes trailing over your face, “Are you—”
“I’m fine,” you blurted, holding the cup of tea. Waseitak, waseiya, ya shahid aleiya, “I promised you—you heard. You saw,” you elaborated, “I’m fine.” Tekilu ala beiyak. You could have told him of the state you were in after the rejection, but you opted for lies veiled by a fake grin.
He understood. He did not let you see past his veil either, “I see.” 
“The tea is great.”
“Thanks.”
There it was, another uncomfortable silence. His eyes said it all, though. Had you looked close enough, you would have seen how they ached to sacrifice themselves for you. He wished his worries for you would leave him alone—he would have gouged his eyes out just to make the aching in his heart disappear. It was curling in on itself, threatening to burst with the violence of a desert storm, sand filled his lungs, suffocating him. The weeks felt like years, and he was just a nomad in the night.
“I didn’t mean what I said,” he set his cup down.
You immediately frowned and put your teacup down as well, scared you would drop in, “You don’t get to say that now,” you mumbled.
Jamil nodded in agreement. It was cruel, rejecting you so harshly just to turn around and claim he did not mean any of it. Especially when he still did find you crazy for loving him as ardently as you claimed, “It’s wrong. I know,” he said, looking away from you and to the door where all the commotion was. The music was muffled by the shut doors, making the kitchen feel like an entirely different building, “But I… I feel the same.”
That was another lie. He did not just feel the same, Jamil longed for you. He yearned, his heart ached and his veins begged to be torn out for your sake. Every cell in his body called for your name, his hands begged to grasp your waist, kiss your neck—his hands which artfully painted henna, wished they could trace every curve and every dip on your body.
“Jamil…” you trailed off.
He merely shook his head, “It is because I feel the same that I must reject you. You—you have so much more waiting in your life without me. My suffering should not be yours,” he said, and he said it as if it were the law of the universe. He was a vagabond eternally bound to avoid the oases because the oases were not meant for him. They were meant for Kalim Al-Asim.
Despite all that, he did not push you away when you cupped his face. He did not protest as he drowned. He did not thrash, he did not fight. His body did as it wished, leaning into your hands, “Ya qamar… you are making this more difficult than it needs to be,” he muttered, the disdain dying before it could embrace the quiet air of the kitchen.
You frowned at him—sevens, he wanted to kiss that mouth of yours—and your brows furrowed, “Let me, Jamil. Just let me,” you said. What did you want him to let you do? You had no clue, or perhaps it was just too broad to describe.
Nawarli, wararili, seitak al-habayeb.
Enlighten and show me the path to the beloveds.
He was so weak when it came to you. Before he knew it, his hands were at the small of your back, pulling you closer and forcing you to arch against him as his lips met yours in a fierce kiss. He sighed into your mouth, his tongue slipping in when you gasped in surprise.
Jamil needed you even closer. His hands made their way down to your hips, his thumbs slipping under the hem of your shirt to feel your skin. It was just as nice as he dreamed it would be. What made it all the better was how you kissed him back.
One of your hands gripped his shirt, right at his chest, right above his cruel racing heart, and the other held the back of his head. The quietest of whimpers escaped you as he bit your bottom lip, causing him to groan. 
He pressed you against the counter, causing your hand to slip from his chest and move to hold onto the surface behind you. You kissed him till you could not breathe, “Ja—Jamil,” you stammered when your lips parted from his. 
Greedily, he went in and kissed you some more. Jamil had taken a sip, and now he wanted it all. He only pulled away when your hands pressed against his chest to push him away. His eyes widened and his hands fell back to his sides. He pulled the hood down to hide his face from you as he turned his head, “Sorry,” he muttered.
“It’s—It’s fine,” you replied, fixing your clothes and hair, “Are we…” you let the question hang like a date on a palm tree.
He nodded, “If you’ll still have me,” he replied. What he wanted to do was get on his knees and beg you to use your lips to end his suffering—beg that you use those hands to pull the sand out of his chest.
“Of course, I’d still have you, Jamil,” 
Your words were like a soothing balm. It was the salve that you spread over his burns, over his scars, and over the bruises that his yearning created, “Okay,” he said, and it was all he could manage to say for now. 
He picked up the kettle of tea and poured you some more. No matter what he did, he could not run away from you, his purpose. You forced the vagabond to stop and pulled the title right off of him, before pushing him into the waters of the oasis.
“We have some ma’amoul (semolina biscuit stuffed with date filling),” he says, after some silence.
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blarshwritezz · 23 hours
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Yandere psychopath boyfriend x male reader. You discover that your boyfriend killed people and try to leave the forest where he lived, but you end up being caught by him. He decides to punish you through the bed with rough sex and overstimulation
I fw this
Yandere Psychopath bf x Reader
M yan x M reader
TW - general yandere behavior, NSFW, murder, noncon
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Your boyfriend has always been...strange, but you never expected this. You thought he just liked nature, and that was why he lived in a cabin in the woods. You thought he liked the peace, like you did. That he just enjoyed growing his garden and living practically entirely off the grid. The seclusion...that was a better way to put it.
You couldn't look at him the same since you saw it. Since you saw him killing someone in cold blood. He had the nerve to act so lovingly to you when he did something like that.
You couldn't get it out of your mind. The way that poor man's blood covered him, the pool of red standing the grass and seeping into the dirt. The way he chopped up his victim and stuffed the bits into a bag. The bag he used for his fertilizer.
You clearly weren't safe. You had to leave.
One night, while he was asleep, you snuck out and ran. You ran like your life depended on it. Because it did.
You didn't make it far. A trap. He had traps set up all over the place. A large net caught you, forcing you off the ground. You struggled to get out, but your adrenaline eventually wore off.
You didn't know how long it was until he came along, holding a bloody knife. "Aw, darling, were you trying to get out? I guess that means you know my nasty little secret, huh?"
He cut you out of the net, not giving you a second to even try running before he grabbed you by the scalp and dragged you back, kicking and screaming. "You should know you aren't allowed to run. I'm gonna have to punish you now."
Getting back to the cabin, he forced you upstairs and threw you on the bed. Before you could scramble to get away, he once again grabbed your scalp and forced you to kiss him, shoving his tongue down your throat.
His free hand, still holding the knife he had, cut your clothes off. He finally discarded the knife and started to roughly jerk you off.
He only broke the kiss when you were practically suffocating. "You think you can run away from me, huh? Think you can just leave?" He roughly bit into your shoulder, licking up the blood he drew. "No, I don't think so. You're mine. All fucking mine."
Letting go of your head, he shoved two of his fingers down your throat. "Suck."
When he was satisfied, or tired of it, he yanked out his fingers, only to suddenly shove them deep inside your hole. He stretched you wide, getting your insides nice and wet before suddenly replacing his fingers with his cock.
He didn't waste a second to start pounding into you like a wild beast. He bit you more, leaving bleeding marks all across your shoulders, neck, collarbone, and chest.
"Thought you could get away with trying to leave me, huh?" A harsh smack echoed through the room as he spanked you. "Think you're too good for me or something?" And another. "You're mine." Another. "And I'm going to fuck it into you until you can't even walk out of this room."
He continued to thrust into you, hitting against that special spot harder and harder. He didn't stop, not for a second.
Even when you came, the first time of many that night, he only got rougher.
He didn't give a second of rest, and he wasn't going to. Not until he made you a moaning, sobbing, drooling mess begging for his forgiveness. Then he'd go back to the loving and gentle boyfriend you knew. But only once he was sure you understood not to leave him.
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I feel like the end was a bit rushed tbh
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httpshujii · 3 days
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WHAT A TEASE !
Kaeya x f!reader
ᯓ Kaeya's new obsession.
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"Never had your first kiss?"
He already knew that. But in order not to embarrass you further than you already look, he won't tease about it just yet.
But this is Kaeya that we're talking about. He'll find a way to tease you sooner rather than later.
He's relishing in the sight of you, all shy and nervous in front of him. Nimble fingers fiddling with your sleeve. And there he sits with that stupid smirk on his face, an eye tracing his sweet lover's face.
He's aware of how different this whole situation is for you. This is your first relationship, relying on ink on paper to teach you about a world of hopeless romantics and affection.
But it's very different in the real world. Books don't teach you how to adapt into relationships. Books don't teach you how to kiss or hug or cuddle. It came so naturally in fantasies but why is it so hard in reality?
The inner turmoil raging inside you is left unanswered. It shouldn't be that hard, right? It's just a kiss…
Sensing your troubles, Kaeya reaches for your hands and pulls you in between his legs, "What ails you, my love?"
You shake your head, dismissing his concern. But Kaeya is persistent, nothing should bother your mind, he wouldn't allow it.
"Come on, speak to me, you know you can," he watches you blush, a small smile gracing his lips, "you're shyer than usual."
His tone is playful, boyish. Teasing. His fingers lace with yours, dragging his gaze down to your nibbled lips, he doesn't it like it when you bite on them, that's his job.
You don't speak, he tilts his head, "Do you want me to kiss you?"
You nod your head, not daring to meet his studying eye.
"Do you want me to teach you?"
Another nod and he stands up, towering over you.
"Can't say I'll make it easy though," he chuckles, leaning down to press a loud smooch to your cheek. You're so cute. So innocent, "my precious girl, so adorable, hm?"
Another kiss to your cheek and you're practically fuming. Smoke escaping your ears as your cheeks burning bright with heat.
His kisses near your mouth and you hesitantly tilt away, he giggles, enjoying this a little too much. He lifts your arms around his neck, his cold hands sliding down to squeeze the plush of your waist.
"We'll take it nice 'n slow, just mold your lips against mine…" he whispers against your lips, pressing his to yours so gently. So slowly it feels dangerously scandalous. But just as he kisses you, he pulls away to whisper unnecessary instructions and praises when all you want is a proper kiss.
"Mmm, that's it."
"Tilt your head a little- yes…good girl."
"My love, you're doing so well."
You're shivering with emotion, you're anxious, frustrated, and excited at the same time. But the only indication is a whine that leaves your throat, "you're being mean, Kaeya."
"Do you really think that?" Yes. And he thinks so to. He's being mean, being the biggest tease ever. You nod, he laughs. Kissing your pouty lips, "How so, darling?"
You don't want to say why. It's embarrassing and makes you feel like the ultimate fool. You don't want to say that he's pulling away too quickly, and you don't want him to laugh at you and poke at you for being paranoid.
You know how he is by now. Though still fresh in the relationship, you'd expect him to have a heart towards a first-timer, no? You huff, pulling your face away and frowning. You should probably tell him why. But you won't.
With a frustrated sigh, you squish his face between your hands and latch your lips with his. He's surely caught of guard with the way his hands squeeze your hips tightly. But he doesn't pull away, wouldn't dare to.
His girl made the first move, and you aren't like him. You aren't a tease, you really want this and it's only proper to respect that. Your kiss is eager, passionate, loving. Not similar to his slow, romantic, and casual kisses.
He's dumbfounded, you're expressing an unspoken love towards him, affection that feels familiar despite only dating for two weeks now. He realized early on that it doesn't feel right to not have his hands on you in any given time, he notices the way his fingers twitch during random times of the day, opting to squeeze his hand around his sword's handle to ease the fantasy of squeezing your sides to make you laugh.
He finds himself leaning into you, succumbing to the strong temptation of your desperation. You part for a second, noses bumping into each other oceans collide once again.
Kaeya loves kissing you. It's his new obsession, his new way to pass the time. He could kiss you every second of the day if he could. You taste so good, too good.
After what feels like forever, your hearts relax, yours lips part, and your foreheads meet.
"I like it when you take the lead." He muses.
"And I don't."
He kisses you again, softer than the first. Handling you with care. He won in love. Your first relationship and kiss owned by him and him alone. And he'll own many other firsts to come.
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@kaiser1ns @okkalo
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billthedrake · 1 day
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FAMILY BUSINESS
"You want another, son?" Frank Mazza asked as he and his son Anthony sat in the living room of Frank's townhouse. Thursdays after work were generally dad-and-son time, a chance to catch up outside of work. It was pretty much the same every week. Two beers before Tony went back to the "luxury apartment" he shared with his girlfriend Becky. The TV on mute as ESPN or some sports game played. Conversation drifting between small talk to serious matters and back to small talk.
Every Thursday Frank asked his son if he wanted a third beer, and every Thursday Tony declined. Frank gathered Tony wasn't pussy whipped or anything, but the two had shared enough guy talk to know the 24-year-old never liked to miss a day when it came to sex and if he came home too late, or too drunk, Becky wouldn't put out.
The Mazza men had shared a lot more guy talk lately.
Tony lifted up his bottle and gave it a glance before finishing it off with a final swig. The kid had the killer Mazza smile and those soulful brown eyes that made him a ladies man in high school and in his fraternity days at college. "Yeah, sound good, Dad," he said. "Though I'll have to take an Uber or something."
Frank cracked a grin and patted Tony's knee with his big mitt of a hand before he hoisted his beefy body up. "You're always welcome to crash in the spare room."
Tony grinned. "You ever gonna put away all my football trophies?" he laughed.
Frank chuckled. "It's still your room, Tone... I guess a father never gets over the empty nest thing."
Tony rolled his eyes some but didn't lose that Mazza smile. "Empty nest? Dad, we see each other practically every day. More than after the divorce."
Frank winced a little in the grimace. That had been tough. He still didn't know if he'd made the right move divorcing Janice when he did. It killed him to think he'd put his son through that and selfishly he knew it had made his relationship with Tone a lot tougher for a lot of years. "Yeah," he said softly.
"Come on, Dad," Anthony objected. "I didn't mean it like that."
Frank nodded and went to get two more beers. He felt relieved when he came back and indeed Tony was in one of his relaxed, happy go lucky moods.
"Long day," the son said as he took a sip.
"Now you know how I've felt all these years," Frank said. It wasn't that Frank Mazza didn't value being a family man, but he'd always been a workaholic. He loved being in the provider role, maybe, and certainly loved the satisfaction of an honest day's work, maybe it was more satisfying than the emotional connections he sometimes had a hard time with in marriage.
Anthony shrugged. "I don't mind the hours when I know I'm working for myself."
Frank grinned. He was 44 now and thick-muscular Italian looks were now more clearly handsome. Gray temples set off his tan face and his otherwise dark hair. And his clean-shaven scruff made his dark complexion more alluringly masculine. "You know... I didn't expect you'd come back and join the business," he said, opening up with that third beer.
Tony grinned. "Yeah, Dad. I know. But I never had a doubt I wanted to... I mean... you worked hard to build the business up, I wanna do the Mazza name proud."
Frank worried he was going to get emotional. He and Tone had a rough patch when he was in high school, and he knew for sure that once the kid went off to college and got the degree his father never did... well, Frank expected Tony to never look back.
Instead, Mazza Contractors became Mazza and Son. They joked that Frank was the Brawn and Tony was the brains. It wasn't like his son wasn't muscular in his own right - a former tight end in high school and a regular devotee of the gym these days, Tony was downright buff. But he had a Bachelors in Business Administration and a good head for accounting. Tony was already the one interfacing with clients, generally well-to-do suburbanites looking for an upscale kitchen or bathroom remodel job. More than Frank, he knew how to talk those fuckers' language and how to placate demanding Karens. And when needed, Frank would show up to assure them of that blue-collar work ethic.
"So..." Frank said, changing the subject. "Becky not expecting you home?"
Tony shook his head. He had a look that was a mix of wounded and defiant. "Nah, we broke up."
"What?" the father said. Maybe because Tony had rekindled things with his high school sweetheart after graduation, he expected this one to last. "Sorry to hear, son."
Tony shrugged. "It's all right. It kind of sucks, but I was the one to call things off."
Frank leaned forward, his brown eyes showing that parental concern. "Can I ask what the problem was?"
Gone was that Mazza smile as Tony explained. "It's just... you know how Becky is very independent. You know, the career woman type... I don't know, Dad... I think I need someone more traditional."
"Traditional?" Frank questioned.
Tony grinned. "Yeah, you know, kind of like you and Mom. The wife staying home, taking care of things, the man being the bread winner. That kind of thing."
Frank patted Tony's shoulder in reassurance. "I know times have changed," he said. "But I'm pretty sure there are some traditional women out there."
Tony nodded. "Probably, yeah."
Frank leaned in and sais in a quiet, conspiratorial tone. "Just be careful... some of the traditional girls... well, they sometimes expect to be spoiled some. Particularly if they're pretty."
Tony laughed. "I know Mom was a princess, Dad," he said. "You don't have to mince words."
Frank clapped Tone's firm shoulder and withdrew his hand. "Guess not. Look... I made a promise I was never gonna speak ill of your mother to ya. But I'll just say there were times I wish I'd been supported more at home. After a ten hour day, sometimes a man just wants to be pampered a little when he gets home, you know?"
Tony's eyes met his. "That's it in a nutshell, Dad. It's just us guys, right?" the son asked as a prelude to what he was about to say. Not all fathers and sons talked openly about sex, but Frank never seemed to have any hangups, and since Tony had first gone to college they reconnected almost like buddies as much as family.
"Yeah," Frank assured him. "Just us guys."
"Becky was nice and all... and in my way I loved her, Dad. Still do.. but, fuck... I'd get home from the office and she'd be yammering about all her work crap and I'd just want to kick back and get a fucking blowjob."
Tony's crude words didn't shock Frank. Just as Frank's never shocked Tony.
"I hear ya, son," the man said. "Your old man's not one to be handing out dating advice, but you should find a girl who likes giving head and doesn't mind giving it."
Tony grinned. "Had one girl in college who did. But she was a stuck up bitch," he said. "She thought she was slumming it by going out with an Italian dude... I guess we both used each other."
Frank grinned. He had a good idea which girl Tone was talking about.
But his son's train of thought had already moved on. "Well, it's a hell of a lot easier with guys."
Frank's eyes went wide. He'd had a couple experiences like that under his belt. But the father-son chats had never gone there, not even in their most buddy-buddy candidness. "You done that, Tone?"
His son took a sip of beer and nodded. "It's easy as ordering fucking takeout, Dad," he laughed. "You go on your phone, see what's on the menu, pick out a cocksucker... and then it's pick up or delivery." His accent was now half North Jersey, half generic college-bro, but as he talked crudely, his thicker Jersey side won out.
Frank laughed. His mind was going to where he tried not to let it go. To the idea of his own son's cock and some man servicing it. "Easier than when I was your age," the father blurted out.
Now it was Anthony's turn to be surprised. "You done that, too, Pop?"
Frank blushed, but he didn't want to seem like the shy one. "Well, maybe a little younger than you... before I married your mother... sure, but it was more buddies helping each other out, you know?"
Anthony gave a half-shrug, half-nod that said he'd never had that kind of arrangement with his friends. Then his lips curled into a naughty smile. "You, uh, interested in some fun, Dad?" he asked.
Frank gulped. His mind was definitely going somewhere it shouldn't. And at that moment he wished his only son wasn't so goddamn handsome.... "Whaddya mean?" he asked softly.
Tony pulled out his phone and swiped to open it. "There's one guy who always drops everything when I hit him up," he typed the phone screen a couple times and looked up. "He's really fucking good, Dad... my favorite lately... I'm sure he'd be up for taking care of you, too."
"I don't know, Tone," Frank said, caution kicking in.
But his son was undeterred. "Come on, Dad, it'll be fun..." Then leaning back, he flashed that Mazza smile to his father and asked, "when was the last time you got laid?"
Frank shook his head. "I'm not sure this is something a father discusses with his son."
"It's just us guys, Dad," Tony countered. "How long?"
Frank blushed again. "Eight months."
"Jesus fucking Christ," his son swore. He went back to messaging the online cocksucker. "You're definitely getting some head tonight."
The burly, blue collar man thought he'd be pissed at Tony for being bossy like this. But he was secretly glad. He needed to get out of his comfort zone. Maybe Tone was onto something, using guys until the right woman came along. And he even more secretly he felt a thrill at seeing his normally good-kid of a son have a naughty sexual side. A take charge side.
"There," Tony said with a laugh as he set down his phone. "Told ya. He'll be over in fifteen minutes."
Fear came again to the Dad. "Is he... um gonna do both of us? At the same time?" The idea thrilled Frank but scared the hell out of him too.
Tony shook his head. Eyes meeting his father's for that brief moment of illicit knowledge passed between them. Tony imagining that incestuous scenario but he laughed it off. "Fuck that would be wild... ha, no, we'll take turns. He knows you're my dad, though... I think that turns the fucker on... hope you don't mind."
"No," Frank replied quietly. Then looking into Tony's brown eyes, he asked, "He's good, you say?"
"The best," the son replied. He nudged Frank's arm. "Seriously, he's gonna put those high school buddies of yours to shame."
Frank was still nervous when the guy showed up. Ian was his name. Good looking, gym built gay dude in his late 30s. Surprisingly comfortable being led in by Tony.
"Ian... this is my Dad. Dad, this is Ian," Tony said. Weirdly confident and relaxed. "Ok, if I go first? I could fuck a hole in the wall I'm so horny."
Frank felt a tightness in his crotch. He'd shared guy talk with Tone, but never seen his boy quite like this. He just gave a nod and watched his son lead Ian down the hall.
The wait was interminable. But was really five minutes tops. Then Tony strutted in, face flushed, a smile showing. That recognizable just-got-laid relaxation on his face.
"Your turn, Dad. He's waiting in my room for ya."
"Thanks," Frank said, standing up. He considered backing out, but he was too turned on now. He wasn't as nearly self conscious as he should have been by the hardon his son could see or the smirk Tony flashed when he saw it.
Ian was waiting for him all right. Sitting on Tony's old bed, surrounded by his son's old stuff that Frank kept in that second bedroom, all the posters and the football trophies. The man was unzipped and had a cock in hand and a horny look on his face.
"God, I can't believe this," the cocksucker said.
Frank didn't know a lot of gay guys, but this guy was rearranging a lot of his hang ups fast. He looked at the guy's dick. The first he'd seen up close and personal in a long time. He shut the bedroom door and locked it. Then turned to Ian.
"Ok, if I suck you?" he asked. He was almost too chicken to ask, but he knew he'd never get a chance like this again.
Ian's eyes went wide in surprise for a second, then he let go of his prick, a solid tool nearing seven inches and standing ramrod straight as the man leaned back on his arms on Tony's bed. "Sure, man... go for it."
Frank Mazza was running on adrenaline. The way he crouched down and got in place. Like he'd seen chicks do in porn. He was like one of those bimbos, he thought, but the idea didn't scare him like he thought. It turned him the fuck on.
"God yes," Ian hissed as Frank started taking that dick into his mouth. "Suck me, Daddy."
Hell, this was fucking with Frank's mind. He bobbed faster and deeper. He choked some and Ian had to tell him to go slower. He did and gradually he got into a good rhythm, a nice balance between speed and depth.
THIS felt incredible, the father decided. Not like those truth-or-dare experiments or those BJ swaps with his high school buddies. This was raw intense sex between meen. Frank was 44 and just now discovering how right this felt for him. He sucked more furiously, happy his gag reflex was holding off. Barely but holding off.
Even as cum pulsed into his throat. Ian didn't bother to announce his orgasm. Didn't matter: Frank would have swallowed that load greedily. He almost didn't want to relinquish that prick, but Ian was getting sensitive.
"Damn... you should definitely treat your son to THAT," he laughed. "That's some great head."
Frank leaned up. He was beyond thinking straight, he was horny as hell and hard in his jeans. "What?" he asked.
Ian grinned. "Dude, you're both such pervs... Tony couldn't stop talking about you the whole time I blew him."
"For real?" Frank asked excitedly, not concealing what he wanted the answer to be.
"For real," the man assured him. Then reading the older man's face, he added, "That turns you on, doesn't it?"
Frank nodded, tears welling up a little, but his dick hard as steel.
Ian grinned and reached down to rub Frank's crotch and unbutton him. "I wanna suck you too, man... first son, then father... total fantasy on a silver platter."
Frank grunted and nodded. And then watched as an experienced cocksucker crouched down and slowly, expertly brought him off to a deep cum.
The two got straightened up and Ian got a suddenly sheepish look on his face. "If I give you my number, will you let me know if anything happens between you two?"
Frank could tell the incest thing was a big turn on for this guy. But was feeling less comfortable now. "I don't know, man."
"Come on... just take my number. You don't have to tell me anything too private. Hell if you just wanna hit me up for some no-strings fun, that's cool."
"Yeah," Frank relented. He had to admit that idea was appealing.
Ian gave a quick wave as he walked past Tony. "Later, man."
"Yep," Tony half waved and went back to watching sports.
Frank realized he had a similarly primal look of sexual satisfaction his son did a while ago. But as he sat down, he realized that maybe something more had transpired that evening. That maybe the genie was out of the bottle.
He looked over at his son. He had the Mazza nose and jaw line, along with some of his mother's good looks. Tony was a stunner, all right, just the kind of young stud that was just "nice" and approachable to get women to put out.
Frank thought about what it would be like to suck his son's cock.
Tony caught his father looking. He glanced over with a wink. "Ian's good, right, Dad?"
Frank blushed and nodded, turning his attention back to the TV and picking up the beer for a much needed gulp. It was half-warm but he didn't care. The man was parched now. "Yep, Tone," he finally replied. "Like you said... the best."
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morganski-19 · 2 days
Text
part 1, part 2
Dustin visits the next day, sitting next to Wayne with the same book he’s had for the past few days. Turning to the page that was dog-eared, reading. Voices and all. Just like Eddie does when he’s practicing for one of those campaigns. Claiming that it’s better to get it down with someone else’s words so he can improvise. So he doesn’t have to memorize some script and can be in the moment. Let his mind do the workings along with the players. 
It’s one of the many parts of Eddie that Wayne sees in this kid. The dramatics, the drive. The snobbiness about certain things that don’t really matter to the rest of the world. But it matters to them, so it matters to the people who care about them too. 
If Eddie were awake, he might yell at the kid for turning the corner of a page instead of using a bookmark. Even though all the books he gets are second-hand and already torn and bent in all sorts of ways. But it’s about keeping the art pristine. The author put their heart and soul into this work, it’s not meant to be sullied. Wayne saw Eddie bend the corner of a page a million times over though, he just likes making a big stink about nothing. Just to get a rise out of people, make them laugh. Wayne can imagine that Eddie liked to make Dustin laugh a lot. 
“Have the doctors said anything new?” Dustin asks after finishing the chapter. 
Wayne shakes his head. “Same old, same old. Don’t worry about it too much though, he wouldn’t want you to.”
“He wouldn’t want a lot of the things that happened over the past week. So he’ll have to deal with it.” After a pause, he asks, “How are you doing?”
That makes Wayne laugh. “You don’t have to go worryin’ about me either. You’re just a kid.”
“And you’re just a man waiting for your kid to wake up. The same way I’m waiting for my friend to wake up. At the end of the day, we’re all still people. That sometimes need a break. So, how are you doing?”
It’s scary how much Wayne sees Eddie in this kid. “It’s hard comin’ here to hear the same thing every day.” That’s all Wayne’s willing to say to a kid. 
Hard is definitely a word most people would use to describe his situation. Difficult, disheartening. Maybe even hopeless. But there’s still some hope in this old heart that keeps Wayne coming back day in and day out. Keeps him moving while only getting a few hours of sleep a day. Cause as soon as the night comes around, it’s right back to the plant. Making the money to pay for the care his boy needs to keep living. To pay for the roof over his own head enough so he’ll live to see it happen. 
Truth is, Wayne’s dying here. From the fatigue. From the endless waiting. From the slowly draining pool of hope. Nothing seems to change. Nothing gets better. Six days in a medically induced coma with no hopes of ever waking up. Wayne’s not dumb enough to think that the chances increase the more days pass without him showing any signs of improvement. 
Part of him says that this is the state Eddie will be in for the rest of his life. Wonders if it’s worth all of this just to keep him alive. If he’s really suffering in there and would be better off resting forever. But then the heart monitor keeps beeping and his brain is still active. Wayne’s boy is still in there, he’ll come back soon. 
“Yeah, I bet that’s hard. I still have hope though, I was there when he came in. He looks a lot better now.”
There’s a knock on the door that keeps Wayne from responding. It’s the Harrington boy, in normal clothes this time. Discharged. 
“Sorry to interrupt but your mom said it’s time to go home.”
Dustin dramatically rolls his eyes. “Which one, my actual mother or you?”
“Your actual mother, but I happen to agree with her. Come on, you got school in the morning.” Harrington crosses his arms, looking like he’s ready to start a standoff. 
But instead of fighting Dustin stands. “Have a good night Mr. Munson. I’ll still try to visit as much as I can even though school’s starting back up again.”
“Thanks, kid, I’ll try.”
Harrington ruffles Dustin’s hair as he walks out the doorway. Standing there for a beat before turning back to Wayne. “We’ve never officially met, I’m Steve.”
Steve holds out his hand, waiting for Wayne to shake it. Wayne debates whether that’s a good idea or not. Apparently, it takes too long as Steve returns his hand to his side. 
“I wanted to apologize for the scene I made the other day, you didn’t deserve that. I was just so shocked that they actually cuffed him to the bed. Still have him cuffed to the bed.” Steve looks at Eddie with a guilt that Wayne doesn’t understand. Like he’s the reason Eddie’s strapped to the bed. 
Wayne continues to say nothing, not quite sure what would be appropriate. Tell him that it’s ok, that it didn’t bother him. Or thank him for believing that Wayne knew was true. That his boy was innocent. 
There was more to this story than he knew. Something to do with the kid being there and the rich boy standing in the doorway looking like this is all his fault. When Wayne knows the same scars mark Steve just as much as they do Eddie. Steve made sure that everyone knew that. Using it as proof that Steve was there, and that Eddie was innocent. 
Steve was ready to offer himself up as a witness for a man that the town hates. Wayne should be grateful for that, but it doesn’t seem right. They were part of different worlds. Different status, interests. It didn’t make sense for them to be in the same place at all. Yet here they are supposedly having gone through the same vicious attack. 
“Let me know if you need anything,” Steve continues when Wayne stays silent. “I’m more than happy to help out. Eddie was kind of a new friend and I hate seeing him like this as much as you do.”
“I seriously doubt that,” Wayne snaps. He hates charity, especially from this kid. For some reason he doesn’t really understand why. 
Steve is taken aback. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to offend.”
“I’m sure you didn’t, but you did. I know my boy and I know how my boy thinks about people like you. So don’t go ‘round gaining sympathy points from the real people who are suffering.”
“I, I wasn’t,” Steve stammers. “I would never.”
“Steve,” Dustin yells. “Get your ass moving, we’re your ride too.”
Steve sighs. “Coming, Jesus. I’m sorry for offending you. I won’t bother you again.”
Wayne shakes his head when Steve leaves, letting out a deep sigh. Maybe he was too harsh, maybe he wasn’t harsh enough. He’s not sure. 
He’s not sure about a lot of things anymore.
tag list, let me know if you want to be added or removed: @the-they-who-nerded, @insteviewetrust, @croatoan-like-its-hot, @jettestar, @tinyplanet95, @steddie-as-they-go, @slv-333, @littlecelestialmoth, @thatonebadideapanda, @fandomsanddeath, @marismorar, @wonderland-girl143-blog, @glass-bottle03, @gutterflower77, @here4thetrama, @goodolefashionedloverboi, @jaytriesstuff, @cryptid-system, @manda-panda-monium, @resident-gay-bitch, @anaibis, @xxsutherlandxx, @forevermineliv, @mugloversonly, @gregre369, @n0-1-important, @different-tale-student, @spectrum-spectre, @tartarusknight, @devondepresso, @swimmingbirdrunningrock, @cheertain, @anti-ozzie, @autumncrocusandladybug, @greeniebean911, @cr0w-culture, @stillfullofshit, @connected-dots, @daisynotquake, @morgannotlefay, @a-little-unsteddie, @dolphincliffs,
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katelynnwrites · 10 hours
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i can do it with a broken heart | laura freigang
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warnings: angst with no happy ending
word count: 831
summary: you're determined to fake it 'til you make it, even with a broken heart. also known as your the reader's perspective of down bad
a/n: the third installation of my 'the anthology' blurbs series
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you can feel laura’s gaze on you, from across the locker room.
a few short weeks ago, you would have blushed and teasingly told her that it’s rude to stare.
now, it makes your heart clench so you plaster a large smile on your face and turn to look at tanja, starting an intentionally cheerful conversation.
it is impossibly hard for you to ignore the blonde, especially when her eyes are on you again, this time in the club as you and your teammates celebrate the club’s win.
in stilettos, you have a drink in hand, a pretty sequined dress on and your makeup is done to perfection.
she’s sitting alone, at a table by the side of the bar and you can practically read her mind. you know her well enough for that.
‘she’s having the time of her life.’
well you can show her lies.
you can show up to trainings on time. you can attend every team bonding with a bright expression. you can do it all. even if it’s killing you inside.
because you’re a real tough kid. you can handle your shit.
after all they say you gotta fake it ‘til you make it. and you will.
so the one thing on your mind, repeating over and over as you push through each and every day is ‘lights, camera, bitch smile.’
even when you wanna die, you will do it.
your ex said she would love you all her life.
you believed her. you still do because you see the dark circles she has. she’s clearly devastated and barely holding herself together.
and you know it is all your fault for breaking up with her.
but you had to. had to because you love her so much. you trust her excessively and before you fall any harder for her, you needed to stop yourself.
it would have hurt too much when you landed and you know that if you allowed laura to love you the way she wanted any longer, there would be no coming back from that kind of pain.
so for your own sake, you had to leave her. even though it gives you overwhelming guilt to break her heart.
but you can grin like you’re winning and you can hit all your marks.
you’re playing better than ever because you know you are good. you know you’re good because you can do it, even with a broken heart.
you cry a lot now that you have left the striker but you are still so productive that one could consider it an art.
really, it’s only through the extensive uses of subtle makeup, face masks, cooling eye packs and the odd frozen metal teaspoon that no one has noticed it yet.
most of your relationship with laura was spent staying over in her apartment but there were nights that were spent in yours.
more than a few if the way you keep finding her things in your drawers is anything to go by.
first it was a old penn state sweatshirt. the next, one of her retro frankfurt jerseys.
now it’s her favourite pair of jeans.
you choke on your tears when you find it among your own clothes.
she’d worn them to your first date.
laura might keep looking at you but she avoids you like the plague otherwise. she doesn’t want to walk near your cubby in the locker room or be in the same training group as you.
she must hate you and you can’t blame her.
it is part of the reason why you cannot bear to return any of her things to her. they are the last tangible memories you have left of her, crucial evidence that for a brief time, you had the love of your life.
you feel like you’re drowning in your grief now but you can hold your breath.
because you’re a real tough kid. you can handle your shit. there is no reason to drag the german woman back into it, if she would even deign to give you the time of day.
so breaking down, you’ll hit the floor. all the pieces of you shattering as the fans chant, ‘more!’.
you might be depressed and you might be struggling but you will be damned if you’re not doing your best.
you will show up at trainings and team bondings on time, with a happy grin fixed on your face. you will only post the most positive and staged content on your social medias and you will not let any of your teammates or most importantly laura herself, see just how not okay you are.
‘lights, camera, bitch smile.’ you think once again.
even when you wanna die, you’re doing good. you know you’re good because you’re miserable and nobody even knows.
you swore that you would fake it ‘til you make it and you’re doing it.
it’s your new job and you are not going to let anyone try to come for it.
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twinkletfout · 2 days
Text
Rude boy — part.4
✧・゚: *✧・゚:*✧・゚: *✧・゚:*✧・゚: *✧・゚:*✧・゚: *✧・゚:*✧・゚: *✧・゚
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You saw his eyes swell, the red tint came into view as tears started pooling in his eyes. He looked away for a moment to play it off. You wanted to calm him, cheer him up. Be there for him. But you knew it was not your place. But before you could say anything he stood up and made himself out of the bar.
You guessed that the girl didn't see him, too busy with having so much fun with her new man. Despite the pain that slightly eased, you got up and went outside. It looked like he was calming himself down, you were glad that he was actually keeping his cool. Just like the way you are, you really can't hold back your tongue.
“Calm down, big guy. Not a big of a deal, hm? Lets go—”
You should really think before you talk, only if you thought about this before you said it anyway.
“What if it is?” it was a whisper, a mumble before his voice raised, he shouted.
“What if it is!?—” his voice cracked, holding back the tears for a minute before he continued
“She can do whatever the hell she wants? Fuck around with random guys, like its nothing?— I didn't date her for her to do that, and I, I just wanted to win her back I.. I loved her.”
you stood your ground as his voice slightly lowered, if he finally came to realise the fact that she doesn't want him anymore by taking out his anger on you. You didn't mind actually, just the way your heart aches for him right now, something also healed at the same time. And you felt guilty for feeling like this.
He was so wasted, too drunk to speak or talk that now he is spewing some random things as he kept on drinking. You told the bartender to not give him anymore, but when he realised. He gave you one pouty face like he was a goddamn toddler. And oh my god was that cute. You never saw this side of him before, it's like you unlocked something new about him and you loved this side a lot more than his usual self. You smiled to yourself before you said that it was enough and helped him stand up. Putting his hand over your shoulders as you supported his weight so he could walk easier.
Getting in the taxi was such a pain in the ass, as you finally entered the hotel and booked a room for one, the prince was literally dozing off and you had to carry him to his room. Because of this one guy, you lost your entire freaking day. You dropped him on the couch as soon as you entered the room. “God you are too heavy” you mumbled to yourself, but you knew he wasn't listening, it was like he was waiting to lay somewhere to finally sleep. But at least a good night's sleep will get everything off of his mind.
“You better call me the next morning, im leavin’ “ you said as you opened the door. You weren't expecting him to get on his feet or for his hand to wrap around your waist as he closed the door with his other with a sound. “Don't leave” his breath graced your ear as it sent a shiver down your spine. “Stay the night” he said as you turned around to face him. His whiskey eyes are getting you the one drunk now and you couldn't deny it as you looked up at him. “With me”
He leaned in, his lips almost touching yours as he waited for your consent. “We shouldn't—” you whispered. “One kiss won't hurt, hm?” His lips grew into a smirk as he said. “you are drunk, you nee—” you protested trying to push him back. “Please” he practically pleaded with those cerulean eyes, that was too hard for you to resist. And the hand that you used to push him back slightly lost strength and that was the sign he was looking for his lips to meet yours. Pulling your body towards him as your back hits the door that's now closed. One of his hands undid the few buttons of his own shirt before pushing your skirt upwards. He gave random kisses down your neck, your collarbone, your cheek before he started to grow more and more impatient.
“Luna…” he mumbled against your neck, that's what it all took for you to react.
Luna? Who is that?
You brought your hand to push him away as you put your skirt down.”Luna?..” you questioned, more likely to yourself. It didn't take you much time for the picture of his blondie lover to pop in your mind. You felt a strong pang in your chest as you figured things out. “Get some rest rude boy, i should get going now” you opened the door as he suprisingly retrieved you. “Dont call me that” he said before you leave. “Its Gojo.” he told you before turning his back as he flopped onto the couch.
Everything else was a blur, you got on a taxi and went to your own appartment. Maybe it was because your were holding yourself back from overflowing with tears.
A day passed with no contact of Gojo, but he did send the money more than that you said you wanted, you spent most of your time drawing and designing your new dress, it was your dream to make a dress of your own that will satisfy your thoughts about how good it needs to turn out. Even though you never spent much time with him or new him for a long time. Gojo always had to occupy in your mind and you hated him for that.
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Note
KEEP PRETENDING TO SLEEP! KEEP PRETENDING TO SLEEP!!!
HEHEHEHEHEHE I WAS WAITING TO COOK THIS
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Coffee insanely speaking! Thanks Dear, you gimme the perfect excuse to write a second part just in time although I expected the option of talking to him to come first. Not that I'm complaining lol
Post where this suggestion came from
↪︎ ☾ I love to see you ....................................... .......................................☆ I love to hear you↩︎
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TW: yandere behavior, delusions, murder of self-preservation, stalking, obssesion, somewhat willing reader, kinda denying of bad decisions
Of course, the best option is to stay still, not because you are enjoying this no no, of course not...
Despite his soft voice that sounds rather familiar, you can't really recall who or where. So the safest option is just giving in at the moment, you didn't know how he could react so the safer the better, isn't it?
A smile starts creeping on your face against your will, seems like you are a rather bad actor when it's required, huh? 
“Oh, I'm really glad, you seem like you're finally having a good dream… will it be too greedy if I want to be inside that little dream of yours? Well, if you find that greedy, you won't be able to handle me later”
Hearing a close mouthed giggle following the whisper makes your heart flutter softly, like this is some kind of really romantic scene in his mind. You were able to hear the faint sound of footsteps, he seems like he's doing a little room tour, making it a little hard to hear him.
“Oh Dear, you were researching that thing again?”
It seems like he found his way into your phone, what was he referring to?
“Why do you keep reading so much about romance? Are these words good enough to keep your focus?... Maybe I have to start practicing oral expression? It's been a while since I felt like that, last time was when you downloaded that stupid dating sim… This is truly irritating, the names they use, the way they ‘communicate’ to you; do no justice, I can express myself way better, my love, and how my eyes change when I see you walking by… just... please, I need only one chance, and I promise you won't have a room left for doubts”
Even though he made the effort to lower his voice in order to 'not wake you up', it's clear how his tone is changing with every word depending on the topic; First, a low hint of infatuation, then, what sounds closer to a plead and, finally,...was that...hopelessness?
Honestly, in a normal situation, you would be annoyed by someone searching through your phone but only an idiot would think this man would judge you even if you had pictures of dead people there, more like he's genuinely looking for more of you, despite the fact that it's really not the ‘proper’ way, you can't say it didn't work.
“My beloved Cherry, what can i do for you to talk to me? Those characters seem to steal your attention quickly… I would be lying if I sad I'm not a little hopeful because of them though, you seem to have quite the specific taste, Cherry, and I believe I fit perfectly on them... if only I could find the right moment to get into your routine, to be part of your life…”
Weird that he worries about getting to talk to you with an ideal scene but not worrying about stalking you, but maybe it's kind of understable? Since well, everyone likes to check on their crush on social media even if they take a while to actually talk, even if this guy took it a little too far, he sounds... harmless like his wish is just to win your affection…
wait a second…
Are you truly relaxed in this kind of situation? What is going on with you? Why? Why… well, can't say you didn't ask for this, even as a joke, you know this time is different because it's real, but… why does reality feel like a fantasy right now? Is it because of him?
“Huh, I come here as a routine by now, I still get the same queries, I’m dying to find the answers soon..”
Sensing that lightly sweet fragrance once more makes you know he’s approaching your ‘sleeping’ form once again, making it easy to hear him despite his constant whispering.
“Would you let me cuddle you? Would you let me kiss you? Would you mind if I were clingy? Would you mind if I get jealous? Would you mind if it seems like I already know more about you than I should? I want to hold you my dear, I can’t wait for the day I can just snuggle with you every time we want… I really can’t wait anymore, I need to be closer to you… I guess I have no option other than to talk to you out of the blue, I dislike to be so imprudent, but I promise I will make up for it once you accept me in your life, Love”
You feel a gentle hand slightly caress your cheek as a little peck is placed on your forehead, making you almost smile like a fool if it weren’t for the fact that pretending to sleep is your priority in this sweet moment, unexpected but called for moment.
“Sweet dreams Cherry, I have to prepare what I should say tomorrow, I will put all of my efforts to be my best self to make a good first impression, I hope I snatch enough of your interest to be on your mind even for a moment”
Oh, he is definitely gonna be stuck in your mind for a while, as you try your best to focus on the sounds, you catch his steps as he seems to walk away… but you keep up with your act just in case.
So, tomorrow, huh? Seems like once again you have important decisions in your hand, should you indulge in your fantasy and let him get near you? It also sounds fun to go to him first… But, maybe you should try to avoid him? It’s the safer choice, but do you really want that? He seems safe enough not to raise any of your flags, he seemed so caring for you…
sorry for any misspellings or weird sentence structure ❣
images from pinterest
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sportswriters · 3 days
Text
nope, no favorites around here - j. drury
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pairing: jack drury x female!reader | f, slight a | co-workers to lovers | wc: 716 | warnings: mentions of jack fighting on the ice
welcome post!
y/n’s part of the medical team of the carolina hurricanes. she has a great relationship with the players since it's her job to do check-ups before and after the games.
one fine day, she almost collapses while watching jack getting into a fight with the opponent. the crowd is loud, the guys on the bench are shocked and impressed at the same time. jack dropping the gloves mid game? that's rare. she hates it.
“i don't care if you won, i don't care if it hypes up the crowd, i don't care if it's normal in this sport. are you freaking dumb?”
she's distracted until she notices jack watching her with a smug smile on his face, not even slightly offended by her rant. y/n freezes.
“sorry, shouldn't have gone that far.”
“it's alright, it's a valid worry to have… as someone from the medical team.” jack absolutely knows there's more to it, but he's having fun. she's adorable.
“of course.” she nods. “medical concerns only.”
at home, she starts overthinking about her relationship with jack, wondering if people might be seeing too much. i'm kind and attentive to everyone, right? oh, no, what if they think jack's my favorite? that's awful!
the next day, she goes to work completely self-conscious of her own actions. she greets everyone trying not to be suspicious as she almost sprints to her office. she takes care of the paperwork from the previous day and take notes of what the boss left for her. when practice time arrives, the players come around to do a quick check-up before going to the ice. she has other doctors with her, but somewhere inside she knows jack is going to her cubicle.
he does. jack walks peacefully to his favorite doctor assistant — knowing that there are a few others available —, but what catches him out of guard is how professional she’s acting. well, of course she always does her job correctly, but never this cold, this far — far from him. y/n does every step of the check-up carefully, trusting she’s great at hiding her thoughts from her expressions. they seem to be eating her up inside, that’s why she looks so focused on not messing it up.
“you alright? you look restless,” jack asks, genuinely concerned.
“all great, just got a lot on my plate today,” she replies, eyes on the clipboard with his informations. “good practice, jack. don’t come back here anytime soon.”
y/n turns her back at him to hide her frown, regretting her words. she just needs him to leave so she can breathe properly.
“thought i was your favorite patient.” he tries to lighten the mood. he really doesn’t want it to end that fast, but regrets it a second after, because when their eyes meet, she’s terrified.
“what? nope, no favorites around here. i treat every player equally. have you heard something about it?”
“hey, don’t worry, i was kidding.” jack watches her posture relax. “i promise to do my best only to come here to see you, is that okay?”
y/n freezes. what the hell is going on, right now?
“look, i like talking to you, alright? i’m not a fan of pain and bandages as well, i just don’t mind coming here when i know i’ll be seeing your pretty face.” jack decides to keep talking, afraid you’ll make any assumptions. “and i don’t want you to overthink that i’m giving mixed signs. so, y/n, i’d really like to take you on a date if you allow me.”
“yes. wait.” she covers her mouth then her face in embarrassment. jack softens, his smile grows bigger.
he waits patiently for her. in fact, he’d love to cup her cheeks on his own hands, but that’s hopefully for another day.
“i mean, yeah, it would be nice to go out with you,” she answers, holding a smile as best as she can. “but now i think you should go. wouldn’t wanna mess the queue and get me fired, right?”
he chuckles. there she is, the y/n that got him infatuated.
“of course. see you later, then?”
“don’t even dare getting a scratch on purpose, you hear me?”
“even though you’re adorable when you’re worried?”
“get out of my face right now!”
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levmada · 3 days
Text
sequel to this post
[@dressycobra7 :3]
➥ c/w: gn!reader, some angst, oral (m!receiving), praise, subby Levi canonverse, established relationship, handjob, finger sucking?, turned into smut somehow
➥ wc: 1.8k
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The boy appeared to you and Levi later to apologize profusely like that was the reason he'd been born. You didn't have the heart to turn him away, and filed inside the small recovery room behind him, with its half-exposed brick walls. The curtains were shut, but enough light penetrated. Levi looked too tired to stop him, and it took an arduous amount of time to get through, but his answer was short, to the effect of, If you're not court-marshaled, don't do it again. A slightly upper angle and I would've bled out. Then where would we be?
You're still thinking about that as you stock the closet with some of his clothes. Mandatory bedrest for at least a week, and after that, take it slow. Levi practically shriveled up when someone said 'wheelchair', and he preferred if hospital germs didn't get into his quarters.
You'll have his squad up there every day doing routine cleaning, "trouble" which Levi didn't need to exert his mind over. He's busy being stubborn.
You turn around when you hear porcelain clink. He's leaned over the dresser next to the bed, trying to take the tea.
"Levi," you scold.
"We don't need Hange to tell me my arms are in fine working condition," he grumbles, leaning back as you come over.
He's right, though. No one would even notice any arm wound because the bandages and plaster wrapping around his lower leg are bordering-on gaudy. It's propped up on a fat pillow, also white, the same as his soft-looking boxers and collared shirt (of which many buttons hang loose). In the glowing late afternoon, he looks ethereal, not quite of-this-world. A dove which is angry and stubborn and trapped.
"Still," you say quietly.
"I'm fine... I don't need anything."
Mikasa and Sasha had picked flowers, which you set in a watered glass jar atop the dresser. White again.
You watch him sip, and go over when he's done, laid propped up against pillows. A wooden bench at the side; you sat for hours while he slept through the day (the whole incident happened this morning). You sit on it now.
"I know... But why not want?" you repeat, quietly looking down at your hands.
"Who are we to want anything?"
You sharply look. "Why are you talking like this?"
He just watches you, shrewdly, but with a weakness not indicative of him. It might be exhaustion talking...
"We could always die. Titans could get in—"
"I'd kill them."
"Not like this..."
You said the wrong thing—the wrongest thing. His lips press into a thin line, barely-concealed contempt and clean daggers for eyes. The way he looks, like he believes if he tensed up enough, then he'd turn invisible and leave this argument in the dust.
You gesture slightly. "Because I would protect you. Even if I wasn't one of your comrades, or a soldier."
His lip twists in a unique disgust, which is the most you can see, his head turned towards the wall. Over his stomach, his hand tightens into a fist. "If you weren't, you'd die. Then I'd be dead anyway."
You swallow. You want to yell, and cry.
"I don't want that, either way. You didn't deserve to... see me like that. That seems to be why I'm talking like this."
The anger has left him. Delicately, you stand and seat yourself on the edge of the bed by his waist. "I've seen you be lots of things. 'Weak' is okay too. And I'm okay with seeing you like that as many time as I must, which is once so far."
He scoffs softly through his nose.
You lean forward more, and walk your fingers through his hair. Blacker than night, soft. There's a little piece you tuck behind his ear. His eyes flutter, letting out a deep breath. You can almost see the goosebumps.
"I know we'll die, and I know we belong to something much bigger, but can't I love you anyway?"
His breathing hitches a little, and his eyes open. It's a wonder what he's thinking, if he's even thinking about it, his adam's apple bobbing.
"Do whatever you want. I'm fine, if it's possible I can be with you."
It's your heart's turn to flutter, and just as soon, lean over awkwardly, your head resting on his chest and your arms around him (at least as much as they can be). You hear his heartbeat. The slowing, smooth rhythm of his choppy breathing carrying your upper half. His arm slips around your waist, content to rest his lips in your hair. As the time passes, he's more and more comfortable to hold you to tame the fear his anger betrayed. By that time, your arm's fallen asleep; you rub his side.
As tempting as it is to go down to the mess crowded for dinner, and contend with questions, you stay, just appreciating existing next to him.
"Your back," he mutters. You've been bent over a while.
"Mm." He's officially being ignored.
His hand slips over yours on his side, stopping you. His face doesn't give anything away, maybe purposefully so, and so you smile.
Leaning up, a fond kiss to his cheek. "You're cute when you make that face. Is your leg feeling okay?"
He clicks his tongue mildly with his head turned out, just showing you his cheek and one blue-grey eye. "'m fine," he says quietly.
Curious eyes search. Maybe he's downplaying something, but not lying. With nothing you'd rather do, you kiss down his jaw now, to the tender, pale column of his neck. His chest lifts suddenly against yours.
His question sounds like an afterthought. "What're you doing?"
"'m loving you," you lift your lips to say. (A little embarrassing to say out loud.)
"Yeah." His lips are still in your hair, but are stirring.
You remember he has your hand when he starts bringing them down. All across your upper half, you feel him breathing, and it's a little deeper.
You switch sides, putting you at an awkward angle to kiss him. He starts to move over towards the wall, but you stop him with a firm hum fast enough, and sit up. No walking, Moblit had told him firmly. What you kind of wish he'd said now is no moving his legs. For now you ignore it pushing snugly against the front of his boxers, but there's a wisp of a giggle in your chest.
You shift the pillow carefully, and he follows, until there's enough room for you there beside him. The mattress is only half-decent, but it's warm from his body.
He looks annoyed that you're smirking, if only he could come off the slightest bit intimidating blushing so hard like this. Pink warmth creeps down his neck and disappears beneath his open, rumpled collar.
"Tch." He just captures the nape of your neck and pulls your lips against his—a little slowly that comes with tiredness, but that much more passionately.
While you play with his lips, giving him away to you, your palm roams between his thighs. You pause there. Right as he shivers with his lip trapped between your teeth, you pull away and leer over him. "Don't move, baby. Move and I'll stop."
His eyes narrow in a bratty display.
"I mean it." You smile. "Even a touch" You stroke through his clothes slow and firm, immediately bringing a dreaming-like quality to his eyes. He almost can't look at you, especially as he huffs and it throbs under you.
"Baby?" You lick your thumb.
"I won't move." He huffs again, harsher this time. "Ugh, I won't fucking move, but you can't just—"
Your free hand, your thumb, falls against his jaw and stops his soft lips from flapping, so now a whole new quality of lust emerges in his expression. You're freeing his cock from his shorts as he instantly takes you in, so soft and sweet and giving. The heat that immediately consumes your thumb is melting, almost too intense to handle.
"Good boy, letting me."
His eyes flutter as you find where wetness has drooled from the tip of his stiff cock, spreading it around in your palm. It's easy to hold him, how he was made for you, and even easier to touch him to attract his hips, and the beginning of whispered whines he always always tries to suppress.
He hasn't forgotten, though. At the moment you send him a warning look, he relaxes, and his eyes are closed. You didn't notice him take hold of your wrist, holding just to hold, and gripping the front of his shirt with the other hand, since you're not close enough.
"Good boy," you murmur again. A moan vibrates round your thumb, his cock straining in your fist. "That's my good boy..."
It seems all the squirming he doesn't do has to go towards suckling and nipping your thumb instead. You watch his brows furrowed in deep focus as you build up your firm strokes. It's getting just as wet. He can't last.
You smile to yourself as your pumps rise to his tip, firm but quick flicks of your wrist. His back bows against the bed, the moan in his throat breaking apart into a whine. That aside, he stays perfectly still, so you let it slide.
"Does it feel that good when I touch you? Going to come, sweetheart?"
"Mm," his voice comes firm and tightly-wound. His eyes open into slight slits, see you watching shamelessly, and shut again. "Mm!"
Just as he throbs and tenses up. You bend over gripping down low, abruptly tearing your hand away from his mouth to sink his cock inside yours; pinning his hips, rubbing his heavy balls in your grasp.
"F-Fuck, fuckfuck!" He takes sudden, almost too-tight hold of your hair, gasping, and tearing the sheet, and shuddering. He moans all through it, broken whispers of your name, almost hummed at the top of his throat at the quietest, and always eagerly throbbing in the hot suction of your mouth. You take everything in deep swallows.
When finally, his hips are threatening to squirm to shy away and his cock softening, you pull off. You wipe your mouth with the back of your hand as he melts into the sheets. He has half of his bright red face hiding under his arm, catching his breath.
"Fuck, I don't know how you expected me to stay still. Come here." He lowers his arm.
"For the mess." You smile sweetly.
"Come here."
"You're not doing anything." But you do, and let him give you a kiss. He looks extremely unhappy about that, but for once, it looks like he'll listen when you say.
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Levi masterlist | main masterlist
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larcenywrites · 12 hours
Text
Nightcrawler x F!Reader
just some quick smut w a furball 😊when I have tony stuff to finish
Warnings: 18+ | protected p in v (that's a new one for me) | AFAB reader but no pronouns used | an established relationship obviously | light bondage? does it count if it's his tail? | written with a reader who doesn’t know German in mind, sorry if you do 😔 | haven’t written smut in a while I’m rusty | a little foreplay, a little aftercare |
Word count: 1,750
"Shall we call it a night?" Your handsome devil practically purred against your cheek as he easily swept you off your feet. His tail constricted around your waist, prompting you for an answer. You didn't hesitate to wrap your arms around his neck with a giggle.
"Kurt, we're still in public," you playfully scolded him, but it didn't stop the tickling fur on your cheek and lips as he kissed you. Luckily, he always had a solution for everything. Taking that as the answer he was looking for, the two of you disappeared from the street, only leaving behind dissipating purple wisps. The same wisps that greeted you not a second later.
With that tail still wrapped tightly around your waist, you were now being held above your own bed. Lips eagerly met yours for a passionate kiss. With your hands too busy in his hair, you quickly worked your shoes off and carelessly let them drop to the floor with a thud. There was hardly enough attention span in your body to notice. Tongue dragging across your lips, a hand unzipping the back of your dress, another tightly holding you by your hip, the tail sneaking beneath your dress to coil around your upper thigh— but there was enough to notice that slinking prehensile sliding firmly over your clothed clit.
“Watch it,” you warn, but the arousal behind your gasp wasn’t very threatening. He still backed down, albeit with a cocked grin, and withdrew his rather unconventional advances. With that fun ruined, he sat you on the bed, making quick work of the last of your bra and panties before working on his. Clothes piled up on the floor.
“I thought you liked my tail,” he sighed playfully, turning away to grab a condom from the bedside table.
“I do,” you reply pointedly, not needing to explain further. Instead, you stretched out on the sheets, lying on your side as you watched him reach into your nightstand. Your line of sight followed the curve of his back, hips pushed forward as he took his sweet time tearing through the wrapper. Waiting, you couldn't help but admire the soft, untrimmed fur that curled around the base of his tail and down the backs of his thighs, and wrapped around to grace his lower belly.
"Bit of a fluff-butt today," you teased.
"And obviously, darling, you are into that," he quickly retorted, tail flicking in annoyance against the drawer, closing it. You smirked up at him, holding out your hand to wordlessly ask for his tail. It flicked your way without him even needing to glance at you. Your smile grew as you twisted it between your fingers, almost more distracted by the peach fuzz on his tail as you watched him stroke his cock a few times, pulling back his foreskin and revealing that blushing red tip, the only other discoloration on his body.
Your fingers drifted to the pointed end of his tail, twirling and playing with it while he finally slipped on a condom. But your fun only lasted a moment before he snatched it from your grasp. Thankfully, he didn't give you much time to be offended. Instead, he turned toward you, placing his hands on either side of you as you instinctively rolled onto your back for him. His knee wedged beneath your thigh while his other foot remained planted on the floor.
You could tell his eyes weren't focused on yours, made more evident by the soft drag of his palms over your bare legs. As pretty as he was to look at, you still sighed impatiently. "Kurt," you whined.
"Hm?" He hummed innocently, but the faint curl of his lip gave him away. He knew what he was doing as he continued to gently pinch and rub your thighs, looking anywhere except above your neck.
"Now you're just wasting time," you huffed.
"Time is never wasted admiring God's creations," Kurt corrected you, sudden sincerity in his expression as he raised his head. You rolled your eyes, but soon glanced back with a flattered smirk as he continued. "Especially on the beautiful ones," he added lowly, leaning down to plant wet kisses along your stomach, each one ending with the prick of his fangs. You squirmed in pleasure at the sensation, beginning to play with his soft hair as you let yourself relax against the sheets again. Lips and tongue making their way higher. A pleased hum leaves your throat as his warm tongue licks beneath the curve of your breasts.
The mattress dips as his other leg finally joins him on the bed, and fully settles between your legs. You moan at the firmness of his grip that pulls you closer, but it's quickly muffled by the pair of lips pressing just as firmly against yours. As your fingers thread through his thick hair, your other hand drifts down to affectionately cup his face. At the feeling of your thumb brushing through the soft fur of his cheek, his tail slowly snakes around your thigh. The sudden tickle of fuzz sends a shiver up your spine and causes a gasp to escape you. Taking advantage, Kurt slips his tongue over your bottom lip, eagerly sliding with your tongue.
His next kiss is rough, emphasized by the constricting grip of his tail around your leg and the deep rock of his hips against you, his body begging him to start. With a gentle bite, he pulled back just enough to adjust his hips and find your wet entrance with his cock. He took his time, slowly stretching you out around him and gently thrusting to open you up more for him the deeper he went. You moaned in relief when he filled out every sweet spot. Your only view was a faceful of blue when he melted into you with his own sigh of relief, keeping you buried beneath him as he pressed into you fully, purposely driving you wild.
The sudden pressure took your breath away, but you couldn’t help but cuddle back just as tightly. With his face buried in your neck, you wrapped your arms around his shoulders and your legs around his hips, and momentarily crossing your ankles. Right where he wanted you.
His thin tail unraveled itself from around your leg, soft fuzz once again tickling the sensitive skin of your inner thigh, before quickly latching itself around your feet. The prospect had you throbbing around him and drawing a quick breath to calm your racing heart. A toothy grin nuzzled your cheek at the reaction. His tail’s grip tightened with a too-sweet kiss, a string of soft pecks that lingered for a few seconds each time. But he must have decided that he’d given you both enough time.
Even with the easing of pressure from your lower regions, you still tensed at the feeling of his cock sliding out. His kiss retreated as he nearly pulled out, lips parted as he observed the pout of your lips and the daze in your heavy eyes when he rolled his hips forward. His motions were slow but deep, rhythmically snapping your hips together with every harsh kiss to your cervix. Your legs rocked with him.
You lay limp on your pillow, one hand buried in his hair while your other splayed fingers through his fur. Lost in pleasure, the only thing that managed to pull your attention was gentle fingers wrapped around your arm that gripped his crown. When you finally drifted your gaze up to him again, fangs grinning triumphantly, or maybe just adoringly. Both were probably accurate.
Coming back down for a kiss, he showed no signs of changing his pace. But with the way his soft bush tickling your clit with each thrust, giving you just a little more stimulation to tighten that feeling in your lower belly. You moaned softly into his mouth, digging your nails into his shoulder and eliciting a similar, choked sigh.
Faltering, the hand around your wrist moved to hold your hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze before driving into you quicker. He sat up a bit, changing his angle to one that finally drilled into that sweet spot that had you seeing stars in the glowing yellow eyes above you. Tightening your legs against his hips, your pussy tightened and throbbed, too, as he brought you closer to the edge in an instant.
With you squirming beneath him, Kurt purred out another pleased hum, sinking a fang into his bottom lip before turning to kiss your palm. Even the English language would sound like gibberish right now, but you definitely couldn’t understand the German praises being whispered into your skin. You still got the message, though, arching off the bed and wriggling at your makeshift restraint with a few whimperish moans. Your final breaking was the shiver down your spine brought on by the firm touch trailing down your arched spine, making you come hard around him. He moaned with you, struggling to keep going with the resistance met by your constricting walls, but he was determined to fuck you through it nonetheless. He kept his hand curled around yours.
With you taken care of, he sunk back into you, nipping at your shoulder as he gave a few more harsh thrusts to finish himself off. Burying himself and stiffening, he tightened his tail around you, wistfully keeping your legs trapped around him as he came with a low and throaty moan. There was no escaping the few weak rolls of his hips that edged you into overstimulation, but only seconds later he unraveled his tail from your legs, slowly and teasingly, before pulling out.
You were relieved when he unhooked your stiff limbs for you and rested them on the sheets, watching you curl up on your side to soothe yourself without him in your way now. Though his felt tail didn’t hurt, he still lovingly kissed a trail from your ankles to your knees. Even in your state, you still smiled, glancing down at him slyly. But you gave him a little privacy when it came to cleaning up his condom and mess, focusing on climbing under the sheets instead.
There was a dip in the mattress as he finally joined you. His tail wrapped around you before he did, looping around your thigh and curling over your waist. Kurt himself followed suit, stretching an arm over you and pampering your bare shoulders and neck with kisses before nestling against your back.
But the peace could only last for so long before his hand found its way between your legs again.
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luvring · 1 day
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hello!! hi. i hope you are not too busy. i have been enjoying your 'falling in love' hcs for the ts characters, and i was wondering if i could ask for the same concept with kuras? if possible? please take your time with it. ^_^ i thinjk he would be silly with it but would also want to biblically smite the reader with his mind (/affectionate) . or you two are psychoanalyzing each other from opposite sides of the room FAR away from each other. I Dont Know. packingf my suitcase and leaving
KURAS FALLING IN LOVE
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gn!reader | didn't realize how poor a read i have on his possible plot until writing this. my bad. good job red spring studio U and ur mysteries and kuras's identity in the overarching lore got me this time...
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this is going to be the most normal start of a relationship of the LIs. like he's just ('just') a doctor. you're about to strangers -> friends this through coffee and chatting
kuras doesn't...seek you out? not at first. that's not to say he isn't interested by you, but he has a job (and secrets) to handle. but he welcomes your visits as long as he has a break!
it starts with offering to grab or buy something, then staying and helping, learning about a random medicine he has on the counter, and then you're a semi-regular presence at the clinic, and you know which cabinets to check for the average sickness/bandaging. his practiced smile turns into a genuine one when you come through the door. he's asking how your trip was, catching you up on what's been happening lately
one moment i feel might happen is you finding yourself in his clinic, needing his help again,, hopefully your clothes are in tact this time. he jokes about how he'd rather not see you on the cot if you wanted to visit again.
little pranks...!! the senobium or him. roleplaying to throw guards off your trail y'know. getting to see that playful side of him :3
if it's him, he pranks you back, shooting you the same 'innocent' smile he does the guards. be careful about spilling that ink. you've been misplacing papers and pens all day too, haven't you? are you feeling alright?
another moment is. it's hard to say what, but you unknowingly say something tied to his situation. you casually drop your opinion on guilt and atonement—smth smth how guilt will rot and your atonement will never end if you don't let it smth smth the evil that others do with your kindness does not corrupt you smth smth—and it gets him.. Thinking. ! maybe you find those stories about a teacher and harbinger of chaos, and after bringing it up to kuras, he asks you for your opinion on them.
!! one moment i hope we get is kuras 'letting loose' or being silly. laughing really loud and apologizing as it lessens to a chuckle. trying to eat food because you don't know he doesn't eat, and it goes terribly wrong so he gives up and lets you laugh at him
LOL the psychoanalyzing. you say something and he has a weird reaction like Hm. sure, of course. and you're like ??? and he tells you it's nothing, just that that makes sense for you. and you're like Woah you wanna talk about My observations about You? and kuras looks at you like [ !! ] [ ?! ]
there's also small things that suddenly feel more intimate—him cleaning up a wound on your face and holding eye contact, his fingers lingering as they brush your cheek. you instinctively reaching for him when someone bumps into you, and him making sure you're alright.
kuras starts taking more initiative by inviting you to join him places and talking about himself. (cue joke about how information is power and him saying he'll make an exception for you.)
but it won't be all sunshine and rainbows considering he's an incredibly old angel and he has. shit going on.... who knows what shit honestly
you notice how he still doesn't share everything, which is fair enough—you're not spilling your entire life story either. but you still don't know basic things about this guy, you don't even know how he's kept his clothes clean all this time or how Old he is
that distance kuras keeps between you grows again because he doesn't want you to get in harm's way, and it's inevitable if you stick too close. he's an expert at dodging questions, answering just enough to keep people satisfied, but what does this mean for you? someone he's unexpectedly grown fond of, and who keeps calling him out for it?
you voice what you're both thinking. he has a frustrated expression when you point out you both like each other, and you want to help him for once, because ??!! he doesn't know what to do here.
something something, kuras's true form, him invalidating all the good he's done for the chaos and ruin he's brought, the world before, being the one to help him find forgiveness, the divine as neither good nor bad, kuras defining himself outside of a teacher and sinner Something Somethigngggaaghhh
Honestly. i've been messing with both ideas in my head and i haven't picked one i enjoy more so.
there's kuras, who's never been in love and is suddenly fumbling for once, trying really hard to 'do it right' and figuring out what it means to be in a relationship and in love (he's overthinking) (he was doing alright) (he asks ais/mhin for their opinions)
and then there's kuras who goes with what he was doing before, just with more affection/intimacy, because seriously he was already doing a great job at being a good partner :sob:
i think kuras's feelings are a slow burn themself. like, he takes the time to get to know you, to open up, etc, and he wouldn't define what he feels as 'being in love' for a while ?? he knows you're incredible important to him, and know him better than...probably anyone else. but he thinks "i love you" is a very significant thing to think and say out loud and he wants to make sure he knows for sure.
if you wait for him to say it first, i think he'd make it a really special moment! ^^ he thinks for a while about how to do it and, maybe uncharacteristically, gets nervous. his face lights up in its own way when you say it back (not a huge face-splitting grin, but his smile does grow and it's obvious he's relieved/happy)
it isn't often that the doctor is thrown off his game, especially not for longer than a few minutes, so if you ever casually, and Very Quickly*, say "love you" while you're leaving, it's a Sight to See. imagining ais coming to see him and going ...?? when kuras opens the wrong cabinet for the most basic medicine. he applauds your work the next time you see him
*very quickly because if you're in a situation where you're alone and he isn't needed, he's going to stop you?? like what?? can we have a conversation about this (not mad just stunned and values communication and also in love with you and)
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complicitsacrilege · 2 days
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More fun for the @deromanuscoven Spring Event 😈
Day 4: I want only your love or death.
Written by @herbeloved82 and me.
Find it on Ao3 here!
He could read it in Louis’ mind. He’d lost him again. Armand knew that Louis was never his to begin with, but over the years, they’d grown comfortable with one another. But now, there was a distance between them that Armand had felt before.
It didn’t help that Lestat was more than happy to be open with his lavish displays of affection for his all too indifferent partner, but the evening that neither Lestat nor Louis had so much as shown their faces before midnight, that was when Armand knew that he was alone once again.
Lestat had descended from his ivory tower to grace them with his presence. Even without the ability of reading his thoughts any longer, Armand didn’t have to pry to see the Prince’s smug expression, but it was the scent of something unnatural still running through his veins that told him what had happened. Louis slunk down to read in the library several minutes later, carrying that same unnatural scent.
Armand had smelled it a handful of times at court - more and more, now that their doctors in residence had time to experiment with perfecting the delicate balance. He knew that the open offer was there, yet, Armand never sought out Seth or Fareed to try it, but now, watching the way that Lestat draped himself across Louis’ lap, their cheeks still flushed, Armand had decided now was the time.
Only, there was no one with which he could. Not with Louis back to being Lestat’s pet or Daniel taking time alone in Rio, now that he seemed well enough to do so. That was when he overheard Chrysanthe’s voice. He glanced up, peering down the hall that led to the salon from which the sound of Marius’ laugh drifted over the sound of a crackling fire.
Armand’s eyes narrowed fractionally as he listened closer to the words. It was nothing of import - nothing that he and Marius hadn’t discussed countless times in the past. History. Politics. And yet, as Marius laughed again, Armand could hear the soft rustle of fabric as one of them must have gestured or moved closer.
Part of him wanted to look into the room, to walk in as though he hadn’t noticed that they were even there, but instead, he simply sat on the other side of the library, glaring at Lestat, who was now nipping at Louis’ jaw. It was a battle he would never win, for once Louis’ attention was elsewhere, not even the end of the world could draw him out of his shell.
And yet, there was the smallest crack in Louis’ facade as he tipped his head closer to Lestat’s for a kiss.
That was enough.
Armand stood quickly and stormed out of the room, leaving the library, but he stopped on his way to the salon when he saw Seth and Fareed approaching from the other side of the hall. Dressed alike, as always, it was Seth who carried an ornate looking wooden box and Fareed glancing toward the salon, from which the sound of Marius and Chrysanthe’s conversation continued.
Seth and Armand’s eyes met for only a moment, but it was Armand who looked away first, shying away from the weight of his dark gaze. Armand drifted to one side of the hall, yet they did not move to pass him, instead entering the salon before Armand could even see inside of it.
Fareed’s voice immediately joined Marius and Chrysanthe’s, and from his tone, he seemed pleased with what he saw. “Marius, Chrysanthe,” a brief pause, in which Armand could practically feel himself bristling. “It’s good to see you about, we were getting worried. We need our prime minister after all.”
“It is my duty to help our Prince.” Marius said with a detached voice that had little in common with the laugh that still echoed in Armand’s mind. It was like something switched off inside Marius, but the difference was clear. Marius had no interest in small talk with the doctor, yet the sound of his laugh with Chrysanthe told another story entirely.
Armand had always been his own worst enemy, and right now his mind was conjuring the worst possible scenario. He knew what was in the nice box Seth carried, what else could it be if not the triple cursed hormones? 
Armand found himself grinding his teeth. He could taste the metallic taste of his blood in his mouth as he imagined Marius accepting the box from Seth, a gentle and enigmatic smile on his too expressive face as he nodded towards Chrysanthe. 
He could see her delicate hand wrapped around Marius’ arms as they walked to his bedrooms, where they would - no. Absolutely no, he decided, he wasn’t going to stay around to see them leaving together. He was done for the night. 
Those were his thoughts when he walked away and left the main floor with its too many happy couples. 
-----
Read the rest here!
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bigoltrashpile · 2 days
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Stay With Us
Hi guys!! Once again the lovely @galacticroyal93 has commissioned me! This is a yandere fic with all the boys trying to convince reader to finally move in with them! I hope you enjoy!
Lucky growled as he scrolled through the pictures on his phone.  His face almost hurt from how hard he was scowling.  All he wanted was a good picture of you to add to his collection, but every one had…him in it.  Your boyfriend.  Another growl escaped Lucky as he thought the word.  Every picture you had posted to your social media for the last few months had that scum in it.
All the skeletons had, either separately or together, plotted to kill him, of course.  They couldn’t just let some…nobody have you.  However, Papyrus had pointed out that if they killed him now, it might only force you into depression and solitude, pushing you further away instead of closer.  So they were forced to watch from afar, all seething with jealousy when you talked about your boyfriend.
Lucky chuckled as he remembered how each of them reacted when you introduced them to your date.  They ranged from Papyrus trying hard to smile but looking like he had just eaten a lemon, to Scar outright producing bone attacks and using his claws to sharpen them.  After a little while, you stopped mentioning him around the skeletons, and he hadn’t seen any of them face to face since that first meeting.
Of course, many of them had seen him.  They had to keep tabs on their favorite human, of course, and try to find dirt about their least favorite human.
After what felt like the hundredth photo of you and your boyfriend on a date, Lucky was fed up.  He tossed his phone across the room and stood up.  If he wanted to see you, he could do it in person.  No need to look at photos when he could just see you for himself!  Those pictures could never capture your true beauty, anyway.
Before he left, he quickly grabbed the small blue vial given to him by this world’s Alphys.  He probably wouldn’t need to use it, but you could never be too prepared.
Lucky quickly shortcutted close to your home.  Just appearing on your doorstep would seem too clingy, this way he could pretend he was just in the area when you saw him.  He and the others had done this same song and dance many times before, but you hadn’t suspected anything yet.
He had only been walking for a minute or so, when someone walked almost straight into his chest.  “WOAH, WATCH OUT-OH!”  What luck!  It was you!!  “HELLO, DEAR!  WHAT A COINCIDENCE!” he said, turning on the charm.  “IT’S ALWAYS A DELIGHT TO SEE Y-”  Lucky froze.  You looked…strange.  Not in a bad way, but…  “Have You Been Crying?”
You paused, touching your red and puffy eyes.  “Huh?  Oh, no!  I mean, yeah, but no.  I was crying but like, it’s fine,” you half laughed.
Well that didn’t do anything to soothe his mind.  “SO YOU WERE CRYING?  WHY?  DID YOUR BOYFRIEND DO SOMETHING?”  He tried to fight the part of him that hoped your boyfriend had messed up his relationship with you.
“I mean…yeah?  But also it was me who did it,” you giggled again.  “Let’s walk, actually, and I can tell you about it!”
You kept going down the street, practically humming as you did.  A very strange thing for someone who was just crying but also not crying.  “...ARE YOU HIGH?” Lucky asked, following close behind.  
“Uh huh!  Oooooooh that’s probably why you thought I was crying!” you seemed to connect the dots in  your fuzzy brain.  “Yeah, it’s fine!  I just broke up with my boyfriend and wanted to take the edge off a bit,” you said casually.
It took every ounce of self control for Lucky to not cheer and pump his fist in the air.  You were single!  This was the greatest thing that had ever happened!!!  He let a small smile play across his face.  You were slightly in front of him, he could allow himself that luxury.  “I’M SO SORRY TO HEAR THAT!”  Hopefully your smoke addled brain wouldn’t hear the excitement in his voice.  
“It’s okay.  It was…probably not the best relationship,” you admitted.  “I mean, he wasn’t abusive or anything!  He just like, didn’t listen to me ever, you know?”
“HE DID ALWAYS SEEM LIKE THERE WASN’T A LOT UPSTAIRS,” Lucky admitted.
“Yeah, haha!  He’s a dumbass!” you joked, smacking Lucky playfully on the arm.  “Not like you guys!”
Lucky gritted his teeth.  Of course.  You weren’t only thinking of him, but the others as well.  That’s okay, he could work with this.  “I DON’T KNOW, BUTCH IS PRETTY STUPID AS WELL,” he forced a laugh.
“Yeah, but he means well.”  You gave him your dazzling smile.  Even slightly out of it, you were breathtaking.  “Hey, where are the other guys anyway?  Are you here by yourself?”
“WELL, YES.  I WAS IN THE NEIGHBORHOOD WHEN I RAN INTO YOU.”  An idea suddenly struck him.  “WHY, WOULD YOU LIKE TO GO BACK TO THE HOUSE WITH ME?”
“You bet your ass I do!  Your place is always soooooo fun!” you gushed.
“PERFECT.  COME ON THEN, DEAR.”  He held out his hand.  You eagerly took it, and Lucky strolled around a corner with you, shortcutting you back to the skeletons’ home.  This time, Lucky hoped, he could convince you to stay.
The two of you reappeared inside his home, and you were almost immediately noticed by the others.  “darlin’!” Hound gasped.  “what are ya doin’ here?”
“Lucky invited me!” you explained cheerfully.  You half stumbled to the couch and inserted yourself in between Hound and Butch, who were watching some old show together.  Lucky’s face contorted into a hateful glare.  Thankfully, you were too busy trying to figure out how your legs worked.  “I just broke up with my boyfriend…”
Butch’s eyes lit up, and Hound looked over at Lucky in surprise.  He raised an eyebrow, silently asking the obvious question.  Lucky just shook his head.  He didn’t have anything to do with it.  You did that yourself.  
“sorry to hear that, doll,” Butch said, voice not sounding sorry at all.  “that mean you’re back on the market?~”  As he spoke, he playfully trailed his hand up your inner thigh.  You smacked it away, laughing.
“Not right now, I want to watch this with you guys!”  You pointed at the show.  Lucky didn’t recognize the program, but it seemed to feature several old women sassing each other.
Butch’s face fell, but he relented.  All the better for him, Lucky thought.  If Butch got to touch you before Lucky did, he would have to cut off Butch’s hand.
“DO YOU WANT TO STAY FOR DINNER?” Lucky asked.  “I THINK NOIR IS IN CHARGE TODAY.”
Your stomach growled, and you nodded eagerly.  “Yes please!  I’m starving!”
“EXCELLENT!  I BELIEVE IT WILL BE READY SOON.”
You nodded, quickly arranging yourself so that your head was on Hound’s lap and your legs draped across Butch’s.  Both of them seemed thrilled by this unusually cuddly version of you.  Lucky tried to stop himself from seething in jealousy.  Sadly, there was no room for him to sit now, so he forced himself to not shove Butch out of the way and take his place.  It’s okay, once you were his, he would be in that spot.
Butch gave Lucky a shit eating grin as he started running his claws up and down your soft legs.  Not as suggestive as before, just relishing in the feel of your skin.  Once again, it took all of Lucky’s self control to not snap right there.
“I’M GOING TO BE UPSTAIRS UNTIL DINNER,” Lucky half growled.  He strode quickly out of the room.  As he rounded the corner to the stairs, he almost ran into someone for the second time today.
“woah, bro, where are you going in such a hurry?”  Oh thank the stars, it was Slim.  “you okay?  you seem ticked off.”
“YES, I…”  He looked behind him.  “Actually, Let’s Talk In Private.”
Slim nodded, and Lucky led him back to his room.  Slim sighed at the state of Lucky’s room.  It was messy as usual, but Lucky could find everything.  Just because nobody else understood his system doesn’t mean it’s not organized!  “i don’t know how you live like this.”
“HUSH, THAT’S NOT IMPORTANT!  WHAT IS IMPORTANT IS THAT…”  Lucky paused for dramatic effect.  “Our Human Is Newly Single.”
Slim’s eyes widened.  “holy shit.”
“YES.  THEY’RE STAYING FOR DINNER, BUT THE BEST PART IS THAT THEY ARE HIGH.  THIS MEANS THAT THEY ARE MUCH MORE SUSCEPTIBLE.”
“we can finally get ‘em to move in,” Slim gasped.
“YES.  DURING DINNER, WE NEED TO TRY OUR BEST TO GET THEM TO STAY.  IF THAT FAILS, I HAVE THIS.”  He pulled the blue vial out of his pocket.  “I GOT THIS FROM THIS WORLD’S ALPHYS.  IF THEY’RE NOT GOING FOR IT, I’LL SLIP THIS INTO THEIR FOOD, AND THEY’LL BE OUT LIKE A LIGHT.  THEN, WE CAN TRY AGAIN IN THE MORNING.  YOU CAN EVEN GET THEM HIGH AGAIN TO HELP CONVINCE THEM!”
“i dunno how i feel about that,” Slim muttered.  “i mean, i don’t want to use weed to make them love us.  that feels shitty.”
“THEY ALREADY LOVE US,” Lucky pointed out.  “THEY JUST NEED WEED TO HELP THEM REALIZE IT!”
“still feels wrong…”
“IT’S ONLY A LAST RESORT,” Lucky pointed out.  “IF ALL GOES WELL, WE DON’T NEED TO USE MY PLAN.”  He gave his brother a joking smile.  “PLUS, YOUR IDEAS HAD WAY MORE MURDER THAN MY PLANS.”
Slim rolled his eyes, unable to keep the smile off his face.  “yeah, yeah.  i’m not actually hurting them though, just their shitty boyfriend.  or, ex-boyfriend.”  His smile grew.  “this might actually work.”
“THANK YOU!”
“at least it’s better than sans’s plan.”
“THE BOX ON THE STICK?”
“nyeh heh heh, yeah!  this isn’t fuckin’ looney tunes,” Slim laughed.
The two of them left Lucky’s room, feeling hopeful about their chances with you.  After all, they could  take care of you much better than your ex-boyfriend could.
--------------------------------
Within an hour, all nine of you were around the dinner table.  Noir had cooked some curry, and it actually looked pretty good.  Some of the meat was a bit scorched, but overall, it was much better than when he had first come to this universe.  Lucky couldn’t keep his eyes off you as you practically inhaled your food.  You really were hungry.  He had heard of the munchies before, but it seemed you had it to the extreme.  Papyrus piled some more food onto your plate, and you smiled at him gratefully.
After a few minutes of eating, Lucky finally spoke up.  “SO Y/N,” he said as casually as he could muster.  “I’M SORRY ABOUT YOUR BREAKUP.”
Immediately, the table went silent.  They all turned to you, identical expressions of shock and excitement on their faces.  Lucky was grateful that you were both oblivious and high so you didn’t suspect anything.
“Yeah,” you mumbled between forkfuls of rice.  “I broke up with him.”  You were frowning, but quickly replaced it with a smile.  “He was kind of a jerk.”
“REALLY?” Papyrus asked gently.  “HE SEEMED SO….NICE.”
“He was…at first.  Then he started just…I dunno.”  You sighed.  “I’d ask him to do things, not even hard things, but he wouldn’t.  Sometimes it was like I wasn’t even there.”  You picked at your plate, appetite seemingly gone.  “He’d tell me that he loved me, but he never showed it.  Then when I got frustrated at him he’d act like I was the problem, you know?  I kept trying to understand, but it just got to be too much.”  You seemed to realize you had been talking for a while and shoved some more food into your mouth.  “So yeah, dropped his dead weight!”  You laughed.  “I deserve someone who treats me right!”
“you sure do, darlin’,” Hound smiled.  While you were facing Hound you didn’t notice Sans and Papyrus high fiving under the table.  “you deserve someone who treats ya like royalty.”
“Ha!  You guys are so nice you make me feel like royalty!” you laughed.
Now was his chance.  Lucky spoke up again.  “YES!  WE COULD TREAT YOU LIKE THIS EVERY DAY!” he grinned, pretending to be joking.
“Pfft, come on, I can’t come over to your place every day!” you laughed.  “You’d get sick of me!”
“we’d never get sick of ya, honey,” Slim interjected.  He gave a small smile.  “you could come over every day…or even just stay here.”
Finally, it seemed to click in the rest of the skeletons.  “YES!  YOU COULD STAY HERE,” Noir said, leaning forward.  “I COULD USE SOMEONE WHO APPRECIATES MY CULINARY MASTERPIECES!”
“it’d be great to always have ya around, starlight,” Sans smiled.  “we’re always so much happier when you’re here.”
You blushed.  “Oh come on, there’s no way-”
Scar reached across the table and put his hand over yours.  “I KNOW I DON’T ALWAYS SAY HOW I FEEL, BUT I WOULD BE OVERJOYED IF YOU LIVED WITH US,” he said bluntly.  “DON’T TRY TO ARGUE WITH ME.  YOU ARE A JOY TO HAVE HERE.”
That really seemed to get you, and you covered your face with your hands.  “I-I mean…it’s so sudden, I can’t just pick up and move.”
“WHY?” Lucky asked.
“...I dunno,” you admitted.  “I guess it would be nice to be around you guys…and have a change of scenery…and be around people who actually listen to me…”  It seemed like you were doing the job of convincing you better than the skeletons were.  “Fuck it, why not.”
“YOU MEAN IT?” Lucky asked.  “YOU’LL LIVE WITH US?”
“Sure!”
Immediately, all of the skeletons erupted into cheers.  You seemed shocked by the reception.  “Jeez, I didn’t know you all liked me so much!”
Lucky laughed silently to himself.  Sweet thing, you had no idea.  “OF COURSE WE DO!  YOU’RE OUR FRIEND, AFTER ALL,” he said.
Later that evening, you, Slim, and Lucky ended up on the couch together watching a movie.  You had agreed to stay the night as a sort of “trial run.”  You had fallen asleep much faster than either of them had expected, and your head lolled onto Lucky’s shoulder.  You were pressed in between the two skeletons, and your body heat was heavenly.
“i can’t believe they said yes,” Slim whispered.  He carded his phalanges through your hair.  “i really thought it’d take more convincing.”
“Me Too,” Lucky admitted.  “I’m Glad It Didn’t Come To That, Though.”
“yeah.”  Slim smiled.  “wish we’d have known.  could’ve gotten them high way earlier than this.”
“I Thought You Didn’t Want To Use Weed To Convince Them,” he said teasingly.
“yeah, well, ya can’t argue with the results,” Slim chuckled.  He gently tucked some hair behind your ear.  “i mean, we got ‘em here with us.”
“We Certainly Do.”  Lucky looked down at you.  You looked so peaceful, so relaxed.  He was right, no pictures could ever compare to the real you.  And now, he’d have unfiltered access, whenever he wanted.
He had dreamed of having you all to himself, but…he had to admit that you, him, and his brother made a pretty great family.  If he had to deal with the other skeletons for now, he could live with that.  You would soon realize that he and his brother were the only ones for you.
Until then, this was pretty damn perfect.
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