#love attraction spells that really work fast

[kissenturine]

boothill,, gunplay. thats the thought,, if ur comfortable writing that ofc ofc

𝐋𝐎𝐂𝐊𝐄𝐃 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐋𝐎𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐃 boothill x m!reader — 1.4k words, not proofread, minors do not interact

TO NOTE: gun play, slight chocking, boothill puts his gun in reader's mouth, boothill kind of bends reader over, boothill also makes reader jerk off, uh boothill kinda mean-ish, he pretends to shoot reader, aftercare is not written but it is given! lmk if i missed anyy :3

KAI SAYS: hello guys,, shorter than usual bc ive landed myself in the er due to multiple reasons haha (chronic hives, low blood pressure, fainting spells, dehydration, etc) and i miiight not be able to post until like next weekend maybe (?) so so soso sorry for the inconvenience aaargh, writing this in the hospital too... not dying tho everything super minor so!!

The first time you ever saw Boothill pull a gun was at a training centre. He said something about wanting to work on his aim, and so he decided to head there, late at night. No one else was there—just the two of you.

Boothill pulls out his gun, flicking a few bullets into the spinning revolver with practiced ease before he pulls the trigger. A loud ‘bang’ fills the room, followed by the sound of his metal bullets clinking to the floor after the shot.

“Well color me stoked.” Boothill grins, showing off his sharp teeth. “Seems I ain’t that bad after all!”

“Well, you were always good with guns, anyway.” You respond, returning Boothill’s grin with a smile of your own. He was indeed good with guns, and it was undoubtedly attractive.

Boothill’s hands spin the revolver, watching the metal clink. It was much too fast for you to see, so you didn’t know which one ended up landing. Boothill is quick to draw his gun again, smirking as he pointed it at you—straight into your chest.

“Boothill?” You question. “What are you—”

You are cut off by the loud sound of his gun shooting. Your eyes shut and you winced instinctively, your body tensing up for the bullet that was about to hit your skin.

…Yet it never happened. 

Cracking one eye open, you peer at Boothill cautiously, only to find him gripping his metal abs, a roaring laugh rolling from his lips. “Oh, darlin’ you know I’d never shoot ya!” He laughs again, though this time it was softer. “C’mon, love, I’d never hurt ya.” He murmurs sweetly as he makes his way closer to you, his gun still in hand.

He presses the muzzle playfully against your chest, trailing it up and down your abdomen. Boothill’s smirk only widened as he slipped his gun—along with the hand holding it—under your shirt. He presses the muzzle right against your nipple, watching you shiver at the cool metal.

“Boothill.” You whisper firmly. “What’re you doing?”

He says nothing, only continuing to drag his gun against your skin, sending shivers of delight across your body.

Eventually, his gun finds its way to the hem of your pants. Boothill gives you a wicked smile before he uses his free hand to yank down your pants and boxers, exposing your half-hard cock. “Well, ain’t that a pretty sight.” He cooes, letting the muzzle of his gun rest against your tip.

“Jerk it for me, pretty boy.” Boothill says. You blink up at him, confusion filling your face.

“Huh…?” You question.

“I said.” Boothill groans, pressing the muzzle of his gun harder into your tip. “Jerk it for me, or else I’m gonna be shootin’ this pretty lil’ dick o’ yours.” Boothill wouldn’t really. You knew that. He said it himself. And yet… the fear that he would is still there, forcing small tears to well in your pretty eyes as you looked up at him desperately.

“O-Okay.” You comply, wrapping your hand around your shaft as you slowly start to glide your closed fist up and down.

“Good boy.” Boothill praises, and his voice makes your dick twitch against his gun.

You move your hand, squeezing as you get to your tip and rolling your thumb to spread your precum. You throw your head back, moaning loudly as Boothill rocked the muzzle of his gun in time with your hand.

“Look at ya.” He groans, his free hand going to squeeze at your throat. “Gettin’ off to my gun pointed at ya.” Boothill smirks, rolling the revolver again until the familiar ‘click’ sound resounds around the room. “Pretty thing, d’ya even know what this could do to you? Or are you too dumbed down already?”

“Stop teasin’” You whine, your hand's pace slowing as you turn your gaze away from Boothill’s. “Not that dumb yet…”

“Yet.” He repeats, removing his gun from your dick. “Think I can change that real quick, no?” A sharp laugh escapes Boothill’s lips as he suddenly hoists you up and off the barstool you sat on. He spins your body with only a smidge of grace as he lands you roughly on your stomach against the table, your ass now facing Boothill.

“Aeons, you’re so pretty…” He murmurs, his hands roughly groping the fat of your ass. “Can’t believe yer all mine…”

A whine slips from your lips, high and pathetic as your eyes flutter closed. “Yeah…” You whisper. “All yours…” You feel Boothill drag the muzzle along your back—sliding it under your shirt, before he pulls his arm up, tearing through the thin fabric. You shiver at the newfound cold, goosebumps prickling your exposed skin.

You hear the zipper of his pants as he pulls it down, pulling out his cock and tapping it against your clothed ass before he’s yanking down your shorts. Boothill traces a metal finger around your puckered rim, eyeing you carefully. “Such a cute ‘lil hole…” He whispers out breathlessly. “Can’t wait to fuckin’ destroy it.”

The instant Boothill stops speaking, you feel the tip of his metal cock push past your hole, stretching you out more than you could ever imagine—despite doing this with him before. “Boothill.” You moan out, eyes fluttering as you crane your neck to look at him—only to have your face pushed right back into the table by the shove of his gun against the back of your head,

“Stay still f’me, pretty.” Boothill groans, easing his cock into you. The more he pushes in, the more painful the stretch is… And yet, the more painful it is, the more pleasure your body seems to derive from it. Boothill is only halfway in when you feel like you’ve been stuffed to your limit. A pathetic sound escapes you and you feel his gun press down harder.

Boothill removes his gun from you, using it to force your head to the side. He leans down, spitting a thick glob of spit all over the muzzle, smirking as it gets his gun all messy. “Open.” He taps it against your lips, making sure to smear his spit all over. Boothill’s smirk only widens when you follow, opening your mouth and letting his muzzle sit between your pretty lips. “Atta boy.” He whispers, thrusting with full force his cock into your awaiting hole.

“Boothill…!” You moan out, though it’s muffled by his gun pressing against the flat of your tongue. Your thighs tense at the sudden pleasure. A gurgly whine leaves your throat. “I can’t—”

“You can,” Boothill growls, pressing his gun deeper into your throat. His thumb goes to spin the revolver, making sure it lands on a slot with a bullet before continuing, “and you will. Ya know why, cutie? ‘Cause you're my good boy, and good boys take what they’re given.”

He sets a brutal pace after, thrusting into you relentlessly. It doesn’t matter how you plead, all Boothill does is press his gun further down your throat—until you’re sure your lips will bleed from the stretch. Eventually, his tip knocks against your prostate, sending you over the edge. Your dick squirts a load, all over the table and floor, yet Boothill doesn’t falter.

“Look at you, cummin’ like a slut.” He groans, and his pace seems to increase. He’s suddenly going harder, faster, everything that makes your head spin with the added overstimulation.

You cry against the gun, tears welling in the corner of your eyes. Boothill seems to enjoy the sight, leaning down to kiss softly against the back of your neck, his free hand wrapping around your waist and fisting your spent cock.

“That’s it…” He coos. “You think ya can give me one more?” His hand increases, matching the rhythm of his thrusts as he knocks into your prostate again and again and again. “C-C’mon, need t’do it together.” You nod your head eagerly, drool slipping from between the corner of your lips and his gun.

Boothill thrusts harshly, finally sending you over the edge for the second time, and you feel his metal dick twitch in time with you. Your eyes roll back, ecstasy overwhelming you as Boothill pumps a thick, sticky load into your ass, painting your walls white.

“You’re so good f’me…” He coos into your ear, sliding his gun slowly out of your mouth. With a familiar click, the resounding sound of a gunshot echoes throughout the room as he shoots his last bullet into the table—right by your head. “You’re always so good an’ pretty with my gun…”

𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓: @helloanime @kiekole (send ask without anon to be added)

© KISSENTURINE. do not translate, plagiarize, edit, or repost

[tsumtsumrry]

Film Bro

WC: 3.6k

warning(s): afab descriptions and she/her pronouns, language, sexual content (dry humping, somno (so dubcon just to be safe; please only read what you're comfortable with!!)

“And that’s why I fully believe that movies are better than books.” Harry finishes his lengthy tangent with a deep breath. He looks over at your bored face and a beat passes before you both burst into laughter at how he’s managed to turn such a frivolous topic into such a serious and longwinded rant. 

“You’re ridiculous and wrong.” You shoot back, offering him a close-lipped grin to soften the blow. 

You and Harry have always had differing opinions, but somehow, you’ve still managed to become really close friends. You’re always bickering and getting into little spats over stupid things, but you still love him. He makes you laugh and he makes you feel loved and warm, everything you’d want in a friend. And you know what they say, opposites do attract. 

His arm is slung around you, and both of you are sat down on his cozy couch as he tries to offer up a rebuttal to your rebuttal and all you do is roll your eyes and pretend to tune him out. 

“You’ve got to understand, love. With books, you read it, yeah? And if you’ve got no imagination, what does that do for you? With movies, you can see, feel, hear everything. It’s so much more immersive and touching when you can see everything happening right in front of you.” His arms leave your shoulder so he can use his hands to talk, animatedly explaining to you why he believes you’re so wrong. He looks at your face for a second, when your features start to soften he smirks and points at you excitedly, “See I’m converting you! And you know I’m right.” He leans back with a smug grin. 

You just shrug, “You can think whatever you want, film bro. But I know that books are the most immersive experience on earth. There is nothing like reading words on a page and feeling them hit you with every letter. The good part about books is that even if that author doesn’t completely spell it out for you, you can create a piece of that world yourself, something that’ll always be yours to have and to cherish. Nobody else’s.” 

He looks up to the ceiling in thought, twisting his lips like he’s considering it. You think you’ve got him until he suddenly perks up and opens his mouth to speak, “Ah, but like I said, the imagination thing. Can’t do any of that if I’ve got a shit imagination.” That smug smirk is back on his face and you roll your eyes. Guess he can win this round. You’re so incredibly tired from work anyway and you just shrug which causes him to let out a small sound of victory. 

“And I am right again…as always.” He flashes you his signature smirk and you grab a pillow from behind you and smack him hard with it. 

“Dickwad.” you murmur. 

“Hey!” he chokes out a laugh, grabbing the pillow from your hands and placing it behind him instead, “You’ve lost your privileges, sweet girl.” He chuckles softly because he knows you hate when he calls you that. 

He brings his hand out to motion to the TV in front of you and then swings his arm right back around your shoulder, “see. Look at this.” He instructs. You’ve almost forgotten a movie was playing with how into the debate you’ve gotten with him. The scene on the TV flashes in your eyes, a couple making out hungrily and desperately. 

The male actor is pawing at every piece of his co-star’s skin that he can find, and with every touch, her breath hitches and her leg hikes higher up on his waist. They kiss like this is the last time they’ll be able to. The soft moans and grunts coming from the scene make your pupils blow out and your chest tighten. Your thighs push together softly and you curse your body’s inability to stay in control. 

Harry raises his eyebrows and gives you a slow once over with an amused smirk on his lips, “a book ever make you feel like that? This fast?” You know he’s only teasing you, but you’re so immersed in the scene that you can’t even find it in you to care when you shake your head. 

“This is exactly what I mean. A book might describe a touch, but actually seeing it, seeing him touch her like that, seeing how she’s enjoying it, how she reacts to it, that’s just cinema. Can’t find that feeling anywhere else.”

His voice has lowered in volume and timbre to match the intimacy of the scene you’re both watching, and you’re suddenly hyper-aware of how close he’s gotten to you and how ridiculously loud those moans are. And if you weren’t a little turned on and a lot confused, you would laugh at it. 

You become even more hyper-aware of his fingers on your shoulder, caressing softly, the slightest touch, and you have no idea why it’s making you feel hot. His calloused fingers somehow feel light and gentle as a feather when he traces his index finger on your shoulder. And he just keeps going. As if it’s nothing. As if it’s not driving you crazy. 

You wonder if he knows what he’s doing. You’ve always known Harry to be touchy, but right now? It feels different, or maybe you’re feeling different. You don’t know, but it’s currently driving you a little crazy. That imagination you were so keen on before is really coming back to bite you in the ass when you start imagining the female lead to be you and the male lead to be…Harry.  

And what even brought this on? He’s always been attractive, yes, but these thoughts racing through your head, that’s more than an acknowledgment of attractiveness. 

He says your name softly, looking down at you curiously. You look up at him and latch on to the concerned look in his eyes, “you’re so quiet. What’s the matter? Mad I won again?” You can’t even fight the smile that graces your face and he mirrors you with a smile of his own. 

“Haha.” you deadpan. “You literally wish.” A soft chuckle leaves him followed by a sigh. He knows you like the back of his hand. And he knows that you’re both kind of turned on and very exhausted, so he expertly takes control of the situation and pats your shoulder softly, “you sleeping over tonight?” 

You nod softly, and he grunts as he tries to maneuver you up off of the couch, “come on. That’s it.” You really play into the damsel in distress bit (like you always do when he offers to take you to bed) and you let him lead your tired body to his bedroom. 

He sets you down on his bed and snorts when you let your body flop onto the mattress. “I’m gonna have a shower. I know you’re gonna be passed out by the time I get back, so goodnight. Dream of really nice sex scenes. Like the one that’s got you so turned on right now—” He can barely finish his sentence before another pillow is being hurled at him. 

“Okay! Okay, I’m sorry, Jesus. Gotta tie your hands together or something.” he speaks through a laugh. You just shoot him a bored look and he rolls his eyes and leans down to press a delicate kiss to your forehead. 

“Night, sweet girl.” 

You don’t even remember falling asleep, but you remember Harry getting into bed. The world-class cuddler’s arms were immediately wrapped around you after he got comfortable. 

You figure it’s been about two hours when you start to stir. That’s always been a thing with you, waking up in the middle of the night and falling right back asleep. Harry usually lulls you back to sleep with a gentle forehead kiss and a tighter cuddle. You sleep much better when you stay over at his place. All feels right in the world when you’re in Harry’s arms. Something about him makes anyone he touches immediately feel at home. You cuddle up closer to him innocently, and he mumbles out your name. 

You figure he must just be trying to coax you back to sleep, so you nod, barely awake, and drift back off into the comfortable safe haven that is sleeping next to a human angel. 

Harry, on the other hand, is also in heaven. Just a different kind. 

He’s fully immersed in a dream where you’re the object of all his desires, standing in front of him in a get-up that’s so sinful and alluring it’s got him begging for you to let him touch the masterpiece that is your body. 

You tease him and torture him until he can’t take it anymore, trailing your hands across his soft skin, kissing his neck and his jaw, leaving marks that he knows will give him flashbacks of how you ruined him when he sees them tomorrow. 

“God, please, sweet girl. Let me have you.” he’s begging. And Harry is definitely not one to beg, you’ve reduced him to a puddle of need, grasping at any part of you that he can get. 

“Wouldn’t be much of a punishment if I did though, right?” You pout at him with faux sympathy dripping from your voice and expression like venom. He groans deeply again when you palm his clothed bulge, rubbing the slightest bit to where he gets stimulation, but not what he needs. 

His breath hitches as you press harder for a moment before letting off, and then bringing your hand back to his bulge. He chokes out a soft groan, willing himself to endure your cruel punishment so he can have what he craves so badly.

“I’ve been s’good for you, baby. Don’t fuckin’ deserve this,” he whines out his words, desperate to the point that he has no shame in losing himself for you, in you. “I’ll do anything for you, sweet girl. Please.” His heart pounds, his eyes frantically searching yours for any sign of mercy. 

His hips start to thrust up in tandem with your soft rubbing, frankly unable to control himself with how absolutely ruined you’ve got him. His voice starts to shatter when he speaks and his eyes squeeze shut when you swing your legs around his hips and sit comfortably on his lap. 

He looks up at you with that fucked out, ruined expression and you pout at him again, tangling your fingers in his hair and tugging just the way that he likes. Your hips move slowly against him like you’re testing the waters, and he immediately copies your movements, taking anything he can get from you, whining deeply in the back of his throat. He knows he’s leaking in his boxers and it would take nothing for him to explode right now. 

You’re just so fucking sexy. Everything about you is like a tease to him. Your voice, your soft touch, that expression you make when you beat him in a debate, the expression you’re making right now as you take what’s rightfully yours. His cheeks flame a rosy pink as he looks up at you, his pupils blown and his cock throbbing with need.

His head rolls back as your hips start to meet faster, eyes heavy-lidded. He looks back up at you with a plead swimming in his irises, his hands balled into fists to avoid doing something he knows he shouldn’t. Your hips move faster and faster and faster….

He doesn’t even realize he’s doing it, his hips rutting needily, but slowly against your ass. His arms are still wrapped around you as he pulls you closer into him, his abs flexing as he uses your body to relieve the deep pressure in his gut. 

Small moans and whimpers leave his lips, occasionally your name. Both of you are still fast asleep as he works himself into an absolute frenzy, his face is buried in your neck, shaky puffs of breath hitting your skin. Images of him worshipping your body and the feeling of that delicious friction on his throbbing cock are all that his brain can register right now. 

The feeling of your soft cotton shorts and your supple ass consumes him as he trembles gently with every thrust, his cock sensitive from the slow teasing game his body is inflicting on him. What was once soft sighs, turn to slightly louder, more needy sounds. He mumbles and slurs out incoherent words through his bliss, probably some variation of what he’s saying to you in his dream.

It’s not even the movement that wakes you, it’s those sounds, those unabashed needy little noises that he’s making. Your eyes fly open and a small gasp rips through your throat and you register three things at once. 

Harry’s the one making those sounds. 

Harry’s arms are wrapped tightly around you as he rubs himself against your ass. 

And your thighs are sticky and warm with your arousal. 

Your first instinct is to freak out a little, considering you’ve just woken up to one of your closest friends getting themselves off on you. But then you turn your head around the slightest bit and you realize, he’s still asleep. 

The poor baby’s worked himself up somehow and doesn’t even realize what he’s doing, doesn’t realize how needy he is. His face wears a tortured expression, his eyebrows arched and pushed tightly together. The desperate soft sounds continue to leave his slightly parted lips and all you can think about in this moment is how much you want to kiss his lips, soft and bitten. 

Honestly, you’re at a loss of what to do in this situation. Do you wake him? Do you let him keep going until he ruins his pants? Do you just will yourself to go back to sleep and pretend this never happened? You know that last one’s definitely not going to work considering how ridiculously turned on you are. With every thrust against your ass, an onslaught of butterflies assault your stomach and you feel the pool in your underwear only getting wetter. 

You don’t want to stop him. 

“S..sweet girl.” He’s dreaming about you. Your entire body melts into a puddle when he mumbles out that petname that you pretend to hate.

Being the good friend you are, you figure you could at least help him along. 

Your arm manages to break free from his hold and you use it as leverage to get your body to turn around to face him, once he loses his friction, a deep sound of disappointed leaves him and his brows fall, a pout gracing his face. His hips move in frustration as he tries to gain back the friction and you can’t help but feel bad for him. 

“Harry.” you take ahold of his shoulder and shake him gently, “Harry.” 

His body twitches a little in response to you rousing him and you smile gently, “Harry.” 

His eyes flutter open and when he’s met with your eyes staring into his, for a moment he only looks disoriented, a little confused and grumpy that he’s being woken up. But then his eyes widen and you swear if it wasn’t so dark in his room you’d see every bit of pigment drain from his face. 

“Shit. Oh my god.” It doesn’t take him long to figure out why you’ve woken him up. He’s so hard, sensitive, and it feels like he could come at any moment. And you’re looking at him like that. 

“I’m so sorry. Holy shit I’m really really—I didn’t know what I was—” you don’t let him slur out anything else before you pull his lips into yours, kissing him with the same desperation that you can feel radiating off of his body. 

You pull away from his lips with a soft click and his expression when you’re eye to eye again is one you know you’re going to commit to memory. He’s looking at you like you hung the moon and stars. You can still see that subtle frustration in his eyes though, you know he’s fighting to keep his hips under control. You hike your leg up so it rests over his hip and inhale deeply once your crotches are pressed together, “keep going. It’s okay.” You reassure him. 

He stares at you for a moment as if he’s unsure, and you nod, scooting closer to him and encouraging him to put his hands back on you, “it’s okay, baby.” 

Your soothing, yet sensual whisper of that name is what breaks him. His hips roll one slow thrust against your core and his jaw falls open in a deep groan. Your breath hitches at the feeling, you didn’t realize how sensitive you were until you felt him move against you, and fuck, you’re really sensitive. 

His breathing gets heavier as he continues to fuck himself against your cunt, maintaining eye contact with you as he loses himself in the white hot pleasure that’s tormenting every part of his body. It feels so much deeper than normal, it feels like you’re everywhere all at once, and he’s not even inside you. You guys are merely dry humping on his bed but it somehow feels like the most intense thing that he’s ever experienced. 

He says your name and you hum to let him know you’re listening, “you feel so fucking good. How do you feel this good?” he sounds out of his mind with pleasure. You can’t even find the words to respond to him so you just nod quickly and lean into to capture his lips with yours again. He moans into the kiss and his hands shoot to your hips to urge you faster against him and pull you closer.  

It feels like he can’t get enough of you, like he can’t get close enough. His hands reach for every sliver of skin he can find, his lips attack your jaw and neck, leaving marks on you just like you did to him in his dream. Every kiss he leaves is frantic, like he’s afraid you’ll disappear. Continuous praises leave his lips, like he has to show you how grateful he is. 

“You’re so beautiful.”

“Feel so soft.”

“So much fucking better than my dreams.”

“Fucking perfect.” 

“Can’t believe you’re this wet from me using you like that. Filthy fucking thing.” he’s losing his restraint and you can absolutely tell, the way he’s talking to you, looking at you, thrusting against you, he’s letting go in the best way. He’s just doing what he knows will feel best for the both of you. 

“Such a good girl. Taking me like this, fuck.” 

You whimper softly as the tip of his cock bumps against your sensitive mound through the confines of your clothes. Originally you just wanted to get him off, but you find yourself chasing that release to, and it’s building faster than you thought. He feels amazing. With every deep grind against your cunt he drives you further and further into a pleasure induced oblivion. You should be embarrassed at the sounds leaving you and how you’re already so close, but it just feels too damn good to care. 

“Harry…fuck.” you grip tightly onto his pajama shirt, grasping at whatever you can to ground yourself with the way you feel like you’re floating off the ground right now. 

“Love the way you say my fucking name.” the words fall out of his mouth in a desperate whine, his hips move faster and needier and he buries his face in your neck to cope with all the sensations. He lifts his head up the slightest bit so his mouth is positioned right next to your ear and a full body shiver wracks through your body when he speaks, “need you to come for me, sweet girl. Can you do that for me? Know you’re close.” 

“So close, baby please.” you babble out, your hips moving together in a frantic rhythm to reach your climax. He encourages you with desperate words that sound more like whimpers and uses his firm grip on your hips to drive you harder against him. 

It builds and builds until everything in you draws up taut like a bow, you shudder through the release and Harry can’t keep his eyes off of your expression as he gently pushes you through it. 

“Gonna make me make a mess in my fuckin’ pants, fuck.” You fight through the painful pleasure of overstimulation as he chases his release, focusing in on the way he almost looks pained as he works himself against you so desperately.

A rushed whisper of, “m’coming” leaves him before his thrusts grow sloppier and rougher. His mouth falls open as needy, filthy noises leave his lips. He practically sings your praises as he makes a mess on the both of you, leaving open mouthed kisses on your neck to ground himself as he works through a powerful release. 

“Sweet girl.” he whispers after a moment of silence, bringing his face out of your neck to look at you. His hands come up to caress your cheek, blowing out a breath from his mouth like he’s in awe of you. 

“Hi.” you whisper back, “that was….” 

“Yeah.” he finishes. A small chuckle leaving his lips at how awkward you two are making this. 

You’re unsure what to say for a moment and you look away, but his fingers grab your chin, “don’t do that. I like looking at you.” 

You look away again in pure shyness and he laughs and forces your eye contact again, “don’t!” he speaks through his laugh. 

He leans down to kiss you and a pleased hum leaves both of your lips, he barely disconnects from you before he starts to speak, “you believe me now, right?” 

“What do you mean?” you whisper. 

“Movies are better than books.”

[duckchu]

Finally, Settreigh (or however you spell his full name lmao)

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

Mostly just cuddling after sex, no thoughts, just head between titties (no matter which one of you is the one with the head)

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

For him, definitely arms, he worked hard for them and loves the fact that he can pick you up with such ease no matter your size. On you, he loves your legs, he thinks they look really attractive

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

Inside only

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

He loves you so much that he can't live a day without your presence, so he sometimes buys the perfumes you use and sprays his room with them before masturbating

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

The only thing he has close to experience is his mom giving him the whole flowers and bees talk

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Mating press

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

Out of Heartsteel, he's the one who you have the highest chance of being goofy during sex with, but he does sometimes want to get serious

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

He's hairy down there and it's in the same shade of red as his hair

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

He's pretty romantic during the act, pulling you as close to himself as he can and making sure you know how much he loves you

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

Not frequently, doesn't really need to when he has you, but even if he doesn't, he masturbates rarely

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Breeding 100%

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

Bed or against the wall of his bedroom

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

Just seeing you in shorter clothes makes him go crazy

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Slapping or spanking you. Even though he can control his strength, he knows how much stronger he is compared to you and doesn't want to risk you getting hurt

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

Definitely prefers receiving, sitting at his desk and seeing you under him taking his cock so well

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

He's fast and goes hard, he's not here to play

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Not really a fan, only if you have no other option

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

Prefers to stay in the bedroom rather than have you two be interrupted

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

It's rather a question of how long can you last, man has stamina for days

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

Not really, prefers pleasing you himself

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Not really, he likes seeing you enjoy yourself rather than beg him for release with teary eyes

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

Can keep it down, but he's pretty loud

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

When I say he has a breeding kink, HE DOES straight up going for so long that he's shooting blanks

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

Long and thick, 15 cms

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

About 3-4 times per month

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Pretty quickly, after all taking care of such a beauty can be tiring~

[gimmemore75]

DNI: If you don't like NSFW, Orcs, mosters in general, ritual sex, blood, gore. You have been warned.

You are a short, cubby but curvy human cleric who travels with Morak. A 9 foot tall behemoth of an orc. He's a bit hairy with a belly but incredibly fit. His tusks, beard, and long ornate hair gives him a certain charm. Many people think orcs are dumb, but he often uses that to his advantage. He's so smart, that you just love to hear his deep rumbling voice go into deep explainations about random things. His eyes light up whenever he explains things and that makes your heart feel full. For someone as strong as him, why would he need you to travel with him, you had thought. Turns out being an orc attracts a whole lot of unwanted attraction. After defeating a hoard of monsters, I hear a loud thud behind me, finding him collapsed.

"Morak! Gods above, you're bleeding so much." You start to heal him but all it really does it only stops some of his bleeding. You grab herbs and a healing potion and see if that helps, but it does very little. Your eyes start to water, as you watch him take shallow breaths, his kind, intelligent green eyes look into your own and cups your face with a bloody hand.

"Hey tiny, don't cry. I'd hate to see the woman I love cry before I go." His rough voice grumbles. You can't take it anymore. There has to be something you can do. You look through your pack and find an old tattered book. It reeks of old magic, but it's probably what you need. You look through it and find what you're looking for, but you have to act fast. Gathering everything and setting up you hear his voice.

"Tiny...you don't have ta keep trying."

You look back at him, openly crying now. "No I do. I have to. I love you too much to let you die. You trust me right?"

Morak grunts in response but his eyes tells you everything you need to know. You kiss him softly, his blood mingling with your tears. "I'll heal you. It just might hurt at first." You light the rest of the candles, the symbol drawn in his blood and you begin to say the words as you undo his clothing. Careful as you pull down his pants not to hurt him much.

Morak looks down at you surprised, but exhausted from his injuries. You lock eyes with him as you chant and begin to stroke him, preparing him, until he's hard. His eyes are hazy from bloodloss, pain, and lust, but you never break contact. You disrobe showing him your body as you continue to say the words and make him watch as you prepare yourself to take him, pumping as many fingers as you can inside you until you're all good at wet. Taking some of his blood you use it as a lubricant, just as the spell dictates. You take a knife and cut your hand, stroking his hard member with it, lubricating him with your own blood. Then slowly, you lower yourself onto him, he large, stretching you, and you still have to chant. You do your best to take him all the as fast as you can, but it still takes time. You continue to watch him, his eyes look comcerned, but you try to reassure him as you sink the last bit of him into you.

You move, in time with the chant working up a rhythm as the words are now coming out of your mouth on their own. You can't stop now. You watch as you begin to see his lips move, his voice mingling with yours in the chant. The more you move and fuck him the stronger his voice sounds. Your eyes locked together, you can see him becoming more aware, the light that was dimming becoming brighter and it spurs you on. You're moaning and chanting as your hear his groans of pleasure mixed with the chant, his breathing sounding better. You can see some of his wounds healing right before your eyes when he suddenly grabs your hips and starts thrusting into you, the both of you chanting, the desire and lust in your voices mixed with the complete adoration and love when you looked into each others eyes fueled your coupling. He flips you onto your back, laying you in his blood as he begins to plow into you. It's intense, and wonderful, and too much and not enough. You can barely speak but the chant still goes. You have no control over it anymore, and neither does Morak. He speeds up, thrusting erratically chasing his release, the chant moving at his pace. You clench around him, practically screaming the chant as you both cum together. Silence. There's only the sound of your breathing as he leans into you before he kisses you deeply. He holds you to sit up with him, not wanting to pull out yet, plugging you up with his seed.

"Tiny....what did you do?" His voice rough and ragged. You take a moment before replying. "I tied your life to mine. It's ancient magic, but it was all I could think of. "

"Tiny, that kind of magic is dangerous, but without it, I'd be dead. By Orc code, I have to protect you until your end of days, but seeing as how our lives are now bound together, I'd do so regardless."

You smile up at him. "We should probably clean off and get out of here."

Morak holds you in place. "I don't think so Tiny. I kind of like seeing you covered in my blood. I think I'd like to enjoy you without the fear of dying." He dips dowm to kiss you before proceeding.

[white-sinner]

seven brothers and their boyfriends

first born Lucifer morning star and neko male reader

Smut

❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️let's say that your relationship was very unexpected even Diavolo was surprised by it let's say…. you are totally opposites! but do opposites attract?

Lucifer is a very serious man and you are a very sweet neko boy who like make jokes but also very intelligent so I think the relationship between you two could work

your story starts with you just arrived as an exchange student from fairytale kingdom or rather NRC sorry i just started Twisted wonderland and i am loving it Lucifer at that time was neutral with you being that he was assigned as your protector but over time that feeling evolved and you eventually got together

it wasn't very difficult for you to get along with him being that however your Housewarden didn't have a very different character since you were in Heartslabyul for Lucifer he loved you with all his being even if he didn't show it in front of others because of his sin of pride but behind closed doors well he cuddles you he loves it of course there are times when you get on each other's nerves for example when he stays up at night because of paperwork so you sneak in thanks to your feline skills and throw him a spell then drag him to his room and you go complete his paperwork on the day

everyone at the RAD knew it was better not to joke about you already you with your spells were strong but nobody wanted to clash with Lucifer in other words it was literally touch my boyfriend and I will make you spit out your organs

and when you two fight well and that's when the other brothers run away lucifer always wants to be right and will never admit he was wrong but you on the other side are just as good you are always ready to fight but when the fights go too far and Lucifer makes you cry send your condolences just like cats you are touchy so Lucifer will have to work hard to make it up to you

the fact that you are always sleepy and love to play pranks are good splits to punish you~ now it can go two ways

SUB READER

this man is a fucking sadist. he will push you onto his bed tying you hands and feet so you cannot move and he will start pulling on your tail and ears just to see you cry this feeds his ego to see you cry under him totally vulnerable if he then has to punish you for some prank of yours well get ready to be spanked when he feels satisfied he will start fucking you so hard that you will feel it inside you for at least four days. among other things he loves giving you hickeys and a way to brand yourself and not bring the others closer and if you try to cover them? Lucifer and the fuck won't even allow you to turn around with a collar on with his name on it so this guy really enjoys punishing his boyfriend

TOP READER

one evening he made the fatal mistake of not wanting to come and cuddle you literally threw her on the desk undressed quickly with his tie tied his hands then you fucked him so hard and fast he couldn't speak anymore i literally reduced his brain to a pulp looks like you'll have to cuddle him afterwards

it seems to me that you two are a very good match have fun~

❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

[magic-hcs]

Can I request for Papyrus, Sky and The Horrortale Brothers with Kindness Soul S/O who is a Baker and has a bakery (Also they have healing powers)

Thank you so much for the ask! And for being so patient with me. Bear’s ended up being very long while the others quite short. I also didn’t have much idea what to do with the healing powers.

Bear: Horrortale Sans

Sky: Underswap Sans

Bean: Horrortale Papyrus

Time to cast some magic and see what we’ll get!✨

✨✨

Papyrus: Papyrus loves to bake with you! He’s good at baking, it just looks like a mess at the end result yet somehow still tasting so very delicious. You two probably met at the baking club Papyrus goes to. Maybe you came over at the club to help out with a specific cake the club was going to prepare that day.

Papyrus saw you and was immediately attracted to you. Looking so beautifully and handsomely in that apron of yours and with that focused yet kind look on your face. How could he not fall so easily for you?

✨✨

Sky: He gets very happy whenever you come by with some new treats you made. You’re his go to place for coffee and a treat before he’s off to work. Loves helping you in the kitchen. Somehow, the both of you always end up with a bit of flour covering you both.

You gotta keep an eye on him when he handles stuff that needs a sense of smell while baking since he has none. (It’s the reason why his food sometimes ends up inedible.)

Sky’s an amazing taste tester though.

✨✨

Bear: Bear had just been walking back home from the animal shelter when the sweet scent registered within him. He came to a complete halt, the single eyelight in his socket enlarging slightly. Completely forgetting what Bear priory was heading to, to instead follow this amazingly smelling trail. He didn’t have to walk that far, the source of the smell - which ended up being a newly opened bakery - was quite close by.

It was a cozy looking little thing. With brown chairs that look to be made of braided and weaved materials, and wooden tables with carved decorations standing just outside the bakery. There were two big window panes se with small different colored stained glass decorating just above the window sills.

A big chalkboard stood just outside, and written in big letters were the words 'GRAND OPENING, SWEETENDLILY'S OWN WHIPPED CREAM CHERRY MUFFINS AND BANANA SWISS ROLLS'

Bear walked in accompanied by a little 'ding' sound of the bell hanging just above the door, followed by a voice calling out a "I'm coming."

The smell came from behind the door where the voice had called out to him. Bear tugged slightly at his beany making sure it was still in the right place. Hiding the big crack in his skull. The smell became stronger and there you were. Mittens covering your hands which held a big tray of sweet scented bread. You looked up at him and your eyes widened, never having seen a living skeleton before. But you seemed to get yourself under control fast and grinned at him. “Welcome to Sweetendlily! Wheat can I do for you today?”

That pun had almost flown over his head if you hadn’t been grinning at him expectedly.

And that’s how it all started. And when I say all started I mean really all started. You were assertive, straightforward and kind. You left Bear reeling with your delicious treats, dazzling smiles and laughs, baking based puns and sugary flirts. Poor boy just kept coming back like he was being called by a very welcoming siren’s song. It was to no one’s surprise that you were the first to make a move by giving Bear a muffin with frosting that spelled ‘muffin ask u on a date?’ With a little heart decorating the side. You two have been together ever since.

✨✨

Bean: Bean loves it whenever you come to visit, knowing you’re bringing all kinds of self made goodies with you to share with the brothers. He definitely asks you to give him the recipes of some of the pastries you often bake for him.

He likes to bake with you, especially the decorating.

Bean’s soul warms whenever you make something specially for him. It makes him feel so appreciated.

✨✨

✨✨

Thank you for participating in this spell, I hope it was to your satisfaction.

[inkmemes]

never stop blowing up  (  2024-  )  e02 : and that's whirred up sentence  starters ↪  taken  from  dimension 20's 22nd season.  alter  as  you  see  fit  ♡

“i'm just a lanky boy.”

“hello! nobody's home.”

“don't mess with brooklyn.”

“and what if i swallow it?”

“i wish you wouldn't.”

“i'm not hearing no!”

“it's beautiful.”

“you gettin' a little fucked up already?”

“i mean, i feel pretty fucked up.”

“that's for… that's for me? you want me to put that in my body?”

“okay, why don't you try some first?”

“you all right? you're looking a little green around the gills.”

“we can't afford this.”

“oh, um… i'm just being funny today.”

“i didn't get it. it didn't seem funny to me.”

“when you do drugs, sometimes you have ego death and it doesn't feel like you're you anymore.”

“this is paid for? this is, we got this? this is fine?”

“what are you asking?”

“i actually thought we were bonding.”

“wait, so you're not mad at me?”

“nothing you could do would ever make me mad.”

“i'd date him.”

“god, cutie alert.”

“this guy brought dogs to a nightclub!”

“he's really old. he has like, no teeth.”

“just taking notes on a fucking conspiracy.”

“see, when someone doesn't answer right away, you feel the need to keep going.”

“oh, okay, so you're making accusations.”

“i'm like, a little nervous that we left things in a weird place.”

“i don't even know this guy.”

“snort some and then sell the rest for money.”

“i don't want me to be happy!”

“i guess let's have some more of these drinks.”

“i didn't write down where i was supposed to go.”

“what's going on?”

“oh my god, he's dead.”

“you're on top of a building.”

“wait, a man just jumped off of a building?”

“i think [name] is attracted to this man.”

“is this a gun?”

“wait! come with me!”

“did i love him?”

“it was all a blur. i was getting thrown around like you can't believe.”

“yeah, he really gave it to, huh?”

“i wanna go out on the town.”

“we don't have the same room?”

“he left me up here on the street?”

“that was cool, man. i don't know what you want me to say.”

“i've been shot!”

“i've never been in a hotel this nice.”

“it's so hot. it's so hot.”

“there's dead guys all over the ground.”

“the floor is sleek with blood.”

“don't know how to spell that.”

“what the fuck?”

“sneak is like their primary fucking thing.”

“it's crazy that they just straight-up advertise that.”

“dude, this movie fucking rules!”

“i'm gonna need that from you.”

“tell me what i was supposed to do.”

“i think he's just starting to sweat.”

“you are wearing a tuxedo, baby.”

“just getting my sea legs, man.”

“could you send me a ping?”

“come on, man. we got bigger fish to fry. you gonna get hung up on this right now?”

“i've watched this.”

“i can't wait to see you.”

“i'm not the only one feeling pressure.”

“i'm probably not even gonna show up to work.”

“you told me what to do, i'm gonna do it, no argument.”

“i hate doing what people tell me to do.”

“he didn't think you were a shithead. there was trust there.”

“you were given an impossible thing to do.”

“i'm going so fast.”

“i'm still on my learner's permit!”

“i don't know who you're talking about!”

“does it look like the car is like, toast?”

“get outta there. those guys are some bad dudes.”

“i fucking love it.”

“i didn't know!”

“i fucking think it's a great fucking choice.”

“none of these are good enough.”

“[name], i thought you were dead.”

“that's why he hates me and that's why he stabbed me.”

“that's why he hates me and in turn why i hate him.”

“that was a weird interaction you just had.”

“oh, don't worry. i'm not gonna do anything with it. i'm just kinda holding it 'cause it feels necessary.”

“they can take care of themselves.”

“i'm getting it under control.”

“oh my god. this must be my fault. what did i do?”

“i hate new technology.”

“how the hell did you get that number? never call me on that line.”

“they're dancing together.”

“why the fuck are you calling me at the bureau?”

“can i get a second one?”

“oh fuck, they're all dead. they're all fucking dead.”

“goddamn it! [name], did you fuck us?”

“no, don't you fucking hang up on me!”

“we are gonna find a way to make this right.”

“did you get nabbed by the feds? what happened?”

“what do they want you to do?”

“but you know who you are.”

“it made so much sense in my brain.”

“what are you talking about?”

“yes! oh my god, fuck!”

“you had it in you all along, kid.”

“it's crazy. it was crazy down there.”

“can't say i'm surprised.”

“you must not have been invited.”

“that's a really interesting question i'm not willing to open up.”

“don't tell me what to do.”

“and it's weird 'cause it's not… it's like an emotional feeling. it's not a logical thing, right?”

“you're the guy from the movie!”

“i have a motorcycle.”

“we should go to a bar or something.”

“let's go get a drink. i wanna see the town!”

“i'm already deciding that i'm making that for you.”

“i mean, we're in a fucking movie together.”

“it's the '80s, baby.”

“i'm fucking pissed.”

“i wanna get out and i wanna solve this crime!”

“oh, are you looking for companionship?”

“oh, she sounds mean.”

“i think you're getting your groove back.”

“i want an appletini.”

“we're doing a drink crawl or something like that.”

“you look awful. you look bad. worst i've ever seen.”

“what, you want me to pretend i'm happy to see you, [name]?”

“watch where you're going!”

“i was just trying to like, prank.”

“someone wants to decapitate you.”

“you're probably the strongest dude i've seen.”

“just really good to be touched.”

“i think you need it.”

i'll go find parking, but i'll meet you at the hotel bar.”

“oh my god, [name], how are you doing? you look great.”

“oh, you've been waiting for that for so long.”

“wait, what?”

[psychedelic-ink]

𝑰 𝑵𝑬𝑬𝑫 𝒀𝑶𝑼 𝑻𝑶 𝑻𝑬𝑳𝑳 𝑴𝑬 𝑻𝑯𝑨𝑻 𝑰'𝑴 𝑮𝑶𝑶𝑫

pairing: tommy miller x fem!reader

genre: smut, soft enemies to lovers, minors dni

word count: 3.4k

summary: when you met him the first time him and his brother was your captor, months later he becomes yours, and quickly after that he become a resident of Jackson. You've already forgiven him for his past, but he's not happy with how eager you are to excuse what he's done.

warnings: tommy having a hero complex, tommy lashing out, piv sex, time skips, oral (giving & receiving)

a/n: the format I've written this in is inspired by @littlemisspascal 's getting lost is being found joel fic, which I highly recommend by the way it was amazing, one of my favorite things ever 💜

i.

The world went to shit, well joke on the world, your life was already shit long before outbreak day. 

It wasn’t for a lack of trying. Nothing just seemed to work out for you. But then all hell broke loose and suddenly it felt like you were off the hook, that you could be someone else, someone you always wanted to be. Someone that you knew you were. Before all this, you were just hurt, felt broken, but still smiled and went about your day. You tried to be good. Tried to be nice. For the most part, you like to think that you succeeded. 

You became a guide. Somewhat similar to Charon, if you spared yourself the thought but instead of guiding the dead to Hades, you guided the living away from it. Things went smooth for the most part, you helped people where they needed to go, killed infected, shot down those who shot first. It was the oddest type of freedom that you felt. 

But life had other plans, and life loved to point its middle finger right into your face. 

It’s a dad and his two kids this time, you were helping them get to the nearest QZ. You cut the fence, helped them through, you knew hunters were lurking nearby, people who survived on killing and stealing—vultures. 

You feel a tight grip on your neck and you’re being violently pulled back. The kids look back at you with horror lingering in their eyes, the dad eager to pull them away. With a deep breath, you manage to force out a smile. 

“Go!” you shout. “You’re almost there!” 

And they run, they run as fast as they can. 

“Fuck!” you hear one of them say, a deep souther drawl heavy in your ear. “Shit, they got away. They had good weapons on them too.” 

“At least we got the one,” the man that holds you answers. “Let’s go back, see what this one has.” 

“Let me the fuck go!” you struggle, attempting to elbow him in the stomach. “You fucking assholes. They were fucking kids.” 

Finally one comes into view, he’s broad—broad enough to stun you into silence. The fear of death lurks around your heart, sucking you into a black pit of realizing that this might be it. He has a glare that could kill, a hooked nose, and, most importantly, a gun. This man, you notice, this man would kill you in a heartbeat. He gives you one last once-over before tilting his head to the other holding you down. 

“Knock her out, Tommy.” 

ii. 

It’s late. Far too late for anyone to be awake. The embers of the crackling fire had died down, only specks of golden orange shimmering between the ash. You’ve learned the names of your captors; Tommy and Joel. Brothers, you assumed, they didn’t really have to spell it out for it to be obvious. 

You’re not sure why you’re still alive. You remember Joel muttering something about using you as bait, or to learn more about the routes that you seemed to know. Tommy had agreed. 

In another life, another time, you would’ve deemed the men attractive. Especially Tommy. He had a boyish charm to him, longer hair compared to his brother (those poor dark locks had definitely seen better days), and mussed unkempt facial hair indicating that they’d been at this for a long time. You understand, to a degree, why someone might choose this to survive. Some people just didn’t know what else to do. Some people simply enjoyed it; the power, the freedom, the giddiness of not having a system to say no. 

From what you understand, these two just had no idea what else to do. Too far off to reach a QZ, or they simply don’t trust FEDRA, whatever it is they seem to have made a life for themselves neither of them looked happy to be in. 

Your eyes fall to where Joel is sleeping, Tommy’s on watch, which makes you somewhat hopeful, you don’t have the strength to piss off Joel—Tommy you can take a chance with, he seemed softer. Softer like a rose, pricking you if you’re too lax and not careful enough. 

You’ve been captured before, and due to that, it doesn’t take long for you to free yourself from the hard ropes they tied you in. You hold your breath as you move away from the camp, careful not to step on any branches or rubble. You see Tommy ahead, he’s looking at you, the moonlight reflecting in his eyes. You expect him to shoot, to chase after you. 

He continues to stare as you disappear into the night. 

ii.

You see a lot of dead bodies by the riverbed. Some infected, some not. You think about turning around, walking back to where you came from but before you can make a decision you’re surrounded. Your hands rise instantly, not wanting to cause trouble. Multiple rifles are pointed directly at you, and you notice a cute black dog but you have an inkling you won’t be feeling the same in a couple of minutes. 

“I’m not here to cause trouble,” you say, the cold seeping through your jacket. “Just lost. I’m not infected.” 

“Naive for you to think we’ll believe you,” one of the horsemen answers. “You mind if we test that out?”

You didn’t mind, but even if you did, you doubt you have any say in the matter. The dog comes forward, ears pressed against his skull, and you instinctively reach out your hand. You can’t really feel the wetness of his nose, but you can imagine it as he presses into your gloved palm. A moment later he starts wagging his tail. 

A horse, along with its rider, steps up and everyone looks nervously at the equestrian. You straighten yourself and notice that even the dog pulls away, the energy she has demands respect, and oozes power. You swallow, looking up at her with both amusement and fear. 

"You can come with us," she says, and without hesitation, one of the men helps you up onto the horse they're riding. Your hands fumble nervously as you grab onto the horse's shoulders, trying to steady yourself.

You’re not dead yet so you must be doing something right. 

iv. 

You trudge through the biting snow, your skin prickles with cold and the relentless flakes melt as soon as they touch your skin. You shudder. The cold is almost unbearable, but everyone has to pull their weight, no exceptions. Narrowing your eyes,, you spot a lone figure struggling in the snow. The way he moves is sluggish and ungainly, like a snail inching its way along a path.

With a sharp whistle, you signal to your companions to follow. They circle around the body with hesitation; it’s a man, a man that is somewhat familiar to you. The stranger groans and turns to his back, chest heaving heavily, you notice the tremble of his lips, the redness of his nose. You even notice the build-up of snow in his hair.

You know him. You have no idea how he ended up all the way here, but you know him. Getting off the horse, you shake your head. You don't know him, not really. You only know his name and what he represents.

Ian approaches, his eyes questioning as he asks, "What should we do? Should we leave him?"

“I know him,” you say, a hint of amusement in your voice due to the irony. “Let’s take him in. I’ll talk to Maria.” 

His eyes flutter open, a brief expression of confusion appearing on his features. You can’t help but lean over a bit, hands placed on your hips. 

“You’re not dead yet. Don’t worry.” 

But as soon as the words leave your lips, Tommy loses consciousness.

v. 

He’s alone at the bar. He’s always alone. 

Initially, Maria was reluctant to let Tommy stay, but for some reason, you vouched for him. You deeply believe that everyone deserves a second chance. A slightly foolish, maybe even childish, thought on your part but you can’t help it. In his eyes you only see parts of a broken man, his belief in the world shattered and gone with the wind. 

Tommy struggles with socializing. He says hi and good morning but that’s pretty much all anyone can get out of him. You’re the only one who knows he has a brother, what he’s done. He’s especially annoyed when you’re around, which you think is a little bit unfair but you digress. He does what he’s told and handy with most things—which is lucky for you, you would hear a handful if he couldn’t do anything. 

You want to talk to him, you have ever since you first saw him again. Hoping that this time it’ll be different, you sit near him not next to him. There are two empty seats between you two. 

“Hi,” you greet him, he doesn’t look at you. In fact, he doesn’t acknowledge you at all. “How are you?” 

No answer. 

“You’re not having any issues right? You know, heating, water pressure, all that jazz.” 

You’re not surprised at the least when he gets up and leave, not a word uttered. He pushes past the crowd and disappears through the door, into the cold. Unlike other times, this is the first instance where anger simmers hot in your gut. You’ve been nothing but patient. But not tonight. He’s going to talk to you whether he likes it or not. 

With anger in your steps, you storm out. Luckily, he’s not far. You find him staring up at the undecorated Christmas tree. Normally, you would find it a somber sight, but you’re too frustrated to think about how good he looks with snow falling around him. 

“Tommy!” you yell out, and he flinches, head snapping to you with wide eyes. “What the hell is your deal?” 

“My deal?” he answers, voice eerily smooth and calm. “I should be fuckin’ asking you that.” 

You’re standing an inch from him, the cold biting into your skin. “My deal? I’ve been nothing but nice to you. Wouldn’t wanna play that card but may I remind you that you’re fucking alive because of me? You could at least not be an asshole.” 

“Sure you wanna go that route sweetheart? Because I could easily say the same thing for you.” 

That night—the night that you escaped, so he did see you. All this time you convinced yourself that it was your eyes playing tricks in the dark. You shake your head, wanting to dislodge the moment from your mind. 

“That still doesn’t answer my question,” you hiss. “Why are you avoiding me? I just want to talk.” 

“Just leave me the fuck alone. You shouldn’t want to talk to me— someone like you… It ain’t normal. I should’ve died that night. I didn’t ask you to fuckin’ save me.” 

You’re taken aback by the silent rage but refuse to show him the effect he has. The only indication that his words had any kind of result is when you take a step back, allowing him some semblance of space. 

“You’re right, you didn’t,” you say softly, slowly. His gaze bores into you. “But I did. And you’re here. I didn’t save you that night to just make a point of who’s the better person. As you said, you allowed me to go that night—thank you by the way—but what are you going to do, just not talk to me? Ignore me? I don’t think that’s fair for either of us.”

You stand frozen as Tommy takes a step closer, his breath hot against your skin. 

"What do you want from me?" he growls, his voice low and threatening.

You try to take a step back but he follows, closing the gap between you. You can feel the heat emanating from his body, a stark contrast to the frigid air around you. His lips curl into a slight sneer, and you can't help but feel a slight twinge of fear.

"You're always so nice, aren't you?" he says, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "But what do you really want? You want me to be your little pet? Fixing me up like some broken toy. Well, newsflash, sweetheart, I'm not broken. I'm just fine the way I am."

"That’s not—" you say, your voice barely above a whisper. "That wasn’t my intention at all. The world is shit, I just didn’t want to add to it."

Tommy scoffs, his eyes glinting with anger. "But you did by keeping me alive. I did horrible things, things you can’t even imagine. So don't pretend like you understand me, because you don't."

“I know the shit you did Tommy. I was almost one of your victims, remember?”

His eyes drop to the ground, the fire in his eyes finally fading. He takes a quick step back, shoulder slumped, he shakes his head. 

“I remember. There ain’t a day I don’t remember the shit I’ve done—we’ve done with my brother.” 

Tommy gives you one last look before walking away, “I don’t need your pity.” 

Half an hour later, you’re still standing there under the snow, completely alone. 

vi.

It’s a dance almost. You find different ways for Tommy to communicate with you. You unlock his anger, his disappointment, his need to be good—the hero, if you will. But to be fair, you can’t take all the credit. It was mostly due to him, you got too close, and he got too frustrated. It was a brief moment of lips touching, then it quickly turned into a desperate ask for submission. You were eager to give, he hated that. Hated that you could when he couldn’t. 

You know that there’s a high chance of other things lingering below the surface, things that he probably hadn’t dared to address himself. 

In the privacy of your bedroom, you’re on your knees for him. Sucking on the tip of his cock eagerly as he stands upright, his hands are firsts that are stuck to his sides. This isn’t the first time, it isn’t the last. By the way salty precum coats your tongue, you know he’s enjoying himself. He has to be, if he wasn’t this wouldn’t be happening. 

You figure that he enjoys fighting against it until he breaks. When he surrenders himself to it, to the pleasure, to the primal need to take, he pins you down and fucks you with everything he has. All his frustration seeps into you, each stroke deeper than the next. You enjoy that he’s rough, you enjoy feeling the lingering sting on your skin long after he leaves. 

Looking up, you swallow him further down. He’s not overly thick but long, the dark curls at the base trimmed but still looking untouched. Tommy thrusts forward, the head of his cock brushing the back of your throat. Your nostrils flare as your lungs convulse with the need to cough, he notices but doesn’t pull back. Instead, you feel two hands cradling the back of your neck, pulling you further down his length, making you take him whole. 

Your eyes go wide and squeeze shut right after. You feel him throbbing in your throat and you swallow, again and again, which prompts him to drag his cock out slightly only to bury himself back into your throat. Your jaw aches, spit dripping down the corners of your lips as you flatten your tongue over the underside of his cock. A faint growl echoes from the back of his throat, you swallow again, he fucks your mouth as he would your wet cunt. Tears flood your lashline, you can barely breathe. Your throat tightens around him. 

“Fuck, don’t close your eyes,” he grunts, the dark curls at the base tickling your nose. “Look at me. Look at me like you always do.” 

The Look, is something that you still don’t quite understand. He says it often, telling you to look at him the way that you do, but you emphasize nothing special when you do end up looking at him. It’s just your normal gaze. He only asks for it when he’s inside you. 

You slowly open your eyes, your lashes wet and stuck together. His thumb smooths over the patch of skin right under your eye, his chest stutters, muscles growing taut under your gaze. 

Ironically, he closes his eyes and lifts his head as if staring at the ceiling. He doesn’t utter another word after that, your lips raw from the way he thrust forward. You feel the twitch of his cock, thick ropes sliding down your throat. You never tire of the taste of him. Not sweet, not bitter. You enjoy the brief moment he forgets where he is, that soft noise escaping his lips, the juvenile way his thighs shake—those are the things that make you ache for the taste of him. You’re an addict. 

But so is he. 

vii.

Your palms press into the smooth surface of the bar counter. Tommy lurks behind you, cock pressing inside, fingers making dents into your warm skin. It’s late into the night, you’re not sure of the exact time but you know it’s late. His one hand slips between your legs, he feels how wet you are, how needy you get for him. He presses a finger to your clit, the pads of the digits moving in deft circles. 

A sharp moan parts your lips, back arching as he pounds into you, the sound of skin against skin loud, yet not enough to pierce the sound of the snowstorm outside. A dose of pleasure buzzes through your veins, electricity crackling across your skin as you feel his length press deep inside. His fingers grasp your throat, pulling you up until his lips tickle your ear. He heaves, his warm breath fanning your skin. 

“Tell me I’m a good person,” he chokes out. “Please.” 

“You’re good,” you answer slightly out of breath. You touch his neck, the position slightly straining but worth it when he holds you tighter. “Such a good man—and I mean that.” 

Your eyes widen with shock when he slides his tongue into your mouth. Tommy doesn’t kiss you often, if at all, but it lights a fire under your stomach. It burns you from the inside out, the smoke of it making your mind spin. Your eyes flutter close and you take a deep breath, he grinds his hips, your insides pulsing around him. 

“I don’t care even if you’re lyin’—” 

He releases you and you stumble forward, hands finding purchase on the bar counter once more. But you can’t hold your position for long, not with the way he’s hammering into you, reducing you into a babbling mess. Your hands slide, your upper body completely falling over. Tommy doesn’t pause, he doesn’t even slow down. He presses you further into the surface.

“Because I know that you are.” 

Tommy suddenly pulls out, a sharp gasp rips from your throat, your cunt clenching around nothing. Before you can protest, however, he turns you over and pushes you. He kneels between your legs, lips finding the tender folds of your pussy. 

Your head falls back when he licks into you eagerly, tasting himself and your arousal. His groans vibrate against you, your thighs threaten to close, the meat of them pressing into both sides of his face. 

His lips press against your clit, suckling and teasing it in a way that drives you wild. His tongue moves in circles as he pushes two fingers, curling them and applying pressure. Without a second thought, you fingers thread his hair, tugging him closer. Arousal pools between your legs.

Your breathing becomes labored and your body starts to shake. Your eyes roll back as your entire body shakes. Your hips buck against him as he continues to bring you over the edge, your cries of pleasure echoing off the walls of the bar. 

Finally, after what feels like an eternity, you collapse against the bar counter, your body still shaking from the intensity of the orgasm. You can feel your skin tingling, your heart pounding and your head spinning. Tommy stands, a hint of pride lingering in his dark eyes. You continue to breathe and watch as he fists himself, the tip of his cock a shade darker when he comes thick ropes over your stomach. You hiss at the heat, the feeling of having a part of him staining you. 

Tommy pulls up his pants, and you notice as you get dressed, he’s avoiding your gaze. You’re too satisfied to care. He licks his lips, which you found was a nervous habit he has and offers you his arm. You hadn’t expected it, but indulge in the gesture by taking it. 

“Let’s get out of here before someone sees us.” 

[reriart]

RE: Your ask I saw a little it ago.

So you know all those BG3 fics where someone’s with a Teifling or Dragonborn and the POV character is really into their partners tail? What if Astarion was curious about what his partners tail was capable of?

Happy Friday!

A different kind of reading

Hi! Thanks for this request. I really like the prompt. It took me several days to decide whether to use a tiefling or a dragonborn (I had never used the latter, so I created one on BG3 to study it a bit). In the end, considering the fact that the dragonborn has many scales, and the nature of fanfiction, I preferred to proceed with a tiefling! I wanted to write Astarion in first person but he is a very difficult character to play, so I preferred a third person. I hope you like it, anon! ;)

As always, please remember that English is not my native language!

Tags: 18+ smut, MDNI, gn!Reader (using they/them), tailfucking, tailjob, Tav is a tiefling that uses magic, kink, sex, mention of Astarion’s past, a hint of angst because why not (trauma + healing at his own times), Tav is insecure about their appearance. Also, a tiny Karlach x Dammon. Divider by @anitalenia. You can read the fic also on AO3.

‘So that's how it works...’ Astarion commented, a sly smile on his face, as he flipped through some old, yellowed pages. ‘Never judge a book by its cover.’

Hard as a Rock and Ninety-Nine Other Spells to Use Under the Sheets is already a questionable enough title; the red linen cover with a big phallic rock on it with fake, cheap gold details is even worse. 

Yet, Astarion had been attracted to that book a little earlier in the evening, among the various texts available in Dammon's house (who would have thought the shy tiefling would be so interested in such topics? ), who had offered a hot drink to the whole group after meeting them in Baldur's Gate (probably in the vain hope of flirting with Karlach... who drank the boiling tea, describing it as ‘refreshing’). Just as the two were flirting, the elf had sneaked around the house, noticing piles upon piles of books. Obviously intrigued by the common theme, he had started leafing through some of them only to be interrupted by Tav.

‘You really read a shit ton of books,’ they had commented, peeping over the vampire's shoulder, causing him to jump on the spot and snap the tome shut. ‘Our blacksmith friend has obscene tastes, truly. Who would have thought such a depraved man!’ had been Astarion's reply, in an irreverent tone... before shoving the said volume under his leather jacket, only to read it in his own tent shortly after sunset to avoid attracting unwanted attention.

Astarion had always spoken freely about sex... at least with strangers, to whom he showed his libertine façade. But with Tav things were distinctly different, ever since he had confessed that he had really fallen in love with them. The tiefling had awakened pure, honest feelings in him, but also anxiety, fear. Fear of making things too fast, fear of not being enough, fear of not being himself when he was with them; of being rotten, broken inside, irreparable.

But Tav had taught him how to love, first starting with a hug that had left the vampire stunned - a simple gesture, as innocent as it was frightening, because no one had ever hugged him since his transformation (perhaps his mother, when he was a child, but it had been far too many years for him to remember). Then the caresses: superficial, gentle, then increasingly intimate. From the face, to the chest, and lower. Astarion had discovered he loved the tiefling's touch, after an initial hesitation. The act of trust itself was the thing that made him feel on cloud nine, far more than the excitement.

Then they had progressed to lovemaking. Astarion had discovered the pleasures of being cared for, snuggled, in ways he had never even imagined. Because imagining being everybody's whore at the Szarr palace was easy, but receiving attention, being the centre of it... that was hard to imagine.

He had discovered the gentle touch of Tav's hands, their warm, sweet mouth, the warmth of their sex, so different from his cold, marble skin...

But there was something that haunted him: their tail. Tav had always been ashamed of it: the tieflings they had known in their life - including their parents, but also Karlach - all had beautiful tails. They had a very simple one, without spikes or cartilage, and also quite thick, with a very round tip. For this reason they tended, whenever possible, to hide it. 

Astarion had never dared to touch it: he had realised it was a weak point for the tiefling. However, that very curious book had led him to discover a fascinating truth.

"Tieflings have an extremely sensitive tail, which swells even more during mating, making it an erogenous zone suitable for all kinds of spells, especially those involving fire and ice."

Astarion's attention had stopped at ‘erogenous zone’. 

He had long harboured a fantasy that perhaps even he, who had probably had more sexual partners than his years spent as a vampire spawn, would have described as perverse. He not only wanted to touch that tail, kiss it, lick it, maybe try to bite it to feel if the blood tasted different there, but also... to have it inside.

Astarion knew very well that he took pleasure in penetration. Tav had occasionally played with his asshole during oral sex, inserting a finger or two, making him tremble and come on their tongues.

But, gods, what would he have given for...?

‘Astarion?’

Tav's face popped up inside the heavy, battered tent, a friendly smile always ready to light up his face. ‘Are you alright? It's the middle of the night and I saw you still have your lamp lit. Do you need blood?’

This was another thing that used to drive Astarion crazy: the tiefling's attention to detail. He cared for him all round, always paying attention to his bloodlust, his moments of weakness when he had none left in his body; they noticed when his body stiffened from anxiety and knew about the nights when the elf couldn't even go into his trance, nights when he usually just read until his eyes were on fire.

‘N-no, thank you sweetheart, you already gave me some yesterday and I don't want to debilitate you any more than...’

‘That book again? What's so good about it?’ they asked, closing the curtain behind them and stretching dangerously towards the tome. ‘Give me here-’

‘Nothing special! It's just, you know, very funny, haha!’ he replies, closing it and throwing it into the backpack behind him using all his agility - not enough, however, to stop their Misty Steps. 

‘Sooner or later I swear I'm going to break that magical necklace’ he mumbles, as Tav appears behind him, grabbing the book in time. ‘Let's see what you were reading...’

With a theatrical gesture, the tiefling's hand rises, making the pages move to where the reading had been interrupted.

"Tiefling and sex: a hellish pleasure, chapter 16."

Astarion swallows, averting his gaze. ‘’It's-it's not what you think,‘’ he stutters, throwing off his mask once more. ‘I was just curious...’

Tav begins to read, stroking their chin. ‘So, you want to use magic in bed. Are you sure?’

‘I... that's not what I'm interested in,’ he confesses, knowing that he can't blurt it out this time. Also because the tiefling's tail is finally free and not hidden under pounds of fabric, which brings all of Astarion's blood between his thighs. 

It is beautiful: smooth, free of frills. It moves like a whip, like an oak branch on a rainy evening. He licks his teeth.

‘But it's a book about magic and sex. And you don't look to me like a great lover of the first one. Drop it, Astarion,' they intimated. But the vampire's gaze is fixed on the tail moving left and right, the round tip caressing the air. He feels an emptiness inside him, a void he wants to fill.

Tav sighs, turning around. ‘There's something in the tent that-’

They breath catches, realising that behind them there is, in fact, only their tail. 

"Tieflings have extremely sensitive tails...’ they reads out loud, then snap the tome shut. 'Is that what's going through your head? Do you want to touch my tail? You know I hate it and if I could I would..."

‘’It's gorgeous,‘’ he whispers, in a trembling voice. ‘I can't stop thinking about it. I know you can't stand its appearance, but I want to touch it so badly...’

Tav doesn't know how to react. It is the first time Astarion confesses this interest of his, even complimenting. He had only previously asked to touch it and had been smacked full in the face by the said tail.

But they are attentive to details. They notice the vampire's erection, his dilated irises. His cheeks, perhaps by a trick of the light, even look a little pink.

‘All right, but just once. I don't want you to... look at her any more than you have to,' they warn him, prodding their thumbs with the horns, a gesture Astarion has by now learned to interpret as shyness. ‘Let's consider it an exchange for that time I touched your ears.’ 

The elf is amazed when they turn around, showing their shoulders. The tail comes out of a hole artfully sewn between the trousers, so as not to show more than it should. 

He releases it from that restraint, lowering it just enough to look and touch it in the warm candlelight, but without showing any extra skin. Smooth, thick, to the top, round and perfect. Astarion reaches out a hand, making them both gasp when he touches it. 

He runs a thumb over the top, squeezing the tip between his fingertips just enough to make his beloved sigh. He then proceeds down, bringing it close to his face, stroking it with the tip of his nose. ‘Gods, you're so perfect.’

The cold breath on his skin makes Tav gasp, who plants their claws on his own thighs and bites his lip, trying to hold back a groan; which they're unable to do when Astarion reaches the base and after a brief massage begins to lick the patch of skin that joins the tail to the body.

‘Oh, gods, Astarion... wait!’

‘You know you have to use the safe word in these cases,’ he whispers. Ever since they had started making love, because Astarion was still exploring his tastes, the tiefling had suggested using a word of caution in case either of them really wanted to interrupt. This was because, occasionally, they both tended to ask to wait when they really just wanted to get on with it. 

... ‘and I'm not hearing it.’

Tav, almost instinctively, stretches their body downwards, raising the bottom upwards, moaning as softly as possible so as not to wake the others, while he continues to lick the base. Twisting the tail in his hands, just like a cat when its attention is drawn to prey.

‘Now, hold still,’ he orders to Tav, licking languidly along the length. ‘Tail included.’ They execute, trying to spy him from behind the shoulder. ‘What are you gonna do?’

‘You'll see soon enough, my love.’

Astarion flicks his tongue up and down, helping himself with his hands to bring it to his mouth. The fangs caress the skin, without scratching. The temptation to bite is high, but for now his plans are otherwise. ‘Stop...’

His mouth finally reaches the tip, and after two languid licks, he holds it between his lips and sucks, then tries to take as much of it into his mouth as possible.   ‘Oh, gods...! Astarion, what are you...?’

The elf begins to move his head up and down, as his hand sneaks under Tav's trousers, admitting a laugh-like cry when he feels their underwear wet. And Astarion's own cock begs to be released, as he begins to soak his trousers. Soon he stands up, abandoning his tail and lowering his trousers. ‘Get undressed,’ he begs them. ‘I need you now.’

After they both get naked, Astarion starts kissing Tav's neck, inevitably ending up biting and sucking some blood. ‘Mh, you look delicious tonight, my dear.’

‘Thank you.’ Their hand plays with his hair. ‘I really enjoyed that. I didn't think you could do something like that...’

As he licks the two tiny holes to make them heal, his hands return to the Tiefling's thighs. ‘...That's not the only thing I plan to do tonight.’

‘Oh, yeah? And tell me, what goes through that well-literate mind?' they tease him, pushing so that the thief's dexterous fingers can suppress the desire that is driving them out of their minds.

‘Do you remember when you told me that you would like to do what you desired with me? That night when you got drunk and were terribly, incredibly horny and sexy, but we couldn't do anything because we all had to sleep in a shit room?’

‘Yes.’



‘Then do whatever you want with me, but under one rule. You will have to use only your tail, my dear.’

Tav turns their head, raising an eyebrow, but without interrupting that pleasurable touch between his legs, his eyes full of desire. ‘Are you sure? I don't want you to make you...’

‘I'm asking you,’ he reassures them, kissing them on the forehead. ‘I'm comfortable with it, because it's something I've never done or tried. It's undiscovered territory, just ours.’ In spite of the burning desire, there is an infinite thoughtfulness and gentleness in his eyes and voice. ‘I'm yours.’

The tiefling turns completely back, kissing him. Through the tadpole, they feel a strong curiosity from Astarion, curiosity that - surprisingly - they have as well.

‘Do you really like my tail that much? It's so ugly. Karlach's one is much more beautiful." They stroke their own tail, analysing the humid tip. 

‘But it's not yours. And then yes, I find it dreadfully gorgeous... and arousing,’ he confesses, lying down on the pillows. They lie on him, caressing his face. The long tail strokes his testicles, then the length of his cock. 

‘Mmmh...’

‘Do you like it like that?’ they ask, as the tail makes one, two, three laps around Astarion's manhood. ‘Tell me if I'm tightening too much.’

Astarion gasps, gripping to the velvet underneath him. ‘D-don't stop. And hold tighter.’

The tiefling begins to wiggle their tail, tightening.. It's not exactly a piece of cake, but keeping it hidden all the time has led them to train it and execute precise movements. The vampire trembles, arches his back in an attempt to accompany the motion; his thrusts begin to become imprecise, words disjointed, eyes glazed over.

‘I want you inside. With the tail. Please!’ His tone is desperate, barely enough breath in his lungs to speak. Tav releases him, noticing how red the tip is.  ‘Did I squeeze you that hard? Does it hurt?’ they ask, concerned. 

‘N-not at all,’ he babbles, covering his face with his hand, his cheeks red with blood and growing excitement, as he spreads his legs apart. Tav makes to approach his cock and take it in their mouth, but he stops him. ‘P-please... just the tail, now! I can't take it much longer.’

A smile paints their faces as they lie on top of him, one hand holding the tip of the tail in front of his entrance. Astarion's beads of arousal had been so copious that they descended to his asshole, which allows Tav to insert the tip without difficulty. The vampire groans, eyes wide with astonishment as the tail slides deeper and deeper, opening him up, filling him. It moves up and down, but also sideways, forming an "s". He bares his fangs, clawing at the pillows, breathing heavily. Tav watches him, a hint of pride in their chest at knowing that the part they had so rejected now makes both feel good. 

‘On your hands and knees’ they order, taking Astarion by the hips and flipping him over. The elf leans on his elbows and knees as Tav resumes penetrating him. The tail fills him, until it hits his most sensitive spot, moving left, right, spinning. 

‘Shit!’ he screams, collapsing, but Tav holds his bottom up and stands up, spreading his legs apart. ‘That's it, enjoy it, my love.’

This is too much for the poor thief. He comes suddenly, with long, white streams hitting the pillows, carpets and floor. Tav rides his orgasm, until Astarion is breathless.

‘That was... incredible,’ he gasps, trying to recover, but his legs don't respond. His body still shudders, just as his cock continues to release little pearls of pleasure. ‘I hope you've changed your mind about your tail.’

Tav smiles, stroking his back. ‘Yeah, I think I have.’

Remember that trauma is not forever. I happened to read about using kinks to overcome PTSD, and I thought that was fitting for Astarion. As a SA survivor, it's important to me to use this fanfiction both for fun and to leave a positive message when I can. Pain and suffering do not last forever. <3

[billthedrake]

BACK IN THE GAME

"Damn, bro... you got magic hands."

Kent Green said it as a joke, but it was true. His best friend Bryan knew how to give a fucking neck message. And after going hard on shoulders at the gym, his buddy's strong fingers were working out the knot just right.

"I must be doing something right, bro. You're getting a fucking boner."

Kent blushed. He was close with Bry, but over the last half a year had gotten closer. He still had a lot of hang ups, though. "Sorry, man."

"Don't be sorry," Bryan said. His voice was crazy deep, deeper than Kent's still frat-bro affect. That baritone also fed his boner. "I like getting you hard, man." Those fingers were working deeper into Kent's traps now. "When was the last time you got laid?"

"You mean besides us fooling around?"

"Yeah, bro. Besides that."

Kent let out a sigh. "Fuck, Bryan. Too long. Ten, maybe eleven months?" He turned his head to look back. Bryan had a great body but was more regular looking, not a pretty boy. But the 25-year-old had a gruff handsomeness that grew on you. Kent tried not to crush out on his workout buddy and just enjoy the sex that happened when it happened. "I guess I'm a little messed up."

Bryan gave him a wry smile and removed his hands, patting the platelike pecs of Kent's chest. Kent had a leaner, taller build than Bryan but the dude's muscle was harder, more compact even. Bry sometimes teased his bud for being the golden boy - blond, college educated, from a well-off background. They were polar opposites in a lot of ways but had bonded at the serious bro gym they went to. Working out together, even cycling together.

"Not messed up, dude," Bryan assured him. "I just hate to see a dude like you blue balled."

Kent laughed. He leaned into Bryan's warm, muscular body. He had a good feeling sex was gonna happen. Post-workout sex, which was the best kind. But neither man was rushing it. "What about you, bro? You getting laid."

"Yup," came that deep voice. Then with hesitation, Bryan added, "I gotta boyfriend, actually."

That made Kent's body tense. They'd never talked about being gay. Kent, for the record, wasn't or at least didn't think of himself that way. He'd compartmentalized the fucking around with Bryan, too. Now his friend was putting it all out there.

"That's cool," he said softly.

"Am I weirding you out, bro?" Bryan asked. That bariton almost scratchy soft in its question.

"A little. But not really," Kent said. The spell had been broken, though, he scooted up away from Bryan, turning to face forward on the couch. He still had the erection his buddy's hands had given him, but that wasn't going down fast. "Sorry, man," he started. "I'm a little messed up in the head."

Bryan grimaced and nodded. "I guess I'm not the best at respecting the bro code," he said with a self-deprecating laugh. He settled back into his previous seating position, from before he offered the neck massage. But Kent could see that telltale thick rod poking up Bry's workout shorts, too.

Kent wished he didn't feel the sexual attraction he did. "So... who is this guy?"

"His name's Chris," Bryan said. Bashful as he spoke, but it was weird for Kent to see an almost kidlike glee in that gruff dude face as Bryan described his love interest. "He's kind of a normal dude, not a muscle guy like us... we've been going out for a couple months now."

That surprised Kent. "What the fuck? For real?" Then, "does he know about... you know..." he gestured between him and Bry.

Bryan nodded. "Not specifically, but he knows I play around. He does too when he travels."

"That's cool," Kent said. He felt dumb, and wondered if gay dudes were always easygoing like that.

The two sat on the sofa, a little awkward but that sexual chemistry not yet gone as their eye contact grew heavier.

"Bro..." Bryan started. "You wanna fool around? Like I say, Chris is cool with it. He's probably nailing some dude in a hotel room in Miami right now," he added with a chuckle.

Kent thought for a second. The gay thing added a layer of doubt to all of this, but at the end of the day this was still Bryan. He knew they could have fun and still be buds after. He gave a nod and shot Bryan a grin. "If you're up for it, bro... yeah, I'm pretty hard up right now."

"Hell yeah you are," Bryan grinned as he stood up off the couch, his boner pretty hard. He peeled off his workout shirt and involuntarily flexed a little as he tossed it aside. He was on a gaining cycle, as was Kent, but his beefy genes made the bulk that much bigger and more vascular looking.

Kent took in the vision and decided if he was gonna be gay for a dude, this was the kind of man he was into. A muscle guy like him. Even bigger than him. He stood up and followed suit, and by the time his shirt cleared his head, Bryan's hands were on his chest, lightly dusted with blond fur.

"You decided to stop shaving," Bryan observed, his fingers exploring the striated muscle be beneath the soft hair.

"Yeah," Kent chuckled. "Too much fucking work."

Bryan looked up from the chest and into Kent's eyes. His own brown eyes playful and a smile forming on that gruff face. "You think you could help me out this weekend? Chris likes me smooth."

This was weird as fuck, Kent thought, but he was strangely turned on. "Yeah, bro," he said. And like that the two buddies were lip locked. And Kent was now openly feeling up that magnificent bulking bod. Indeed he could feel the bristle short chest hairs starting to come in, and he imagined all that Bryan Walker beef shaved baby smooth...

"Let's take it to the bedroom, bro," Bryan hissed, reaching down to cup his buddy's erection for a second before stepping back and leading the way.

It had been a couple of months since they'd done this. Usually it was a quick BJ swap. But Kent felt a thrill as he watched that bulked up back and that meaty ass, evident beneath the gym shorts even. And fuck, even Bry's hamstrings and calved were off the charts. An inspiration.

The two twenty-something men were horny but they took their time. Getting naked, embracing on Bryan's queen sized bed, rolling around, making out. For all of Kent's hang ups, he'd never balked at the kissing part. Maybe because it was hard wired to his dick. Or maybe because he liked the way it just felt different kissing a man than a woman. Even when Bryan shaved, the dude had a lot of stubble.

Bryan Walker had fucked Kent, twice. It was OK, Kent guessed, but decided he liked it better the other way, and once Bry had made it clear he wasn't keeping score, that it wasn't tit for tat, it became a regular thing that Kent would do the plowing, and Bryan would give up his muscle ass for his buddy.

This was how it was gonna play tonight. Bryan leaning back, relaxed, legs spread wide as he let Kent lube and finger him good. Nice and slow, both men enjoying the foreplay.

"I'm glad you told me, bro," Kent said as three fingers were now buried inside his friend's snug ass. "About Chris."

"I shoulda before," he said. "Was too fucking chicken." He gave Kent a nod that he was good to go. This is how buddy sex often was. Two dudes free to talk while they boned each other.

Kent wiped the excess lube on his hard cock, a nice 7-incher that seemed just big enough to make Bryan know he was getting fucked good, without being too much a challenge. He scooted into the saddle and whacked his hardon against that wide-spread crack. Bryan fucking shaved down there, too, though his manscaping had been neglected long enough for the dark hairs to grow back.

"Hope you don't think I'm ass about things." He watched the connecting point of that puckered hole and his dick. Kent didn't realize before, maybe was too dumb, but Bryan Walker got fucked a decent bit. He was tight, but the ring was crinkled in a way that showed regular use. Rather than be a turn off, it excited Kent and he nudged his wet cut cock against the folds. He looked up at Bry. "I guess I should ask... you completely gay, bro?"

Bryan nodded. God his buddy's dick felt good, right in that spot. "Yeah, bro. I guess I lied when it came to chicks."

"I didn't," Kent said. Not judgmental, but clearing the air. "I just don't know how to put in the work anymore when it comes to women."

Bryan looked up at Kent with brotherly concern. He never knew how this golden boy could have a problem on the dating market. Kent was a total stud, a cute fucker, and he didn't act like a douche. "You just got off your game, bro," he said, reaching up with one hand to caress the bare chest and ab muscle. "We'll get you back."

Kent nodded in thanks. He contracted his core and let his hips move forward. And like that he was sinking into Bryan's warm body.

"Aw fuck yeah..." Bryan hissed. That deep voice was excited, and Kent wondered how much Bryan played up liking a cock inside him. Just hearing that thrill in Bry's voice was driving Kent to push in further... another inch, then another, and all the fucking way in.

"Oh God, you're fucking big, bro!" Bryan gasped.

"Too much?" Kent asked, checking in.

"Fuck no. Fuck me, man."

Kent did. He leaned forward and started a slow, steady fuck, then increased his pace. His cock was boning Bry deep and good soon.

Bryan's mouth was slack, halfway between a smile and a leer. His brown eyes met Kent's green one in a hungry gaze. "Fuck yeah... go for it buddy."

Kent really had hoped to make this about Bryan. He felt he owed it to his friend. But this all felt too good. The tight sensations around his cock, the feeling of all that bulking muscle beneath him, that connection and love he had for his best bud. And maybe this is why Kent didn't have a steady girlfriend. Not matter what head games he tried he could never last more than a minute.

He wasn't gonne break the minute mark now, either. "Shit!" he hissed. Orgasm was hitting quick and hard. Like lightning.

"Get it bro!" Bryan urged. "Get that fucking nut, man."

Did Kent get it, all right. The sweet goofy ex-frat boy tossed his head back and let out a loud and surprisingly loud cry. "Fuck! FUCK FUCK!" Kent yelled as he came deep in Bryan's hole, his thrusts nearly stopping to lock his hips in place to deliver his seed, with just small mini pumps of his dick along the inner walls of Bryan's ass.

Once he finished cumming he let his body relax and his forehead come down to rest on Bry's "God, man, that was incredible." Kent gave Bryan a soft kiss then pulled back. "Sorry I couldn't last longer," he said.

Bryan grinned but was mostly horny as fuck now. "It's all good man.... I like seeing you turned on." He looked down between their bodies at his own hardon. "You ready to suck me off, buddy?"

This was their arrangement. Kent fucked. And after, he serviced Bry orally. Kent slowly pulled out and then got in place, kneeling between Bryan's spread legs. One hand caressing Bryan's shaved ballsac while the other went to the ass to prod that cummy hole with a finger or two while Kent sucked.

Kent Green wasn't an expert cocksucker but he was pretty good for a mostly straight dude. He knew what would get his bud off and he went for it. Steady, quick bobs focusing on the top three or four inches. Pretty quick he felt the warmth and tasted the brininess of Bryan's hot seed. Unlike Kent, Bryan was a quiet cummer, but the soft caresses of Bryan's fingers in Kent's blond hair was the guy's way of showing appreciation.

The two men lay in silence next to one another for a minute. Between the gym and the sex Kent was tired and relaxed. He could almost fall asleep right there in Bryan's bed. But that was a line he didn't feel like crossing at this point.

He looked over at Bryan. Happy he could have the experience he just had and still be friends. "So... tell me about this Chris guy."

Bryan got a coy smile on his face. "You sure, man?" he asked.

"Dude... he's your fucking boyfriend. Of course I wanna know," Kent replied.

"Well, he's older, divorced... an airline pilot, actually."

"Yeah?"

Bryan grinned. "Yeah. It's definitely fucking hot... kind of a bucket list thing for me actually... to bang a pilot. It just turned out to be more than a one-time thing."

"That's cool, bro," Kent said, turning on his side to face Bryan. They'd done this before, talking man to man in bed after sex, only it had been Kent filling Bryan in about some hot date he had. "Um, how much older is he?"

Bryan paused. "A lot older. You might thing I'm weird, bro. But we kinda do the daddy-son thing."

Kent laughed. He'd been a connoisseur of "stepmom" porn and had enjoyed a few encounters with cougars, so the idea didn't seem so far fetched. But it was wild to hear it from the other side. "For real, bro?"

Bryan laughed nervously. "For real. Dude's 51 and pushes my buttons big time. Gray hair, dad bod the whole works."

"You're a man of surprises, Walker," Kent said, plopping back on the mattress and resting his head on the pillow.

"I guess," came the deep voiced reply.

Kent felt his eyes get heavy.

"Bro..." Bryan said. "If you wanna crash here, that's cool."

Already Kent's eyes were closing. "Yeah?" He could feel the bed shift beside him. Bryan was getting up. To shower off, or maybe just to brush his teeth. Kent should probably get up the energy to get back home himself. But it had been a long day. Just another minute....

Bryan got back in beneath the sheets and looked over Kent. He used to resent how fucking good looking his buddy was. Roman nose, rosy cheeks, blond hair, not thinning like Bryan's. Kent was tall, athletic, and cute in an easygoing masculine way, and Bryan had spent a solid year being jealous of a lot of things about Kent Green until he decided it was better just to be happy for the friendship. Everthing else... the sex, the intimate time like this, was just a bonus.

"We'll get you back in the game, buddy," Bryan said aloud.

But Kent didn't hear. He was already sleep.

[pomplalamoose]

Ooohhh so how do we think all the dynamics with dilf!luke would change if his kid was maybe ~10 years younger than you instead of your age (like maybe you met cuz you were their camp counselor or something and they got super attached to you)?

Omggg hiiiii! I got so excited when I saw it was you who sent in a request, I absolutely cherish all your ideas regarding this AU🩵🩵

Because I think it shows the subtle change in dynamics best I focused especially on a first encounter and then on how I imagine his child to cause further entanglement between him and you, since I think they'd definitely be the catalysator, especially in the beginning

• Luke, of course, remains a single dad in his late thirties to early forties and lives in a nice, cozy house with his child

• (if we assume they're about 10 years of age, he became a father at thirty)

• you, as a camp counselor/tutor/teacher/etc. don't know anything about his person, the picture you have in your mind consisting solely out of stories told by either his child or your co-workers

• but since you haven't met him yet, you're not particularly interested, not paying them much mind, as everything you know about the kid's guardians blurs together into a confusing mixture anyway

• of course this will change sooner or later, possibly when Mr. Skywalker comes to pick up his child and you see him for the first time from afar

• it's hard to miss him

• his consuming presence makes him stand out strongly from among the other parents gathering at the entrance, the dark, perfectly tailored suit he's wearing only accentuating the stark contrast

• maybe he just left work?

• even with so much distance between the two of you he strikes you as very handsome, though you can't help but feel glad you didn't run into him directly

• you wouldn't have been able to speak even a single word

• still you can't get him out of your mind and going forward you find yourself putting decidedly more effort into your looks

• just in case you see him around around again

• just in case should he take notice of you as well

• (you're only a little bit embarrassed by how quickly he put his spell on you)

• meanwhile his child, always happy to engage in conversation, seems to really love their dad, a smile blossoming on their little face whenever they talk about him

• especially as soon as they realize you're listening closely they can barely find another topic, making you endeavor to learn more about Mr. Skywalker a lot easier

• quickly you don't only know his first name but also when and if he's celebrating his birthday, what kinds of ice cream he likes best and which he doesn't like at all, details about his favorite knitted sweater and that he recently gifted them a rubber duck to take their baths with

• which is great, really, and you're not going to deny how very interesting all of this is

• but is he single????

• obviously you can't just ask a child whether their mum is in the picture or not and if their dad is currently dating someone

• luckily, or not so luckily, you're not the only one who's attention was caught by the tall, attractive man and you're able to catch some snippets of gossip among colleagues and the parents of other kids

• though gossip is all it is and soon you know why

• Mr. Skywalker is as cold as he is beautiful and impossible to draw near to

• it takes all of your courage to not flee the scene when one day his child decides to introduce you

• normally they let go of your hand as soon as they spot their father, quickly leaving you behind in their excitement as they jump into his arms

• today, however, they don't and you're starting to grow rather uneasy when they continue to drag you forward, towards a man already regarding you with raised eyebrows

• standing in front of him he's even more intimidating than from afar and you have to fight the need to lower your eyes when his gaze sweeps over you

• were it not for his child hanging on to your arm you would've left as fast as possible

• as it is though you're forced to stay

• bravely you endure the encounter consisting mostly of the child's happy blabbering and their father's polite but curt responses

• he's holding back, clearly not comfortable with your presence and studying you more and more intensely as time goes by

• he seems displeased and you have no idea why

• is your smile that terrible?

• did your greeting offend him in some way?

• does he not approve of how you're dressed?

• or about the way you interact with the children?

• you didn't think it possible but despite your initial feeling he eventually, slowly, starts to warm up to you over the next few months

• maybe due to the way his child obviously adores you?

• (yes absolutely, you're the only topic they can talk about at home, similarly to how they only talk about their father to you)

• true, he doesn't give you much to work with, the way he addresses you always stilted and his smile reserved, yet you couldn't be more relieved

• he doesn't seem to think you completely horrible and inadequate to take care of his child in his absence anymore!

• (also, as far as you know, none of your other colleagues have received a smile yet!)

• maybe you don't have a chance with him, this he made clear, but that's okay, there's joy to be found in a little harmless crush

• you dare to relax

• until his child invites you to their birthday party

• you had noticed, of course, how they followed you around like a duckling and how much you meant to them but still...

• wouldn't that mean to overstep a line?

• though when they present you a handmade birthday invite, smiling up at you so hopefully, you can't say no

• maybe it will make things easier for their parents (or hopefully just Mr. Skywalker?), you reason with yourself

• with you there they won't need to worry quite that much about a rambunctious crowd of little kids making a mess of their home

• you're good at your job and excell at pleasing even those hard to satisfy

• the longer you think about the upcoming event the more you feel your excitement grow

• you wonder if Mr. Skywalker is more relaxed in private

• as it turns out he's not

• and neither are you when you arrive and learn you are the only guest

• "I really like my friends", explains the child, "but I'd rather have you all to myself for once!"

• well

• there goes your plan to make a good impression by handling many kids on your own, while maybe sneaking a glance at Mr. Skywalker from time to time, who, in your head, sits somehwere in the distance, relaxing with a coffee

• of course, he does none of these things and instead never once leaves your vicinity, always lingering nearby to keep an eye on the two of you

• it's unnerving and continues to be so as you spend the day with activities his child planned for you

• at least there's no trace of a woman living here with them, which substantially lifts your mood despite the stern eyes you feel prickling in the back of your neck

• once it's time for you to go home you're exhausted

• to some extend you had fun, yes, but deep down you're ashamed

• how is anyone supposed to be taken seriously by an attractive older man while hosting a tea party for stuffed animals, rolling around in the grass and playing Mario Kart?

• does he even think you competent enough to do anything after watching his child chasing you with a water gun?

• your little friend insists on hugging you goodbye tightly

• "can we do this again soon? Pleaseee?", they whisper in your ear and you're inclined to agree were it not for the dark figure leaning against the wall a few steps away

• "you'll have to ask your daddy", you whisper back, hoping this will be a topic for another day and discussed without you

• once again things turn out differently though when they immediately throw themselves at their dad with great enthusiasm

• "DADDY CAN THEY PLEASE COME OVER AGAIN SOON?????"

• you don't know where to look

• what if Mr. Skywalker denys his child's request, here, right in front of you?

• he has the guts to do so, that much you were able to gather

• "we'll see about that, yes?"

• at least that's not a no, you tell yourself, yet you feel your eyes water in embarrassment

• forcing a smile you nevertheless thank him for his hospitality and receive a polite nod in return, before finally being allowed to flee the uncomfortable situation with burning cheeks, your heart beating painfully in your chest

• still holding back tears you've nearly reached the street when behind you the front door opens again causing you freeze

• half hoping, half fearing it's Mr. Skywalker you turn around, but instead spot the much smaller figure of his child against the backdrop of the lit interior

• you can't tell for sure but they seem to be grinning in mischievous delight before their little voice rings out clearly through the darkness

• "mY DADDY THINKS YOURE VERY PRETTY"

• for a second it's quiet

• then

• "but I'm not supposed to tell you because he says it's not proper"

[tthatsonme]

you’re my doctor

by molly

just a btw, this isn’t gonna work if you’re under the age of consent/ under 16 or 17 so please don’t even try 😭

Part I - Maddy

You’re the embodiment of Maddy (and Cassie’s) outfits, vibes, and colour palettes in season on of euphoria, you’re just like the soft/pastel purples, pink, and blue that they’d wear in the first season for clothing and makeup, these colours plus black are your colours aka the colours that make you look best, your vibes are very 2019 soft yet very sexy and fun, you’ve always been a naturally confident person, you’re basically like the real life version of Maddy because of how addictive and magnetic your energy is, you’re extremely seductive and can use your sexuality to your advantage, not only do you have pretty privilege but you have sexy privilege too lolz, you don’t see sexuality or sex in general as a bad thing, if anything you embrace these qualities, all your life everyone has loved you whether it was familial, platonic, or romantic, you’re just someone that people like to be around, you’re always making new friends and meeting new people everywhere you go, people want to be around you because of your fun and entertaining personality, people seem to gravitate towards you every day purely because of the way that you are, if you still live with them, your parents/guardians are literally like the ones in euphoria, you being 16, 17, or older means that they treat you as such, they basically don’t really care about what you do and trust you wholeheartedly, like mentioned before; you can use your sexuality like Maddy did on Nate but basically for anyone, people need you in every way possible, you’re the type of girl that has people commenting shit like #needthat on your posts or videos

people glaze you and put you on a pedestal all the damn time, even if you looked like dog shit people wouldn’t see it that way, it’s come to a point where people are constantly fantasizing about you, people always watch you (not actually tho 💀 this part is an exaggeration btw) all the time just to get a glimpse of what or who you are on the inside, people would literally beg to see you nude, your nude body is probably one of the sexiest things anyone who had the privilege of seeing has ever seen, like you’d prob have people begging for you to start and OF or have people saying that they’d pay for ts, your body has little to no hair on it if you want, but if you’re someone who doesn’t want to shave/wax, people find it attractive if not more attractive when you don’t shave because of the naturalness of it (I don’t wanna see any of you hateful b*lle d*lphine wannabes in the comments shaming people for not shaving, stfu no one wants to hear it), any signs of chicken or strawberry skin on your body is easily removed and is easy to get rid of, everyone treats you and stares at your like you’re some sort of urban legend, they seriously cannot help but stare at you like 🤩 lololololol, your voice is probably one of the most attractive things about you though, your voice sends chills down peoples spines when they hear it (ib yvonne luv her), pretty much everything about you is mesmerizing and sultry but especially your voice, your voice is kinda like Alexa Demie’s in terms of tone, your voice sounds how slow dropping honey looks, your voice is so hot people would literally pay to hear you say certain things to them, you could make a living off of voice acting if ykwim

people swear that they’ve seen a real-life succubus because they’ve seen you, when you’re around the gender you’re attracted to they feel like they’ve been put under a spell like they’ve been given a heavy dose of aphrodisiac because of how you make them feel, you live a life very similar to Maddy because you’re constantly going out and partying, your life is fast and interesting, but even if you’re popular amongst your peers or your friends you’re completely immune to peaking in high school/whatever stage in life you’re in right now lol, you’re immune to letting a tiny thing such as popularity get to your head which could cause you to become ignorant and unaware, you’re completely and 100% down to earth and humble and people appreciate that very much, people feel genuinely bored when they’re not around you most of the time, everyone just loves you, you’re always known as the funniest and most interesting person in the room

Part II - Cassie

While people love you for being the “fun one” people also find their way to you when they need you for other reasons, people find you being okay and stable with being “emotional” comforting therefore people find you understanding and easy to confide in and talk to, when people think of what a “perfect girlfriend” would be you immediately come to mind, one might even start to fantasize about the things that Nate did about Cassie in that one scene in season who about their future together and stuff, even if you are the “male gaze” it never really occurred to you because you don’t actually really care, you don’t lean on or depend on men, women, or anyone else to give you validation or to make you feel loved, you’re completely fine and okay with yourself and your body, you’re basically the opposite of Cassie when it comes to dating though lol, no shade but you don’t fall in love super easily anymore or with people who do the bare minimum (replying, giving you attention regularly etc), people don’t know why they fall in love with you so quickly but they just do, what is it about you that allows people to fully surrender themselves? people tend to see you as “softer” than most people at times (as in you’re not like a bitch all the time idk 🤷‍♀️), your body is something that you have so much love for, you respect and love your body so much, you’ve never had issues with your body because you love it so much, there’s nothing physically masculine about you, your face, your voice, or your body, you feel feminine enough, you’re extremely good at sex, regardless of your experience in the bedroom you’re naturally very good at sex with the gender you’re attracted to, you feel strong and confident in the bedroom, you’re immune to feeling shy when having sex, after you have sex you feel comfortable and zero shame with yourself

you love your body unconditionally and can change it however much you want, your breasts grow to be as big as Sydney Sweeney’s, your breasts are free of sagging and are very perky, and you gain or lose your desired amount of weight in all of your desired places, your body morphs into whatever you’re visualizing but more perfect, your body was already perfect but now it’s even more perfect + have your desired rib cage size/change your rib cage size safely (if you want to change it ofc)

extras but mainly safety l tw for a brief mention of inc*st

-physical attraction affirmations don’t work on creepy and undesired people

-physical attraction affirmations don’t work on family members

-any creepy and undesirable people who are currently attracted to you no longer are

-any family members that are currently attracted to you no longer are (I don’t mean to trauma dump btw I just added those for people who need it 😭)

-anyone who’s under the age of consent or under the ages 16 or 17 can’t manifest any sexual benefits from this or any subliminal that’s similar

[lemons-bittersweet]

THE OUTSIDERS FROM THE BOOK IN DESCRIPTION.

IM SORRY IF THINGS ARE SPELLED WRONG NOR THE SENTENCES BEING REAL SENTENCES BUT I DONT HAVE THE TIME TO DO ALL OF THAT CURRENTLY

PONYBOY CURTIS- AGE 14- I have light brown almost red hair and greenish-gray eyes I wish they were grayer because I hate most guys that have green eyes but I have to be content with what I have my hair is longer than a lot of boys wear theirs squared off in the back and long in the front and other sides but I'm a greaser most of my neighborhood rather bothers to get a haircut size I look better with long hair I like to watch movies alone so I can get into them and live them with the actors when I see a movie with someone it's kind of uncomfortable it's like having someone read your book over your shoulder I'm different that way I mean my second oldest brother soda who's 16 going around 17 never cracks a book at all and my oldest brother Darrel we call darry works to long and hard to be interested in a story or drawing a picture so I'm not like them and nobody in our gang digs moves and books the way I do for a while there I thought I was the only person in the world that did so I loned it soda tries to understand at least which is more than darry does but then so does different from anybody he understands everything almost like he's never hollering at me at the time of day or he is or treating me as if I was 6 instead of 14 I love soda more than that I have ever loved anyone even mom and dad he's always happy go lucky and grilling while there Dairy's hard and firm and rarely grins at all but then darrys gone through a lot his this 20 years growing up too fast soda will never grow up at all I don't know which way is the best i'll find out one of these days Sodapop Curtis-AGE 16/17- more handsome than Ponyboy knows he's slim but has a friendly draw sensitive face that manages to be reckless and thoughtful at the same time dark gold hair that he comes back long and silky and straight and in summer the sun bleaches into a shining wheat gold eyes are dark brown lively dancing reckless laughing eyes that can be gentle sympathetic one moment and blazing with anger the next he's got his dad's eyes but his is one of a kind. Darrel JR Curtis-AGE 20- 6 feet two inches tall broad shoulders and muscular has dark brown hair that kicks out in front and slight cow lick in the back it's like his dad's but Darry's eyes are his own he's got eyes like two pieces of pale blue-green ice They've got a determined set to him like the rest of him he looks older than 20 tough cool and smart he would be real handsome with his eyes weren't so cold he doesn't understand anything that's not playing hard fact but he uses his head Steve Randle-AGE 17- Tall and lean with sick greasy hair he kept combed in complicated Swirls he was cocky smart and Soda's best buddy since grade school Steve's specialty was cars he could lift a hubcap quicker and more quietly than anyone in the neighborhood but he also knew cars upside down and backward he could drive anything on wheels he and soda worked at the same gas station steve part-time soda full time and the gas station got more customers than any in town whether that was because Steve was so good with cars or because so would attract girls like honey jaws flies

Two-bit (Keith) Mathews- AGE ???- Keith was the oldest of the gang and the wisecracker of the bunch he was about six feet tall stocky built and very proud of his long rusty colored sideburns he had gray eyes and a wide grin and he couldn't stop making funny remarks to save his life you couldn't shut that guy up he always had to get his two bits worth in hence his name even his teachers forgot his real name was Keith we hardly remembered he had one life was one big joke to tube it he was famous for shopping with his black switchblade and he always was smart enough to the cops he really couldn't help it everything he said was so irresistibly funny that he just had to let the police in on it to brighten up their dough lives he liked fighting blondes and from some unfathomable reason school he's still a junior at 18 1/2 he never learned anything he just went for kicks I liked him real well because he kept his laughing at ourselves as well as other things he reminded me of Will Rogers maybe because of the grin Dallas Winston- AGE ???- He had an elfish face with high cheekbones and pointed chin and small sharp animal teeth and ears like a lynx his hair was almost white it was so blonde and he didn't like haircuts or hair oil either so it fell over his forehead and wisps and kicked out in the back and tufts and curled back behind his ears and along the Naples neck his eyes were blue blazing ice cold with hatred of the whole world dally had spent 3 years on the wild side of New York and had been arrested at age 10 he was tougher than the rest of us tougher colder meaner the shade of difference that separates the greases from a hood was a present valley he was wild as the boys downtown outfits like Tim Shepherd's gang in New York dally blew off steam and gang fights but here organized gangs are rarities they're just small bunches of friends who stick together in the welfare is between the social classes of rumble when it's called it's usually born of a grudge fight and the opposite just happened to bring the friends along oh there are few gangs around here like the river kings and the Tiber Street Tigers but in the southwest there's no gang rivalry so Dally even though he could get into a good fight sometimes had no specific thing to hate no rival game only Socials and you can't win against them no matter how hard you try because they've got all the brakes and even wipping them isn't going to change the fact maybe that's why Dallas was so bitter he had quite the reputation in the file and down at the police station he had been arrested he got drunk he rode and rodeo's lied cheated stole rolled drunk jumped small kids he did everything I didn't like it but he was smart and you had to respect him Johnny Cade- AGE 16- If you could picture a little dark puppy that has been kicked too many times and it's lost in a crowd of strangers you'll have Johnny he was the youngest next to me smaller than the rest with a slight build he had big black eyes and a dark tan face his hair was jet black and heavily greased and combed to the side but it was so long that it fell into shaggy bangs across his forehead he had a nervous suspicious look in his eyes and that beating he got from the socialist didn't help matters he was the gang's pet everyone's kid brother his father was always beating him up and his mother ignored him except when she was hacking off his something and then you could hear yelling at him clear down at our house I think he hated that the worst getting whipped he would have run a million times if we hadn't been there and if he hadn't been gang Johnny would have never known love and affection are.

[sitp-recs]

My pet peeve is when Harry and Draco start liking each other too fast... Especially when it's physical attraction. Do you know any slow burn fic, where they really dislike each other at first, and slowly fall in love bit by bit as they get to know each other? Even better if one (or both) don't realize that they might like man at the start

Hi anon! Hmm I tried to think of enemies to lovers without the fast sexual burn element (which I personally love lol) and couldn’t come up with many fics. I thought I’d keep it simple and go for my favourite slow burn with some initial animosity and/or bi confusion (in some cases). Maybe my followers can share more recs? I hope you’ll find what you’re looking for!

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Draco Malfoy is forced into hiding with the Golden Trio and dragged into their search for horcruxes. What ensues is a journey of redemption, unexpected friendships and an unwanted, turbulent romance with Harry Potter. Warnings for swearing, sexual content, and dark themes.

Eclipse by Mijan (T, 287k)

Draco swore his revenge on Harry for Lucius's imprisonment, and Harry all but laughed at him. But Draco is planning more than schoolyard pranks this time. The old rivalry turns deadly when Draco abducts Harry for Voldemort. It's the perfect plan, guaranteeing revenge, power, and prestige, all in one blow. But when Draco's world turns upside down, the fight to save himself and Harry begins, and the battle will take them both through hell and back. If they come back.

Turn by Saras_Girl (E, 306k)

One good turn always deserves another. Apparently.

[iamcxlleigh]

𝐖𝐎𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑. | 𝐚𝐚𝐫𝐨𝐧 𝐡𝐨𝐭𝐜𝐡𝐧𝐞𝐫 𝐱 𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐜!𝐨𝐜

𝐂𝐑𝐈𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐀𝐋 𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐃𝐒

𝐬𝐢𝐭𝐮𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 ⨟ aaron knows how misunderstood and discriminated against people with your condition are, but he doesn't realize how far people's cruel words are capable of going until you show it to him yourself.

𝐚𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 ⨟ the reader has ASD (autism spectrum disorder), also known as 'asperger' but from now on I will use the term 'ASD' so that other people can feel more comfortable, in my country it is still known by the term asperger, so if I ever forgot to make this clarification, I hope you will excuse me. ♡

𝐧/𝐚 ⨟ english is not my native language, an apology for any grammatical or spelling errors.

(the reader has a default name, I do not use y/n).

It was a warm and rainy night, the sound of the drops hitting the windows along with the sound of the TV in the background was the only thing Charlie was paying attention to, she was extremely focused on her things, a few meters away was Aaron sitting in the dining room of his home, in front of him was his work laptop, several papers and folders, and he kept talking on the phone, he was a very busy man indeed.

As Hotchner spoke in his typical authoritative tone of voice, he watched through his work clutter as his partner sat quietly cross-legged on the couch, in front of her on the living room table with several small trains and a large history book on locomotives, occasionally the young woman would look up at the television set that was broadcasting a program on antique car restoration.

Charlie told her many times about her great interest in trains and their history, being an expert on the subject practically, she could talk so much about it that it could border on obsessive, but it was something she could not control, a detail to highlight of her condition was that: People with this disorder tend to develop very specific tastes and often out of the ordinary or of little interest to a person, such as the love of planes, trains, dinosaurs, prehistory, cars and other things.

At that moment thunder struck, catching the girl off guard, she gave a little jump in her place while Aaron didn't even flinch, she turned to see Hotchner laughing at her reaction, he also smiled slightly at her previous action, he thought how funny and sweet she looked to be scared like that, but quickly returned his attention to the call talking firmly.

Charlie watched her partner for a few more seconds, thinking how scary but imposing Aaron looked, she would never have imagined that a man like him would love her, not when she spent most of her life discriminated or ignored by every boy or man, she felt lucky to get a man as protective and caring as the handsome FBI agent a few feet away from her.

After about 15 minutes she finished arranging her little trains in order from biggest to smallest, she concentrated on reading more carefully her book about the most important locomotives that have ever existed in history, she read her book carefully trying to nourish herself with what will catch her attention the most, at that moment Aaron's partner in the bau, Dr. Spencer Reid, came to her mind.

She remembered hearing that this young man had the ability to read 20,000 words per minute, she imagined for a second that he could read that fast, but she thought, could he really enjoy books that fast? She wasn't sure.

After reading for quite a while, she was amazed to see a small but beautiful model of a locomotive, a Class LB&SCR E2 manufactured between 1913 and 1916, she got up excitedly with her book in her hands walking towards Hotch, who was looking at his laptop while still talking on the phone with who knows who.

She stopped next to the older man with a small smile hugging her book with the bookmarked page waiting patiently for him to finish talking, she was again enraptured with Aaron, looking from his dark blue long sleeve shirt to continue with his masculine and attractive features to her sight, and finally his black hair.

The moment he finished speaking, Hotchner leaned back in his chair stretching his arms and legs somewhat wearily, looking at the young woman next to him who looked anxious with her book in her hands.

— What's the matter, Honey? — he asked his partner calmly.

— Look, Aaron — She opened her book, sitting confidently on Hotchner's lap to show him comfortably what she wanted to show him, Esté regained his posture passing his left hand around the young woman's waist listening with absolute attention to everything she said, forgetting about work for a moment.

She began to speak enthusiastically showing him the black and white photo of the locomotive, talking in detail about what she had seen in the book, complemented with her own opinion about what she had seen, Hotch listened interested and amazed by Charlie's ease in retaining the information he liked the most, her excited voice filled his heart.

When he met her she was so withdrawn and shy, under that mask hid an intelligent and talkative woman.

— The new design was considered successful, except that it was discovered that they had an inadequate water supply. Therefore, when a new order was placed for five locomotives, they were delivered extended side tanks — He explained to his partner putting the book still aside continuing with his explanation, absentmindedly running his hand down Aaron's neck.

— But finally delivered between June 1915 and October 1916, ready to be used in the period of initiation of the first world war — Hotchner finished leaving his partner surprised, she looked at him looking speechless confused, action that he quickly perceived — What?

— No, nothing... Just that - He stopped abruptly feeling his heart racing, regretting what he was about to say — Relax, I'll leave you to your work.

He was about to take the book to get up from his partner's lap, but the latter quickly prevented him by holding his chin carefully making sure he looked directly at him.

— Tell me what's wrong — Aaron demanded without sounding threatening or frightening, in his voice there was a touch of patience, understanding and tranquility, just wanting to know what was going on in his partner's head.

He seemed to think about it a bit before answering.

— Well, nobody really pays attention to me when I talk too much — She confessed wanting to lower her gaze, but Hotch's hand didn't allow it — They think I don't notice, but I keep talking just so I can tell someone other than myself.

— Did you think I wasn't paying attention, Charlie? — He asked without losing his stance on the situation, but inside he was surprised that she would think that about him.

— It's just that this is not a subject of your interest, I thought you wouldn't give it any importance — She answered confidently.

— That doesn't matter, whatever you want to tell me I will pay attention to it and I will remember the details if necessary. If it's important to you, it's important to me too — Aaron's quick answer left the girl speechless, feeling silly for a second.

How could she doubt Aaron like that? Believing he was like everyone else, when he absolutely wasn't, his hand slowly removed itself from the older man's neck until it rested next to his other hand in his own lap.

— Are you upset? — She asked, thinking he was probably upset with her for saying that — No, what am I asking? I must have sounded stupid, I'm sorry.

— Don't apologize, Charlie. It's okay — He replied passing his hand to her cheek sympathetically, giving small caresses — I'm not upset.

Despite his affirmation, the young girl still seemed to doubt his answer, she was so transparent with her gestures and even with her physical language that it was impossible for Hotch not to notice her feelings at first sight.

— Whenever you want to talk about anything, you know that I'm all ears only for you — He spoke making her look at him attentively, making a great effort to look him in the eyes — And when I'm not around, Jack will also listen to you, you know he loves to talk to you.

— Yes — Charlie admitted, letting out a little smile — He is really interested in the things around him, in history, one day I even explained to him the meaning of ‘Hey Jude’ and he never stopped staring at me.

Hotch laughed when he heard that last anecdote, he was curious to know what his son would think when his partner explained to him the meaning of The Beatles song.

After a second of silence, it was Charlie herself who removed Aaron's hand from her face.

— I don't want to keep distracting you from your work, I'd better let you get on with it — She spoke with a small smile, although when she saw all the paperwork on the table she felt bad for all the work Aaron had on top of him, and to think that in her office there was more.

She thought Hotchner's work was very interesting and once in a while she asked him a question or two, but he didn't like to talk much about what he saw out there, and she understood that perfectly.

— Give me 10 more minutes and I'll be with you on the couch, OK? — He promised looking attentively at the young woman, who nodded agreeing with his word, she didn't leave without leaving a kiss on Aaron's cheek clutching his book.

He watched her leave and let out a slight smile to himself.

As he sat on the couch he watched his partner again in the distance as he typed away on his laptop with a serious expression, he remembered her words with great attention, as he did so he felt a warm sensation pass through his chest.

It felt so good to be listened to, that among hundreds of seemingly ignorant people, there was one who was willing to give you their undivided attention.

It was simply wonderful.

— 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐞𝐧𝐝 —

‹ 20. 04. 2023 ›

credits for : @iamcxlleigh

¡Hola, gente! How are you doing? I hope you are doing well! Thank you for reading my writing today, I come back and repeat! That English is not my native language, so I am sorry for any kind of grammar or spelling mistakes.

If you have any request, about something you want me to write, you can write to me and I will see if I will do it. 🤍

calleigh angelo ──── ‘lista maestra’

¡Nos vemos! 🗯️

[sidekick-hero]

Suitcase of Memories

Authors: @legitcookie and @sidekick-hero l Artist: @luna-fortunaa l Artist: @maikaartwork | Beta: @acasualcrossfade | Beta and amazing cheerleader: @yournowheregirl

Posting on Tuesday, November 7

In a bygone era, two men defy societal norms and find an instantaneous, powerful connection that defies all odds. Their secret love blossoms in the shadows, forming an unbreakable bond. However, fate eventually intervenes, cruelly tearing them apart. Fast forward to the present day, Steve awakens from an extraordinary dream that feels startlingly genuine and lifelike, like he was really there. The memory of it haunts his every waking moment, making him question if he somehow recognizes the mysterious, curly-haired stranger playing his guitar at a street-corner, although they have never met before. Steve continues to cross paths with this enigmatic figure, Eddie, until they surrender to fate and their instant attraction. As their relationship deepens, Steve's dreams become increasingly vivid, detailed, and intense, leaving him with an uncanny sense of familiarity. They also strangely reflect the growing romance and struggles of his newfound relationship. Is it all just a coincidence, or is there a deeper connection that defies the boundaries of time and fate?

Read more under the cut for a sneak preview!

Steve usually never misses his bus. He’d rather get to the bus stop ten minutes early and wait instead of making a mad dash to catch it. But not today. Today, missing his bus is just the cherry on top of an already off day.

"Shit!" he exclaims as the exhaust from the retreating bus surrounds him, throwing his hands up in frustration. He stomps his foot, chanting "Fuck, fuck, fuck”.

He doesn't regret helping the lady, especially after he was the one who made her drop her groceries, but he also can't help but think: Why today? With a long-suffering groan, he turns and heads toward his apartment.

It's a beautiful day, thankfully. There are only a few clouds in the sky and a light breeze is blowing through the warm summer air. It would be a perfect day for a stroll if it weren't for the dull ache that still lingers deep in his chest. It follows him like his own shadow, dark and elusive. He wishes it would take a hike; he’s always prided himself on being able to shove things that bother him into one of the many boxes he stores in the attic of his mind. If he can pretend they don’t exist, they can’t affect him. It’s worked this long.

Steve just wishes he could remember why something as insignificant as a dream could make him feel like this. Why —

A melody, hauntingly familiar, reaches his ears. It's coming from further up the sidewalk, and he picks up his pace, his feet almost moving on their own in their hurry to find the source of the song before it stops.

Turning the corner, he's greeted by a beautiful man with an acoustic guitar, and the sight steals the breath from his lungs.

The man has long, curly brown hair, and his face is pinched in concentration as his thick, ringed fingers idly strum the instrument. Watching him play is mesmerizing, the gentle melody like a long forgotten memory. It's as if the man has cast a spell over Steve, drawing him closer and closer until Steve is standing right in front of him.

The man must have noticed him approaching because when he lifts his head he looks right at Steve. As their eyes meet, Steve feels an electric charge running through his body. He gasps softly at the overwhelming wave, and the eyes of the guitarist widen at the same time.

"Hi," says the breathtaking figure before him, friendly and curious.

Of course, Steve acts like an idiot, because instead of answering like a normal person, he just keeps staring at the man, mouth probably open, eyes wide. After a long moment he catches himself and replies in a breathless voice, "Hi.”

They look at each other for a moment before the man's lips curl into a small smile. "Like what you hear?"

Steve clears his throat and nods a little too forcefully. "Uh, yeah, man. It sounds great."

The man strums the same chords again, and goose bumps start to rise up Steve's arms. He can't help but ask, "It sounds really familiar. What is it?"

"Oh, it's nothing. Just something that popped into my head," the man shrugs, his eyes moving sideways, finally breaking eye contact, and he starts fidgeting with his rings. There's something so familiar about the way the man talks and moves, but Steve can't put his finger on it.

"Have we met?" Steve asks, eyebrows furrowed. He's still staring intently at the man with the guitar. It's like he's listening to an old record, one he used to know by heart but hasn't listened to in a long time, and it's just skipped a few beats and he doesn't know where he is in the song.

"Pretty sure I'd remember you if we did," the man replies, his eyes shifting sideways and back to Steve, giving him a wink and grinning widely, white teeth flashing behind full lips. Oh fuck, he has dimples too.

Steve ducks his head, the heat of a blush flushing his face, causing the other man’s face to soften into a genuine, warm smile.

The blaring of a car horn cuts through whatever is happening between them, and both sets of eyes look over Steve's shoulder to find the source. A taxi driver is yelling at someone in a Porsche and both men are hurling insults back and forth, getting more creative with them by the second.

Steve turns back to the guitarist with a chuckle and runs a hand through his hair. "I better get going," he says, sounding reluctant to his own ears.

He tosses a thumb over his shoulder as he slowly starts to walk away. "But really, dude, you're, uh, really... good," he finishes lamely. He remembers when he and Robin first started at The Bean Scene. She still hadn't liked him very much back then, leftover animosity from high school, and had started keeping track of all his unsuccessful attempts at flirting. This performance right now would have earned him a tally in the You Suck column. It seems as if the man in front of him had taken the breath out of him and all of his charm with it.

"Thanks, man. Maybe I'll see you around sometime?" God, I hope so.

“Uh, yeah, I’m around!” Stop. Talking. Harrington. Steve raises his hand, about to smack his forehead in exasperation, and just catches himself, giving a little wave with fluttering fingers instead. Just as he's about to turn around to hide his burning face, he remembers with a small oh to drop a $5 bill into the man's open guitar case in front of him.

"Ah, thank you kindly, good sir," the man says dramatically, punctuating it with a small bow, the same wide smile on his face as before. Steve's heart flutters at the sight, and warmth spreads through his body as another wave of familiarity hits him.

Steve finally turns and walks away from the street corner where, unbeknownst to him at the time, his life changed forever. He has to force himself not to turn around, not to look back, because it feels like he might suffer the same fate as Lot's wife. Just turn to salt, unable to ever leave. Still, as he walks home, his mind is caught up in replaying the past few minutes in an endless loop, the feeling of familiarity still nagging at the back of his mind.