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#The more I like seeing Mari with pink hair
mofuubuns · 14 days
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whitney's girl on the beach? 🥺
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WODJSKALA OMG???? THEY LOOK SO CUTE AND PRETTY😭😭😭🫶🫶🩷💖💗💕♥️🩷💖 I LOVE THE SWIM SUITS TOO, IT MATCHES THEM SO WELL🥺🥺🥺 ALSO YOUR PC IS ADORABLE I LOVE HER SM!!!
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They're having a nice day at the beach! Thank you so much for drawing my girl!🥺🙏🤲💗💕♥️
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andypantsx3 · 11 months
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all in a day's quirk | sero hanta
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pairing: Sero Hanta / Fem Reader
length: 5.3k
summary: Sero gets hit with a quirk that makes others see him as the person they are most attracted to. Which you really wish you had known before you opened your mouth and gave him your usual, “Hey, Sero!”
tags/warnings: pro hero au, fluff, misunderstandings, quirk accident, not actually unrequited feelings, smut, thigh riding, fem reader (no pronouns but AFAB genitalia terms used), aged up characters
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It was approximately four thirty-three p.m. when Sero Hanta returned from patrol and blew your peaceful day to bits.
Before his arrival, the Todoroki Agency had been relatively quiet, as it usually was around this time, everyone but the on-call staff winding down for the day. You’d been hearing the telltale rustling of jackets and scuffle of feet in the office behind you since the clock ticked past four.
Not long after, a couple of your friends from the analytics department had wandered over to your desk, clearly deciding they were not going to get anything else done, gossiping and stealing the candies you kept in a glass bowl on the reception counter.
“I heard Shouto’s manager is considering signing him up for a shirtless charity calendar,” Mari told you immediately, wiggling her eyebrows. “Hana from brand management said she was asked to do research on the impact the calendar had on other pros’ careers, so I think this is serious.”
She looked beyond pleased, her cheeks pink and her ears tipped red, the way they always were when she contemplated her massive crush on your agency head, Todoroki Shouto.
You couldn’t fault her–Shouto was incredibly handsome and kind, if a bit spacey–but you’d always been drawn to a different pro hero on the agency roster. Someone just a little bit taller, with dark hair and a half-moon grin, a razor sharp sense of humor, and the most inconceivably mouth-watering thighs in the pro hero business.
Not that you had been giving them attention. Much.
You suppressed the urge to ask if anyone else from the agency was being considered for the calendar, wiggling your eyebrows back. “Well I know you’ll be the first in line.”
Mari’s blush deepened, and Kimiko laughed around an orange-flavored candy, which you stocked for many reasons other than a certain tape-themed hero’s predilection for oranges, thank you very much.
“I just hope they include Uravity-san,” Kimiko said. “I mean–not shirtless shirtless, but like, god would I kill for her in a little sports bra.”
Kimiko sounded unaffected, but you’d literally hidden her beneath your desk the time pro heroes Uravity and Deku visited for an agency team-up with the Todoroki office. She’d spent the entire time peering out with big eyes, muttering under her breath, “I am so gay. So very very gay.”
You didn’t doubt if Uravity were included in the spread, Kimiko might even beat Mari out for the first spot in line.
“You both have such kind hearts,” you laughed. “So eager to give to charity.”
“I’m a lifelong philanthropist,” Mari agreed, picking up your pen and doodling hearts all over your office stationery. You noticed she colored in only the left side, and suppressed another laugh.
Whatever. You knew what it was to be that whipped, even if you’d never do anything about it.
As huge as your thing was for Sero, there wasn’t a chance in hell he returned your affections. He was incredibly friendly, but over the past few years, he’d never even given a hint that he was into you like that. He’d treated you with the same easy cheer and subjected you to the same good-natured roasting he did everyone else in the agency.
And now was not the time to go looking for more, anyway. You’d recently become close enough to see Sero outside of work and you were not about to endanger that–you’d been invited to a house party of his a couple months ago, gone to drinks with him and a couple of agency people after work, and even grabbed dinner alone a few times over the past few weeks. You’d been texting memes practically nonstop this entire week alone.
He was so much fun, always quick with a joke, a wink, or an interesting story, and he wasn’t afraid to tell things like they were. You forgot time was passing when you were with him, and sometimes when you went out, you stayed out long enough that you thought he might, too.
So you were finally reaching a stage in your friendship where Sero clearly felt close and comfortable—you would not press for more.
It was just, sometimes, when he smiled down at you with that clever, mischievous grin, your heart felt like it was experiencing some sort of medical event. Sometimes, when he put his dark hair up into a messy half-bun, those biceps cording as he did so, it felt like someone had just vacuumed all the oxygen straight out of your lungs. Sometimes, when he leaned down to whisper something to you in his most conspiratorial tones, it felt like someone had spiked your brain into a blender and pureed it into mush.
But it was cool.
You knew how to play it cool.
Mari pulled you back to earth with the promise of more gossip—this time, about her arch nemesis in accounting—and Kimiko leaned in, offering her own commentary over the unwrapping of another of your candies.
And then the clock struck four thirty-three, and Sero Hanta returned from patrol.
You heard the telltale mechanic ping of an agency badge passing checkpoint, and peeked around Kimiko to see Sero trudging through the doorway, looking strangely contemplative. He was covered in dirt and his uniform was slashed in several places, including a great deal of shredding about the thighs, which you would have been happier about if he didn’t look so unusually subdued.
He didn’t look hurt at any rate, so that was good. But you couldn’t help but call out to him.
“Hey Sero!” you said, curious about his demeanor. “How’d patrol go? Something happen?”
Kimiko and Mari turned around, and you watched as both of them seemed to freeze up. Kimiko’s hand slapped against the reception counter, the sound echoing through the room, gripping tightly as though she’d suddenly seen a ghost.
“Ur–Uravity-san,” she said, dipping into the most formal bow you’d ever seen her make. “What’s brought you here?”
You felt your mouth pull into a frown, staring at the back of her head in absolute bamboozlement. Was she seeing things? The only person in the doorway was Sero, and he was very much unaccompanied.
His helmet was propped between his hip and his elbow, so his face was clear too–so Kimiko didn’t even have the excuse of not being able to see his face, different though his costume was from Uravity’s.
Sero blinked, his mouth pulling into a semi-puzzled grin. “Uravity?”
Mari was slapping Kimiko before you could inquire the same thing, hissing, “Are you losing it? That’s fucking Shouto.” She turned back to pin you with something between a glare and a concerned, assessing gaze, as if you too had lost your marbles.
You frowned back, your own concern deepening. “I’m sorry–are you guys seriously telling me that Shouto and Uravity are here with Sero?” You peered back around Mari at Sero, quirking a brow at him. “Did they get hit with some kind of invisibility quirk or are these two experiencing some kind of hallucination?”
Maybe too much shirtless calendar talk had gotten them too hot and bothered.
Sero’s dark gaze pinned you, and he quickly came tromping over, his boots echoing on the stone flooring. He leaned over the reception counter, pointing to his face with one long, pretty finger. “Wait, you can tell it’s me?”
He smelled like cement and sweat and dust, and something vaguely minty, like he’d been chewing gum recently. You tried not to let your expression show how much you liked the look of him up close, those hooded dark eyes, his wide, charming mouth.
“Um, yes? I have eyeballs?” you wondered.
Sero blinked, leaning in closer. Your heartbeat ticked up. “You’re sure?”
“Should I not be…sure?” you asked. “Are Shouto and Uravity really with you and I’m the only one who can’t see them?”
Sero shook his head, “Nah–it’s just me.”
You frowned up at him, curious. “Then why are they calling you Shouto and Uravity…?”
Sero shook his dark head. His hair was pulled into that half-bun you loved, the way it usually was under his helmet on patrol, and all mussed from whatever run in he’d had. You tried not to think about what other activities might get his hair all mussed like that.
He smiled, something wide and conspiratorial. “Got hit with some kinda illusion quirk. People have stopped me like a thousand times on my way in to ask for All Might’s autograph, or Hawks’, and even Bakugou’s. They’re lucky it was just me, he’d have thrown a shit fit getting cut off in the street like that.”
Sero’s features shifted into something slightly more contemplative again. “But you’re somehow immune, huh?”
You frowned. “Shouldn’t you get checked out at medical, then?”
His eyes softened, and another grin made its way onto his mouth. “Yeah yeah, I’ll head right there.”
Kimiko and Mari were still gaping over at him like he was a miracle, and some strange feeling came over you, a concerned little squeeze of your heart. You grabbed Mari, plonking her down into your seat in your stead. “Cover me for a couple minutes? Just say people are unavailable and take notes and I’ll figure it out when I get back. I’m gonna run down to medical with Sero for a second.”
Mari nodded dumbly.
You pulled Sero’s helmet out of his grip, resting it in the crook of your own elbow, and gestured him down the hall with you. Sero fell into step beside you, keeping up easily with his long stride. He grinned down at you, seemingly unperturbed that he’d gotten hit with a quirk that had all but erased his identity in the eyes of others.
It was something you admired in him, his inherent good-naturedness.
You wondered why you were the only one who could tell it was him.
“Any good gossip while I was gone?” he asked, like he really couldn’t be fussed about his predicament. “I was starting to hear shirtless calendar talk before I had to head out on patrol.”
You suppressed a flush and fought down the urge to ask if he’d been asked to be in it too.
You did not need to know.
“Whatever the hell is going on with you is the spiciest bit of gossip all day,” you told him, rounding a corner and badging into the stairwell down to the medical floor. You clung to the railing carefully and most definitely did not watch his thighs bunch as he took the stairs. “Want a drink after work? It seems like you could use one, after this.”
Sero smiled, an eyebrow raising. “Trying to get me drunk, huh?”
You wrinkled your nose. “As if I’d need to be so underhanded.”
You did. You did need to be so underhanded.
Sero had to angle himself carefully through the door, his shoulder pieces liable to snag on the doorway with the breadth of those pro hero shoulders. The medic on staff took one look at him and flushed, mumbling out a name you didn’t know.
You piped in before she could say more. “Cellophane’s been hit with a quirk that makes him appear like someone else. It’s not whoever you think!”
She blinked curiously, but then nodded, probably having seen much weirder things in her time as a hero agency staffer. She gestured Sero to a cot on the side of the room. “Alright, please sit down, Cellophane. We’ll do a couple quick tests and then get you sorted with the right quirk cancellation.” Her cheeks seemed to heat again as she spoke, but she made good on her promise, disappearing down the hall, calling to someone for quirk testing strips.
Sero hopped up on the cot, swinging those long legs, grinning at you from eye-level, now. “Think I should prank a couple people before they cancel it?”
You rolled your eyes. “Only you would be having fun with this. No one in the world knows who you are!”
The corner of Sero’s mouth pulled wryly. “You do.”
“You don’t know if that could change, dude. Better get it over with before you get stuck as like, Endeavor forever.”
Sero laughed, light and airy. “Shouto wouldn’t hang with me anymore.”
You nodded. “Exactly, and none of the rest of us read the same weird manga you guys are into so you’d be all alone with no one to fanboy about it to.”
The medic returned with a thick silvery strip, pulling on blue nitrile gloves as she did so. Sero held his arm out obligingly, the lean muscle flexing in the fluorescence of the office lighting. She peeled off the backing of the strip, pressing it to Sero’s forearm, pushing it down firmly.
She attached a cable to some screened device, and you listened to the beep of various buttons. Sero watched you over her shoulder, his easy smile still in place.
Finally, the device in the medic’s hand beeped, and she pulled back, announcing somewhat shyly, “An attraction-type quirk.”
You blinked, mystified. A what?
Sero’s grin seemed to freeze on his face, and his thin brows furrowed the tiniest bit.
The medic continued, oblivious. “This quirk creates an illusion. External parties will perceive the affectee with the traits or as the person they are most attracted to.”
Sero’s dark eyes snapped to yours, widening, and you fumbled a step back, almost tripping over yourself. You threw out a hand, barely catching yourself on the counter.
No.
Oh fuck no.
If people were seeing who they were most attracted to…and you had just seen Sero the whole time…
That would mean—that would mean—and he had heard you say—
“Oh my god, I just remembered I have to get back to Mari,” you said, offering Sero a wave of your suddenly numb hand. “Can’t, um, strand her at the desk for too long. I’ll leave you guys to it. Uh, yeah. Thanks–bye!”
You quickly threw yourself out through the door, leaving Sero alone with the medic. You dashed back up the stairwell, your heartbeat shooting into your mouth.
How could this be happening? How unbelievably embarrassing was that? You’d worked so hard to play it cool in front of Sero for all this time, for years, really, and you’d finally just made it to a comfortable place as friends.
And then—and then—some attraction-illusion quirk goes and blows your cover, just like that? For real?
And he’d heard you, too. Heard you say, “Hey, Sero!” as soon as he’d come through the door, before anyone had revealed anything about who else they thought he might be instead. Before you could have possibly had any clue that he’d been quirked.
You could die of mortification.
You shooed Mari and Kimiko away from the desk when you got back, quickly readying your things to get the hell out of the office as soon as your night replacement arrived. You cleaned up all the bi-colored hearts Mari had doodled on every available surface of your desk and refilled the candy bowl Kimiko had apparently seen fit to devastate in your absence, your ears heating with the thought that Sero could catch on now, why you stocked orange candies.
God, could your replacement hurry the fuck up before Sero got back here?
But the night receptionist was predictably late, of course, and by the time you finally saw him badge through the front entrance you could hear quick, booted steps across the tile behind you.
Sero’s voice sounded over the back of your chair, just as a long-fingered hand closed around your wrist.
“Y/N,” he said, his voice more careful than you’d ever heard it. “Still up for that drink? I think maybe we could talk over it.”
The night receptionist nodded at you and Sero as he made his way over, and you gave up your chair to him, collecting your bag with Sero’s warm fingers still clutching your wrist. You slowly worked up the courage to look up at him, face heating as you took in his uncharacteristically intent expression. His face had been cleaned and it looked like some antibiotic had been applied to some of the scrapes along his jaw.
You knew then you’d trapped yourself. Though it was probably also better to get things over with now than avoid the subject forever.
“Okay,” you said, trying to keep your voice normal. “Yeah, let’s talk.”
Sero was the nicest dude ever, you had to remember that. Even when it came down to a rejection, he would still be completely kind and friendly. Probably not too much would change on his end afterwards either. You couldn’t imagine him avoiding you or treating you any differently.
“My place okay?” Sero asked as you shrugged on your bag.
You nodded, and he smiled, nearly as wide and silly as he normally did, tinged with only the slightest bit of shyness.
You’d originally planned to take him out somewhere fun, but this conversation was probably best had in private. And Sero’s place was close, an apartment only a couple blocks’ walk, in a charming little neighborhood fringed by a park and a variety of interesting bars and cafes. Sero chatted away with his usual friendly ease as you walked, still in his shredded hero costume, waving to the couple people that recognized him as you did so.
Your stomach flipped as he opened his front door, gesturing you inside under his arm. He was tall and lanky enough that you fit easily, and you caught a whiff of that minty scent again under all the dust that coated his uniform. You tried not to look too closely at the lines of his bicep as you passed under it.
His apartment was just as you’d remembered it; spacious, casually decorated in neutral tones with splashes of interesting patterns spread across the rug, throw pillows, and his collection of wall hangings. It smelled cottony and clean, and Sero gestured you to his couch as he dumped his helmet and boots in the doorway, shrugging off his shoulder pieces.
“A beer cool?” he asked as he made his way into the kitchen. “I’ve got a couple of good ones.”
“Sounds great,” you told him, listening to the sounds of him cracking the caps.
To your surprise he plopped down on the couch next to you as he came back in, handing you a bottle. It was cold, and your fingers made little prints in the condensation where you touched it.
“So,” he said, turning to you, a sly look in his dark eyes. “You wanna talk about what just happened?”
Your face flamed, and you took a quick sip of your beer to give you time to recover yourself. It was sour on your tongue, a hint of orange peel in its profile.
“No,” you told him honestly, giving him a self-conscious smile, which he returned. “I think it’s pretty clear, actually. You got hit by a quirk that shows people the person they’re most attracted to and I, uh, obviously saw, um, you.”
Sero’s grin pulled wider at the edges, surprising you. If you didn’t know better, you would think he liked hearing that. Although maybe it was a little bit of an ego stroke to hear you were someone’s fantasy man, even if you didn’t return their feelings.
“Not All Might and not Bakugou,” he said, something pleased in his tone.
You blinked at him, disturbed by those insinuations. “Definitely not,” you sniffed. “I am a paragon of taste.”
Sero laughed, his fingers flexing on the side of his beer. Then he took a sip, seeming to contemplate something as he did, and you drew yourself together, preparing for the inevitable. That was definitely a look that said he was thinking hard, probably about the best way to let you down.
But then Sero grinned back down at you, leaning in collusively. “You wanna know something?”
You could feel your brows raise curiously, even as your heartbeat picked up with his proximity. You looked down, then accidentally spied the strips of tanned thigh where his costume had torn, and had to quickly reroute your gaze for fear of staring. “That depends.”
Sero’s grin went even more sly. “I think if you’d been hit with that quirk, I’d have known it was you too.”
Your heartbeat slammed to a halt in your chest. It was only when Sero threw a hand out that you realized you’d lost your grip on your beer, his quick reflexes the only thing saving his carpet. You startled at the sudden move, making a weird arm-flinging motion somewhere between grabbing for your beer and grabbing onto him, ending up accidentally smacking him in the chest instead.
“Fuck, I—sorry!” you garbled out, stunned by his sudden proximity and the fistful of his costume you’d taken. His skin was warm against the side of your hand.
Sero blinked, looking taken aback for a moment. Then he shifted, and you heard the clink of two beers being deposited on his coffee table. You swallowed, unable to look away from him, and you watched his dark eyes rove over your face, before dipping down to stare at something just under your nose.
A shiver prickled up your spine.
“So when you—with the quirk—” you tried, but your brain had gone offline, and the right set of words were not coming to you. “Um, when you say—you would have known—?”
Sero’s grin crept back across his mouth. “I mean that I’d have seen you, because I’ve been wanting to ask you out and trying to figure out if you're into me for months.”
It had to be the shock of this admission that registered you so stupid. “You—months? Try years.”
Sero’s laugh beat back the instant wave of mortification that overcame you in the next second, when you realized what'd you'd just said. You could only smile back helplessly, equally pleased and embarrassed. He looked so good right then, too, grinning toothily, his hair a mess, his costume torn to shreds. He really was the most gorgeous guy you had ever seen, that quirk had totally had your number.
It suddenly dawned on you that you had little else to lose now, with everything out in the open. And when Sero looked like that—sly, pleased, and a little bit of a mess—you thought you were done trying to bury things.
A thrill zinging down your spine, you leaned in and pressed your mouth to his.
He’d been laughing, and you only caught the edge of his mouth, but Sero quickly corrected. You could feel his lips go slack in surprise for a second, and then he was schooling himself and returning your kiss with abandon.
Long fingers came up to take your chin, holding you firmly in place. It was so unexpectedly bold that you shuddered, kissing him harder. Your hand tangled further in the fabric of his costume, gripping onto him for dear life as his tongue met yours, twisting and teasing. It was so like him, the way he kissed. Teasing, playful, easy. Your head spun with how much you liked it.
“Aw fuck, I’ve been wanting to do that for a while,” Sero said, when he finally pulled away far enough to enunciate the words. He shifted against you, putting a large palm against your back, pulling you to him. You followed his guidance, climbing into his lap, chasing his mouth again. You wanted more—more now that you thought you could have it.
“I’ve been wanting—for years—” you said, squeaking in surprise when Sero guided you down onto a strong thigh. It was hard and thick and way too muscular to be allowed, and your breath left you in a harsh hiss. And because this was the most embarrassing day of your life, Sero clocked it immediately, leaning forward in interest.
“You—like that? My—thigh?” he asked curiously.
You could feel your face burning, like someone had just dunked it in a bucket of hot coals. “I–yes. I like everything about you. Including your thighs,” you admitted.
Sero’s hand guided you back down against him, pressing his knee up experimentally. A thrill sang through your veins at the feeling of a piece of him so warm and firm right up against your core. You barely bit back the noise you wanted to make.
“Fuck, this is weirdly hot,” Sero said, leaning in to take your mouth again. You could feel him growing hard against your knee through the fabric of his costume, as his tongue flicked against yours, making your brain go a little woozy.
His arms came around you, holding your waist as he ground his leg up into you, sending a wave of pleasure striking through you like lightning. The moan you’d been trying to hold in finally broke free of you. “Ah—Hanta!”
The sound seem to spark something in him. Sero surged up, his hands making quick work of your shirt as he kissed you, still rocking you against his thigh in a way that made you see stars. You had the wild thought that everything about him was more than you’d ever imagined it would be, from the delicate press of his fingers to the warmth of his thigh to the way the strands of his hair that had escaped brushed across your forehead. Embarrassingly fast, like he knew exactly how to play you, he worked you up to the crest of your pleasure.
You had to put a hand to his chest to stop him.
“Hanta, if you—I’m going to cum if we don’t stop—” you said.
“Oh my god please,” was his only answer, and he pulled you down onto his thigh with renewed vigor. Sparks of pleasure pricked all over your body as he kissed you again, his hands roaming every inch of exposed skin. He left bruising kisses down the side of your throat, fingers playing with your nipples.
Another few rocks into his thigh sent you right over the edge, and he held you against him as you rode it out, squirming against his thigh.
“This is the hottest thing that has ever happened to me,” he said, something in his tone making it clear he was not done with you yet.
He helped you wiggle out of your pants, freeing himself of his own costume, and laid you out over his couch, grinning. He was golden with a fading summer tan, and his smile was so wide and charming and white against the dimming light from the windows. He was gloriously lean, hard with dense, compact stretches of muscle, every single inch of him honed from years of hero work. He was perfect—so stupidly, handsomely, perfect.
Between his thighs, his cock was just as long and lean, heavy and flush with arousal. It made you dizzy to think that this man, who you’d crushed on for so long, wanted you like this—wanted you back in the same way you’d always wanted him. You motioned him closer, too eager now to be self-conscious about it.
Sero laughed, a happy noise. “Fuck, you’re so pretty though.” He stretched out over you, sliding in between your thighs and guiding himself into you. His chest pressed to yours, hot and slick with a light sheen of sweat already, and you hissed with the feeling of him slipping inside you.
You felt drunk with arousal, crazy with want. You clutched him to you as he moved, thrusting carefully at first, as if testing the feeling of you, and then more firmly. You let out soft noises you hadn't meant to, which Sero seemed to appreciate.
“God, look at you. Listen to you,” he said, grinning down at you, his dark eyes tracing over you. “I can’t believe I got hit with that quirk. This is the luckiest day of my life—you’re so cute. So—fuck—so perfect.”
He slid into a frustratingly sedate pace, strokes long and languid, stretching out almost teasingly. You wrapped your legs more tightly around his hips, trying to press him into you, but his smile just widened. He moved leisurely, setting his own pace, just on the wrong side of too slow.
It drove you insane, somehow working you up even faster than if he’d been doing what you wanted. You muffled the sounds of your own moans against his lips, gripping onto those broad shoulders. Sero’s own fingers slid down to your clit, playing with you just as lightly and teasingly as his thrusts.
You could have killed him, but all you could do was hold onto him, slurring his name appreciatively.
He worked you like that for a while, bringing you close but never too close, drawing out the feeling into something warm and fizzy, like soda left in the sun. But eventually the band of his control seemed to snap, and he began thrusting into you harder, faster. Those long, lovely fingers circled your clit with more intent as he did, murmuring a steady stream of praise.
“Please—cum with me,” he panted into your mouth, as his fingers drew ever-tightening circles over you. “I want you to come with me, Y/N. Can you—can you do that?”
You nodded frantically as his thrusts grew faster, sloppier. He was so good inside you, so good over you, his fingers such a delicious pressure against your clit. It only took a few thrusts more, a few strokes of those careful fingers, and then you were squirming against him in earnest, your veins going molten with pleasure.
“Hanta—I’m going to—!”
“Yessss,” he hissed, and then he was orgasming too, spilling out his pleasure inside of you. His hips slapped yours in a stuttering pattern, half-crazed, and you shook against him, gasping. Your heart felt like it was going to beat out of your chest as you crested the wave, until finally—finally you went limp against him, just as his own body relaxed over you.
“I want to be hit with a quirk all the time,” he said, ridiculously.
You couldn’t help but laugh, smiling into his shoulder. “Don’t make a habit of it.”
Sero hummed thoughtfully. “I don’t know. If this is what I get every time, then…” he trailed off, smirking down at you.
“I’m not going to bang you if you’re going to be irresponsible,” you told him.
He perked up, however, those dark eyes peering at you hopefully. “But you’ll bang me otherwise?”
You laughed again, pinching him lightly on the arm where you held him. “What do you think having a crush on you for years means?”
His grin went all sly and pleased again. “Then I’ll have to lock it down, of course. I haven’t spent months wondering just to let you get away. Starting with dinner this evening, maybe. Do you—would dinner be okay?” he asked. The sound of genuine, eager hope in his voice was so gratifying it made you want to kick your legs in the air.
You settled for nodding instead. “Dinner sounds amazing.”
“Then I’ll arrange the finest takeout just for you,” he said, which you knew from experience meant the empanadas place around the corner. You laughed again, feeling full already with the promise of an easy meal, and a relationship to come.
“Whatever you want sounds good to me,” you said, even as he began to slide off of you, helping you up alongside him. “You’ve had a crazy day today, empanadas sound like the perfect cap.”
Sero leaned in, his expression as mischievous and charming as always. “It’s nothing,” he said, even as he carefully held out your shirt to you again, guiding you into it in an unexpectedly gentlemanly move. You let him stuff you into it, laughing, smiling into the kiss he gave you as you emerged.
He winked at you as he found his phone and dialed, smiling as you heard the call connect. “After all, I'm a hero," he said. "And it’s all in a day’s work.”
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satoruzlove · 1 year
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omi and his girly little gf <3
he thinks you’re so PRECIOUS. when he first saw you walking across campus with your nails done, shorter than most of your friends, dressed well and in pink he couldn’t stop thinking about you. atsumu had to snap him back into the conversation. kiyoomi thought that you looked like a pretty princess.
when you two become friends and talk more, he’s a little more obvious about it. when you get your nails done or ask him if he likes a skirt you got he always compliments how well it suits you, that pink is your colour!!
if you’re black, and you add pink into your braids/ dreads/ locs/ twists he thinks you look like an absolute FAIRY!!! you come back from the salon [ he wanted to come see you. he swears he did. but you didn’t let him for the ‘surprise’ of it): ] his mouth curls into a smile and his dimples are on display, he gets up from his spot on the sofa and asks if he can touch them. he clears some of the hair from your face and he places a feathery kiss on your forehead , “it’s not fair, how pretty you are,” he says.
kiyoomi just loves when you have french tips. he loves it. especially when the base is a pale pink colour, and the tips are just a crisp white. he loves how it contrasts with his black rings as he holds your hand. his heart flutters when your little, neat palm can only wrap around a few of his fingers. he loves how your manicured thumb rubs against his battered knuckles - it makes him feel dizzy.
he loves when you wear skirts or get new ones, he always twirls you around like you two were slow dancing. he’ll chuckle along with you when you giggle, “i think this one’s my favorite now,” he said to you ; although he’s said that about all 7 of the skirts.
don’t you dare try to do anything when you’ve just gotten your nails done. laundry? he’ll help. you wanna make yourself smth to eat? nah, he’s got it. you wanna shower??? why????? he’ll just clean you🤞🏻🤞🏻. his big sister used to complain about having to do things with her nails on and he’d never let his sweet little princess do anything by herself ):
omi would absolutely let you do his makeup if you wanted to try a new makeup look. you sit him down, putting his bouncy curls in a little bun and then priming his face. his cheeks smush and squish as your small hands work on him gently. he can’t help the warmth in his chest when he feels that you’re making a conscious effort to be gentle when you’re soaping down his eyebrows or blending out the highlight. his favorite is when you put on mascara- the way your index finger tilts his chin upwards and you mutter a ,’ look up f’ me, kiyo’ in the most sugary sweet tone he’s ever heard. he replies with a simple , ‘ ‘kay’ that could never give away the butterflies in the pit of his belly.
lastly - he’s spoiling you ROTTEN. he’s got allll that athlete money for what???? you, obviously. you saw some pretty mary janes you wanna wear to work? done. you want new earrings? done. you want a necklace with his name on it? done. well, that part wasn’t a choice- but he’s still happy that you wanted it. if you two are out and you even say that something is cute , his immediate response is , “do you want it?” and he’s dead serious. even if it’s ridiculously over priced. if you’re someone who cries when they accept gifts i’m projecting i’m sorry consider his heart SHATTERED when he hears the break in your voice as you thank him. he’s coddling you, asking if you really hated the gift that much, but when you explain that it just overwhelms you he feels tears in his own eyes at how precious you truly are. his large hand caressing your head and the other rubbing gentle circles on your back, whispering to you that you deserve his gifts, his love, his patience because you give it back to him. you deserve to be a princess- his princess- forever</3333333
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duckieflix · 10 months
Text
♡ ୨`kusuo saiki`୧
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☆ ⸝⸝  "i thought you coming here was a one time thing", she raised an eyebrow. "just make my coffee."
kusuo saiki x reader
warnings: swearing, toritsuka.
monthly allowance. something saiki had very little trouble obtaining but had almost too much trouble trying to spend. usually he would buy a cup or two of coffee jelly but unfortunately the store had sold out. they said they would receive their next shipment in a week, but he don't feel like waiting that long.
saiki searched online for cafes that sold affordable coffee jelly and stumbled across a store that looked appealing. joyous day cafe. it had just opened up a few weeks ago and had already become a hit, they sold cutesy deserts and of course, coffee. now, he doesn't usually approach populated areas such as this one, however their coffee jelly had amazing reviews and was even sold for an even better price.
the place was, surprisingly, not as busy as saiki initially thought. the exterior was made of brick, painted an off white colour. there was pink and white striped shades above the windows and the sign was small and hung on the wall. saiki debated on whether to enter not, it was still pretty early in the day which meant it could still get busy over time. he would have turned away then and there but as he turned on his heel a familiar face peered down at him.
"oh hey buddy!", nendo grinned down at the pink haired boy who internally grimaced at his presence. he should’ve just waited for the next shipment to get to the stores. “you goin’ in? let’s go together!”
saiki was about to shake his head but was stopped by another voice that added to his demise, “saiki? you’re here?” teruhashi. great.
all he wanted to do was taste this coffee jelly and go home. but of course, fate had different plans. soon he was joined by kaido, hairo, yumehara and toritsuka. this coffee jelly better be worth it.
once they finally entered the cafe, they sat at a large booth that had soft pink seats. saiki was stationed between nendo and hairo, he was thankful the seats were large enough for at least a small amount of space to be between each person.
a waitress walked up to them, a small smile on her face. she adorned a white button up shirt, black mini skirt with a frilly apron over it and black mary janes with frilly socks. her h/c hair was in a messy low bun and she held a pen and notepad in her hands. everyone immediately recognised her, it was y/n l/n from their class.
“oh! hey guys, fancy seeing you here!”, she smiled her eyes scanned the table and beamed at the familiar faces.
now surprisingly, saiki didn’t mind y/n’s existence as much as the others. only because y/n didn’t put in too much effort into being around him. she was very casual and didn’t smother him with unwanted attention like everyone else, for that he was thankful. their interactions were short, nothing more than a quick hello or a quick conversation about whatever was going on in class but it only lasted a few words.
“what can i get you guys?” y/n clicked her pen.
everyone began ordering, they all ordered the most popular or random dishes. bear shaped tarts, paw print waffles, galaxy tea? it was all so bizarre.
of course, saiki ordered his simple serving of coffee jelly. however, another item on the menu caught his eye. it was called the psychic special. obviously it was just a fun name but he couldn’t help but feel intrigued by the name. the small description stated it was a latte that had a random choice of latte art, if you guessed what the latte art was, you’d get your order half off.
y/n simply nodded and said she’d be back with their orders. toritska’s eyes wandered a little too far down for saiki’s liking, his gaze grazing against the back of y/n’s thighs. "who knew l/n was such a hottie? with legs like that she should be model!". these thoughts irritated saiki so, with enough force to inflict pain, yet not too much as to cause a scene, saiki kicked the purple headed male’s shin. when he yelped in pain, saiki smirked.
"perv"
the group began to babble about the cafe’s interior and admired the many cutesy decorations splattered everywhere. meanwhile, saiki had taken notice of a glass case that had a variety of hot steaming treats aligned neatly next to each other. it was right next to the register and also next to the machine that made the coffee, which happened to be where y/n was.
“hey saiki,” she smiled, “i saved you a small booth over by the corner, thought you’d want some peace and quiet away from that bunch” she pointed over to the group of teens that had suddenly started an arm wrestling match. currently, nendo was on a winning streak.
“you’re an angel in disguise, l/n” saiki nodded at her with his usual stoic expression.
“just doing my job!” y/n gave him a thumbs up before her expression turned quizzical, “what’s up with you coming here? not that i mind, just doesn’t seem like a saiki kinda place”
saiki continued to look at the treats through the shiny glass, “me being here is a one time thing, don’t get used to seeing my face.”
y/n just wordlessly nodded with a smile as he hobbled over to the booth that she saved. it was in a plant covered corner, there was a bookshelf to the left and a window to the right. it only had two chairs, one was occupied by saiki and the other was vacant. in between was a brown circle table. perfect.
a few minutes passed before y/n approached saiki with his order on a circular tray. a glass with a small white ribbon looped around the stem sat neatly in front saiki, the brown gelatin dish smiled up at him, a swirl of whipped cream sat atop the dessert. y/n placed a mug with a small umbrella like cover over the top that saiki assumed contained his 'psychic special'.
"now as you probably guessed, if you guess the latte art, you get your entire order for half of the original price" she slid the tray underneath her arm as she awaited saiki's response.
now obviously this was just a fun game that some people would play, a game of chance. except, this little game was nothing to saiki, being psychic and all, this was just way too easy.
"its a heart" he bluntly stated.
y/n lifted the cover to reveal indeed, it was a heart. she smiled at him warmly, "you're one of the first customers to get that right, good job saiki" she left his table after explaining she would be back with his bill. at this point, the cafe might as well be a restaurant.
when she left, saiki couldn't help but look at her longingly as she walked away. she was definitely one of the more tolerable ones, he couldn't believe he actually enjoyed her presence.
scooping up a chunk of the coffee jelly, he plopped the serving into his mouth and nearly melted at the taste. it was just the right amount of sweet and bitter, the cream made the jelly smoother than regular jelly. it was like heaven!
"holy shit"
after saiki had paid for his order, he waved goodbye to y/n.
"see you at school saiki! thanks for stopping by!" she saved at him, it was a miracle she didn't see the obvious flush of his cheeks. then again, saiki probably cooled himself down before anything could make an appearance.
"buddy! where were you?! we were so worried!" oh.
saiki had been so caught up in enjoying his meal that he forgot about the problems that awaited him. they seemed to have been standing outside waiting for his arrival, how dedicated. they all expressed their worry for his sudden disappearance which made his once amazing mood slightly falter.
they all started down the bricked path, saiki taking one final glance at the cafe. he looked at the building longingly, a strange warm feeling pooling inside of him. he had never felt something like this before, best to not do anything about it.
the bell that hung on the door frame rung throughout the mostly empty cafe, alerting the h/c haired girl behind the counter.
“welcome to joyous day, how may i-“ she stopped herself “saiki?”
our pink protagonist smiled fondly at y/n, something that was never seen. he adorned a pale blue polo shirt and black jeans. something casual yet classy for his visit.
“i’ll get what i ordered last time please” saiki pointed at his usual order on the small menu board, earning a skeptical look from the girl opposite him. she simply nodded.
she started to prepare the hot drink, although her eyes never left the psychic. her cheeks glowed at him, her heart rate picking up slightly. she never took him for the kind of person to become a regular at this establishment, she took him for a simplistic guy. not that she was complaining, if he was here a lot more she’d actually look forward to coming to work. unbeknownst to her, kusuo was feeling something similar.
“i thought you coming here was a one time thing?” she raised a brow.
“just make my coffee”
1K notes · View notes
zepskies · 5 months
Text
Green
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Pairing: Soldier Boy (Ben) x F. Reader, Ben and daughter!OC
Summary: Ben spends the day alone with his daughter, to varying degrees of success. When you get home, it prompts a serious conversation.
AN: Another one-shot for the BMD-verse, set sometime after "Until Morning" (you'll see). This can be read as standalone as well!
Word Count: 2,500 Tags/Warnings: 18+ only! Father and daughter fluff, followed by husband and wife spice.~
Read more of the BMD-verse! ⤵️
💚 Break Me Down Masterlist
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Father and daughter were glaring at one another, gazes locked.
Green against green.
“Young lady, I’m telling you right now. I’m not gonna tolerate any more of your little attitude,” said Ben. “If you want to try me, be my guest.”
He held the ravioli poised on a pink plastic spoon. His daughter Lila sat in her highchair in the kitchen, boldly refusing any more of her lunch.
Her stubborn face reminded him entirely too much of you. But he needed her to eat. He wouldn’t have it said when you came home that he couldn’t feed a damn two-year-old.
He huffed. “Work with me here. Just a couple more bites.”
Lila made a shrill sound of refusal when the spoon came near her face. He knew she could use a spoon just fine. She was being difficult on purpose.
To demonstrate her resolve, she slapped at the ravioli with a chubby little hand, and it ended up splashing back into the bowl. A bit of red sauce splattered onto Ben’s cheek, with a pinch of it hitting his eye.
He blinked in annoyance. “Delilah Marie, I swear to Christ—”
She’s just a baby, a voice that sounded a lot like you infiltrated his mind. It still didn’t take away his aggravation.
“No!” Lila insisted. It was her favorite word, right behind Bluey.
She then pushed the bowl right off the highchair. It spilled ravioli and pasta sauce all over the floor in spectacular fashion. Ben was sitting in his own chair by the dining table, where he moved his feet back at the last moment. She almost got his Italian loafers.
“You gotta be f…” It took every scrap of patience within him to hold his tongue…and breathe calmly through his nose. He didn’t want to reward this destructive, disrespectful behavior, but he also knew that he needed his daughter to eat.
“Want some applesauce?” he said, as a peace offering.
Lila’s face scrunched.
“No applesauce, huh?” Ben muttered. He glanced at the mess across the highchair and the formerly white tile on the floor. “Your mother’s gonna have a conniption.”
“Mommy?” Lila asked. “Mommy’s home?”
“No, she’s not here right now,” Ben replied. “She’ll be home later.”
Lila seemed to understand, because that’s when she got upset again. Her red-stained finger drew a shapeless form in the sauce as she pouted. At least she wasn’t crying.
Ben sighed, once again, and stroked her cheek with his thumb.
Fuck it.
“You want some ice cream?” he bribed.
Her sadness dissipated at the thought; she smiled brightly and nodded. “Yeah!”
“Yeah, I thought so,” he grumbled.
After a scoop of strawberry ice cream for each of them (she liked it because it was pink), Ben wrangled her up out of the highchair and declared, bath time.
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He did fine with the bathing process. He’d helped you with this before, and so he knew what to do in order to wash the sauce off her face, hands, and even her hair. It was what came after the bath that remained a problem.
Lila was stubborn beyond belief, even before she could articulate what it was about the soft green onesie that she didn’t like. No, she wasn’t satisfied until Ben pulled out the yellow Starlight themed pajamas. Probably because they had “Auntie Annie’s” face all over them.
He rolled his eyes, but this wasn’t a hill he needed to die on. He dressed Lila and tried to tuck her into bed for her afternoon nap. The problem was, she refused to lie still in the crib.
Instead, she was bouncing on the balls of her feet, using the edge of the crib for balance. He’d be impressed, if she wasn’t trying to climb out and give him a small heart attack.
He grabbed her and gathered her against his chest. Despite the super strength you’d temporarily displayed off and on throughout your pregnancy, Lila’s powers were latent at the moment. Dr. Baker seemed to think Lila would start to display them once she got old enough. Like Ryan, who hadn’t started growing into his powers until around 10 years old.
So for now, Lila was a mostly normal two-year-old who could still get hurt.
Ben frowned. “This is the time you usually go down. Why do you have so much energy?”
She just giggled at him and put both hands on his face, over his eyes.
“Daddy, guess who?”
He sighed, but couldn’t help smiling. As usual, he indulged her.
“Could it be my baby girl?”
He waited until her hands came away from his eyes, and he opened them wide.
“There she is!”
She squealed and giggled and grabbed his hair when he kissed her cheek. In the comfort of his own home, he could afford to be this openly affectionate.
Aw shit, he thought, as something occured to him.
He finally realized why she was so fucking hyper. Maybe it had something to do with the giant scoop of ice cream she’d had for lunch.
Goddamn it. Ben sighed and unwrapped her arm from around his head.
“Okay, let’s watch some TV.”
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Lila didn’t seem all that interested in watching anything, or even playing with her toys. She mainly wanted to jump on Ben’s stomach while he was trying to relax on the couch. He put on a football game you taped for him. Or recorded, as you'd said.
“All right, enough. Your old man’s trying to watch the game,” Ben said, bringing Lila down to sit in lap.
That lasted for about two seconds. Thereafter, she was climbing up his chest and trying to smother him with her little hands.
He took her hand from his nose so he could at least breathe in peace.
“Where’s Mommy?” Lila asked, as she sat on his shoulder and beat a little fist on the top of his head.
“She’s with your aunt,” Ben replied. “Well, not your real one, the fake one.”
Lila made a sound of confusion. Realizing that she didn’t know what the hell he meant, he rephrased.
“She’s with your Aunt Annie. They’ll be back soon,” he said.
He didn’t mind you wanting a day out to yourself. What he minded was the attitude you’d struck when he suggested dropping Lila off with Louisa, your actual sister.
“What, you can’t handle her alone for one day?” you’d asked.
His pride hadn’t allowed him to say no to that.
So here he was, with a wily toddler who was doing her damndest to suffocate him. Better attempts than this had failed, but it was still annoying while he was trying to watch the game.
Somehow, he managed to tune it out while he watched the ref make a bad call.
“What was that?! You gotta be kidding me!” Ben said, holding Lila to his chest even as he pointed and shouted at the TV. “Son of a bitch. What a pussy call that was.”
“Bish, bish, bish,” Lila said, making a game out of the word. It called Ben’s attention.
He forgot about the game for a moment when he looked down at her. His eyes widened a fraction, even as a smile pulled at his lips.
“What’d you just say?”
“Bishhhhhh,” Lila repeated. “Somvabishhhh.” Her lips squished like a fish. And then she giggled, like it was the funniest thing she’d ever heard.
“Aw, fuck,” Ben uttered.
And he pressed his lips together with ever widening eyes at what he’d just said.
Lila grinned. “Fack!”
“Uhh, no. No. Don’t say that,” he said, trying to sound stern. Inside, he was trying not to laugh. He didn't really give a shit what she said, but you were particular about the kid not inheriting his vocabulary.
In fact, he was pretty sure you were going to go nuclear for this one.
“Why?” Lila asked.
“Because it’s uh…a bad word,” Ben replied, even though he wanted to roll his eyes at himself. This was what he’d become. A suburban dad.
"And it's not ladylike," he added.
“Fackkkk,” Lila giggled some more.
Christ on a cross. Ben bit the inside of lip hard to stop himself from laughing.
“Whatever. Just don’t say it around your mom,” he relented. He brushed his fingers through her soft brown hair. She preened at the attention, like the little showboat she was.
“Daddyyyy…” Lila wrapped her arms around his neck and snuggled as deeply into him as she could, like a koala clinging to a shaking branch.
Ben sighed and rubbed a hand up and down her back as he cradled her against him.
These were the moments he didn’t mind. In fact, these were the moments he did his best to remember. They helped block out the older, darker ones that this kid would never know.
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Ben woke to the shutter of a camera going off.
He blinked his bleary eyes open to find you standing there with a highly amused smile on your face, and your phone poised in your hand.
He groaned, but he soon realized that Lila was sleeping in his arms, on his chest. You leaned down and rested a hand on her back. You also greeted him with a kiss to his temple.
“Long day?” you teased quietly.
Ben gave you a deadpan look, one that had you straining to taper down your giggles. Though he drew you closer by your hip and squeezed the soft flesh over your white sundress. He took you in with a lazy once-over.
You looked good. Sexy as hell, really. Your face was glowing and relaxed, and he liked the shade of red you’d done on your nails.
“You have a good time?” he asked.
“Yeah,” you replied, massaging his shoulder. Though you arched a brow. “There’s a catastrophe in the kitchen.”
Ben blinked.
Fuck. He forgot about that.
“Yep,” he said, giving you a teasing smirk of his own. “Right on time for you, baby.”
You chuckled, though your eyes narrowed in warning. “Yeah, right.”
You still helped him put Lila down in the nursery for the rest of her nap. She yawned and turned over onto her back. You pressed a soft kiss to her forehead, though you had to smile when it accidentally left the red mark of your lipstick behind.
You bit your lip and gently rubbed it off without waking her up. (An amazing damn feat, as far as you were concerned.)
Ben laid a heavy hand on your back, prompting you to straighten up and turn into his waiting embrace.
His lips curved as he looked down at you. “Hey.”
You laughed quietly. “Hey, yourself.”
Your hands glided up his chest, and further still to hold his face. You brought him down to kiss you, with your fingers slipping into his hair, and your nails dragging along his scalp. He hummed into your mouth.
“Miss me?” you teased.
Ben huffed. As usual though, his answer was in his actions. He held you close for a moment, just to feel you there.
Your arms slipped around his, clinging to his shoulders as you rested against him. This was your safe, comfortable place where you always felt at home.
But, you couldn’t help but break the spell.
“Come on. Clean up on aisle 12,” you quipped, reaching around to smack his ass.
Ben rolled his eyes, but when you pulled away from him, he followed you into the kitchen.
“You know, I had a lot going on. Your kid is a fucking menace,” he said. “Like a bull in a China shop.”
You scoffed. “She’s only my kid when she gives you a hard time. Where do you think she gets it from?”
“You,” he retorted.
You had to laugh at that one. It still didn’t get him out of helping you clean the kitchen from top to bottom.
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After a long shower, waking an errant child from her nap, dinner, and a joint effort of getting Lila to sleep for the night, Ben joined you in bed wearing just his usual sweatpants.
You’d opted for some black satin, he noticed.
Good, he thought, for the night to come. You’d spent the whole day getting massaged and moisturized and whatever else women did on a day out.
When he rolled onto his side, you greeted him with a smile and a hand running up his arm, already pulling him toward you. His hand glided along your bare thigh as you hooked it over his hip.
“I need to tell you something, but you’ve gotta promise not to say anything to anyone,” you whispered in the small space between his face and yours, and you tapped his chin.
Ben raised a brow and squeezed your thigh. Whatever it was, couldn’t it wait until long after he’d undressed you?
“What?” he asked.
“Annie’s pregnant!” you said with a wide smile. “Six weeks. She just told me today.”
Ben blinked at that one. “Is it Hughie’s kid?”
“Wha…of course, it is!”
“Wow. Guess he had it in him after all,” Ben remarked. “Who woulda thought.”
You shook your head, but his grin made you laugh.
“You’re ridiculous,” you said, through your remaining giggles, though you leaned forward and stole a kiss. It led Ben to want more, and more of you.
He started to ply you with slow, lazy kisses that grew deeper, becoming all-consuming as his tongue warred against yours. His hands dove under the satin covering your body, and his thumbs brushed the sides of your breasts.
���Maybe it’s time we go for number two,” he said.
You uttered another incredulous laugh, gripped a fist in his hair and tugged. “Excuse me?”
“You fucking heard me,” Ben said. He rolled you onto your back and pinned you there. “Ain’t no way we’re stopping at one. Lila needs a brother.”
“You can’t even handle one,” you teased. Your hands slid up his arms and then down his chest. “Baby, we can talk about having more kids, but—”
“And? We’re talking now,” he said. He dipped his head to start kissing a hot, wet line down your neck. It made your breath falter and your back start to arch. Your hips shifted against his, trying to find friction. You could feel his length hardening against your thigh.
“Ben,” you warned, and implored, but the graze of his teeth on your neck made you shudder.
Your grip on his arms tightened. “Please…”
“Please what?” he smirked against your skin. His hips rocked against your heated core.
This conversation was going into a no man’s land very fast.
You literally took matters into your own hands…by reaching down and grasping your husband’s cock through his sweatpants. You gave him a demanding squeeze.
His breath hitched. Ben paused, unlatching from your neck, and turning his lips toward your cheek.
“I’m listening,” he said, in a gritted voice. You smirked.
“We can, and we will talk about this,” you promised. “Just not when you’re about to be balls-deep inside me.”
You were back on birth control anyway (the pill this time).
Ben chuckled. His hand reached up and smoothed your hair away from your forehead.
“Fine,” he conceded. A smirk grew across his face. “But we can still practice.”
A giggle fell from your lips, just before he claimed them once again.
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AN: A little callback to the BMD Epilogue at the end there. 😂
What did you think about the father/daughter time? And do you think Ben won against either of the ladies in his life? 🤣
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Soldier Boy Masterlist
Main Masterlist
BMD Tag List (Part 1):
@this-is-me19 @waynes-multiverse @mrsjenniferwinchester @samanddeaninatrenchcoat @spalady26 @spnwoman @syrma-sensei @wirdbeimaufhebengebunden @muhahaha303 @123passwort
@xoxoviennaa @katherineann814 @lollag0w0 @globetrotter28 @nancymcl @ashbatz @secretdreamlandmentality @kristophalis @wonderland2022 @emily-winchester @shelh93 @sl33pylilbunny @spoonmynoodle @chernayawidow
@buckybarnes-1917 @asgardprincess97 @sometimes-i-sing @itsyellow @karnellius @kimberleymjw @is-this-a-febreze-commercial @iamsapphine @sanscas @se-fucking-hun @lassie-bird @jessjad @yepimthatperson @fromcaintodean @stoneyggirl2
@spnfamily-j2 @im-a-slut-for-fluff @lacilou @venicesem @mimaria420 @vanillawhiskeyflavoredkisses @tearsfortheyouth @agalliasi @chriszgirl92 @kazsrm67
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792 notes · View notes
ghostlykeyes · 6 months
Note
Hear me out
Grunge bf kayn with a hyper feminine gf , like his gf loves sanrio and cute stuff 🫢🫢🫢
♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡
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♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡
HEARTSTEEL KAYN: ULTRA-CUTE PARTNER HEADCANONS ♡ Gender Neutral ♡ SFW ♡ No TWs ♡ I am so fucking rabid for the idea of this combo...demon bf/ hello kitty reader SUPREMACY
♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡
KAYN
At first, the pairing confuses people, but those that see you and Kayn together recognize that somehow you just work. You soften Kayn's sharp edges in a way that he only lets those closest to him see, and Kayn helps highlight the fact that even though you look innocent and soft, there's more to you than that.
Both you and Kayn recognize how much work it can be to curate and present an aesthetic. That's part of what helps you two mesh so well, even though on the surface, you're entirely different. There's a mutual respect for the other, stemming from understanding.
Though he keeps them stashed in a bathroom drawer, Kayn's got a matching set of soft bunny-ear headbands for when you sleep over. Usually he just bobby-pins his hair back to wash his face, but when you're there, he'll pull out the cute headbands so you can match during your morning/night-time routine. For the sake of his image, please, please don't ever show anyone your bunny-eared, spa-masked selfies.
Kayn has you saved as 'prince/princess' in his phone. Fitting, since you're the patron saint of all things cute and soft, no?
The guys tease him whenever they catch Kayn with your things around the apartment, like when he's washing your pink Starbucks cups or pulling your cinnamoroll pajama pants out of the dryer. "Changing your look, Kayn?" They'll smirk, but he just rolls his eyes and sneers. "It's (y/n)'s, obviously," he bites. He's not really embarrassed, though—truth be told, he loves the way your life has leaked into his enough for others to notice. Besides, those nerds are probably just jealous that he bagged such a fucking perfect cute pastel angel.
Obviously, Kuromi is Kayn's favorite, if he has to pick one. You won him a little Kuromi figure from a claw machine, once, and he actually keeps it on top of his dresser, in full view for everyone to see. (It's probably the cutest thing he owns, and though he might not admit it, he fucking treasures that little figurine.) He sometimes says he's your Kuromi, though not usually in earshot of others. The similarities are uncanny—a proclivity for black, a tendency for mischief—they even have almost the same birthday!
Whenever you're in his room, Kayn sets his LED strip lights to pink for you.
If Kayn's going to be gone for awhile, touring and the like, he always gifts you a Calico Critters set the night before he leaves. "Try to take good care of them, yeah?" He smirks. "I don't wanna come back to the mouse family in the middle of a custody battle."
Kayn stashes a plushie in his underwear drawer, so you'll always have something to snuggle with when you stay with him (besides him, of course).
The visual contrast when Kayn lets you borrow a hoodie or jacket is nothing short of jarring. Here you are, this adorable thing in Mary Janes and a pastel skirt, sporting a bleach-dyed hoodie with a death metal logo. Kayn, of course, thinks the contrast is fucking adorable.
Kayn gently teases you about your bedroom—"I didn't even know this many pink things existed," he'll say"— but the truth is, he loves being in there with you. The softness makes him feel totally surrounded by you. It's gentle. Safe, even. Drinking from Sanrio glasses and slipping underneath a strawberry-printed comforter to spoon you may not be his usual style, but you make it feel so natural. (Sleeping in your bed, though? Kayn doesn't love that as much. He moves around in his sleep enough as is, but now he's got to worry about accidentally shoving your favorite Hello Kitty off the bed? Not fun.)
Kayn's favorite cutesy thing to buy you is sleepwear. Those pastel, soft-fabric cami and sleep shorts combos? Fucking delicious. There's at least three sets of your pajamas stashed in his PJ drawer, and Kayn bought all of them.
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diorctrl · 10 months
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KISS MY LIPS yang jungwon x reader
𓂂 ˳ mean girl reader x class president jungwon fluff warnings: intentional lower case, reader is lowkey a bimbo
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the air from the air conditioning of the class room blew on him, the teachers knowledge filling him as he wrote down his notes, he took a peek at the clock only 48 more minutes of class.
he went back to writing his notes but was distracted by the loud sound of the classroom door shutting, he didn’t have to look to know who it was, it was obvious.
the sound of his teachers voice is what makes him look up. “l/n, how wonderful it is for you to show up.” he looks at the clock. “yep, like always late, care to explain why?”
jungwon finally turns around to take a look at you in all your glory, your hair in a half up half down topping it off with a miumiu head band, your pink glossy lips and light sparkly eye shadow, your white leg warmers with and your mary janes with pink ribbons, he knows exactly why your late, no one puts this much effort into how they look and can show up to school early.
his gaze follows you as you walk up to your teacher at the front of the classroom, your mary janes clicking on the floor, you fan your face before speaking, “sir,I have a completely reasonable reason to be late today.” you stop right in front of jungwons desk, your perfume filling his nose she smells good like always.
your teacher crosses his arms while looking down at you. “right, and what’s that?”
jungwon eyebrows raise as he watches you pat out your outfit like you’re preparing to say the most tragic story ever known to man kind.
“okay, so first I woke up sorta late, not gonna lie but that’s beside the point.” you start waving your hands. “at first I thought my chauffeur was late because that’s what my dad wrote on the bored today since he couldn’t actually tell me when I woke up because he’s never home, you know CEO stuff, but you already know that, BUT, you’re never gonna believe this.” you talk like you’re gossiping. “he actually didn’t show up at all, all because his wife went into labour, can you believe her, how could she?” you ramble.
your teacher nods his head,entertaining you, “oh yeah, how could she.”
you smile. “I knew you would understand, I’ve had a very bad morning as you can see, I couldn’t even get my morning smoothie, so please don’t get mad me.”
a laugh was heard from someone in class, you snap your head towards them and the sweet smile that you had turned into the most bitchy face, that jungwon has seen multiple times.
“what’s so funny?” you ask the laughing girl, your mean gaze scans her, “you should be laughing at the tacky shoes on your feet.”
the girl goes quite, your hard gaze travels to jungwon, softening slightly before hardening quickly after. “that’s what I thought.” you finish before turning to your teacher. “am I free to sit sir?”
he lets out a sigh. “yes, you can go sit.”
you smile before, digging into your bag and pulling out a two 10000 won bills and putting in his shirt pocket. “buy yourself a nice lunch sir.” you pat his shoulder before shuffling to your seat at the back.
the person sitting beside jungwon leans in to him, “she’s never gonna graduate.” they say before leaning back but he doesn’t reply.
the rest of the class is haze and the sound of bells is what snaps jungwon out of it, he picks up his books, the sound of feet scurrying out the class fills his ears.
he makes his way out the class and down the hallway but is stoped by a familiar voice.
“Mr president!” you say teasingly, walking up to the boy, who looks down at you with amusement.
“you were really gonna leave me huh?” you say putting his arm over your shoulder as you guys continue to walk down the hallway.
he doesn’t respond just laughs shaking his head, “did you hear about the morning i had today? i still can’t believe it.”
“i think the whole class heard it yn.” he said leaning against the lockers beside yours.
“oh.” you pause for a minute, before continuing. “oh, and i can’t believe the audacity of that girl in class today to laugh at me? me? i could buy her.”
you take out the books that you need for your next class, “i’d have to ask for dad’s permission first though.” you say turning to your boyfriend rolling your eyes.
“oh how dreadful.” he says sarcastically he says taking your books from your hand and kissing your cheek as you close your locker.
“walk me to class?” you ask.
“always.” he replies.
“kiss me.”
he kisses your cheek.
“my lips dummy.”
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taglist: @doublasting
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eyesxxyou · 7 months
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Confessions Pt.i
♡ hobie brown x religious!reader
rating. m
word count. 4.4k
synopsis. after years of being missing, Hobie finally returns back to his hometown where his childhood crush still waits for him. but you're more dedicated to God than ever and he couldn't care less. he wants you and he intends show you all that you're missing out on
♡ °。 ⋆⸜ warning: religious themes, criticism of Christianity, corruption kink, defiling kink, making out, suggestive language, mentions of death
Part. ii
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You've always been the model child, the child who attended mass when others wanted nothing more to do with the church, who clutched their rosary at night in fervent prayer and often slept with it under their pillow. You were used to pinched cheeks and smiles at your seniors, twisting your purity ring around your finger when you're nervous.
You had never known sin in your life. The idea of premarital sex revolted you. You prayed for forgiveness whenever you thought someone was even remotely cute.
That all changed when Hobie came back into your life. He had changed a lot since you last saw him when he was just an altar boy. He had left the church for years, his mother still attending and always asking for the father to pray for her son to return to God. He was now wild, feral even, decked out in spikes, something of a permanent scowl on his dark, beautiful lips. His hair demanded attention in the a way that distracted from God. Everything about him seemed to be for the flesh, not for the Lord.
There was a time where the two of you were friends. Your mothers were friends so it only made sense that you would be too. He has always been outgoing, loud, yet kind and pure at heart, holy even. He used to walk with humility and humbleness. It was like he was entirely different person who had walked into mass with his hands in his pockets and a confident saunter in his steps. He demanded attention and jangle if his chains echoed off the walls of your small church. You were always taught to remain quiet and keep your head low.
You quickly turned your gaze when his found yours among the many. Did he even recognize you? It's been so many years. You hardly even recognized him if not for some telltale signs. His height, the slender beauty of his face, a freckle. You clutched your rosary tighter, in your hands– it's milk white pearls wrapped around your hand, the detailed cross with Ch*st hanging pressing into your skin.
You don't look at him as he and his mother sat next to you and yours. He sidled up next to you, an arm tossed along the pew behind your back. He smelt of things you did not know, like sin, like temptation, like Hobie.
"How've ya been, luv?" He spoke after listening to mass and deciding it was too boring for him. It seemed he did remember you, in all your meek shyness.
"I've been fine. I'm surprised you remember me." You whispered, trying not to interrupt, not to get too wrapped up in conversation during church when you should be focusing on God's good grace. 
"F'course, I remember ya, dove. Still the prettiest girl in here."
Your cheeks burned softly with the compliment and for it, you you clutched the cross in your hand until the edges of it dug into your skin as punishment. "We shouldn't be talking during the congregation." You crossed your ankles, your mary janes knocking against each other as you prayed a silent prayer of forgiveness. You would not be tempted.
If it helped, Hobie thought you changed a lot as well. When did you get breasts that so obviously showed through your clothing? When did you get so pretty? When had you grown into a woman?
You allowed yourself light makeup, mascara, lip oils that made your lips all glossy and pouty. Your braided hair way pinned back out of your pretty face, caramel and black in color, tied back with a pink bow. You wore a white off the shoulder top and a pink skirt with lace trim at the bottom. White, see-through stockings clung to those chaste legs of yours and your feet were adorned with mary janes, decorated in more pink bows.
He had originally only come to mass to please his mother this one time but if you looked this pretty now, it might not hurt to come again.
After, your mothers were chatting with each other, his mother pinching your rosette cheeks as she always did, talking about how much of a good girl you were, how Hobie was already talking about when the next congregation would be all because of you. "You're leading him back to God, my love."
"Where is he? He never even said goodbye." Your mother looked around for him but he was gone, dipped the moment church was over. He'd be back, he said but you doubted it. His mother waved it off. "You know how the young ones are these days, they don't care much for mannerisms." She looked back to you, shyly standing behind your mother without much else to do besides go home. You were still young, only bordering on 20 and you still lived at home. You couldn't bear to leave your old, peeling, floral wallpaper and your collection of stuffies. Plus, working for a Chr*stian nonprofit didn't always pay the bills.
You wouldn't see Hobie again for another 4 of your congregations before he decided to show back up. He had scandalized the church by wearing a crop top, was the talk of the town when he slid into the pew next to you and tossed his arm behind you once again like you two were close. His body was pressed against yours, his warm skin against your shoulders neck, the smell of musky cologne, the deviating gorgeousness of his face. His finger curled around one of your neat box braids, curled and uncurled, curled and uncurled.
You were wearing a pink camisole shirt with more lace at the top and bottom, and a white maxi skirt with little roses dotting the fabric. You wished you had worn something that revealed less of your skin because you should feel his skin on yours and it made you feel hotter than the sun and more of a sinner than the devil himself because his skin felt so nice and soft against yours and you wanted him to stay right there he was, with his knee touching yours and his fingers playing with your hair. How scant a knee touch could be.
"Who's it goin' t'day, doll?" Hobie leaned over and whispered in your ear. You leaned away from him, muttering silent prayers asking for strength in such rough times. "I'm okay, Hobie… How are you today?" You managed to get out.
"'m quiet chipper actually, my mum jus' asked ya mum if we could hang out again, thinks ya good f'me. Will make me 'believe in God again', 'n allat."
How great, how perfect. Now you'd constantly be in his presence. You'd be happy to spend time with Hobie but this Hobie was not the Hobie you knew. He was a stranger to you. It’s been so many years since he simply ran from home and only recently has he decided to come back into his family’s lives for unknown reasons. You were nervous around new people and in all ways that mattered, Hobie was a new person.
“Well, do you want to believe in God?”
“No’ particularly, no. But I promised mum since I ran away.” He was only 16 when he left, now he’s back at 21 and his mother almost smacked him straight across the face when he showed back up on her door. All these years, everyone in the community operated under the assumption that he had died.
Before the parish began his sermon in which he’d get progressively sweatier and out of breath across the 2 hours which Hobie always used to snicker at, he spoke. “I’d like to welcome back Hobart. After being gone for 5 years, he’s finally returned back home.” Everyone clapped for him, including you, but he just let his hand drop and began drawing circles on your exposed shoulder.
He kept like this through the entire sermon, touching you in some way, shape, or form. He chuckled softly at some of the things the parish said and whispered to you about things completely unrelated. “Le’s go back to our usual spot, doll. You remember?” His warm breath fanned your ear with the promise of something wrong if you go with him. You turned to look at him and found his face far closer than you thought it was, a smirk playing on his pierced lips.
“Would you genuinely listen to what I have to say.”
“I’ll listen to whateva comes from those pretty lips of yas, dove. Every single word.” He was so much more flirtatious now. He had you clutching your rosary every time he was around you, an action that did not go unnoticed. He placed his freehand on top of the ball of yours and your hands fell open beneath his warm palm. You already had scars littering  your palms from all your years of grabbing the cross too tight for protection.
“Stop doin’ tha’, you gonna hurt yaself.”
That was the last thing he said to you all sermon.
He stuck around after church this time, his mother with a firm grasp on his wrist to ensure he didn’t go off and disappear again. You hung around your parents, your eyes always wandering about to find Hobie. It was hard not to find him. His height and his hair made it impossible to miss him. 
“Mama, Hobie and I are gonna go somewhere quieter. I’ll be back home in time for dinner.” You kissed her cheek and tapped your father’s hand to get his attention before motioning that you were going to go. He was in the middle of deep conversion with the parish. He nodded dismissively and with that, you made your way to Hobie.
“Ms. Brown. Is it okay if I take Hobie with me?” Her grip on her son’s wrist was deadly, out of fear that he may run away from her again. She wouldn’t be letting him go unless she was sure he was in good hands, and in her eyes, yours were holy. “Of course.” She smiled upon you with fondness, her accent of her homeland thick in her voice. “Hobie, be good.”
Hobie shrugged out of her hold. “Yeah, I hear ya.” He tossed an arm around you and dragged you off towards the spot where the two of you would always hang out as children, an old playset that was rusting over by now and couldn’t possibly be safe enough for children to play on. It was a little down the way from the church just in front of a stretch of woods that separated the playground from the creek.
You went to cautiously sit on one of the rusty swings while Hobie dropped himself down without a care. He looked at you, your moisturized skin glistening in gold under the sun. You tossed your hair over your shoulder to better feel the sun on your shoulders while it lasted. The winters in your hometown were brutal at times so any heat was much welcomed on your end.
“Go ‘head then, gimme all the reasons why I should want salvation.” He’s heard it all. Especially from his mother. He had come back an entirely different person and point blank told her that he didn’t believe in a higher power and wouldn’t be attending church while he was visiting. His poor, Jamaican mother, a devout Catholic, acted as if he had just struck her across the face. She cried, she prayed as she does every night to this very day, and she rebuked the devil "who had taken her son" from him.
She had managed to manipulate him into coming to church at least once. And then he saw you. His old best friend, his longest standing crush, and decided that he’d stick around a little longer.
You fiddled with your rosary. "Well, there's nothing I can say to change your mind if you already aren't open to the idea. I'm not here to convince you of anything. But Hobie– why did you leave? We were all worried sick over you, praying that you were safe. After the first year, we thought you…" 
“Died? No, I toughed it ou’. “N I didn’t exactly go anywhere. I’d been to so many places that I couldn’t name jus’ one. I jus’ knew I didn’ wanna be here.” He shrugged and drug his boot in the gravel, the rusty sound of the swingset let out a creak every time he swung. “‘M tired talkin’ ‘bout me. How’ve you been, luv?” His voice grew tender when talking to you, his eyes were a touch softer as well, almost flirtatiously so.
Nervously, you spoke of all the things that have happened since he left. “Father has blessed me with a good life. I’ve been studying His word more and I feel closer than ever to Him–”
Hobie pretended to yawn before snickering to himself. “I don’ wanna hear about allat. I wanna hear ‘bout you, not tha’ bloke.” You gasped at his choice of words, the casual blasphemy from his lips, and held your rosary to your chest. “Hobie!” you scolded him and he raised his hands in surrender. “My fault, luv. I forgot you were still brainwashed.” He murmured the last part under his breath. “Tell me ‘bout you. Tha’s all I wanna know ‘bout.”
You didn’t know what to say. Usually talk about how good God is suffices for people. No one ever really wanted to hear about you, they usually wanted you meek and quiet, submissive and innocent in your ways.
“I attended a purity ball soon after you left.” You raised your hand to show off the ring that adorned your finger as a symbol of your purity. “I thought it was the right thing to do. Everyone thought that we would get married when we got older so when you disappeared, I needed to wait for the right man to come along.” You didn’t sound as excited as everyone else around you was. Your mother was happy to dress you up in a white dress and your father was even happier to take your hand and claim you as his until a Godly man came around to take your hand in marriage. But it all just felt weird to you.
“I always though’ those things were fucked.” Hobie admitted. “Gettin’ married to ya dad so he owns you until another man comes around to take ya leash.”
“It’s not like that.”
“How’s it like then?” Hobie raised a pierced brow at you, waiting for a witty response only for you to fall flat. You shift your gaze from his. “It was my choice. I was distraught that you were gone, Hobie.” You twisted your ring around finger anxiously. “My whole life everyone told me that we were going to get married and suddenly you up and left and my life was spiralling.” You babbled, tears swelling in your eyes, overwhelmed by it all, overwhelmed by him so suddenly showing back up in your life with all these questions and opinions. 
“You don’ think ya gonna marry me anymore?” Hobie reached out and traced a finger down the scant of your arm. You whipped away from him and wiped the tears before they could fall, looking back to him with hardness in that soft gaze of yours. It was hard to take you seriously with eyes like those and the pout in your lips. “That’s not something to joke about.” You ripped yourself away from him because if you didn’t, you would have shivered under his touch.
“Who said I was jokin’? Remember when would kiss back here after church. You were a little rebel back then.” He pointed to the treeline where the two of you would sit in the grass and innocently peck each other's lips, justifying it by saything the two of you would eventually get married anyway. It was innocent at the time but your face lit up, your cheeks burning with humiliation at the memory. You placed your hands over your face and shook your head. “We were children at the time. We didn’t know any better.”
“Why don’t we do that now?
“Hobie!” You reached over and slapped his arm. A smile stretched across his lips, a smile you always admired. It sparkled with a touch of mischievousness. “What is wrong with you!”
He got up off the swing. “The bible doesn’ say nothin’ ‘bout kissin’. Plus, we’re married anyway, by law of children’s imagination. Tha’s gotta count f’somethin’.” He began walking through the gravel and onto the grass towards the spot where the two of you would sit and kiss. He looked back at you, his expression asking if you would come with him.
You looked uneasily down at your hands with your rosary and your purity ring. He was right. The bible didn’t say anything against kissing before marriage and you’d be a liar if you said you weren’t attracted to Hobie, with his sly smirks and teasing remarks. You stood slowly and made your way over to where Hobie sat, teasing you with an alluring smile and a hooded gaze.
You sat beside him, a great distance away with your rosary and your bible you brought along. You were so nervous you were shaking and Hobie was not blind. “I’m not tryna pressure you into nothin’, dove. It was all jus’ fun ‘n games.” 
"I just wanna stay pure, Hobie. I wanna be untouched for my husband. I wanna be a good wife." You couldn't bear the idea of being tainted, of being impure. You shook with the fear of it, tossed and turned in the dead of night worrying over it, twisting and turning your ring around your finger.
You fell back in the grass, Hobie's figure leaning over you as you look at the sunlight streaming through the leaves of the trees looking overhead. You sighed with anxiety, grabbing fistfuls of grass in your hands.
Hobie scoffed at the notion. "You think being a good wife means you have to be a virgin?" You looked at him as if it were obvious. "Of course. I'm supposed to be pure and submissive for my husband. That's how I make it into Heaven."
There was something unreadable on on Hobie's face, an expression that bordered on anger and treaded on distaste. "Luv, you have no idea how…" he trailed off. Brainwashed you are. But he didn't finish. You were right. If someone wasn't open to the idea, they'd never hear you. He had to get the idea across to you in a way you'd understand.
"There are ways to find Heaven on Earth." He told you, laying down in the grass beside you. He lied on his side to face you, a warm hand tracing the round of your jaw with his fingertips to make you look at him. "I'll show you if you let me." His lips hovered over yours and for the first tips you did not retreat from him. Your mind screamed passage after passage at you but your body melted into his warmth and you relented when he pressed his lips to yours.
You were just so innocent. It would be so easy to show you a world of pleasure you never knew existed. You didn't even know how to kiss. You let him take the lead, let him press his tongue to the seam of your lips and nervously parted them to let him intrude upon your sacred body. This was sacrilege, the way his tongue found yours, something far beyond an innocent kiss. His tongue coaxed yours to move like his, gently and with fervor. His tongue piercing pressed against the chaste muscle of your tongue, untouched before in a way like this.
It was messy and uncoordinated, lips, teeth, and tongue all touched and caressed each other, teeth biting lips, tongues soothing the aftermath. Hobie chuckled into your mouth suddenly turning from timid to desperately seeking him out and suckling on his lip piercing, then his tongue, wanting him so desperately.
You moaned softly, a hot feeling growing between your legs that scared you. Did he know, could he feel it, the way you rubbed your thighs together? Was this sin? This feeling of warm wetness growing so steadily between your thighs?
Hobie brought his hand beneath your maxi skirt, his warm against your bare, unsullied thigh. He kept it there, his fingers gripping your flesh, thumb rubbing circles against your pink panties. He must be able to feel it, this feeling you had no name for but felt so good each time you pressed your thighs together.
This had to be wrong, a pleasure of the body, something Earthy, something that would plant you right in Hell. But if it felt this good…
Hobie was the one who first broke from the kiss, leaving you whimpering wantonly, your lips seeking out his until you realized just what you were doing. He was laughing at you and suddenly you felt exposed and embarrassed, biting your kiss-swollen lips. "'M sorry, dove. I ain' mean t' laugh. I just ain' expect you to get so into it." He reached up and pushed your braids out of your face and tucked them behind your ear.
You couldn't bear to look him in the eyes. "I just…I've never felt that way before." It was almost embarrassing to admit.
Hobie frowned a bit. "No' even when you touch yaself?" He's always been a bit forward with his questions but this one has to take the cake. You rolled away from him, so humiliated by his questions that you physically couldn't touch him with such an idea in your head.
"You've neva touched yaself?"
You shook your head. You never knew you could for one, your parents never allowed you to take health class in highschool, the idea of you touching yourself in recent years only made you resent yourself for conceiving such an idea and you had immediately went to the father about it to confess your sins.
Hobie was silent for a moment, thinking about something, you had no idea what, not until he spoke again. "You should come back to my place at the end of the week."
"I can't possibly. I mean– it's not right for two people at our age to be alone in one's house. It's a breeding ground for sin." You sat up with grass in your hair, tugging down your skirt that Hobie had lifted. "We can't, Hobie. It would be ungodly." As if what happened here wasn't just the same. The imprint of your bodies were still imprinted in the grass, pressed against each other, intimate in a way neither of you should have been.
Hobie got up after you and grabbed your wrist. You shuddered at his touch, the hot ache between your thighs making your legs feel weak or maybe it was just him. His lips were less swollen than yours but your gloss was smudged all across them, making you realize that if you went out as you were, you'd look like nothing more than a harlot. You'd have to take time to fix your makeup which was already light to begin with. Too much makeup would make you out to be a common whore too.
"Just think 'bout it, will ya? Jus' f'me, doll." He was so good at persuasion, those eyes of his could turn from predatory to soft and pleading so fast. You wonder how many people he's used it on, from his parents to innocent girls just like you he meant to completely tear apart and defile.
You've always been weak to him, even just a little. You recognized your Hobie in there, despite the clothes and the hair and the confidence. It's not that he's changed, just that he's found himself out there in the world wherever he's been.
"Fine… I'll think about it. But that's no guarantee that I'll go." Your voice wavered in confidence as he approached and took your chin between his finger and thumb and tilted your head upward. He looked between your eyes then down at your lips before bending down to kiss you once more.
You didn't resist him, not one bit. His tongue teased entrance to your mouth but never fully went there. His lips melded against yours, smooth as butter, so lightly you almost thought he wasn't there. His large hands found purchase on your waist, pulling you in close. You were still so awkward about it, you didn't know if you should do more. Kissing like this felt like sex, like sin, like something  you shouldn't be doing. But he made it feel so good, made your guilt melt away against his lips.
You told yourself that there was no scripture that frowned upon kissing, that you weren't doing anything wrong. You had nothing to be ashamed of yet but you felt that Hobie had ways to make you do something wrong and make you not even realize it before it was already done.
"Y/n? Y/n, where are you?" You could hear your father calling you and immediately you placed your hands against Hobie in a panic and shoved him away from you, backing away yourself to put as much distance between the two of you as possible.
Hobie smiled at you and used his thumb to clean up your smeared lipgloss. "Jus' think 'bout it, luv. If you come, I'll show ya what real Heaven feels like." You pulled away from him, from his tender touch against your face, holding your rosary-wrapped Bible to your chest. You felt if you didn't, he'd be able to see right through you, see the way your heart raced and leaped. Maybe he’d see how weak you were for him, how you were always willing to go along with his antics as children and now that you finally had him back, you’d do almost anything he asked of you.
“You should really stop saying things like that.” You murmured, marching past him to return to your parents before they find the two of you in another compromising position. Hobie watched your retreating figure, your hips unintentionally swaying with each step.
Fuck all these people brainwashing you, telling you these stories to scare you into compliance, denying you your own pleasure. The only reason he came back to this damned place was for you. He couldn’t care less about anyone else here. He’d take you, defile you, show you the pleasures of the flesh, show you the gates of Heaven right here on Earth in his bed.
His sweet, innocent, little thing. He’d have to show you all you were missing out on.
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lot-of-nothing · 1 month
Text
Entwined (Ch. 4)
Melissa Schemmenti x Reader
Reconciliation and growth? Melissa realizes she still has a lot she needs to work through.
Warnings: Sexual themes and internalized homophobia
Author's Note: A little worldbuilding around R's relationship with Melissa. Thank you soooo much to @alexusonfire for betaing this <3
Ch. 1 | Ch. 2 | Ch. 3
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The bartender placed a drink on the bar before you, earning them a furrowed brow and questioning glance. They gave a toothy grin in response and pointed down the bar to your left, “It's from the redhead.”
Your stomach sank at the prospect, and the bartender noticed how your features drooped. With a sympathetic glance, they let you be with your thoughts. 
Melissa. It had to be her. 
You stared down at the wood grain of the bar, debating if you even wanted to open the wounds that were barely healed as it was. Even a glance felt like too much for you now. You weren’t ready for this after everything ended so terribly. But it didn’t seem like Melissa was giving you much of a choice as her plump hand crept from your shoulder blade to your shoulder, “Long time no see.”
You knew her voice well, so when her tone lacked her typical confidence, your eyes flicked up to her face with concern. Her flaming hair was tucked behind her right ear and she was gazing at you softly as her thumb began rubbing soft circles against your clothed shoulder. “Can I sit?”
Your eyes scanned her body as you considered her question, noting the casual outfit of jeans, a pink long sleeve shirt, and her usual jumble of necklaces. Any emotions that her presence stirred in you were pushed down with your apathetic tone and shrug as you swivel your head to face forward once more, “I don’t own the place. Sit where you want.”
Melissa took a nervous seat next to you. She wasn’t about to back down just because you seemed angry with her. She had thought long and hard about everything that had happened between you and was ready to reconcile. Mel chewed at the inside of her lip as she let some time pass between the two of you. Her eyes were watching you intently in the mirror hung behind the shelves of liquor across the bar, and her nails nervously tapped on her glass of brown liquor as she thought about what she should say. 
The redhead coughed and then turned her head slightly towards you as she spoke, “Ahem, how’s Ms. Sunshine?”
“We broke up.” Your response was automatic, and while you tried to sound just as cold as you did when you let her sit, you couldn’t hide your disappointment when you were reminded of that night once more. 
“How’s-” Melissa started, but you cut her off.
“We don’t have to do small talk.”
Mel allowed silence to fall between you both again. From the corner of your eye, you watched her fidget with her phone as she pretended to be comfortable with the silence between you both. You knew she was searching for a different topic of conversation to you talking - the effort being a refreshing change to your interactions in the past.
Another few minutes passed before her voice rang out again - twinged with hope that reminiscing could get you to talk to her, “Remember senior prom? When Frankie Amici ditched me for Kristin Marie?”
At first you considered only nodding, but then you caught a glimpse of Melissa’s half smile in the mirror as she stared into her lap and thought about that night. You decided to play along, but you refused to smile or offer any indication you enjoyed the conversation, “We sat out on Reading Railroad Bridge with a pack of menthols from your uncle.”
“A train came and we had to jump into the river.” Mel’s nose scrunched up at the thought of being in the Schuylkill River. She remembered scrubbing her skin raw afterwards to get the remnants of the polluted river off of her. 
The memory of you both jumping off that bridge, hand-in-hand and screaming as you plummeted into the freezing water, brought a smile to your face. You made so many bad decisions together in your teens that it was surprising neither of you ever hurt yourselves. You glanced at Melissa, smirking a bit as you reminded her of the aftermath, “We warmed up in my car.”
Melissa straddled you in the passenger seat of the Pontiac Oldsmobile you borrowed from your cousin. You slowly unzipped her baby pink prom dress while she kissed your neck. She was grinning when she pulled away and peeled the dress from her body - Mel always loved the way your eyes lit up when she revealed herself to you. Her hand caught you by the back of the neck and guided you to her breasts, “Why don’t you help me warm up?”
With your hands pressing into her back, you dove towards her breasts - rolling her nipples between your teeth and leaving darkened marks across her chest. Your hands sunk under the soaked fabric of her dress, revealing more of Melissa’s chilled skin to you. She pulled away again, leaning back against the dashboard to watch you with her intense green eyes. You wished you could say you met her gaze but you were too busy staring at her torso. 
Melissa’s mouth went dry at how you eyed her. In your reminiscing, you had begun watching the redhead just as you did that night - hungry eyes flicking between her cleavage and her lips. She hummed in agreement as her heart skipped a beat, “Mhmm..”
 Finally you stopped ogling her and met her gaze, “You looked so pretty in that pink dress.”
And with that statement, you made Melissa Schemmenti blush. The heat on her cheeks only grew as you propped your head in your hand and stared intently at her, raising your brows as you waited expectantly for her to carry on the conversation. While she had broken you down a bit into being willing to speak to her, it was up to Mel to carry the brunt of your discussion, and carry it she did. 
You went back and forth for half an hour, sharing silly memories from your time spent together. The conversation took a change in tone when Melissa stared at her hands and asked, “You remember when Nona died? The night after?”
“That night you came over at 2am. I let you in and you crawled into my bed.” You knew how painful it was for her to bring it up - it always had been since she passed. With a tentative pace, you reached out and covered her hand with your own, giving her a light squeeze before lifting your hand to her face to tuck her red locks behind her ear. Your gentle actions caused her gaze to lift to your face.
Melissa’s eyes watered, but the tears were swiftly blinked away with a huff before she spoke, “I remember your hand on my face. Even while you slept, you seemed to know when I was cryin’ ‘cause your thumb would rub my cheek.”
After Melissa had crawled into your bed, you followed suit, drawing her to your chest. She rested her forehead against your sternum and she was using your bicep as a pillow. You could feel her tears falling from her cheek onto your skin which made tears threaten to fall from your own eyes. 
“She loved you so much, pretty girl...” You whisper, drawing your hand to her cheek and rubbing soft circles into her cheekbone. She didn’t even protest as you pressed your lips against the top of her head. While sleep would overtake Mel and you periodically, you would always rouse with the feeling of tears against your skin. When you woke, you would gently rub her cheek until she would settle back down and fall asleep. 
You offered a soft smile, “You were over a lot that week before the funeral... stress cooking. I don’t think my fridge has ever been that full since.”
The redhead let out a puff of air instead of a laugh, “Yeah…”
An hour later you had moved from the bar into a small booth where Melissa was pressed into your side. Mel’s behavior was a bit different than what you had come to know - it made you wonder what had changed within the past few months. You knew Mel wasn’t a regular of this bar so she might have been feeling comfortable in the anonymity and inebriation. 
You lean in close, grinning wide when Melissa didn’t move away which only left a few centimeters between you both. You teased her quietly, reaching an unseen hand out to rest on her back, “Aren’t you nervous people might think you are flirting with me?”
“Who said I was flirtin’?” She lifted her nose into the air and smirked while her foot stroked your calf under the table. This was the flirtatious attitude you loved from Melissa. 
“Maybe it’s how your shirt keeps getting pulled lower… Or maybe it’s how you keep getting closer... and closer.” Your finger teased at the edge of her now exposed bra and your lips lingered closer to hers with every word. In all of your years of knowing Melissa, you had never experienced a situation where it felt like you were on a date with her. Your chemistry was undeniable and you wondered if she felt it too. 
“Maybe this is just how I talk to people.” Her lips brushed against yours before you were the one to pull away. 
You leaned back in your seat, staring at her with a cocked head. While it was challenging to do so, you had to remind yourself that you couldn’t make this so easy for her. “Oh, yeah?” 
She hummed, eying you as if she could eat you alive, “Mhmm.”
“Melissa?” A voice rang out from behind Mel causing you to sit a bit higher in order to see where the source of disturbance to your flirtation. 
The redhead’s head whipped around as she obviously recognized who had interrupted.  Tragically, she shifted away from you entirely to look at the young man face to face. Her cheeks were aflame as a scowl formed on her lips, “Jacob?”
Jacob lit up at the sight of Melissa’s face and from your outside perspective, he seemed to be well intentioned, yet potentially exasperating. He began speaking at a mile a minute, gesturing with his hands and occasionally peering around Mel to smile at you, “I didn't know you came to Good Dog! I thought you said you wouldn’t be caught dead in a place like this?”
“Well I- What are you doing here? You had a date.” Melissa was obviously flustered and you only made matters worse as you leaned forward unsuspectingly and placed a hidden hand on the small of her back, lifting her shirt slightly to rub her bare skin. Your act made her sit up a bit straighter which made you grin. 
“They said donating to NPR was the equivalent of funding the Trump campaign. I knew it wouldn’t work out from there.” Jacob waved off his own failed date and leaned against the table with his eyes focused on you. He had a bragidose air about himself as he explained his own relationship with Melissa - a relationship that obviously brought him a great deal of pride. “Who is this? I’m Jacob Hill. I work with Melissa at Abbott, and we are roommates.”
“Roommates? Incredible.” You respond, eyes wide with a faux excitement that was more meant to tease Melissa as you had no clue she was living with someone. 
“Jacob. This is Y/N. We went to high school together.” Melissa introduced you and shifted back in her seat a couple inches to hide your hand on her from the young man. In the past, your relationship with Melissa was hyper-private so you found this experience entertaining. It felt sadistic that you were incredibly satisfied with watching Mel squirm in her seat with discomfort, but felt like a form of payback for years of her keeping you a secret. 
Jacob didn’t seem to notice Melissa’s odd behavior and leaned over the table with a more hushed tone. His eyes were bright and enthusiastic as he questioned you, “Did Melissa ever do embarrassing things in school? She refuses to tell me anything that might lead me to know her age.”
You leaned in close to Jacob, whispering loud enough for Melissa to hear, “Voluminous hair. Bigger and higher than you can dream of. Lots of hairspray.”
Jacob was grinning wildly when Mel took him by the arm and guided him away from your little booth. It made you grin wickedly when you saw her having to readjust her shirt. 
With a bit of increased proximity from Melissa, you were finally allowed a bit of clarity. You couldn’t believe what you were doing. Four months ago you had told her to leave, anticipating you would never have to see or speak to her again, and now you were wrapped around her finger once more. You needed to set boundaries for yourself and Melissa so as to not get your hopes up - after all, maybe a more structured ‘friends with benefits’ could work... right?
Melissa spoke quietly enough to keep you from hearing her scolding tone. All the while, Jacob hardly seemed fazed by how she growled when speaking to him, “Jacob, you never answered my question. What are ya’ doin’ here?” 
Jacob fished his phone from his pocket and swiped it open to show her the app he used to figure out where she was. The redhead’s anger slowly simmered as she realized he was more well intentioned than her initial thoughts, “I saw your location was here on Find My iPhone. I was coming from up the street and just wanted to check in. Am I… interrupting something?”
“No! No. No. No.” Mel was defensive, folding her arms over her chest and glancing back at you with furrowed brows, “We are just catching up.”
“Okay.” His tone made it seem as though he didn’t quite believe the redhead, and to make matters worse for himself, he was smirking a little bit while he glanced back and forth between Mel and you. 
Melissa’s tone alone was the equivalent to her baseball bat (Edith Houghton) in hand, “What’s with the little smirk?”
“Nothing.” Jacob’s coyness had Melissa ready to tear him in two, “What did you say your relationship was again?”
“What relationship? We are… friends. Just friends. From high school.” Melissa poked a finger in Jacob’s chest, snarling to get her point across - a fruitless pursuit. 
“I remember when I caught up with this one friend from high school. We ended up messing around in his car afterwards.” Jacob’s newfound friendship with Melissa had him feeling much braver than he was a year ago. He teased the redhead with a wide grin and then waved to you before he made his exit. “It was nice meeting you! See you at home, roomie.”
After exiting the bar, you had found yourselves in the backseat of your car for a quick makeout session. On the way out of the front doors, Melissa had pulled you into the darkness of the nearby alley, pushed you against the wall, and kissed any remaining thoughts from your head. The only thought you were able to form after she took your hand and tugged you back towards your car was: God, I missed her. 
You knew you should have made things harder for her. You shouldn’t have been able to be won back by a couple rounds of drinks and exchanging memories, but there was always something about this woman that felt so much like home that you couldn’t stay away. By the time she opened the door to the backseat and told you to get comfortable, you told yourself there would be other times to resolve the lingering issues between Mel and you.
 “I think he knows.” Mel leaned back in your lap, resting her back against the driver's seat. She was breathing heavily from the nonstop kissing and most of her lipstick was now smeared across your mouth. 
You knew she was panicked about her interaction with Jacob back at the bar, but your mind was a little preoccupied with the sight of Melissa’s bare chest. “Knows what?”
You leaned forward and attached your mouth to Melissa’s neck while your hands began working to unbutton her jeans. The redhead wove a hand into your hair to keep you against her as she continued her stressing, “He knows about us.”
“Who?” It wasn’t intentional, but you were entirely absentminded as your hands drifted back up and were now filled by Mel’s breasts. 
Melissa huffed at your inability to follow her train of thought, “Jacob!”
“Mel…” You whined, pouting against her neck. After all of these months lamenting over your relationship while simultaneously yearning for Melissa, all you wanted after hours of emotional bonding was to act on the lust you had for her. 
The redhead began rocking against your lap with her arms wound around your neck to continue her venting, “Gays have that, you know? Gay-dar or whatever.”
You couldn’t help but smile at Melissa’s phrasing as you dragged your tongue up her neck. She tasted citrusy yet floral from her orange blossom perfume, “Mhmm…”
“What if… God… What if he knows?”
“Knows what, Mel?” You finally pulled back, lifting Melissa’s chin to bring her gaze up so she was looking at you. Even with your efforts, she still averted her gaze. 
“Knows I’m… I’m...” Melissa danced around the words, entirely overwhelmed with the prospect of admitting something she wasn’t quite ready to.  
“Oh, pretty girl…” Your hands took the redhead’s face and held it close while you kissed her forehead and tucked her hair behind her ears. Mel was still pouting a little when you ducked your head down to catch her dejected gaze, “Why don’t you go home and talk to him?”
She whined and pouted with a pseudo-glare as her own way of arguing with you, “But we were-”
“Mel. I think we both know this will happen again sometime soon.” You pressed another kiss to her forehead and wrangled her into a hug. She struggled against your arms for a moment before relaxing into the embrace, allowing you to hold her for a few seconds. 
When you pulled away, you began collecting her articles of clothing - presenting her with her bra and shirt for her to redress. Your adoring gaze and gentility made the redhead blush as this type of attention wasn’t exactly like anything she had experienced before with her boyfriends and husband, but it was a common feeling for her when you were together. 
Not only did you open the door and help her out of the car (all while sitting down), you offered to walk her to her car. She couldn’t believe how she didn’t quite notice your adoration before. You had always tried your best to take care of the fiercely independent woman, but perhaps your gender had always made your care nonthreatening when compared to care from men. 
She bumped her shoulder into you as you strolled down the darkened sidewalk towards her car. Her words were genuine albeit pained, “I’m really sorry… about always doin’ this to ya’.”
You could hardly believe you were receiving an apology from the redhead, so you couldn’t help but tease her in response - bumping her shoulder with your own, “Are you really?”
Melissa stopped in her tracks, staring up at you with an intensity you were not prepared for, “I am. You have always been good to me… I’m just- I’m figuring things out. You never deserved any of this.”
“Mel, it’s okay.” You felt discomfort in the vulnerability with Mel. All you had ever wanted was an apology and now that you had it, you didn’t know what to do with it. 
She answered plainly as she continued walking to her car, “It’s not.”
You trailed after her towards her car, somewhat reeling as you thought about her apology. What did she mean when she said she was figuring things out? Did you have a chance with her? Maybe this is the result of you putting your foot down with her. Maybe she realized what was on the line and her desire for you outweighs whatever fear she has of being gay. 
Your swirling thoughts bring forth a surge of confidence in you as you stand outside Melissa’s driver side door. Leaning your forearms on the open window of Mel’s car, you lean inside a bit - entirely unable to hide your giddy grin, “Can I kiss you goodbye?”
Melissa floundered for a moment. A goodbye kiss felt so much like a relationship, and after she had broken up with Gary, she told herself she wasn’t interested in anything like yet. But then again after everything happened between you, she didn’t want to hurt you by placing you back into the not-so-friend-zone once more. Finally, she nodded silently, leaning forward timidly in search of your lips. 
As your lips made contact, you stretched out a hand to grasp her face. She hummed at the intensity of the kiss as she never expected it when you exuded this quiet dominance. You held her in place and licked at her bottom lip. You deepened the kiss and then pulled away slowly, leaving her stuck in place for a moment - completely dumbfounded. It was all so much at once and she was hardly expecting it. 
“See ya’ around, Schemmenti.”
Just like that Melissa was back in your life, and this time you were filled with a bit of hope for your relationship. You didn’t want to put too much stock in it, but something felt a little different this time. 
--
Jacob perched himself on the couch in the living room, staring intently at the front door as he waited for Melissa. The second she walked in the front door, he leaned back in his chair (just as he had practiced in his head) and flourishing his hands as he spoke, “Caught. Red. Handed.”
Mel dropped her bag by the front door as she locked it, rolling her eyes at Jacob’s dramatism, “What are you talkin’ about, kid?”
“You and a certain ‘friend’ sharing a little kiss in the parking lot.” He leaned forward in his seat, absolutely exhilarated with witnessing Melissa act so queerly. “Well, it was maybe more than a little.”
Jacob’s support was ignored as Mel saw a more glaring issue - he had been following her. Often she would scold Jacob, but now she was yelling, causing the young teacher to cower where he sat, “YOU WERE HANGIN’ AROUND WATCHIN’ ME?!”
While his tone was meek, he tried to maintain his positive attitude, “I had a feeling. I knew it! You’re bisexual!”
“No. I am not gay. I like men and that’s it!” Melissa shouted, waiting to finish tearing Jacob a new one before she would storm up the stairs and ignore the world for the rest of the evening. He attempted to interject, but she shut it down immediately and gestured fiercely with her hands to really get her point across, “Shut it. I don’t want to hear another goddamn word about this, and don’t you dare think about telling anyone at school about this!”
Link to Chapter 5
Taglist: @esposadejoyhuerta, @unicorniusfallapatorius, @sapphicxrat, @earpivore
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random-brushstrokes · 13 days
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Norman Rockwell - Christmas Homecoming (1948)
In 1948, Rockwell created his vision of a happy Christmas reunion by gathering all three of his boys in a single painting. We see the back of his oldest son, Jerry, receiving a joyful hug from his mother, Mary. To the left of Mary, in a plaid shirt, is son Tommy. Youngest son, Peter, appears on the far left wearing glasses. To Mary’s right, with that ubiquitous pipe, is happy Dad, who occasionally made cameo appearances in his paintings. To make this scene of the homecoming even more joyous, Rockwell added friends and neighbors from his community in Arlington, Vermont. Many of these people appeared on other Rockwell covers, like the little boy holding the hat, who was the main character in Rockwell’s A Day in the Life of a Boy. Rockwell also used the boy’s baby sitter—the blonde girl on the far right—and his mother and baby brother, who was dressed in a pink sweater. The little girls in red jumpers are actually one girl—the daughter of Rockwell’s doctor—who was so cute, he painted her as twins. Rockwell’s good friend and fellow Post artist, Mead Schaeffer, is at the very top left. His daughters, who posed for Rockwell are also shown: blonde Lee is just left of Norman, redheaded Patty, stands to the right of Tommy. And what family gathering is complete without a grandmother? Happy to pose for the role was none other than Grandma Moses, who started painting at 67. “When I knew her,” Rockwell wrote, “she was over 85 years old, a spry, white-haired little woman. Like a lively sparrow.” (source)
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slyblonder · 1 month
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King for a Day
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MDNI
Youth Pastor!Mingi x GN!Reader
warnings: sex(gross ikr), its just a blowjob, mentions of fingering, throat fucking, spit mention, hair pulling, tears (Dacryphilia), i cant think of anything else ngl
word count: 1.9k (first long fic les gooo)
“You might want to get an early start on your Hail Marys then.”
“In the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit..Amen.”
Following along you made a cross on your body. This will not be the only time you do this today, and it certainly won't be the last.Mingi and his father had just moved into town, the new pastor and his insanely hot youth pastor son. You had to have him. You needed him like no other. “Lord forgive me for what I do later.” Fixing your dress as you got up, smiling at all the families that passed by you.
You were never the religious kind, you never participated in church, hell you rarely even came to service. But as soon as you caught a look of Mingi you were already in your closet picking out an outfit. You’d always try your best to match him. His outfits were very simple and appropriate but also so slutty somehow. It could be all his rings and chains but once you start thinking about it your mind wonders, thinking about how his chains would look dangling in your face. You shook those thoughts out of your head, saying bye to the last few families to leave.
Upon Mingis arrival to your town you were quick to sign up as an assistant. You didn't care about them damn kids nor the lord but here you were every sunday, helping by his side teaching about the lord.
“Thank you so much for your help today. I know it was a lot harder since we had a full house.” Mingi spoke, making you jump a bit. That’s the other thing about him that had you so enamored..His voice. It was so deep and husky but so soothing. You could listen to him for hours.
“It's no problem Mingi, you did great like always. I’m just happy we let out early today.” You moved out of the pew to now stand face to face with him. “I get to hang out with my favorite person.”
Mingi looked at you with confusion and sight shock, pointing at himself. “M-me?”
Despite his “cold” and “dark” image Mingi was a very gentle and even cute person. Any and everyone could see that. “Yes, you. Why do you think I help you out so much? Why I’m always by your side? Why I’m always at your beck and call?” You watched as his cheeks turned a soft shade of pink. Cute. Walking closer to him he seemed frozen, closing his eyes briefly as if waiting for something eagerly.
“You’re so cute like this…flustered and pretty.” Walking closer you stopped right in front of him, leaning up to his ear with a smirk. “If only the heavens knew how beautiful you look right now.”
“y/n I…w-what's going o-on…” You placed a quick kiss on his cheek, watching as his eyes popped open. He looked as if he saw a ghost but the tint of pink never left his face.
“Ever since you knocked on our door holding that gift basket, I couldn’t stop thinking about you. You looked so fucking good Mingi. I wanted you, I needed you. So I signed up to help, anything to be closer to you. Not only did my urges to have you get stronger, I started to grow feelings for you.”
Mingi couldn’t believe what he was hearing. This is everything he ever dreamed of. Yeah, he was the pastor's son and had to keep up an innocent persona;but it was quite the opposite. As much as he was devoted to his faith he could never shake the thought of you ever since he saw you. He wanted to hold you, take in your scent…devour you. Mingi knew it would be wrong and go against his faith, but he couldn’t help but imagine such sinister acts with you.
“You’re very bad at hiding your gaze, Min. I see you stare and used to think nothing of it. 'oh, he's not looking at me, he's just giving his attention like usual…’ until I bent down and saw you staring at my chest.” You took a step back and watched his reaction with a smirk. His hands were balled up, his face still a visible pink, and a much more visible print in his pants appeared. You could tell from the way he stood there he was virgin but not in the slightest innocent.
“I- I tried to hide it…”
“Not well enough.”
Mingi bit his lip before starting to mumble.
“Wouldn’t you like to feel like a king for a day or even forever? I think you liked it.” You spoke with a small laugh moving to sit Mingi in the pew. He sat there and watched your every move, waiting for you to pounce on him.
“Y/n please… I can’t get the thought of you out of my head. I ache for you.” These words sounded like music to your ears. Mingi wanted you, ached for you, needed you. Moving into the pew you sat on his lap, feeling how big he was instantly and watching him let out a soft whimper.
“You might want to get an early start on your hail marys then.” You placed small and slow kisses on his neck, moving up to his jaw, sucking lightly. He sounded so fucking needy, and you to wanted to hear him scream in pleasure but decided to spare him.
“H-hail Mary, full of grace…The L-lord is with thee fuck y/n-“
“Don’t stop, keep going.” You began to bite at his skin, leaving small marks that would disappear pretty quickly. “Blessed art t-thou amongst wo- ahh…women, and blessed is the fruit of thy womb, Jesus.” Mingi finally allowed his hands to rest at your waist, gripping tightly with each bite. “Holy Mary, Mother of God, pray for us s-sinners, now and at the hour of our death, Amen.”
“Amen indeed, I can’t believe I have you all to myself Min. You sound so pretty under me. You’re already so hard for me, I think I should do something about that huh?” You laughed a little as Mingi began to nod very quickly, begging to feel something more. Moving off his lap you found a way to kneel in front of him. It was a little uncomfortable but such a small price to pay for what was in store. Mingi took a second to look at you, taking in how pretty you looked in front of him. He mindlessly reached for your cheek and smiled, knowing there was no going back once you started and he was okay with that.
You wasted no time and began to unbuckle his belt and undo his pants, biting your lip as you could see his print more and more. Lifting his hips Mingi helped you pull his boxers and pants down to his mid thigh, giving you more than enough access. Mingi was big. Bigger than most you’ve been with, you were determined to take all you were given. “Please…do something…” Looking up at him doe eyed you licked a stripe up his shaft, smiling as you finally got a taste of him.
Licking up his precum you took as much of him as you could, moaning and slightly gagging at how full your mouth was. Mingis hand quickly moved to hold onto one of the ponytails, bucking his hips at the sudden warmth. Your mouth felt amazing, he was sure he'd cum in no time if you kept it up.. “Your mouth feels better than I imagined fuck..” Mingi moaned, throwing his head back trying his best to keep as quiet as possible. The worst part is if someone walked in right now, he would care less. All his prayers were being answered right before him.
Tears ran down the side of you face as you let Mingi fuck your throat. He was a lot more rough than you imagined but damn did it turn you on. You let your hands travel between your legs, slipping into your underwear and inserting two fingers to fill yourself up more. Feeling so stretched out you let out a moan sending vibrations up Mingis cock. “Fuck, I’m gonna cum. Lord, please, please please forgive me.” Hearing him beg for forgiveness turned you on so much, inching close to your own release.
You sped up your pace, fingering yourself fast and sucking off Mingi even faster. Every cell in Mingis body felt like it was on fire; He's never felt this kind of pleasure before and hopes that this will never be the last. Mingi grabbed onto both your pigtails, practically hunched over your body. If anyone had walked in right this moment they would just think he was praying. “yn i-im cumming! im cumming oh—oh my god…thank you, thank y-you.”
Cumming down your throat felt amazing to Mingi. From your face stained with tears, spit, and cum; your legs sore and shaking from cumming so hard. You both stayed like that for a second, Mingi finally sitting back breathing heavily. You lifted off his cock, making sure you swallowed everything and taking a deep breath.
“You have a thing for being rough, it's hot. You should also be thanking me, I just gave you the best blowjob ever.” You smiled, moving to place the two fingers you used to fuck your self in Mingis mouth. “A small taste of what's to come. Literally.”
You laughed and used his legs to help you get up, sitting right next to him in the pew. “Y-you want to do this again?” Mingi asked, shocked since he has yet to catch his breath properly.
“I told you I can make you feel like a king for a day, or forever. I think we both want forever…unless I'm wrong?” You searched to see where your bag was, reaching into the pew behind you and pulling it into your lap and searching for wipes to clean you both up.
“No! I mean, you're not wrong…I would really like that,I just feel like I'm still dreaming…” Taking the wipe he was handed, he cleaned up any excess spit and around his thighs before pulling up his boxers and pants.
“Dream or not, I’m all yours Mingi. I’m heavily devoted to you.” He looked at you with so much awe and lust, wiping your stray tears and smiling softly.
“I’m more than willing to sin for you, dream and reality.” And he meant that, no amount of repentance will make up for it and he was okay with that.
“You should come over this weekend, My parents are gonna be out of town. We can see how devoted we are to each other, like the lord wants.” You spoke soft, moving to whisper into his ear before pulling back and giving him a quick peck. “See you soon Mingi, or should I say pastor Song.”
Mingi watched as you picked up your bag and waved bye with such a sinister grin, you truly were a wolf in sheep’s clothing. He sat there and thought back on everything he just experienced, chuckling at how lucky he just got.His prayers were definitely answered. Thanks God. He shook his head and moved to kneel down, folding his hands and bowing his head. Might as well get an early start right? “Hail Mary, forgive me, blood for blood, hearts beating…”
©️slyblonder
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a/n :I FINALLY DROPPED THIS FIC OMG!! Sorry i took so long yall, life started turning me every way but loose and then also starting a new job drained me. But enjoy I hope yall like it, if not also lmk you hate it🗿 okay byee love youu
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tags:
@slvtiny @pandoora-the-pink-goth @pearltinyy
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snowywolf1005 · 2 months
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JOYBOY LUFFY X MOON GOD FEMALE READER 🌙
THE SUN AND THE MOON
Warning: blood, curse
Luffy was defeated by Kaido, and now Kaido is attacking everyone. The strawhat thinks Luffy has died, as for you .
You were injured, badly injured so bad, you just passed out while luffy asked Law to put them in a better place.
You were with Nami, marco, and tama. "Luffy dead!? Now, way! That's ridiculous!" Nami cried. "When he says he's gonna win, he'll definitely win, at any cost!" She yelled.
Then Nami began to cry, "So stop lying, you disgusting snake! Luffy, I know you can hear me! Please don't make (Y/N) cry!" She yelled. "Keep your words as always!"
Luffy lay on the ground, and his heart started pumping, playing music. So, as you, your heart starts playing like shamisen.
Zunesha heard the sound of bumping and the shamisen. "momonosake," he said, "what? Zunesha!?" Momonosake asked.
Then the drum started playing in music. "Momonosake! I can hear them!" Zunesha yelled.
"It been a while..." he said, luffy hand start twitch. Momonosake looks confused, "you can hear them? It's been a while? Zunesha, what are you talking about!?" Momonosake yelled.
Luffy body started steaming. "I can hear the drum of liberation. I'm hearing them for the first time in 800 years! I'm positive that they are here!" he yelled.
"wh-who's here?!"
"Joyboy, lunala... has returned!" He screams. Luffy hair turned white, and his body started jumping. Red and white lighting flying everywhere.
Luffy lifts his body. "What happened... to me?" he said, standing up and trying not to fall. " How come I can still stand up?" He asks, then Luffy starts smiling.
" I lost the battle," he said, smiling. "But this is getting fun!" He laughed, falling to the ground. As for your body, it started moving a little.
"Joyboy! Lunala!" Momonosake yelled, "luffy and (Y/N) is joyboy, lunala!" Yamato yelled. "Is that what zunesha said!?" Yamato question.
Luffy laughed, rolling on the ground, and couldn't stop laughing even more. "This is getting fun!" He said, his clothes turned to white, his eyes turned pink.
In the performance floor. Everyone was shocked to see on above, "What? Is that straw hat man?" Said hyogoro, then he smiled.
"Straw hat!?" Said marco, he turned to Nami and tama, who were hugging each other and you too. "Hey! He's still alive-yoi!" He yelled.
"Luffy's not dead?!" Nami yelled, crying. "Big bro's still alive?!" Cried tama, "That's great!" They said crying. "(Y/N)! Luffy is alive!" Nami cried, hugging your body.
Luffy laughed, jumping.
In the mary geoise, pangaea castle, the hall of power. The five elders were in the meeting.
"Sacrificing one of our best agents... only to enrage kaido is like putting the cart before the horse," said warcury.
"But what if it's better than the alternative? It's better to eliminate a risk factor." Said Saturn.
"The world government... has always tried to get hold of the gum-gum fruit and the moon-moon fruit, but it never came into our hands. For 800 years!" Said nusjuro.
"It's as if... the fruit is evading us... That not entirely implausible," said Mars. "Zoan type devil fruit have a will of their own." Said Peter.
" Furthermore, that devil fruits bears the name of a God. Another name for the gum-gum fruit and moon-moon fruit is..." said warcury.
"The Zoan, human-human fruit, mythical type, model... 'nika' 'lunala'. They say that his body had the exact properties of rubber, as for lunala. She can shapeshift and illusion. They fought as they fancied and made people smile." Said Peter.
"The warriors of liberation and the moon queen, also known as... nika, the sun God! Lunala, the moon, God!" Peter yelled.
"Awakening it is said to give its user's rubber body and the shape shifting body even more strength... and freedom. I heard that it's the most ridiculous power... in the world, " said Peter.
Luffy jumps in the sky, jumping on the ground, clapping his hand. "I can do everything I wanted to do! I think I can fight a little bit more!" Said luffy.
Jumping around, dancing around. "My heartbeat sounds funny!". Luffy jumps high, "This is our peak! HAHAHAHAHAHA!!!" Luffy laughed.
"This is it! Gear five!" Luffy yelled, letting out all lighting go nuts around. And you, you opened your eyes and it full of red. 'What going on?' You question.
'How come I can't feel anything pain at all? What is this?' You keep questioning yourself. Then you hear drums, 'what that sounds? It sounded familiar? Why can't I remember?'.
Luffy jumped around, clapping his hand. Smiling, bouncing, dancing. Being all goofy all that stuff and started laughing.
As for the bottom, everybody was shocked to see full lightning. 'What going on? What happened to luffy?' You question, luffy grab his tumb and stared blowing on it.
His arm became bigger and bigger. "Hey, what on?!" Someone yelled, "someone's color of the Supreme king?!" They yelled.
"Where is it coming from?!" Someone yelled two, kaido looked above and saw someone outside above. "What's that on the roof?" Kaido said. He looked a hole on above, then a huge hand burst out and grabbed kaido.
"L-luffy?" You said with a lower voice, luffy pulled kaido up, Law and kid was surprised. "Straw hat?!" Said kid, "is that luffy?!" Chopper scream.
Luffy pulled kaido way up, kaido scream. Then luffy pulled his pruple rope on his waist and became muscles. "Muscles! Muscles! Muscles!" Luffy yelled, luffy flew to kaido face.
And punching him, luffy jumps back and grabs kaido body. "Here we go!" Luffy yelled, luffy spin kaido body around, then slamming his body on the ground.
Luffy keeps slamming kaido body on the ground. You, on the other hand, are still injured. You can see Nami, tama, and marco taking, "l-luffy," you said.
Nami turned around to see you, talking. "(Y/N)! Aaaaaa!! I thought you were dead!!!!" Nami cried as she hugged you. "Luffy, I got to help Luffy," you said, trying to stand up.
"(Y/N), you have rest!" Marco yelled, and then you finally opened your eyes. Nami screamed, Marco and tama looked at you and was shocked.
Your eyes turn to red, "(Y/N)?" Tama asked, then you stand up. Your skin turns white, and pruple lightning comes everywhere on your body, and a pruple smoke sorm around you.
"(Y/N)?!" Nami yelled, your body turned to blue, then you transformed into a gaint shadows monster.
Like this:
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"AAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!" Nami and tama scream. Then you fly up, everybody looks at you in horror, "What is that!?" Someone yelled. You look up to see a hole lend to outside.
"Luffy's," you said, you go through the hole and make bigger holes. You looked to kaido turn black.
Like this
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And luffy laughed when luffy looked at you.
You flew over to luffy, and you turned to your human form. And luffy was shocked to see you alive. He put his hand on your cheeks, "(Y/N)!!!" Luffy laughed, and he hugged you tight.
He started kissing you all over your face, and you kissed him on the cheek. "So you're alive as well?" Said kaido, you look at him and transform your monster form.
You and luffy V.S kaido, let see who wins.
PART 2 COMING RIGHT UP!!!!!
If you want more, just leave a comment below!!!!!
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st7rnioioss · 2 months
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౨ৎ⋆ ˚。⋆ romance cheat sheet, pt. 2
chris sturniolo x reader
warnings: swearing, fluff?
summary: Chris and you have been best friends since middle school. Chris has been in love with you since he met you, and you developed a small crush during sophomore year. It’s now currently senior year, and Chris has no idea how to ask you out. So him, his brothers, and their friend, Nate, make a ‘romance cheat sheet’, to get you to fall for him (even tho you already have..?)
a/n: HELP can you tell this is rushed😃😃… sorry, I promise i’ll take more time to make it perfect for you!!!
౨ৎ
“Oh my god, I’m fucking starving.” Y/n whispered from beside me.
English class was sucking the life out of the both of us. The teacher kept talking about something I forgot around 30 minutes ago, until she handed us all some paperwork.
“Hey uh- I have Nerds Gummy Clusters. You want some?” I smiled, reaching for the pink plastic bag.
“Oh my god! I love love love gummy clusters, you’re a life saver.” She beamed, giggling quietly as she reached a hand out to let me pour a few into her hand.
One point to cross.
-
I couldn’t take my eyes off her. We were walking to lunch, her hands still in the pink bag of gummy clusters.
“These are so good. I think I’d die without Nerds, holy fuck.” she chewed, keeping her stare on the colourful gummy’s.
“Yeah, they’re great. I like the ropes better tho.” I smiled, softly grabbing her shoulder to direct her to the cafeteria without bumping into anyone.
“Chris, It’s basically the same!” she giggled, hitting my arm gently as she found an empty table. The gummy clusters were put back into her backpack, adverting her gaze back to me.
“So-“ she folded her arms on the table. “After school, we’ll go to the park, I heard there’s opened an ice cream booth.”
“Is this an order? Am I being forced?” I screwed my face up into a disgusting look, obviously joking.
She rolled her eyes, hitting my hand.
“Stop. After that, can you please ask Mary Lou to let me sleep over, I’ll be too lazy to get back home.” she fake pouted, making us both laugh, slightly drowning out from the noise in the cafeteria.
“Yeah, are you sure though? I can walk you home if you’d like. I mean, I’d love for you to sleep over. I chuckled nervously, smiling awkwardly at her.
“No- Uh- I’d rather sleep over. Let’s get some food.” she stuttered, grabbing my hand to drag me through the crowd.
“Are you alright? Your face is all red.” I mumbled, pointing to her cheeks, as I stood behind her in line. She was quick to turn around and grab a plate.
“I’m good. Don’t worry.”
-
“Oh, hi sweetie! I didn’t see you this Friday, where were you?” Mary Lou brought Y/n into a tight hug, making me roll my eyes with a soft smile.
I swear, she loved her more than her own son.
“Oh- Chris just said he had a friend over so I didn’t want to barge in. I hope it’s okay I’m here now though.” she smiled apologetically, pulling away from the hug, looking at me.
“No, don’t worry! You know we all love your company, especially Chris.” my mom smiled, winking at me for a second.
“Yeah, that’s enough mom. Let’s go.” I said, completely flustered as I grabbed Y/n’s hand, even though she knew her way around our house.
-
I was laying on my side, right next to Y/n. We had been talking for what felt like hours, the both of us starting to get tired.
“Chris, was Mary Lou right? Do you especially like my company?” she mumbled, eyes half closed, one hand fidgeting with my fingers.
I immediately went red. I thought it had went over her head.
“Y-yeah, she was right. You’re my best friend after all, of course I enjoy your company.” I laughed dryly, my gaze focused on our fingers. I couldn’t look her in the eyes.
“Oh. Right, of course.” she smiled, but it didn’t seem genuine. I looked at her, trying my best to smile back.
“Let’s get to bed, it’s late..” I murmured, carefully tucking her hair behind her ear.
Two points to cross now.
“Goodnight, nerd.” I chuckled as I saw her red face, eyes glued on mine. I leaned forward to press a very friendly and way too frequent kiss to her forehead.
“Goodnight, Chris.” she smiled, this time a way more genuine one.
-
My alarm went off. 6:30.
I slowly opened my eyes, sensitive to the light from my bright phone screen. It took me a minute to register the position I was in. We were in.
Flat on my front, one arm wrapped around Y/n’s waist, the other hanging off the bed. Fuck?
She was still sound asleep, a hand wrapped around my forearm that was still attached around her waist, the other resting under her pillow.
“Y/n, wake up.” I whispered, not moving an inch.
She groaned, withdrawing the hand that was on my arm to rub her eyes.
“I’m up.. What time is it?” she mumbled with a rough voice, completely unaware of our position.
I moved the hand that was around her waist, her head quickly dropped to look down at her torso.
I reached for my nightstand, checking my phone for the time.
“It’s- It’s 6:32. There’s breakfast downstairs.” I squinted, still not completely used to the brightness from my phone. I put my phone back down, looking at her.
She groaned again, making me chuckle slightly. I stood up, stretching, before grabbing a shirt from my chair.
“Come on, get up.” I chuckled, grabbing her hand to drag her up from the bed.
“Chris, stop!” she laughed, hitting my arm with the hand I wasn’t holding. Finally, she got up, grabbing the hoodie I lent her last night.
We both stumbled down into the kitchen. My whole family looked up at me and Y/n, hand in hand, basically also wearing the same outfit.
"You guys looked comfortable," Nick smirked, looking back down at his cereal as we both sat down around the table. I look at her with a confused expression, then back at Nick. "What do you mean?" I chuckled nervously, knitting my eyesbrows together. I signaled for Y/n to grab a plate, which she did.
"All cuddled up?" Nick smiled, making Matt choke a laugh on his cereal. Seriously? They peeked into my room? I look over at Y/n. She was blushing like crazy. There was silence for a bit, until we both laughed it off.
a/n: sorry this is boring, i needed a filler chapter. ANYWAYSS, leave reqquesets please and thank you. MORE FLUFF INCOMING CHAT
taglist: @chrissgirlsstuff @leah-loves-lilies @toriinie @cupidzsq @lacysturniolo @iluvmattyb @ratatioulle @emma4eva @riasturns @sstvrnioloo @sweetbabydoe @elliewrites1 @its-jennarose @abbypost @chrisstopherfilmed @sturniolossss @ducksturniolo @junnniiieee07 @klaus223492 @urfavvev3lyn @vschrissturn @cicimayx @keerahsturn let me know if you'd like to be added!
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eyesthatroll · 1 year
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how many drinks? | luke hughes
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pairing; lh43 x fem!reader
warnings(s); none really, fluff? lowercase intended, not edited. also written in like 15 minutes so kinda bad (might rewrite/re-edit it at a later date idk)
word count; 0.6k (blurb!)
summary; luke approaches reader at wedding reception
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"do you want to dance?" you lift your gaze from the game of candy crush that you were currently enthralled in.
a tall brunette is staring back at you. he looks down at you expectantly, rolling on the heels of his feet. "do i know you?"
the boys cheeks tinge pink, and he runs a hand through his slightly curly hair before speaking again. "n-no, i just, i don't know. you look bored."
his awkwardness brings a smile to your face. you ponder his offer for a moment, the song 'skin' by dijon playing through the speakers.
the dance floor had a few couples on it, the other guests scattered around the room, eating cake or loitering near the bar.
you flip your phone screen side down, and chug the rest of your drink. "sure pretty boy, let's dance."
you lift your hand up, and he take it in his, easily pulling you out of your chair. he leads you to a small corner of the dance floor.
your arms rest on his shoulders, hands crossed behind his neck. his hands finding home on the small of your back.
"i never got your name." you state, the two of you swaying softly.
"luke." he answers sheepishly, seemingly embarrassed that he hadn't already told you his name.
"so, which side are you here for, luke?" you asked, your fingers beginning to absentmindedly play with the hair that coiled at the nape of his neck.
"oh, um, the groom. he's on my team."
you brows raised in confusion. "i didn't know you were a player for the devils, not sure i've seen you on the ice. though, i've only watched maybe a few games so i could be completely wrong"
"i haven't-well not yet, at least. i just signed my contract a few weeks ago." he says.
"that's exciting," you begin. "leaving college, i presume?" you're not sure if your questions are too personal, but luke makes no moves to ward them off.
luke gives you a bittersweet, close lipped smile. "yeah."
"that's got to be hard, leaving your friends?"
he tilts his head, thinking a moment. "i mean, yeah, but i'll still see them. plus, i have jacky, and the rest of team-they've been pretty nice and welcoming."
you nod in understanding. "so jacky, she your girlfriend?"
" oh god no!" luke sputters, his cheeks painted crimson again. "that's my brother-jack. he plays for the devils, too."
your eyes widen, and you kick yourself internally for your assumption. why would he of asked you to dance if he was in a relationship?
" 'm sorry, i shouldn't have assumed." you apologize, shaking your head slightly to yourself.
"no, it's all good! i'm single, by the way."
"professional hockey player gets no bitches?" you tease, feeling more comfortable with him by the moment.
he lets out a breathy laugh, his hands tightening around your waist. "i think i do okay with..the ladies." he trails off.
you mouth an 'okay', and dramatically nod your head.
"just looking for the right girl, i guess." he finishes.
"that's understandable." you agree.
"and you?"
"looking for the right girl?"
you laugh at your own joke.
"no-no, i mean, beautiful girl like yourself must have..suitors."
luke's face contorts into one reminiscent of pain.
you followed suit, cringing at his choice of words. "suitors?"
you laugh at him shamelessly, a big bellied laugh that draws attention to the two of you on the floor, not that either of you noticed, too engrossed in your own world.
luke pulls you closer to him, burying his head in your shoulder. "stop laughing."
mari speaks! again, like mentioned in the preface, wrote this super quickly so not edited/kinda bad but i might re-do it or make a part 2 idk. also, luke’s playing in his first playoff game tmro so make sure to wish babyboy some luck <3
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isuckatwritingsobenice · 10 months
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Alastor x girly reader please !!
I love this concept so much, so i’m excited for this
nav // masterlist
Warnings: none !
🎀 Pretty In Pink 🎀
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Your spoiled rotten, like he gets you any and everything he thinks you might like
want a new dress? it’s already on its way don’t worry. need new jewlery? oh of course let’s go to a shop right now
he pays no mind to a price when it comes to you, i mean he has all this money he might as well put it to good use right?
he loves watching you do your hair, or if you prefer to go to a salon, he likes watching the process, sometimes you try a hairstyle he suggests and it looks AMAZING
he really likes dressing you up, call it control or whatever but he just loves seeing you all pretty for him
you know this man loves his looks so naturally he’ll have your outfits match his own, the two of you compliment each other
if your out and his appearance needs fixing your always there, moving a strand of hair, fixing his glasses or straightening his suit, you always have an eye for it
hell wait for you to get ready when the two of you go out together, sometimes he’ll stay with you in your shared bathroom and watch you get ready, putting makeup on and fixing your hair
he likes when you ask him to help you zip up your dress ;)
he likes that your all cute and pretty in pink
He thinks the baby pink is a nice contrast to his harsh red
he likes how everything you own matches you, compliments you, all the different lipglosses and hair clips you have
the pretty little mary janes you have on a shoe rack with little bows you glued onto them to make them more ‘you’
something about you is so sweet and innocent, makes him want to ruin you sometimes
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Note
Hello! I hope you are doing great! But I was just wondering if I may request head-cannons for Bo Sinclair with a fem s/o who is like the cliche innocent good girl (loves wearing bows and ribbons, frilly cute dresses, Mary janes…) I feel like this would be an interesting dynamic with Bo (that he would absolutely EAT UP because that man is insane and you can’t tell he wouldn’t love the idea of “corrupting” someone or even like protecting the reader and shielding her from the world…) If not, that’s fine! But thank you and have a great day!
Bo Sinclair with innocent girly-girl (fem) S/O
Masterlist
When you strolled into town one day, Bo did not think you were real
I mean, pink… frilly dresses… ribbons!
Bo doesn’t leave town much so he can’t say for sure, but he didn’t think there were girls who actually dressed like that
He also didn’t think you’d be his type
And yet…
Bo and Vincent had killed all your friends, as per usual, but you hadn’t been there to witness it
You were such a sweetheart when Bo found you and you asked where your friends were
He couldn’t tell you
Instead, he told you they left without you
You were devastated, but Bo thought he’d done good(ish) by protecting you from a worse evil
He kept you around for while under the pretence that your friends might come back looking for you
Eventually the truth came out about Bo, his brothers, and the town
But by this point you’d already fallen hard and fast for Bo
You were everything Bo never knew he needed, and just about the cutest thing he’d ever seen
“Aww doll that’s damn sweet of ya! But there’s no need to bring beers to the garage, i’s all dirty in ‘ere and your dress is all pretty!”
He thought you deserved better than a ruthless killer like himself, but wants to keep you for himself nonetheless
He was shocked when you agreed to stay but did not complain
Would never admit it but loves playing with your hair, especially after you teach him how to plait it and tie the ribbons all pretty
Never lets you around new victims visitors
Doesn’t want you getting attached or upset, and doesn’t want you near all the gory happenings
(Won’t admit it, but he also doesn’t want to see you disappointed in him because he still thinks he doesn’t deserve you - doesn’t want you thinking that leaving him is a better option, either)
Kind of treats you like glass sometimes - never wants to distress you or be harsh with you and gets apologetic real quick if he’s snappy
“God, ‘m sorry baby I didn’t mean t’ snap at ya!”
“Lester better not’ve told you about the trouble last night! I swear to God I’ll kill him!” - “Bo! It’s fine! We were just chatting!” - “Doesn’t matter! You don’t need to hear all that nonsense!”
It’s nice, but you know he’s holding back
After he gets more comfortable with the relationship he’s a little less gentle
Still an absolute sweetheart and never intentionally upsets you, but he enjoys teasing you and lets you see the real him a little more
“Be careful there doll.. I don’t know anyone else who would describe me as a sweetheart. Wouldn’t want ya to see their point of view now would we?”
He’s testing your boundaries a little to see if opening up is going to scare you off
You can see the playful and often hopeful glint in his eyes though and know he would never hurt you
(P.s. sex with Bo started out so gentle and loving, but you knew he wanted to ruin you - corruption kink in full force once you finally let him)
(Wouldn’t do anything you don’t like though, any sign you’re not enjoying yourself and he’s stopping and making it up to you)
Eventually comes to face the fact that you’ve made him a better person - he’s still a psycho and a killer, but he never thought he could love and care for another person like he loves you
A/N: thanks for the request! So so sorry it took so long! Lmk if there’s anything else you’d like added, and feel free to request!
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