#skull x reader

[milky-fixx]

Suits

They looked way too good in suits.

feat. adult!reborn, adult!skull, tyl!tsuna, tyl!xanxus, tyl!yamamoto

implied not sfw. afab reader. this is a repost of my old work

Reborn

He always looked sinfully carnal, but tonight he was especially so. He knew you were watching him, if the amused glint he directed your way was anything to go by. That’s why he wasn’t surprised when you led him outside the gala and into a private restroom.

Before you could blink, he spun you around, hands gripped your waist as he pinned you against the wall with his hips. He nuzzled into your neck, chuckling.

“What’s gotten you all riled up, amore mio?”

When you responded by smashing your lips against his, clutching his face desperately, his lips tugged up into a smirk. You gasped when you felt him bite into your lower lip, and when you pulled away, his eyes were dark. 

“I think I have an idea,” he purred. “Why don’t I take care of you?”

Skull

You were…surprised by how well Skull cleaned up, considering his default outfit consisted of his motorcycle suit. Even so, it took you awhile of gawking at him in the entrance to your shared bedroom before he became flustered.

“W-What?” He rubbed his arm. “Do I look bad? I knew I should’ve taken out my lip piercing, dammit, your parents wouldn’t like that…” he mumbled, turning to walk away.

He was interrputed by your arms wrapping around his middle, holding him in place. He called out your name, flustered, before you answered. 

“You look amazing.” He shivered at the lust weighing down your words, how riled up you suddenly sounded. “So sexy, in fact, I might have to cancel plans with them….” 

Tsuna

Even though he was the boss of a mafia family, he still struggled with things like putting on his tie. You smiled as you offered your help and he sheepishly agreed.

“I don’t know what I’d do without you,” he admitted, as you looped his tie around into a knot.

You rolled your eyes, smiling. “Well,” you said, stepping back to survey your work, and discreetly, the rest of him. Tsuna was always a cutie, but he had matured into such a… fine specimen. Especially in that suit. “I think you look… capable without me. Very capable. Boss.” You winked.

His eyes darkened, his hand shooting out to grasp your wrist before spinning you towards him. You landed in his arms with a squeak, his breath warm against your face, his gaze molten. 

“Boss, huh. I wonder what other names you’ll be calling me tonight.”

Xanxus

If he wasn’t so sexy in that suit, you would say he was an arrogant asshole. As it was, he was still both.

Some lackey from a small family had been chatting you up a little too friendly at the gala, and once Xanxus took notice, you can damn well be sure he told that trash to get a fucking life. But not before groping your ass in front of him, before declaring you were his woman.

And now you were in the bathroom, your legs wrapped around his frame, while he held you propped against the wall. His hand groped your breast roughy.

“Stupid. Why the hell are you entertaining loser trash?” He grunted. The sleeves of his jacket were shoved down, revealing his white button up.

You knew you shouldn’t incite him even further, but at the same… the sex was so much hotter when he was. 

“Maybe I just wanted to see you when riled up.”

No one came into the bathroom that night, deterred by the sounds the two of you made.

Yamamoto

Takeshi was trying on the suit the Vongola tailor had made for him, and he asked for your opinion. You were surprised when you walked into the dressing room, and he wasn’t anywhere to be seen.

“Takeshi?” You called out, before nearly screaming when you felt a hand wrap around your eyes. 

“Shh, it’s me.” You would recognize that playful voice anywhere.

“God, you scared me,” you said, swatting his hand away, before turning to face him…. Oh. Before ogling the way his slacks clung to his thighs, the way his shoulders looked so broad in that suit.

Yamamato, ever-observant, noticed your stare. You missed the wicked grin that stretched his face.

“Like what you see?” His voice was husky, and sent shivers down your spine.

You were already locking the door. “Very much so.”

[ant1quarian]

Ataraxia - Readers Wing

In my Bad Sanses x Reader story, Ataraxia, Reader is an Avian who has some pretty bad damage done to their wings.

They are incapable of flying, and there's no easy telling whether they'll ever be able to fly again.

[frickingnerd]

stuck in detention together

pairing: ryuji sakamoto x gn!reader

summary: ryuji earns the two of you an afternoon in detention...

“don't give me that look, ryuji–!” you quietly hissed at the blonde. “those puppy eyes don't work. this is your fault that we ended up here…”

ryuji's loud mouth had caused the two of you to end up in detention together. he really couldn't shut up, but this time he had dragged you into this as well. you had only tried to get him to shut up, but somehow that had led to you getting detention as well.

“i'm so sorry about this, i swear–!” ryuji defensively raised his hand. “i didn't mean to get any of us into trouble–!”

despite what he was saying, there was a hint of a smile on his lips. it was hard to believe him, when he was clearly hiding a grin. if you didn't know any better, you'd say he had done this on purpose.

“i'm not talking to you anymore, ryuji…”

you huffed quietly and turned away from him, a pout on your lips. ryuji sighed softly, but that hint of a smile remained on his lips. even if you didn't talk to him, he'd still be able to spend the afternoon with you. just the two of you, in detention…

[all-things-ghostly]

Just One Touch - Skull x Reader Lockwood & Co.

I’ve been in this fandom for nearly a year and for the entirety of it I’ve been obsessed with this little green asshole. And honestly I’m flabbergasted that I haven’t been able to find ANY x reader fics of Skull on any site. Maybe this just says something about me lmao. But in case there’s any other ghost lovers out there, this one’s for us 🫡 I got some inspiration from Elemental :)

The very idea of it screamed forbidden.

Skull knew you could never love him. You were a mortal, and he was a ghost. No one has ever heard of such a thing, and if they did, they’d probably be crowding at the door with pitchforks the next day. He had little hope that you would be into to the idea of such a relationship either.

And frankly? He wasn’t quite sure why he liked you himself. He typically hated people like you. The sweet and loving type; the type of person that would go out of their way to make others happy. He's never quite understood the concept of looking out for anyone other than yourself. To him, such kindness was a weakness that would surely get you killed at some point.

Maybe it was the fact that you were a Listener, like Lucy. A good one, too. The two of you were the only people who could communicate with him, so I suppose he’s bound to form at least some kind of bond with you at one point or another. But… no, it went beyond just that. If that were the case, he would’ve just fallen for Lucy. There was something… different about you.

He thinks it’s the way you treat him like no one else does. Shockingly, you seem to decently respect the guy. Everyone else throws insults in his face (although, to be fair, he starts it), never truly trusts him, looks down on him for being a ghost, and in the case of George, hardly cares about his wellbeing… but you were always nice to him. He would’ve found it annoying, he should’ve found it annoying, but he can’t. Skull loves the way to talk to him like an equal. Most nights, his jar will be safely tucked away on top of your nightstand, so he can talk with you long into the night. The two of you could talk about anything—your life, his life, any struggles you’re going through, the awesome movie you just watched. And, you’re shocked to find that the ghost actually has quite a bit of wisdom to him, considering his usual snark. He will put in an effort to comfort you with his words when it’s needed. It’s a side to him only you know.

You had grown deeply attached to one another in the couple of years that you knew each other. Even if you liked to admit it much more than he did. Although, he didn’t really need to admit it… you knew that old ghost cared about you. Lucy did, too. She heard the way Skull’s voice grew warmer whenever he spoke to you. She noticed how he rarely ever said anything remotely cruel or snarky to you. She saw his face soften up whenever he watched you walk by, those green eyes of his staring with a sad and deep longing for you. Lucy could tell that the little ghost was pining for you, and boy, did she tease him BAD for it.

But… he never got to tell you.

He was going to. At some point, anyways. But unfortunately the explosion at Fittes got to him first.

Of course, you were the one who grieved the most after this. There had been no response from him for nearly two weeks. Every day you clutched the burnt skull close to your chest, hoping to feel anything, anything at all… it broke your heart to even look at it. The bone had turned brown and black from char, and it had a large crack running up the right eye socket all the way down the back of the head. The other socket had melted in a way that created a sad and droopy appearance.

Skull thought he would be ready to move on after this. He really did. But every time he felt his soul slipping away, he stopped himself. It wasn’t that he feared death anymore, no—if that were the case, he wouldn’t have sacrificed himself to save the rest of you in the first place. This time, he felt he had some unfinished business.

It took him so long, much longer than he would’ve liked, but eventually he gathered the energy to connect back with his injured Source and return to the mortal world. Of course, he was right by your bedside, as usual. It warmed him to see how you’ve been taking such meticulous care of his skull ever since the incident. And then, when his eyes fell on you, the heartache started up all over again. The confusing mixture of love, passion, and pain.

“Y/n?” Skull whispered, struggling to fight back a mess of emotions swirling up inside of him. He wanted so badly to reach out and wrap you in his embrace. The ghost was so caught up in his emotions that he didn’t even realize he was free until now; the jar was gone, which means he was no longer bound.

You were in a similar state of shock upon seeing him, and stood up from your bed with tears forming in your eyes.

“Skull…?”

In front of you was something you never thought you’d see: a young ghost, similar in age to you, gazing at you with the most caring eyes you’ve ever seen. His skin was a lime green that glowed slightly in the darkness of the room. He wore a white dress shirt that tucked into his dark gray pants, which were held up with matching suspenders. His hair was a slightly darker shade of green than the rest of him, and although it was messy, it looked absolutely adorable on him. You have to admit, he’s one handsome ghost.

The more you looked at him and let the situation sink in, you realized that the urge to hug him was just as strong for you, too. But unlike him, you didn’t hold back. You stepped towards him with your arms spread out, more than willing to take the leap and finally hold the ghost you grew to love.

Skull, however, took a step back.

“No, Y/n… we can’t,” he said with a deep frown, looking down at his feet. “I could hurt you. The Ghost Touch…”

A frown spread across your features, too. You knew that he was right. Ghost Touch was still a possibility and could kill you if you made contact with him.

“Can’t we at least try, though?” You ask, a more hopeful look replacing your sad expression. “You never know. Maybe things are different for us.”

“How can things be different, Y/n?” He says, sounding a little strained. “You’re the only one with any sort of common sense around this bunch, you should use it. My ectoplasm is like poison. If you touch it, you die. There’s no other way of putting it.”

“But there could be! Just look at Marissa and Ezekiel. They touched each other loads of times!”

Skull thinks about that for a little while, and then smirks. “I suppose you’re right about that. There was certainly a little something going on between those two idiots,” he chuckles to himself. Then, his tone goes back to being more serious. “But, still. Their circumstances were complicated. I think it’s better if we just play it safe. I’m sorry.”

You look visibly disappointed, and Skull does too. He ponders his words for a moment and speaks up again.

“Believe me, Y/n… I want this just as much as you do. Maybe even more.”

He then sighs deeply, and this catches your attention.

“Look… there’s a reason I returned here. Personally, I could gladly go without ever seeing some of these ‘eccentric’ people again,” he scoffs, clearly thinking about a certain egotistical leader and bespectacled boy. “Lucy… it’s safe to say I’ve formed an attachment to her, as much as she begrudges me. Although, I suppose I don’t charm her all too much, either. But you, Y/n… I hate to say it, but you genuinely mean something to me.”

Skull has to pause for a little moment again. It seems that this is all very hard for the green ghost to admit. He’s not used to being vulnerable like this, and feels like somewhat of a hypocrite for being sensitive when he so often gives others a hard time for behaving the same way.

“I love you, Y/n.”

He sniffles. The ghost has begun to cry.

“I never knew how to say it until it was too late. But I love you. So much more than you could ever know, more than I ever knew I could. I could hardly believe myself once I realized I was starting to feel this way. I wanted so badly to deny it, to push it down… usually I would just find people like you to be a pathetic twit, never anyone I would fall in love with.”

Skull chuckles in a bittersweet way. “Who knew. Looks like this crude old ghost still has a heart in him after all.”

It takes a moment for you to process all of these words. You never knew he felt this way about you. You just thought all of those little “hints” were just him messing around as he always does. There’s a slight moment of silence that fills the air as you think through what he says.

Skull cuts it off. “So, believe me, Y/n. There’s nothing I want more than to hold you, to kiss you. But I’m sorry, my love. I cannot risk losing you. I would never be able to live with that guilt.”

Another moment of silence, this time slightly more solemn.

“Isn’t that exactly why we should try it?” You ask in a soft voice, a little smile forming on your lips. “If anyone’s worth risking it all for… it’s you, Skully. I love you too.”

A sob wracks its way out of Skull’s throat the moment those words hit his ears. A green hand quickly covers his mouth as the tears stream down his face, muffling his further cries. He's not used to acting this way at all but there’s just something about you that allows him to feel vulnerable and break down his walls. Teary eyes meet with yours, and you can sense deep emotion within them.

When you step closer to him, he doesn’t fight it this time. He just stands there and cries, still covering his mouth, and never taking his eyes off yours.

Then, you reach out… and gently wipe a tear away.

More silence.

Your hand lingers there for a moment. A thumb caresses his cheek. Nothing happens.

You and Skull glance at each other with the same shocked expression, still in complete silence, before your hand moves again. You lovingly cup his face. Then pet his hair. Then grab his shoulders.

Nothing.

The silence is broken when Skull’s sobbing resumes. His hands shake intensely as he reaches up to grab your wrists. This ghost boy has been touch starved beyond belief and he hasn’t even realized it until now when he finally feels your gentle touch. Suddenly you find him scooping you up in the tightest of hugs, his hands wandering every part of your body they can touch, memorizing every curve, every feature… all while he weeps. You retaliate the affection by giving him those soft touches he has already fallen in love with and kissing his forehead and cheeks.

“Y/n, my darling…” He whispers, pulling you into another strong embrace once again. “Oh, dearest…”

He simply melts right into you once you hug him back. Years of pining, tension, and heartache melt right off of him. All he feels now is peace, love, and pure joy. The things he thought he could only dream of having.

It’s up to you to take the initiative and kiss him, since he seems far too preoccupied in just the feeling of your hugs. Soft ectoplasmic lips meet yours and the two of you fit together like it was always meant to be. Poor Skull still cannot believe the luck he has.

But rest assured, he now knows that he has you. And he will never, ever let you go.

[oops-its-a-fanwork]

Tidbits about the lepom horror boys, Skull and Sugar 🤍

Some little facts and ideas about the Legendary Pokémon Horror boys, plus a better idea of what they are like! (and what they like to do with you <3!)

Read more about their home and backstory here!

Rock/psychic types, due to their species’ first typing always being psychic, and them being revived fossils which adds a rock typing!

They can both send huge pulses of levitation magic, as opposed to the smaller but more controlled version Sans and Papyrus can, due to their core memory of needing to keep the entire ceiling of a cave up long enough for people to evacuate. They can't teleport though: it seems as if that is a skill that has evolved when the guarded area became bigger: going from the mountain and its immediate surroundings to to an entire region, which is closer to a large country in size.

Sugar’s crystals glow in the dark just like the crystals littering the caves. Outside of the mountain this would make him stand out in the dark, making going outside a little unnerving for him as well. Inside it actually camouflages him completely with the caves though, and he accidentally jump-scared you more times than you'd like to admit. Or maybe he did it on purpose. You still have some trouble determining just how mischievous this dude really is.

Skull has quite a blank stare starting out, not having eyes or even eyelights, but he learns to create eyes as time goes on. He usually goes with a version of a duskulls’ glowing red eye, as they were the first ones to offer to teach him and they get along well. In time, other eyes may be added to the roster. I personally think you two should hold your own little private pokémon beauty contest and you should teach him to create anime eyes. Instant win.

Sugar is a great storyteller: his role in officiating marriages, leading rituals and tasks like that have made him great at speeching, getting people's attention, getting at the core of the matter and all that jazz. He loves to recount stories of how things used to be to the younger pokémon. Don't get it wrong though: he’s just as good a listener as he is a speaker, and he loves hearing stories and new info about the world around him. Just don't pressure him to find out about this new world too soon ok? Give him some time to adjust.

Skull loves listening to these stories, and still has some faint memories of hearing ancient sugar speech near the temple, surrounded by humans and pokémon. If he closes his eyes it's almost like he’s there…

Sugar, ever the multitasker, was also one of the trial masters of the area! Specifically in charge of the more physical puzzle aspects, Sugar was in charge of designing trials for anyone who had something to prove: coming of age rituals, trials to pass before joining a high ranked position, you name it! Those who wanted to prove themselves before they left the mountain in search of adventure would come to ask for a trial based on their strengths and weaknesses, and he would pour his soul into that special design. And don’t think that he’ll go easy on you: falling down is a part of life. Now what will you do, brave human?

Skull would help his brother with the puzzles. As in, he would use his levitation magic for certain parts, make sure no one gets hurt, and maybe give some advice now and then. His own trials however, would be the judge of character, and he would be a voice of letting people learn life lessons. If Sugar made sure that people knew that when you fall you always get up, then Skull was the voice telling you to reflect on your past and let go of it, decide what you want now and use that knowledge to do it. He wouldn't tell people what's right or wrong (although he was usually the one to kick people out on the rare occasion it was necessary) but he knew how to get honest answers out of someone on who they are and who they want to be.

Skull is an absolute cuddlebug, and Sugar’s love language is full of acts of service and gift giving. This pretty much means that Skull will often curl up around you and fall asleep rumbling some deep purr when he gets to know and love you, and Sugar will usually be cooking you up many different things, as they combine both of those love languages quite well: 

You can create a cuddle pile with Skull and all your pokémon if you all need a rest, and he might transform into an even bigger pokémon to fit you all on top of him. Talk to him like this and you can feel him rumble out his answers, scratch or pet him he’ll be putty in your hands. This absolute sweetheart would even put energy into trying to regulate his temperature to make everyone comfortable. Hot outside? He cools himself a few degrees. Cold weather? He’ll warm himself up like a radiator. It takes a long time for him to (re)learn this skill, so do let him know you appreciate it!

Besides cooking and baking for you, Sugar would love to teach you some recipes too! Maybe even some medicines and local delicacies while you're at it! And he’ll be talking about what he knows about it the entire time, inquiring about your preferences and stories as well. He doesn't really have the energy to match his enthusiasm anymore though, so be sure to help him take a break and talk to him so he can sit back and listen. His loss of energy used to bother him immensely, but sitting like this, eating a dish made with a new recipe while listening to you talk about what has happened recently, it might not be that bad at all.

Skulls name plate actually went from ‘unknown pokémon skull, damaged by falling debris', to 'unknown pokémon skull, damaged', to 'unknown damaged skull',  'damaged skull' to finally just  'Skull', and I need you all to know that the kids in that town have a lot of power man. They change history. They pick fates. They tell the museum staff they’re being meanies and everyone's just like “Dang I guess you’re right let’s fix that”. They live in the perfect society tbh. 

[sorugao-bandgeek]

AN: Originally I was gonna write about Reborn, then Colonello and then I thought about Skull and eheh.

The only image I had in my head was someone's hand being a nice necklace :)

Expect spiciness, minors dni.

Pairing: Skull x Reader

Song: Whatever Bad Bunny song was playing

XXX

“You’re so shy,” you whispered, resting your cheek against the inside of his thigh. You looked up to Skull who opened his mouth to say something but only a choked out babe left him, your hands still stroking him. “I know,” you sighed, lifting your head up and moving onto your knees. 

“You have to go soon,” you pouted, wishing that you had a camera to take a picture of his face. 

Skull’s makeup wasn’t usually messy, but now there were tracks of purple running down his face, lipstick smeared around his mouth. His foundation would need to be reapplied, but god you loved making him look like a wreck. 

“Can’t I keep you here a moment longer?” you asked, taking your hands off his dick. You rested them on his shoulders as you pulled yourself up and sat yourself in his lap. His hands immediately went to your thighs, fingers trailing up under your skirt and digging into the plump flesh of your ass. 

“Y-yeah,” he breathed out, “Keep me forever…if you want…”

“Mhmm,” your lips were on his, not at all caring about the lipstick that got on you. You raised your hips up enough for him to position himself, fingers threading through his hair as you slowly lowered yourself onto him, both of you groaning at the feeling. 

Skull felt as if he was seeing stars with the way you moved against him, hands gripping you tighter as he pulled you down on him, “Babe - ah - “

It didn’t take long for him to come, having already been worked up by you before. You felt a sense of pride watching him come undone. You slowed your pace, grinding down on him slowly, loving the way his hips stuttered up against yours. 

“My good boy,” you cooed, resting a hand against his throat, thumb stroking along his jaw. 

A mixture of a laugh and a huff left him. Skull raised his head, letting his chin rest on the back of your hand. He brought you down against him, keeping you there and you bit your lip to keep yourself from making a sound. 

The look in his eye had you wanting to squeeze your legs together, the intensity of it making you feel like your skin was on fire.

“Your turn pretty girl~”

And he picked you up, taking you to the bed nearby, about to pay back the attention you had been giving him.

[bi-writes]

can't stop thinking about dark!simon with a sunshine!curvy!fem!reader, it's gnawing at my brain. (18+)

greeting him when he comes home in a little apron with dough smeared across your cheeks. you're bouncing in the kitchen, giggling as you wrap your arms around his neck. one burly arm hooks around your waist as he palms one side of your ass, and you kiss his lips over his blood-soaked mask again and again as you coo, "missed you so much, made you chocolate chip..."

you talk and talk and talk and talk. you're always talking. you're always whispering in his ear and chattering as he drives and telling him some story about something he missed while he was gone as you tidy up the flat. you never stop talking, never run out of things to tell him, and despite the monotone voice and the lack of response, he hears every single word that you say, and he forgets nothing. when he makes his way back on base, johnny is waiting, eager to hear an update about the receptionist at your work and if she is actually sleeping with your manager.

you wash his clothes without even blinking. you're at the sink, a bucket of cold, suddy water there as you scrub at his shirt. there's peroxide at the side, and you use a delicate hand as you scrub at the stains on it. ghost watches from the doorway as you hum to yourself, in a little pair of shorts with your hair tied up as you rinse the shirt clean. blood runs down the drain, and his shirt is clean as new.

you always find some kind of weapon around the house. you bend down to brush crumbs off the kitchen chairs, and you scold simon with a glossy pout because he left a bloody knife taped under the table. you whine when you find a grenade sitting in the same drawer you keep your tampons in. you complain when you take out the jar of rice to make dinner, and there's a small handgun hidden between the grains. but your face always softens when he cups your cheeks with two big hands, kissing you warmly, muttering, "gotta keep y'safe, luvvie...know there's a bloody line waitin' for a taste of y'r cunny, baby."

you visit him on base once in light wash denim and a white tshirt, sneakers hitting the linoleum and purse swinging as you wave at him. he's standing in front of a line of privates, watching them do jumping jacks, and his eyes light up a little when he sees you waving at him enthusiastically. when he finally makes it to you, he shoves you into the nearest supply closet and tugs your jeans down just enough to fit his cock between your thighs. when he's walking you out, the boys watch as you cling to simon's arm, a lovesick grin on your sweaty face as you flutter your lashes up at him.

he loves when your manicured hands touch him. scratching along his scalp, tracing the edge of his jaw, cupping the bulge in his pants. you're so sweet, the most giggly girl, and he loves tasting the strawberry of your gloss as you make him cum with your hand, cooing against his lips about how strong he is, how much you love him, how you would do anything for him.

he loves it most when you see him for what he really is. when he comes home battered and bruised, bloody clothes sticking to him, a snarl to his voice and the adrenaline of an op still pumping through his veins. he loves that nothing about him scares you. that even like this, you lean up on your toes and kiss him softly, that you get some of the blood and dirt smudges on the pink of your pajama pants, and you don't care, that he strangled a man with these very hands only hours ago, and you still want him to touch you.

he loves that you love him. that when he feeds his cock into you that night, in nothing but your baby pink lingerie, that you barely need any prep at all from how wet you are. thick thighs spreading apart, sticky slick shining on your skin, cunt nice and ready for him because you have missed him that much. he loves that no matter how ugly he feels, you always find him attractive, that no matter how many people he tells you that he killed tonight, all you do is smile and pucker your lips, and tell him, "it's okay, teddy bear, they deserved it, didn't they?" and yeah, they did, cause it is kill or be killed, and there is no universe where ghost does not fight to get back here, to get back to this pretty pussy, to get back to the bed he shares with you so he can watch those pretty tits bounce every time he fucks his cock into you.

ghost loves his pretty girl. all smiles. all soft, so cute, just perfect. ghost casts a shadow over the room, and you just brighten it right back up. ghost tracks blood into the house, and there you are to cover it all up with citrus and soap.

yeah. always just sunshine and smiles at home.

[ozzgin]

POV: They had to improvise a crown on the spot for the human spouse (original was too big).

Quick doodle since I haven’t really provided any part twos to the monster stories yet. Sorry about that. This could be the monstrous older sibling, the Demon King, or one of the monster boyfriends. It’s up to you.

[uhohdad]

Would you ever write anything with a plus size reader? Maybe she’s (or they, can be gn idc!) really insecure but they hide it behind jokes and Konig sees right through it because he does the same

Cut to him always giving them compliments and making sure they stay fed and throwing them over his shoulder like they weigh nothing (usually in front of people cause he likes to embarrass and humiliate reader cause he is still kinda a jerk /affectionate/)

Can be nsfw or whatever you want, I’m not good at plot lol so Idk I just need him to treat me like I’m a teeny lil thing (cause let’s be real he really is a mountain lol)

König x PlusSized!Reader

───♡──────────

He’s getting tired of this nasty habit, liebling.

Everyday before your shower, you’ll stand in the mirror, honing in on that gorgeous, perfect body, digging for any little thing to critique.

“You better be thinking nice thoughts in there, little one.”

You just let out a groan, too far sunk into the spiral of self-hatred to claw yourself back out.

König rises from his spot on the bed a greets you with disapproving, half-lidded eyes in the mirror.

“What is it this time?”

“Tummy. Thighs. Chest.”

“Ach, you mean the best parts?”

You answer with an annoyed hum.

Konig will place his big, sturdy hands on your bare hips from behind, leaning down to plant a soft kiss on your shoulder.

The gentle peck distracts you from the strong arms scooping you up, a squeak leaving you as he sweeps you off your feet in one swift motion, ripping away your view of yourself in the mirror.

“König!”

“What?” He draws, carrying you from the bathroom to the bedroom.

“Put me down!” You say through a giggle, kicking your feet in his restraint.

“Hold on, I just have to get my curls in.”

He holds you horizontally across those strong arms, muscles tensing as he lifts and lowers you while you giggle all the way.

“I’m too heavy for this!”

“Barely a warm-up, liebling.”

He effortlessly tosses you onto the bed with a bounce, crawling over top you before you can even finish your squeal.

He showers kisses all over your bare tummy, his stubble sanding against plush, soft skin. Trailing his slobbering kisses up to your chest, giving your perfect breasts plenty of love. Your thighs would be last, showering you with pecks and even licking slow stripes across the flesh.

“König!”

“What?”

He’ll feign innocence, but that cocky smirk on his face betrays him.

“It’s too bad you can’t see what I see.”

───♡──────────

[tojisun]

simon would definitely get your eyes tatted on him :((

in return, you have a little rendition of his skull mask just on the side of your wrist – it’s a fine line tattoo, one that would certainly fade away overtime.

but it’s yours and you love it and, sometimes, when simon has you on your back, your legs wrapped around his waist and your hands bound above your head, simon bends down and gives the skull a little kiss.

because it’s not just a little tattoo – it’s him marking you.

[quintinh43]

Washing their back/hair in the shower.

oooo i could see luke loving his girlfriend washing his hair and she always does he curl routine for him

Toast my love 🥹 Thank you for requesting

-

The buzzer blared through the speakers of the TV, and you winced. The devils lost 5-4 in a shootout. Luke looked absolutely exhausted in his post game interview. It ticked you off a little that they made him do them so often. It's like they forgot he was a rookie sometimes.

Lukey The Loml: Be at urs in 20

You: Ok, drive safe love. See you in 20 ❤️

You paced around your apartment anxiously while you waited. You heard his footsteps in the hall, and before he even had a chance to stick his key in the lock, you were flinging the door open and holding your arms out to him.

Luke stepped over the threshold of the door, dropped his bag, and collapsed into your arms with a sigh. The height difference has him hunching over awkwardly for him to bury his face against your neck. His arms lock around your waist, and he sighs, melting further into the warmth of your body.

You card your fingers through his curls, fingers catching on all the knots from wearing his helmet for so long. You tug him further into your apartment, kicking the door shut as you go. He doesn't protest when you lead him to the bathroom and detangle him from your embrace to turn on the shower.

"You played so well, my darling boy," you say softly, helping him strip.

He gives you a tired smile, "Thanks, baby."

You make quick work of your own clothing and pull him into the shower. He groans, rolling his shoukders as the hot water hits his back. "Fuck I'm tired," he mutters attempting to run a hand through his hair. His fingers catch on the tangles, and he grunts frustratedly, yanking at his hair.

"Sit down, darling, I got you," you say, tugging his hand from his hair gently, and guiding him to sit on the shower seat, he does so without complaint, closing his eyes and ducking his head under the hot stream of water. He rests his hands on your hips, rubbing gentle circles with the pads of his thumbs.

You pop open the shampoo bottle, squirting some in your palms and lathering it up. The scent of coconut and vanilla melds with the steam, and your fingers delve into his curls once again, massaging at his scalp expertly. He melts against you with a happy sigh, his forehead resting against your torso.

Luke will never get tired of having you wash his hair, and honestly, you'll never get tired of washing it for him. Your fingers move in gentle cirlcles from the top of his head to his temples to the back of his neck. You detach the shower head and rinse the shampoo out of his hair before reaching for the conditioner.

You spread it all over your palms and drag your hands through the ends of his hair, working out all the knots with practiced ease. Luke had never been a post game ritual guy. As long as he had a shower, snack, and got to sleep, he was good. Until you came along, with your whirlwind of hair products and showed him the wonders of having his hair washed by another person.

Now, whenever he had the opportunity, he pulled you into the shower with him and made you wash and style his hair. You scrub him down gently and rinse out the conditioner. If he notices the floral scent of the body wash, rather than whatever the fuck Night panther smells like, he doesn't comment. Although you know he likes your bodywash better.

You hand Luke a towel and wrap one around yourself before padding to the bedroom and grabbing a change of clothes for the pair of you. Sweats and a hoodie for Luke, and one of his sweat shirts and shorts for yourself.

Luke takes the change of clothes from you and plants a kiss on your temples, "Thank you, baby."

As soon as the two of you are clothed, Luke is hoisting you onto the bathroom counter and standing between your legs patiently, his hands rest on your thighs, tracing shapes absent-mindedly. You lock your legs around his hips, ensuring he's as close as possible while you run product through his still wet hair.

Leave in conditioner, scrunch, then gel and scrunch again.

You twirl a couple of wonky looking curls around your finger to make them coil neatly. You twist around to wash the product off your hands and then pull him in for a sweet kiss. Luke kisses you back softly, cupping your face with so much care that it makes your heart gooey in your chest.

You pull away, panting softly as you rest your forehead against his. "Come on, i'll make you a snack and we'll cuddle on the couch and watch a movie. Ok?"

Luke can't resist pressing another kiss to your lips, hoping he can pour all the love he feels into it. "Thanks for making me feel better."

"It's nothing darling, that's what I'm here for," you shrug.

"I love you so much," he murmurs, pressing fluttering kisses to your cheeks, "more than I have words for,"

Your cheeks warm, and you smile shyly.

"I love you too, my darling, with my whole heart."

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Leader of the Pack 1

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as dubcon/noncon, and other possible triggers. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: On a night out at the bar, you're promoted from wing woman to main star.

Characters: James Conrad, short!reader

Note: it’s hump dayyyy.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me <3

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Asking for more or putting ‘part 2?’ is not feedback.

Love you all. You are appreciated and your are worthy. Treat yourself with care. 💖

"Go grab us a pool table," Martyna demands as she leans on the bar. 

"Oh, sure," you turn to search the bar. There's only one table and it's taken. You frown. "Someone's already on it." 

"So what? Go put a stack of quarters on it," she says, "I can't. I gotta get my drink." 

"Right, er," you teeter on your feet and look back at the table, one man lining up his shot as the other watches, his thick hands around his cue.  

The shooter snaps the stick and the clack of balls is sharp and strong. You near nervously, pulling out change as you keep just outside their perimeter as the second man considers his turn with a suck of his teeth. Where he's burly, with a shaggy dark beard, and faded ball cap, the other man has blonde hair and is lithe. They are both tall, though the slimmer man has at least an inch on the other. 

You step forward as the man aims from the other corner. You set down four quarters in a stack, just enough to feed the table for another round. The thicker man pauses as he pulls back the cue and narrows his eyes. 

"Eh, you're gonna mess me up," he barks. 

"Oh, sorry," you recoil and fold your hands over your chest, "I was only..." 

You quiet as he grumbles and shakes his head, eyes pinpointing on the felt. You shake your head and back up as the other man tisks. 

"Syverson, don't have to be so rude, the lady is merely claiming her turn," the slender man intones, just a foot from you as he twirls the cue, it's butt set to the floor. "Don't fret over my companion," he girds in his peculiar accent, "he's a sore loser." 

"Heh, what's that about..." the other man hits the cue ball and sends a striped one into the pocket, "losing?" 

You're quiet, nodding as you try to think of the proper response. No one's ever called you a lady. Most people don't notice you. It's why Martyna prefers you as her wing woman, you keep her company until she finds someone fun. 

"Rather, you set me up finely," the first man retorts. 

You cross your arms protectively and back up, making sure you're out of the broader man as he stalks around to place his next shot. His friend watches calmly, unbothered as he knocks another ball in, then lines up for the third. That one's a miss. 

"Shit," the man in the ball cap stands straight and sends you a look. You're not even close to the trim. 

"Oh, don't even try to blame her," the blond reprimands, "that's not very valiant, is it?" 

"Whatever," the other grumbles as he plants his feet and watches the other. 

The slimmer man puts his first shot easily in the corner, the next he sends two balls into opposite pockets, and the next sees him with only the eight ball left to sink. His opponent huffs and shakes his head. You rock back and forth, you hope he wins if only to clear the table. 

"Finally," Martyna nudges you as she comes up beside you, "they didn't have Corona, you believe that?" 

"Oh, that's crummy," you say, watching the mam measure his shot. 

"Mmph, I know you don't give a crap," she scoffs, "why didn't you grab a ginger ale?" 

"I'm fine, just had that iced coffee," you shrug. 

She hums again. She knows you don't drink, that this isn't your scene, that you're not exactly a social butterfly, so why does she act so disappointed. She invited you. It's always her idea, never yours. You just go along, otherwise you'd have nothing to do and no friends.  

"Kinda cute," she leans over to whisper, "look at his shoulders..." 

You lower your brow as your cheeks burn. You hadn't really thought of that. Then, you wonder, which one she's talking about. They both have nice shoulders and muscular arms. 

They're strangers! You shouldn't think of that. You uncross your arms and once more clasp your hands together. 

The man finally shoots, calling left pocket. He calls it true. The ball rolls in and his buddy sighs and swears. 

"Nice," Martyna pops her lips off her bottle of flavoured vodka, "our turn." 

She steps and grabs the quarters. The bearded man tilts his head at her and fixes his camouflage cap. His cheek dimples as the other man rounds the table and pats his shoulder, "better luck next time, chap." 

"Isn't luck," the burly one utters and rolls his eyes, "hustler..." 

"And yet you keep falling for it," the other snickers, "come on, I'll buy you a celebratory pint, eh?" The blond turns and strides toward you. "Miss, you're up." 

He offers the cue and your lashes flick. You couldn't see his eyes before. They're so blue. You gulp and accept the wooden stick. 

"Thank you," you squeak. 

Martyna chuckles and grabs the triangle frame from the slot and sets it out. The blond leads away his second, the man with the beard sending a glance at Martyna as she loads the quarters to release the balls. You wait for her to set up, standing back with the cue in hand. You can still feel the warmth of its previous holder's grip. 

Martyna swigs from her bottle and sets it back on the trim. She fluffs her black curls and makes a pouty face. She's not doing that for you. 

You glance behind her, those men are watching. The blond nods cordially and returns his attention to the bar. The beard one continues to leer in Martyna's direction. You spin back. 

"You wanna break?" You ask. 

"Sure, whatevs," she turns to the table. 

You wait patiently as she scatters the balls. She sinks two solids. She's always been better at this than you. You don't mind losing. It doesn't make much of a difference. 

She sinks two more before your turn comes. You regret not grabbing a soda as you mouth grows dry. Martyna is sure to loudly tell you about this guy she works with and how much he wants her. You just humour her with smiles and mhmms. It isn't you she wants to hear her. You know her tricks. 

You sink a stripe, then a solid. Back to Martyna. You aren't very good at the game. Your arm's are too short. Maybe if you could get on the table you'd have a chance but that's not proper. 

She narrows the solids down to two plus the eight ball. You try your hand again. Scratch. But she misses her shot and you get another go. You sink two before you're done. Still, you're behind. 

She empties her bottle, a dramatic gulp that extends her whole body. She outshines you in all aspects; her hair, her looks, her height, her clothes... 

She wiggles her but as she bends to clean up. One ball, then two, then she lines up for the final blow. The eight. She calls the corner. She bounces it easily into the pocket and squees and hops, her shirt doing little to contain her amped up excitement. 

You lean the cue against your arm and give a clap, "good job, Mart," you say. Genuinely. It was fun enough.  

"Aw, you did good," she preens, "how about a rematch? Got any more change?" 

"Ahem," a voice interrupts as you grab your purse. The jangle of change comes from behind you and a shadow steps forward, "perhaps you might want to make it interesting? Fancy a round of pairs?" 

You glance over at the man with blond hair and lilted accent. Well, you look at his sleeve and follow it up. His profile is well-forged. If you had a type, he might be it. You never considered many men, they never considered you either. 

"Pairs?" Martyna toys with proposal coyly and eyes the bearded man as he comes up beside his friend, "I guess it makes sense. But girls vs boys?" 

"No fun," the blond agrees, "we might mix it up, eh?" He grins, "James," he touches his chest, "this is--" 

"Sy," the other man, who you called Syverson, speaks up, "ladies." 

"Martyna," your friend rolls out. 

You offer your name in a pitchy stammer. You already feel like the odd one out. The tension is thick enough to choke you. 

"Sy, fetch us some cues," James demands, "I'll claim a partner," he looks over at you, "do you mind?" 

"Oh, er, yeah, but um, I'm not very good," you say, certain he must have been able to see as much from across the room. 

"I'm certain we'll work fabulously together," he assures. 

"Here," Sy returns with two sticks, nearly jabbing the James with the spare.  

You cling to your cue and fidget. You have no idea what to do now. Someone has to begin. 

"I'll break," Sy insists. 

"Of course, loser's first," James quips. 

He gets an arch of the thick brow in return before Sy bends to aim between two fingers. You dig your nail into the wood of the cue in your hand. James sidles closer, crowding you as you catch a hint of something citrus. 

Sy bends and pulls back the cue. He hits the ball and sends it zooming fast enough to crack the triangle on the other end. The stripes and solids scatter, bouncing all around. James chuckles and leans towards you. 

“You’ll see he’s about strength, he doesn’t realise the significance of precision,” he intones, “I can show you. It isn’t about how hard you hit but the exact angle,” he tilts his hand to demonstrate as the balls still but non fall into the pockets. “Ladies first.” 

You don’t move right away. At first, you don’t get his meaning. You lift the cue and approach the table. You look around. It’s your choice; stripes or solids. Whatever you can get, as usual. 

That number four is hovering right at the side pocket. It’s an easy score. You’ll take it. 

You position yourself, overly aware of your audience. It feels like the whole bare is watching. You blow out your breath and set your sights. You pull back and snap forward. The cue ball wobbles in its path but hits true, knocking the four into the hole. 

It isn’t exactly precise. You stand straight and let out and oomph as your back meets an unexpected wall. James brings his arms up and puts his hands around yours. His proximity is suffocating. 

“You’ve got an easy in on the five,” he advises, guiding you to bend with him as he directs your stick. “Loose,” he wiggles your front hand and squeezes your back hand. “Keep it like this, not too high.” 

He holds you like that for a moment then draws back. He steps to the side and crosses his arms. You focus on the ball, your skin speckling with heat. His scent lingers, perhaps a touch of orange in his cologne. You keep your hold loose and grip tight the butt of the cue. You shoot and the white ball clacks off the red solid, sending it neatly into the corner. 

Martyna giggles and you look up. She’s not laughing at you. Sy is muttering something to her. You blink and stands straight, glancing over at James. You understand what this is but you’re the placeholder, the wing woman, you just keep the friend busy while she has her fun. You know how this ends. 

“You’ve got another go,” James says. 

You nod dumbly and face the table again. You search for your best hope and shift around to the other side. You nearly cross your eyes in your efforts to bounce the ball from one wall into the opposite pocket. You just miss. You cringe and back away. 

Your gaze meets James’ as you find him watching you still. Martyna moves to line up her shot, giggling over her shoulder as she does. As you edge away from her, that man’s eyes follow you. They’re so blue. So, intense. 

You look at the tip of the cue and tap your thumb to the side. You’re in your head. He’s not really staring. When you peek up again, he hasn’t looked away. Not even as you hear the balls hit. He winks and your chest pounds in disbelief.

This can’t be real. 

[frickingnerd]

hold me close & stay like this

pairing: ryuji sakamoto x gn!reader

summary: ryuji's heart breaks, seeing you all bruised up and yet unwilling to tell him what happened...

"who did this to you…?"

"ryuji, don't…"

"who fucking did this to you!?"

you were covered in bruises, as ryuji gently held you in his arms. he didn't dare squeeze you too tight, not wanting to hurt you again. you were already hurt badly and he couldn't live with himself if he made this situation – if he made this pain – any worse! 

"it doesn't matter, please…"

you knew your boyfriend wouldn't rest until he had revenged you. he was stupid enough to get himself beat up by someone much stronger than himself, just for your sake. and you really wanted to avoid that…

"of course it fucking matters! nobody touches you without having to deal with me! i swear, i'll make them regret ever laying a finger on you…"

ryuji clenched his fist, getting lost in his anger. not just anger directed towards the person that had hurt you, but also towards himself, for not being there to protect you…

"please, ryuji…"

the one thing that snapped him out of his thoughts was your gentle touch as you cupped his cheeks and made your boyfriend look at you. at your eyes filled with tears, that were about to spill over any moment. 

"if you really want to help me, then just… be there for me. i don't want you to defend me, i just… want you to hold me close…" 

ryuji paused for a moment, before he pulled you into his arms again, holding you close as the two of you quietly cried, both hoping the other one wouldn't hear it…

[the-pixelated-pirate]

General relationship hcs for Goro Majima and/or Guzma ?? :) could be either one or both in seperate posts, I don't mind ^^

(Also, maybe a mix of sfw & nsfw ? If possible <3)

Decided to choose Guzma for this post, be on the look out for Majima's post on my acct! (Posting at the same time)

Romantic Guzma HCs ♡

NOTES/WARNINGS: NSFW under the cut, gender neutral reader w AFAB anatomy,

REQUEST STATUS: Open!

REQUESTS LEFT: 2!

• Despite his tough guy attitude, Guzma is secretly a big ole softie. He doesn't like anyone except you seeing that side of him. He's a sucker for bear hugs, and suffocation in his chest + broken ribs can be a possibility w him

• Secret romantic at heart, but his sense of romanticism is a little different from the norm

•

• Loooves back massages. He may complain if you ask for one, but he'll do it for you ofc. Everytime you touch his back it sounds like bang-snaps

• Post game(s) he takes up gardening, Plumeria said it would help with his anger issues. She was kind of right? The flowers bring bug types to his house so he isn't complaining

• Speaking of, while Whimpod/Golisopod is his buddy, he's got a soft spot for Grubin and Cutiefly. His first experience with Snom was almost biblical

• Suffers from insomnia, lots of late nights, lots of warm milk. He'd really appreciate it if you decided to stay up with him, even if he acts otherwise <3 he wants you to get your full 8 hours

• Very rarely talks about his feelings, but when he does it's a sure fire sign that he trusts you completely. He works better as a shoulder to lean on, tbh. He isn't good with his words, but he's a good ear to vent to. He'll suggest if you wanna go out and throw rocks at old buildings or something

• Prefers sweet malasadas

• Totaaalll family man. The grunts and Plumeria are all like family to him, and he does his best to take care of them (plus you). He loves kids, always has candy in his pockets, and really just acts like the fun uncle. If a child asks he WILL throw hands with them. Wether or not he'll take it easy on them is another question

NSFW

• Speaking of kids 👀👀

• Yes he'll definitely prefer to have a few. Or if you're unable to have kids or just plain don't want them, he understands. He plain just enjoys the motions of it.

• High-key a switch, and loves to bottom. But he's sooo fucking bratty, and the biggest pillow prince

• Praise, giving or receiving. He laps that stuff up, and when he's spitting praises there's a lot of cursing thrown in there.

• He can top too... he can be a mix of a mean dom or a soft one, depends on his mood.

• He loves soft sex, though. Getting to curl up around you, hold you close, whispering about how hot you are.... ♡

• Very vocal, on top or bottom. Like I mentioned, very bratty when he's got his legs in the air, but when it's you his plowing into, he's swearing like a sailor, buttering you up talking about how much he just loooves you

• Craazy head game, loves giving.

• Pain play is a toss up, he isn't too hardcore, but he'll slap you or throw you around. Like I'll give it to my man he is a little kinky but he prefers to keep the pain out of it, for the most part.

• Lovess being on the receiving end of aftercare, not the best at giving it. He'd prefer for you to just snuggle up into his arm so you can both fall asleep. Sex really helps him conk out so he enjoys finishing every night with a little woo-hoo >:3

• Fuck it. I'm throwing away my morals. He's packing. I know it. Big dick energy. You see him slouching? You know why

[annievrse]

me or 100k?

dazai x fem!reader —ᡣ𐭩 blurb

"would you rather kiss me for $100,000 or the prettiest girl in the world for $1m?" you ask your boyfriend, phone in front of your face.

dazai hums. "i'll take the $1m."

you don't realise your face drops at his response until he sits up from his place on the couch.

"what? i get to kiss you too, so i don't see the problem."

raising your eyebrows, you smile at him. "you think i'm pretty?"

"pfft," dazai laughs, reaching forward to grasp your hands. "of course, i think you're pretty. i think you're prettier than pretty."

you shove your face in your hands to avoid his eyes, but you can't help the thundering beat of your heart in your chest.

"c'mere," dazai giggles, pulling you toward him. you land with your face on his shoulder and laugh, peering up at him.

"i would kiss the prettiest boy in the world for $1m, too."

the only indication that dazai heard you was the immediate bloom of red on his cheeks. "we're not talking about me."

"yes, we are," you nod, pressing your lips to his neck. "you're prettier than pretty."

dazai scoffs, but it's a weak attempt at diverting your attention. "we gotta get to work."

you gasp, lips upturned. "osamu dazai insisting we go to the agency? who are you?"

"shut up," he whispers, dragging you to stand from the couch.

once dazai locks the front door, you turn to him. "i can't wait to let everyone know my boyfriend is the prettiest in the whole world."

"do that, and i'll tell ranpo what you did to his candy stash."

[sorugao-bandgeek]

AN: I thought of Skull the other day when I was covered in grease and it wasn't coming out with the soap we use at work. Also I giggle every time I use the soap because its called Gojo and I think "yoaimo" every time.

Pairing: Skull x Reader

XXX

You clasped your hands together in front of your face, your pointer fingers resting up against your nose. You took a seat in the armchair as you stared at the sheepish man before you, who was waiting for you to say something. 

“What the fuck?” you said after a minute of stunned silence.

“The up fuck,” he responded, laughing nervously now as your expression didn’t even change. “Uh, please don’t kick me out.”

“That’s not,” you paused, sighing as you brought your hands down. “Skull, the garage exists for a reason -” 

“I know, but the heater broke -” 

“You could have just waited -”

“I know, but -” 

The way your eyes narrowed at him had him closing his mouth. You stayed quiet and he took that as his chance to try and explain himself again, “It was an emergency.” 

“My carpet is stained with motor oil, Skull.” 

He knelt down before you, grasping your hands off your lap. His thumb rubbed over your knuckles, a habit from all the years of knowing you that he could never get to go away, “I can fix that.” 

Your face fell and you leaned forward, resting your forehead against his shoulder, “It shouldn’t have had to happen.” 

Okay so he hadn’t exactly thought through finishing up rebuilding the motor in the living room. But the heater had gone out in the garage and it was cold as balls outside and he was just so close to being done. 

He couldn’t help it. 

“I won’t ever do it again,” he promised, tilting his head to the side so that it slightly rested against yours. “I swear on all that is holy and Oodako.” 

“Just…take it out, I’ll call someone to get that heater looked at,” you murmured and he nodded, leaning forward to rest his weight in your lap so that you wouldn’t get up yet.

“A kith?” he said, pursing his lips and batting his eyes hopefully at you. 

You rolled your eyes, leaning forward to press your lips against his. He hummed, letting you up and standing up alongside you. 

“I’ll get that cleaned,” he said, wrapping an arm around your shoulders and pressing a kiss against the top of his head. “No more worries.” 

“Mhmm, your only worry is if it doesn’t come out Skull.” 

“I have one worry.”

You laughed, not at all bothered that he didn’t let you go.