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#i made this in animation class earlier!
old-knightsvow · 11 months
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I FORGOT TO POST ABT THIS HERE but today by the end of my grammar 1 class our teacher got really quiet and looked at us Very Seriously and asked "do you know what day it is today?" and we all just. looked at each other bc i mean. Yeah but also why would our grammar teacher ask us that and the girl behind me said "....weed day?" really quietly and he completely ignored her and got up all smiley "its my birthday :)" and the chorus of ooooohs was very funny honestly
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starsmourning · 7 months
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𝒮𝒶𝓋𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝑔𝓇𝒶𝒸𝑒 ˖ ׁ ⁩ .ᐟ
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૮ ྀི◞͈ ˔ ◟͈ ྀིა ‧₊˚ ꒰ྀི it was a tempting offer he offered you, I mean you were practically useless at everything and he was your saving grace. So it would be fair to accept it right? ꒱
ᥫ᭡ ⋆゚⊹ ꒰ྀི pervy nerd alhaitham x loser!ftm!reader ꒱ — ( college au ノ dom/sub dynamics ノ bottom male reader ノ dom alhaitham ノ consensual ノ fingering ノ you pronouns ノ transmale anatomy ノ used of boy-cunt, boy-pussy, pussy, cunt, ノ slight degration ノ slight praise ノsquirting ノ reader being described as smaller than alhaitham ) — 1.7k wc 𐂯 ‧₊˚
૮꒰ྀི∩ ∩ྀི꒱ა ゙ ✿ angel notes ! . . . i want him so bad fr
fem aligned & mdni blogs dni.
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“uhmm… s- so how do we do the project?” alhaitham looked under him, there was a male that seemed to be trembling. (Name) knew he was fucked, he knew he was fucked when the teacher called his name and alhaithams to be partners. Alhaitham looked at him with a strict gaze making the boy flinch. (Name) is scared of him solely because well (name) sucked at everything. Sports, academics, or anything else and Alhaitham? He's practically good at everything.
(Name) is a loser whilst alhaitham was on top of the food chain. Thus the reason why (name) is scared of him, alhaitham closed his book as he looked at (name) directly in the eye making him awkwardly smile, “meet me in the library, exactly later at 5pm, don't think about getting late,” (name) vigorously nodded his head as alhaitham took his back and left the class. The smaller male let out a sigh he didn’t know he was holding. “That was so scary…” he muttered to himself pretty shaken up.
Meanwhile with alhaitham he couldn’t help but let out a perverted like smirk as he looked down at his book, fuck the scared looked you just had. The awkward smile and the eyes looking everywhere just to not look at him, so cute. You just looked so tender and delicate. A sore loser in the corner of the room and him, an intimidating nerd. He blushed a little bit remembering how he looked intensely on your neck whilst in class. It looks so flawless he just wanted to mark it as if it’s his own territory.
That’ll scare you for sure, oh god you just don’t know how he wanna recreate the erotic scenes he has read in his erotic book. It may look like he’s reading something intelligent but no, it’s just the cover. You don’t know how many erotic books he has read and imagine the two characters as you two. How he will practically drool at how the words explained in great detail about how two of the character fucked imagine it was him doing those filthy things on you. Such a cute loser all for him. So cute and so small fuck he’s drooling again. Swiping away the drool he continued to walk to his next class excited about the time you two will meet. Whilst you dread he seemed to be ecstatic.
Hours passed, classes were done and now you're here in the empty library all on your own. Everyone seemed to have gone home or in their dorm. The library seemed to be empty as you hugged your backpack tightly. You almost looked like a sad wet kitten waiting for its owner to come back. A loud thud echoed in the room, it was al haytham and a lot of books in the table were placed he looked down at you. “Go on, do your research.”
His commanding voice said, making you immediately pick up one of the books and start reading the book, as you continued your research. Alhaithams eyes are practically glued on you looking at your hand how your fingers hugged that bag of yours earlier, would you hug him tightly if he pounded on you? ah fuck, he feels himself getting hard. He sigh irritatingly which made you mistaken he was irritated at you. You ducked your head on the book as he smirked seeing this. How adorable it was for you to hide your head like that like an adorable animal trying to hide from danger.
“hmm…” he hummed as he thought, slowly he started creeping up behind you as he wrapped his hands on your waist, “listen.” You stopped reading as you felt his hands on your waist, you squealed as you glanced behind him, as he smirked even more. It was such a cute display it's so cute, “I’ll do all the work you’ll just let me have your way on you. Is that a good deal?” You furrow your brows thinking of this offer. You blushed slightly thinking about what he will do to you but the offer was tempting, you having to do nothing. This was the last project on chemistry, and maybe with this you can take back your continuous low grades on it. if you just… but isn’t this considered wrong… you tried to rationalise you really did but what broke the straw was, “cmon… I know your suffering from your grades just let me do all the work and be a good boy for me,”
You gulped as you slowly nodded your head, “o- okay, I accept,” you said as you blushed at your words, alhaitham chuckled as he whispers in your ear, “good boy,” with that his hands starts to roam around your body, as he slowly lift up your shirt. “ehh? w- wait someone will—“ you try to reason with him but he only chuckled as he touched your flat chest, admiring the scars to it, “look at this so cute~” he admire it as he starts to slowly circle his fingers around your nipple making you flinch at this.
You let out a whimper as he starts to play with your nipples pinching and circling it making him chuckle, “your so sensitive its almost too adorable,” he whispers as you let out quiet moans, your whole body trembling on how good he played with them. “nng.. ha- ah! ha- haitham… please someone will—“ he stopped playing with your nipples as he took you up to the table making you face him.
“shhhh be quiet or else do you want people to know?” he whispers as his hand trailed over your pants slowly taking it off letting it dangle beneath your feet, revealing your wet core. You looked away feeling your face hot as he chuckled seeing your reaction, his hands slowly making their way to your clit. Rubbing it makes you arch your back, putting a hand on your mouth before you let out a mouth. “Hmm… it seems its not ready yet… let's prepare it more shall we?” your eyes widen at his words as he slowly slid one of his fingers inside.
He groaned as he felt your warm walls hugged his fingers tightly, his thumb pressing down to your clit rubbing it gently as you couldn’t help but moan helplessly completely under his spell. You laid yourself on the table panting and moaning so shamelessly, the way his fingers thrust inside you hitting all your sensitive spots and his thumb pressing down on your clit making you more sensitive. How his kisses on your skins taste so sweet. It's as if he knew your body all this time.
“nng… haah! ah… h- haitham.. someone will nng~! ♡'' you arch your back as he pressed another sweet spot of yours making your boy-pussy flow with more juices on his finger, he smirked as he continued to give hickies on your chest, stomach, neck and more. God this was too good to be true. “ahh.. ‘s good… feels so good haah.. ah~ ♡'' he hummed giggling, “mmhm, just like that~ let yourself go,” with a final finger thrust your back arches as you came. Panting as you looked at the ceiling in a daze.
Alhaitham looked at your daze expression with a smirk amused at how adorable you look, its just what he imagined. How you would look like a drooling mess underneath him so cute, so dazed so out of it. Too bad he didn’t came yet. His dick throbbed seeing your wet wet boy-cunt, its begging to be fucked at this point. Slowly he took off his pants as he placed his hands on your hips. You looked up at him in confusion though your eyes widen seeing his hard throbbing cock, “h- huh?” before you could utter a word he slammed his hard cock inside of you. Impaling you with his cock.
Your tongue lolled as your back arches moaning as you’ve been filled up with such a huge cock before, “ughh! ah… haah~ ♡'' your eyes turned to hearts as you looked up so out of it. Alhaitham groaned feeling your warms hugged his cock so tightly, its as if asking to not let go at all, “such a tight boy-pussy fuck… I should’ve fuck you long time ago if you were this pent up,” he groaned as he starts moving, his fast and hard pace suprised you as you gripped on the wooden table moaning helplessly.
“nng… ahh! t- too fast! fuwaah… so- someone will hear… sl- slow down please! ah~ ♡'' you moaned helplessly gripping on the wooden table alhaithams hand gripping your hips hard as he placed your ass up, your back arches as your boy-pussy spasm on his cock. Alhaitham let out guttural moans as he continued to thrust inside of you, “f- fuck… such a tight boy-cunt fuck just for me…” he whispers as he kissed your neck as you hugged him tightly your hands gripping on his back creating scratches.
“nng~ haah! ah! please.. t- too much! too big!” you whined as his cock hit all your deepest parts, it bulging through your stomach as alhaithams bites and kissed your neck continuously. “Shhh~ just take it like a good slut would ya?” he says mockingly your boy-pussy clenching at his dirty words nodding as you babble more incoherent words, “ah.. nng! mm… haah! fuwah! ha- haitham! ah~ ♡'' you moaned his name like a mantra as he groaned, continuing to thrust inside your spasming boy-pussy gripping on your hip that’ll surely leave a mark.
Lewd squelching sound filled the empty the library as you try to warn him that you about to cum but you couldn’t due to the overwhelming pleasure your back arched as you looked up, your pussy squirting all over his cock as his eyes widened at this. You just squirted, you squirted. With a few final thrust he groaned as he cums inside of you, filling you up. You sigh tiredly as you pant.
“fuck… I should fuck you more often,”
He said in a serious tone, making your eyes widen, he smirked, “don’t worry I’ll do everything for you so just be good ‘kay?”
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aestrayla · 3 months
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cherries or peaches? ft. obey me! brothers
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summary: do they prefer ass or boobs? ft. obey me! brothers x f!reader
cw: highly suggestive, mdni, fluff??, pet names (darling, sweetheart), fondling, groping, MY HUMOUR..
word count: 1.5k
a/n: sorry for some of them being so short, it was actually kind of challenging trying to elaborate on the ideas rather than just plainly stating them out as they are, but i hope u still enjoy them just as much as i enjoyed writing them ^^ also, don't mind my shitty humour in the last two + i haven’t written for most of these characters before so they might sound off idk??
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at first, it was hard to tell whether lucifer preferred ass or boobs.
he would always reply to you with a, "i prefer them both, equally," or a, "why should i choose when i can like them both?"
it drove you crazy because you clearly asked him to choose either one or the other. he was always dodging the question and at some point, you even got the brothers in on this, some bets were made too.
"it's obvious he likes ass more, have you seen the way he looks at y/n when they're wearing that skirt he bought for them?"
"nah he totally like boobs more, he can't keep his eyes off ‘em whenever they're wearin' a tight shirt!"
soon you started to take these signs into account, wearing much more revealing things to try and catch a reaction out of him, but to your demise, he never seemed to crack.
after weeks of bet-making and skin-revealing lucifer had finally had enough. the two of you were both lying in bed, facing one another while his arms were wrapped around your waist.
"y/n," he whispered.
"mhm?" you hummed in response.
"isn't it obvious i like these better?"
he pulled himself closer to you as his face buried against your chest. oh you thought. he had always found comfort sleeping against you like this, his head stuffed between your boobs while his arms wrapped around you tightly, that it became natural and you had almost forgot he did it.
"shit— you should've told me earlier! now we've all lost our bets to mammon!" you whined.
you could hear his muffled chuckles vibrate against your body as you wrapped your arms around his head, squeezing him closer.
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mammon is 100% an ass-loving guy, no questions asked.
with mammon, no matter what you're doing, what you're wearing, where you are, or who you're with, he just loves touching you all the damn time.
whether you're walking through the halls of RAD to your next class or taking a stroll through the devildom while window shopping, he won't hesitate to sneak his hands up your skirt to feel your plump ass.
"mammon stop, we're in public!" you glare as you swat his hands away.
"’m sorry can't help it, just gotta have my hands all over ya!"
oh well, maybe next time he’d be lucky enough to sneak his hands further down your skirt and— who knows, you might just find yourself begging him for more.
and if it's just the two of you in your own company, you'll always find that his hands like to slip past the waistband of your panties just to lay onto your cheeks, rubbing and squeezing at the plump flesh. always smiling in delight as you squirm under his carnal touch.
as much as you like to complain, he always swears that "it's just comfortable!" or "my hands were just cold!"
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there is no doubt in my mind that leviathan wouldn't be on team cherries.
he always lets you sit on his lap whenever he's grinding a video game or on an anime-watching marathon. a recent occurrence you've taken note of is that, almost as if it's a reflex, he'll always end up having a hand or two resting on your boobs, casually squeezing at it as if he owns the thing.
"you must be real comfortable there, levi." you teased, motioning to where his hand laid.
"huh— OH! um, I-I'M SORRY I DIDN'T MEAN TO!" he shot his hands up in defense. "it's just really soft… and warm... I'm sorry y/n." his face was bright red.
"it's fine, i was just teasing you, silly!"
there was also a time where you scolded levi for owning one of those mouse pads where ruri-chan’s the characters boobs would be squishy.
in desperate need to make it up to you, he custom ordered a version with you on it, only because he swears out of all his waifus, you're his absolute favourite.
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it was a rainy night, and in the comfort of the library beside a crackling fireplace, you were messing around on your d.d.d while satan was next to you, reading what you assumed to be a mystery book.
"hey satan?" you put your d.d.d down for a moment, turning to look at him.
"hm?" he hummed, while keeping his eyes glued to the page.
"do you prefer ass or boobs?"
he pauses to look up at you and closes his book, placing it beside him, all while sighing.
"what does it look like i prefer?" he deadpans.
you break his eye contact as you look down to see his left hand buried under your sweater, which was fondling with your boob this entire time.
"so... boobs?"
he replies while picking his book up again, "yes darling, don't ask such foolish questions."
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asmo loves boobs. your boobs to be specific.
don't blame him, your boobs are just so pretty and he loves pretty things.
the way they sit when you're wearing a low-cut garment, or the way they shine when you're having a bubble bath together. he loves it all.
as you know, asmo loves pampering you and surprises you with random gifts whenever he finds something that he'd love to see you in.
one night as he's doing your hair after a bath, he suddenly remembers something and stands to walk to his closet.
"the other day when i was shopping at majolish, i found this super pretty bra i thought you'd look just gorgeous in!" he approaches you with a box wrapped neatly with a ribbon.
as you open the box, you set your eyes on a beautiful red laced bra.
"are you sure i'd look good in this?"
"you look perfect in everything sweetheart, you know i’d never lie about that."
he's always buying you pretty things to wear, and trust me when i say, this definitely isn’t the first bra he's ever gotten you.
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beel could not care less about choosing between your ass or boobs. they're both squishy and feel nice in his hands so it didn't really matter to him. well, not until today.
getting up from the edge of the bed and turning your heel to face him, you asked, "did you know a new cafe opened up in the devildom recently?"
"really? what food do they sell there?" he asked, his eyes looked as if there were stars in them.
"well apparently their cakes are a specialty, they're pretty popular for it."
"cake?" he drooled, "i love cake! hey we should go to the cafe right now, i'm starving." he sat up from the edge of the bed, drooling like a puppy dog.
little did he know, you decided to be a little jokester today.
"oh you're starving right now? then here," you turn around, bending over.
"what are you doing y/n?"
you turn your head back to look at his confused expression, "you said you were starving right? the cake's right here," you pointed to your ass.
he stares at you for a moment. then at your ass. then back at you again.
"so there's no cafe, is there?" he wipes his drool away with the back of his hand.
"nope. but there sure is cake," you smile cheekily while shuffling closer.
he sighs while grabbing ahold of your thighs, dragging you just inches away from his lips, "you're lucky i like this kind of cake too."
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as long as he can sleep on them, belphie will like them no matter what. so when it comes to choosing between your ass or boobs, it can be a hard decision just to choose one.
belphie's "sleepability" criteria is: soft, warm and comfortable; and your boobs and ass were equal competition.
he sighs, "if i have to choose one over the other, i'd rather sleep on your ass all day" his reasoning being because your ass has more of an "even surface" compared to your boobs.
if you're ever just lounging around the house of lamentation, on your stomach specifically, within seconds you'll feel belphie's arms wrap around your legs while he lays his head onto you.
its crazy how instantly he falls asleep on you. he'd stay like that forever if you didn't have to get up to pee or because your legs fall numb.
"c'mon belphie, i needa pee so bad!" you squirm.
"mmmphh," he grumbles, half-asleep, while hugging onto your legs even tighter.
"hurry up or i'll fart on your face!" you threaten him jokingly.
"OKAY, OKAY!" he shoots up from his position and is scrambling to the edge of the bed. you laugh in response because it works every time.
"and i was having a good dream too!" he scowled, while rubbing his left eye from sleep.
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lmk if u guys want a part two ft. the datables!
©2023 aestrayla. do not modify, copy, translate or share.
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evansbby · 8 months
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another sugar daddy Ari 🫣🥵✨✨
18+ minors dni, daddy kink, age gap, smut
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Ari wasn’t a conventional sugar daddy by any means. Well, what was a conventional sugar daddy, anyways? You wouldn’t know, because this was the first time you’d ever been in an arrangement like this. You didn’t know what you expected when you signed the contract. But it’s not like you were complaining…
You weren’t complaining when he made you sit on his lap while he kissed you everywhere. Slowly, sensually, petting you like you were his little toy, while he asked you questions about your life.
“Are you enjoying college?” While he sucked on your neck.
“Tell me about your parents, how are they doing?” While he peppered kisses along your jaw.
“What extra-curriculars are you taking this semester?” As he kissed your cheek and cooed at you.
You’d tell him, being as animated as possible because he seemed to like how chatty you were. And he’d play with your hair and caress you everywhere and put his hands up your skirt or play with your bra strap. It was like you were a delectable meal that he was playing with, and he enjoyed teasing himself almost as much as he enjoyed teasing you.
“Baby, you didn’t spend any of your allowance this week.” Ari inquires one day, frowning as he enters your apartment. Well, the luxury penthouse apartment he was paying for, but he liked to call it yours and you liked having a place of your own so you never corrected him. Not that he’d appreciate you correcting him on anything anyways. Men and their egos…
You shrug, sitting up on the couch where you’d been waiting for him. He’d texted you earlier informing you that he’d cleared his schedule to meet you for lunch. And of course, you assumed lunch was code for sex, which was why you were clad in only a pretty pink lingerie set with silky ribbons and bows, along with a pair of pink high heels which Ari already couldn’t take his eyes off of.
“Sorry, daddy, I just didn’t feel like shopping.”
You cross and uncross your legs, looking up at him and biting your lip. How can you tell your sugar daddy that there’s only so many new dress, shoes or purses you can purchase in a week?
Ari huffs, “I’m gonna have to start punishing you if you don’t spend your weekly allowance, sweetheart.”
But he’s already unbuckling his belt, which makes lick your lips excitably. You’d only been in this arrangement with him for a month and a half, but he’d already got you addicted to his dick. And his mouth. His tongue. His hands…
Ari was so different from the college boys you were used to. Not only was he older, mature, experienced in how to please women, but he was also just… so rugged. And tough. Rough around the edges, so to speak. With his mane of long hair, his bristly beard and wild eyes, he was incredibly virile, handsome, and quite frankly, every girl’s wet dream.
In his 40s, he was now the big CEO hotshot of some huge company. But he’d worked for the government when he was younger, going out on international missions and doing all that dangerous, top secret stuff. But that was all he ever told you about that, and yet you could see it on his face, everything he’d been through and the things he’d seen.
He was hot-headed, impulsive and he took what he wanted when he wanted it. You weren’t complaining, because it made for some fantastic, mind-blowing sex.
Like when he’d taken you out to dinner but midway through the meal he’d decided he’d rather devour you instead, and so he’d pulled you into his lap right there and fucked you gently while he fed you pieces of steak. Luckily, the two of you were in a corner booth. Unluckily, most of the wait-staff had seen, but Ari left them a hefty tip to make sure they never mentioned it again.
Or the time he’d come to pick you up from campus, only to see you talking to one of the boys from your history class. That was the day you’d found out how jealous Ari Levinson was capable of being. He’d slung you over his lap and spanked your ass raw for the better part of the journey home. His limo driver had drawn the partition, and you’d cried until your daddy pulled you upright, kissed your face and told you it way okay.
Or, the time you’d forgot to call him daddy during sex once, which was very much against the rules. Ari wanted you to call him daddy and nothing else when inside the bedroom. Which was why he’d tied you up and aggressively licked your cunt till your legs were shaking and you were on the brink of passing out, and the only word you were able to utter was “daddy.”
Back in the present, Ari allows his pants to drop to the floor along with his boxers, and he gives you a meaningful look.
“Daddy’s had a long day and wants you to suck his dick, sweetheart.”
You sink down to your knees, trying to be sexy about it and you know he appreciates that. You love how he can’t take his eyes off your body, how the lingerie hugs your curves and pushes your breasts up. How tantalising your cleavage looks, especially with you on your knees in front of him. You know Ari loves your body, and loves buying you pretty, revealing things so he can show you off to all his friends and colleagues.
You grab hold of his big dick, throat already hurting at the thought of having that inside your mouth. You loved his dick because it was pretty and brought you so much pleasure, but it was also so insanely big, and Ari loved to make you choke on it. Which happened every time you gave him a blowjob because you still weren’t used to his size, and he preferred you taking all of it in till you couldn’t breathe. You knew he loved it when you couldn’t breathe, when his enormous dick was suffocating you…
“And then after you do that, you’re going to sit on my lap and scroll through my phone till you’ve found some nice things to spend your allowance on. Got that, gorgeous?”
You nod submissively, and Ari smirks. He’s still got his belt in his hand and he loops it around your neck, tightening it till it’s incredibly snug. And just being there, by his feet with a makeshift leash around your neck gets you wetter than it should.
“Such a good little girl,” Ari grunts, grabbing a fistful of your hair as you take his cock into your mouth. Giving Ari a blowjob is always a messy affair, and soon enough, he’s thrusting in and out of your mouth at top speed, muttering profanities while he orders you to keep your eyes on his.
He rubs his dick all over your face, smearing your cheeks and nose with his precum and your own spit. He slaps you across the face with his cock, chuckling breathlessly when you pout because he knows how wet it gets you. And he grabs your hair, pushing you down till your deep-throating him, your nose pressed against his pelvis till you can’t breathe and you begin to flail your limbs.
But his belt around your neck keeps you in place, as does his constant praises “What a good little girl,” “daddy loves how well you take my dick,” “you’re so good for me, baby. So sexy and cute when you’ve got my dick down your throat.”
He cums on your face and doesn’t let you clean it off. He tells you that you look beautiful like this, and then, true to his word, sits you down on his lap and hands you his phone. You scroll through one expensive brand website after another, all while he plays with your lingerie, petting and kissing you how he loves to, and telling you how sexy you are with his cum on your face.
“Sweetheart, if it was up to me, I’d have you in nothing except covered in diamonds, and my cum on your face.”
He immediately orders you an expensive pair of diamond earrings from Cartier (as if you haven’t already got two whole jewellery boxes full of diamonds and pearls and sapphire and what not — all from Ari of course). And then he insists that the earrings were his gift to you, and that you still need to spend your allowance.
After a lot of pouting and grumbling, and some reprimanding smacks to your bottom later, you’ve let him buy you two Chanel handbags, a dress from Versace’s newest Resort collection (not even in stores yet, but Ari had his connections), as well as five new pairs of shoes (all high heels, of course).
“Now was that so hard, baby?”
“I guess not. But I’m gonna run out of space soon, with all the things you keep buying me.”
Ari scoffs, “I have another apartment in the upper east side. You can use it as your shoe closet.”
“You’re really into the heels, aren’t you, daddy?” You tease, twirling your bare legs in the air, your heels catching the light and you feel Ari getting hard again. He grabs your ankle suddenly, pressing kisses up your calf while you gasp and squirm in his lap. His bonded digs at your ass and his hands fondle you everywhere, tugging at your lingerie before he abruptly stops himself.
“Baby, go wait for me inside the bedroom. Everything off except the shoes. And lie on the bed for me with your legs spread out.”
You raise an eyebrow, “That’s awfully specific, daddy—OW!”
He smacks your ass four times in quick succession.
“Go. Now. I’ve got the rest of the day off and daddy plans to fuck your little pussy till I’ve had my fill. Which won’t be any time soon, so take a couple of bottles of water with you too.”
***
JSJDSJSKSKSK THE END IDK I AM IN SYCH A SUGAR DADDY ARI MOOD BYE.
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hanahaki270 · 3 days
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♡ Sharing a Dorm ♡
♡・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・♡
Synopsis ┊Your dorm is going under renovation and you need to find a place to crash in for a while. Luckily a certain someone offers you to stay in theirs for the time being.
Characters ┊Katsuki Bakugou, Shoto Todoroki, Izuku Midoriya.
A/N ┊beginner Writer here, these were harder to think of than I thought ngl. If you have any requests please send them to me, I'm open to do different characters and also different anime's!
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♡・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・♡
Katsuki Bakugou
❥ By no means whatsoever does he offer his dorm out of the kindness of his heart. He just got pissed off of seeing you sleeping on the couch in the commons area every morning, and accidentally stepping on your blanket or pillows. After stepping on your blanket once more he grabs your shit and puts it in his dorm and acts like he's bothered by this but really he doesn't mind at all.
❥ Makes you sleep on the floor for the first two nights until you convince him to share the bed. He's reluctant at first but then allows it as long as you stay on your side of the bed. Do you really though?
❥ Expect to sleep earlier and get your sleep schedule in check because his dorm, his rules, lights are off at ten pm sharp with no exceptions.
❥ Also expect your grades to go up. While he's your roommate he's going to make you don't slack off on your studies.
❥ When he wakes up in the morning and notices your head resting on his chest he gets somewhat annoyed but secretly likes it. he's willing to get behind on his strict schedule and let you rest on him a little longer. but just a little.
❥ Demands you now be his training partner but is careful to not get carried away. You're strong, but he still doesn't want to run the risk of hurting you. therefore, he always keeps Aid kits in the bathroom just in case you do get any scratches, even if they're minor.
❥ Constantly threatening to kick you out over every little thing but actually has no intention of doing so. He won't admit it but he enjoys your company. "I swear if I see one more sock lying around I'm grabbing your shit and throwing it out."
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♡・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・♡
Shoto Todoroki
❥ "Why don't you sleep with me." he said boldly unaware of how his sentence had more than one connotation to it. I mean you need help and as your friend he's more than willing to help you out. plus he has the biggest dorm compared to everyone else, if anything he's the most suitable to offer his help he thought.
❥ Asks you what temperature you prefer to sleep in so he can use his quirk to either make the room colder or warmer depending on your preference. and ALWAYS makes sure to make both sides of your pillows cold.
❥ When he's out visiting his mother you make sure the place is clean (though it usually is since he tends to be on the neater side) and prepare some soba for him as a token of your appreciation. After a couple of times he starts to look forward for it and got saddened the one day you forgot.
❥ In return he made sure not turn on the lights when getting ready in the morning as to not wake you up. Part of it was for a selfish reason though, he thought it was cute how you slept soundly on his bed.
❥ Speaking about sleep; During the night he would find himself cozying up next to you, not on purpose though. He just felt comfort in your presence and he realized you felt the same way when you also moved closer to him during the night.
❥ Leaves out coffee for you in the mornings since you tend to stay up late on nights and wake up always running late to your classes.
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♡・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・♡
Izuku Midoriya
❥ Overheard you talking to Tsuyu and Uraraka about how you need a place to sleep in and walked over to offer his help without a second thought. You already spend most of your time in his dorm room during the day to share notes anyways. The only difference would just be you spending the night.
❥ Offers for you to sleep in his bed while he sleeps on the floor. After you refuse to let him sleep on the floor he shyly agrees to share the bed with you constantly asking you if you're okay with it.
❥ Midoriya stays up late at night writing in his notebook and murmuring thoughts to himself. You persuade him to go to bed and leave his worries for the following day. he deeply apologizes for the burden kind of embarrassed. "I-I'm sorry! was I keeping you up? I'll go to bed in a few minutes don't worry."
❥ Always invites you to go out with him whenever he leaves the dorm, even if it's something as simple as going to the gas station to get some snacks.
❥ he loves to talk your ear off geeking out about the knowledge he knows about the top heroes and their quirks. When he notices he got carried away he gets all types of flustered but even then he doesn't get the sense of being judged.
❥ Since he's constantly getting injured and going to see Recovery girl he always comes back exhausted. regardless, his stubborn ass still tries to go out on missions and push himself to the limits. he get's frustrated when you don't let him do so and force him to rest and leave his chores to you. But he loves you for it.
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rinkkuma · 1 month
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୨୧ VALENTINE'S DAY WITH BLUE LOCK BOYS
ft. isagi yoichi, reo mikage, rin itoshi, nagi seishiro, & chigiri hyoma
tags. highschool au, established relationships, gn!reader, a bit of cussing, all fluff ! / author's note. just some cheesy highschool romance! sorry they're a little short, but i hope you enjoy nonetheless ^_^
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ISAGI plans a date after school, and he cannot stop thinking about it throughout the whole school day. from when school starts to the final release bell. jumping for joy when it finally rings. he immediately sprints to your class to come pick you up, and the two of you begin walking to your destination. he takes you on a date to a nearby café that had a valentine's event going on. the café is decked out in an obscene amount of pink and red decorations that would've made your head hurt if there were more. of course, he lets you order whatever you like and pays for it. (he also feeds you whatever you ordered with a big grin on his face) afterwards, he surprises you with a flower bouquet and whatever you've been ranting about wanting for the past few months. an absolute sweetheart!
REO puts his gift into a large box. why? it's too large to the point where you can't fit it into your locker, so it forces you to carry it around all day so that everyone will know you're his. writes “from: reo” in big letters on all sides of the box so people can see from every angle. yeah, reo has been planning this for the past few months. honestly, the box is so big to the point that it's a little embarrassing to bring it into your classes, and some of your teachers question you. he makes it up to you because of how amazing his gift was. a bouquet with your favorite flowers, a stuffed animal, a gorgeous and one-of-a kind necklace, and a photo book with memories from the very beginning of your relationship. spoils you with lots of kisses all over your face as well.
RIN shyly buys one of those valentine's day candy grams that a club is selling. and no, it is absolutely not because he's scared to give it to you directly. just kidding, he is. this was the first time he was actually giving something to someone for valentine's day and he did not want to mess it up, so to be safe he decided to buy one and have the club deliver it. after you receive it though, he immediately runs to your class, asking if you liked it. he mumbles an apology for not giving it to you face to face, but you pull him into a kiss to reassure him that it was more than okay.
NAGI conveniently has first period with you, so he takes this to his full advantage. arrives to school earlier than you and puts his plan into action. bangs politely knocks on the classroom door before the teacher hesitantly lets him in 2 minutes later, and puts a shit ton of things on your desk. places a stuffed animal on your seat, a basket with your favorite snacks (with the addition of a few valentine's themed candies), and a heartfelt (and surprisingly neat) letter. nagi patiently waits for you to walk in. staring at the door and being disappointed when someone walks in and it's not you. when you finally arrive though, he is holding back a smile and looks away nonchalantly, acting like you had not walked into class. you make your way to your desk, already seeing the various gifts on your desk before placing your gift for nagi on his desk. he finally lets the breath out that he didn't know he was holding, and gives you a bear hug. (you almost sit on the plushie on your seat because of how small it was)
CHIGIRI dramatically sighs when you greet him in the morning with a smile on your face and a gift bag in your hand. why did he sigh dramatically, you ask? in your mind, you thought it was obvious that you two would be each other's valentine since you are dating, so you never formally asked him. yes, chigiri could've easily taken things into his own hands and asked you, but he chickened out every time he was going to ask you. yes, he could've just texted you, but he believed that was the wimpy way out. you give him a puzzled look as you hand him your gift, asking him what was up. he looks down as he mumbles, “youdidn'taskmetobeyourvalentine..” as he rubs the back of his neck. you laugh before you give him a smile and say, “chigiri, we've been together for a while. i thought it was a given that we were each other's valentine.”
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inspired by this prompt list <3
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jleijl · 8 months
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MADE WITH LOVE
summary: when your comedically unfortunate timings catch the attention of nagi, he finds himself becoming enamored— so decides to make you a gift with 100% of his effort.. and love.
warnings: fluff lol, reo’s number 1 wingman, oblivious to feelings nagi, it's long i didn't mean for it to be this long..
A/N: inspired by @noomon’s list of nagi ideas where nagi tries to learn one of ur hobbies but he sucks but make it um. gifting. thx to ellie for beta reading this thats the only reason i got it done tn😭
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“i hate this.”
the scent of flour hangs in the air and paints nagi’s clothing.
“don’t give up now nagi,” reo frowns and pats the dejected boy on his shoulder. “think about y/n’s reaction once you give her this!”
if you were to compare reo’s sparkling excitement to nagi’s radiating dread, one would have thought it was reo’s suggestion to make you a gift. lo and behold, it was nagi’s idea.
“i give up,” nagi slumps back into his chair, abandoning the dough he had been kneading for a solid two minutes. “think i’ll just buy some bread.” reo shakes his head and pulls the boy back up, causing a small groan to leave nagi.
“then it’s pointless nagi. you’re putting in your love and effort! there’s no nagi love in convenience store bread,” the younger boy tuts and pats the side of the bowl. “besides, you’re almost done with the hardest part.”
nagi goes back to kneading and brooding. making bread was indubitably harder than playing football, he notes to himself. everything was usually a piece of cake for him, and everything usually turned out fine when he puts a half-assed effort into it.
so why, he’s wondering to himself, is he struggling so much with your gift?
if you were to ask reo, he would have the right answer—it’s because nagi’s actually trying.
the first time nagi and reo saw you, it was on their way to school early in the morning. almost comically, you suddenly appear around a corner, rushing past them with a single piece of toast in your mouth.
“ah,” nagi points. “like an anime character.”
reo looks in the direction of nagi’s finger and before they know it, you’re gone. he laughs and agrees before the two go on with the rest of their day.
it doesn’t cross either of their minds until you’re running around at school yet again with a baked bun in your mouth. only this time, it’s straight into their morning class.
laughter erupts through the entire classroom at your late entrance, reo included. but reo also notices how nagi stares instead of sleeping, how his stare follows you, moving haphazardly into your seat. you’re struggling with your bags and books, papers and pens flying everywhere.
you really are like a character out of the mangas he reads, nagi thinks. a smile ghosts across his lips.
nagi doesn’t fall asleep in any of the classes you’re in.
reo soon realizes, long before nagi, that the snow-haired boy was suffering from a crush. reo also realizes that without his help, nagi would never comprehend this fact.
and so here they were on a sunday evening.
“is the timer done yet..”
“if it was done, you’d be hearing it,” reo deadpans. “besides, you were the one who wanted to make y/n fresh bread,” he shifts his body. “you like her?”
nagi’s face remains the same but his hands stop moving.
“no.”
“you do too.”
“nuh-uh.”
the younger scoffs and scrolls through his playlist.
“so you just make homemade bread for anybody?”
nagi resumes kneading, though his eyes are now glued to the bowl instead of reo. avoiding eye contact, a habit of nagi’s when he’s lying.
“no. just worried for her,” he prods the dough mindlessly. “store bread doesn’t taste good.”
“thought you wanted to buy some earlier,” reo recalls. “would you make me bread?”
“no.”
“wha-? hey!”
nagi snorts at his best friend’s annoyed tone.
“you can ‘fford private chefs.. think you can buy fresh bread yourself.”
reo rolls his eyes but a small part of him is glad that nagi really did like you. there was finally something other than football that nagi was passionate about.
it feels like ages before the dough is in the oven, leaving an exhausted nagi to collapse onto reo’s couch. he hates the ache in his arms, he hates the powder dusting his torso, and he hates how out of breath he is.
but when he closes his eyes and his thoughts wander to your beaming face, eyes twinkling with excitement at the sight of his freshly made gift, his arm rests on his face to hide an oncoming blush.
the work wasn’t too bad, he decides.
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it’s early morning when nagi decides to go to class. it’s so early in fact, that he has to text reo to not pick him up like how he usually does (which was prompted with a ‘WHAT?’ followed by a surplus of messages that nagi chooses to ignore.)
in truth, he woke up early to warm up the bread so that you could have a hot breakfast. but due to his poor foresight (and not that he was in a hurry to see you!), he’s in his wooden seat staring out the window, thirty minutes early.
a sigh escapes him as he hugs the loaf of bread inside his forever-unbuttoned blazer to keep it warm. the feeling of embarrassment slowly creeps up onto him and he’s glad there’s no one there to see how much of a lovestruck idiot he looked like in that moment. he needed the alone time to figure out how he would give it to you, anyway.
it’s not until then that he comes to the revelation that he’s never uttered a word to you, and he starts to think that handing a stranger food wasn’t his brightest idea. and for once, he absolutely hates that he’s an outcast— he curses to himself, hoping that the ‘weirdo’ rumors about him hadn’t reached your ears. but when his body is sweating and heating up from hugging your precious present close, he knows it’s too late to back out.
the next half hour, he decides, is now dedicated to calming himself down, to compose himself before seeing your face. he figures he’ll have an extra ten minutes after class starts until you arrive, considering your perfect history of tardiness. and probably the rest of the class, since he can’t talk to you in the middle of a lesson. and… at this point, he’s coming up with excuses to prolong his encounter with you.
so it’s to his surprise when the door bursts open while your panting, heaving figure is tripod-ing at the classroom entrance, leaving nagi’s jaw to hang at the unexpected intrusion. your timing is always comedically horrid.
“hah.. n-nagi.?”
he stills like a deer in headlights— your words are so shaky that nagi isn’t sure if he heard them correctly, that you actually knew his name. upon hearing his lack of response, you swallow and collapse onto the floor.
“didn’t think i’d see.. anybody here! at this time!” you’re bright, a harsh contrast to the cloudy sky by his side and the mess of a state you’re in. he unfreezes and looks at you curiously, though his lips are still sealed shut.
he’s only heard your voice a couple of times, the few being when you’re called on in a lecture. your responses usually consisted of “ums” and “ahs,” but your answers were always cheerful and full of confidence, even when they were completely wrong. nagi really liked that about you.
“you alright?”
there wasn’t anything in your mouth today, but he’s too nervous to ask.
“y..yeah!” you’re grinning now, accentuating the rosiness of your cheeks. he wonders if you were flushed from the running, or if you put on extra blush today. he likes it, either way. “i’m finally early today!”
“yeah.. you woke up on time?”
“i always wake up super early actually,” standing up, you dust off your uniform and make your way to your seat, just two rows behind him diagonally. “‘cause i gotta, urgh, help my parents with their convenience store!” you’re tugging at your bag’s strap that stuck on a nearby table. he shifts in his seat to watch.
“so.. how are you early today?” nagi’s glad your attention is directed on the unbudging bag— he wouldn’t be able to hold a coherent conversation with you otherwise.
“they felt bad once the school sent home, like, ten million notices about my tardiness,” you’re pulling with all of your body weight now. “ugh— so! they told me to just go to class today, but that means i woke up early for no reason! and i ran here out of habit.”
he isn’t sure what comes over him; maybe it’s your struggle that bothers him, or maybe he wants you to look at him, but nagi gets up to unhook your bag from its situation. there’s only a brief glance thrown your way but he coughs to hide his amusement when he catches your astonished face.
“wow, you’re good! you’re not at all weird like what other people say,” you hug your bag and place it down by your seat, where it’s supposed to be. “except for whatever you’re hiding in your uniform right now. what’s in there?”
fuck.
he had completely forgotten about the bump protruding from his stomach. the bread’s warmth suddenly feels scorching to the touch, now that you’re really staring at him with big, curious eyes.
“ah.. ‘ts nothin’.”
“come on, let me see!”
he doesn’t expect you to come so close so really, it can’t be blamed when he stumbles back and accidentally drops your gift. conveniently right onto the floor, open for the world (you) to see. a wave of embarrassment washes over him when you squat down and stare, both at him on the floor and the loaf of bread.
“you hungry or something?”
he groans and lets his back fall back toward the ground.
“no. ‘ts not for me,” he’s burning a hole into the ceiling with his eyes.
“for birds?”
“no.”
“dogs?”
“no..”
“reo?”
he groans at the sound of his best friend’s name leaving your lips.
“for you.”
you’re barely able to hear the two mumbled words as he hides his face. your gaze flickers from him to the bread. him to the bread. him, to the bread, to your knees.
for you?
nagi still doesn’t look at you, or the ceiling for that matter, opting to bury his face in his sleeves instead. he doesn’t realize that you’re now hovering over his gift.
“did you buy it on the way here?”
“made it.”
he hears the crinkle of plastic, which gives him the courage to take a peek at you picking up the baked good. there’s a feeling inside him he can’t quite pinpoint when you’re holding it close to you– like he’s the one you’re holding close to your heart instead. maybe it’s own wishful thinking.
“i didn’t take you for a baker.”
“‘m not. i just,” he sits up and crosses his legs. “just wanted you to have some fresh bread. not the store stuff you always have in the morning.”
his breath hitches when you sit down right in front of him, knees touching his. he stares at your lap, where the bread resides.
“you were worried about me?” your leg bounces a little, in happiness he assumes.
“a little.”
when he looks up, he’s met with your shining smile, one that he wants to engrain into his mind. 
“i didn’t take you for a worrier, either.” he looks away.
“‘m not.”
“y’know nagi,” he can’t keep his eyes off you, his eyes trailing back to your figure at the sound of your voice. you’re tearing off chunks of the loaf, popping it straight into your mouth. he watches, a little too intently, but you’re too busy eating to see. “i was in such a rush this morning, i completely forgot to eat.” you talk with your mouth open, he notices. “you’re my savior.”
your tongue glides over the bottom of your lips to clean the crumbs and he has to avert his gaze again. 
“is it good?”
“really, really, good. i seriously might hate you once i finish this.”
he bites back a small smile upon hearing your whine.
“ah?”
your fingers tap his right knee, a simple touch that he knows means nothing more than your inability to sit still, but it still sets his heart racing. 
“i’ll never be able to go back to the bread from the store now.” you groan and drop your head right into his lap. you’re trying to kill him, he’s convinced. “you’re the worst, nagi.”
hesitance instructs his movements, showing itself through the awkward movement of his fingers and the way his hand hovers over your head for a minute too long. 
“can make you more.. if you want.” rigidly, his hand strokes your head. you jolt straight up and he’s afraid that somehow, he had hurt or scared you, but your eyes shine once more with that innocent excitement.
“you serious? promise?”
there’s not a chance he can say no when faced with the expression on your face right now. it’s like his body moves on its own when he nods his head right away. your lips curve up to form a smile and open to say something before the chime of the morning bell cuts you short. it isn’t long before students are streaming in, forcing you two to scramble back into your desks off the floor.
he can’t help but feel a little disappointed but he brushes it off– he had done more than he wanted.
ten minutes pass before a note is passed onto his desk.
“come with me after school to my parent’s store!! i’ll treat you!” it reads in swirly writing with no name signed, but he knows better.
it was a gift and you shouldn’t be giving him anything back, he thinks. but being handed the opportunity to spend more time with you on a silver platter, how can he say no?
it’s the least he can get in return for all his hard work.
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hisbitchhh · 3 months
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☆HIGHSCHOOL MEMORIES☆ SATORU GOJO X READER
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Genre: crack, heartbreak (no comfort), fem! Reader, reader having something near the same personality as Gojo
Notes: Just a few flashbacks from Gojo and Y/n's high school years together! (This isn't proofread y'all, so please, don't mind my mess of commas.🤕✊🏼)
LISTEN WHILE READING!
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"Gojooooooooo, Satoruuuuuuu!!!!" You called as you raced toward him and Geto at full speed, grinning like a maniac. Geto looked back, a slightly fearful look on his face as he saw the quick speed your legs were going. You could even see the animated bead of sweat on his head as he tapped Gojo beside him. The white-haired boy perked up in confusion, but before he could fully turn a yelp left his lips when you continued to run.
"Y/NNNNN!!-- WAIT! MY INFINITY!!!!---" He yelled, screaming bloody murder when you made his bigger body collapse like a weary skyscraper, a groan leaving his lips.
"Senpaiiiii~" You cackled, wrapping your arms around his neck. As he got up with ease, your legs quickly locked around his waist with your chin annoyingly digging into his boney shoulder.
"Sooooooo..." Your eyes moved around the dramatically big campus, unconsciously breathing in the scent of Gojo's strong cologne. "Why are you guys skipping? That's bad y'know."
As a first year compared to them, the pair saw you as a kid-- well a brat to say the least, considering how much you insufferably clung to Gojo and threw random flirty remarks at him whenever he asked why you weren't attending your classes. It ticked you off, and Geto's face showed that he could not take another one of Gojo's clones; A much more immature one at that. Though it wasn't surprising since you were two years younger than them and fresh out of middle school.
"Ya can't say that, Y/n~" Your white-haired senior looked back at you through his sunglasses while flashing you the charming smirk that always made you fold in thirds-- or more. "You're skippin' too."
His fingers meet your forehead in a flick, earning a soft whine and a pout from you. Geto then spoke up, scanning your entire figure clinging to Gojo's body.
"What are you here for, Y/n?" You look over at him, deeply thinking about it before perking up and jumping off of Gojo to walk beside him.
"This pen!" You exclaim with an excited grin, and they both look at you with raised brows. You huff in annoyance, shaking the writing tool in your hand.
"I saw you training with like, a pencil earlier, and I saw you spinning it in your hand. Can you teach me how to spin it? Pleaseee?"
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"And then I was like--" A yelp left your lips as Gojo took a quick bite from your chopsticks, biting them and accidentally tugging you to his side with the grip of his teeth on the wooden utensils, pulling you off of the bench. "Gojo! What the--" A cackle coming from Mei Mei left you speechless, looking to see Shoko and Geto holding back from bursting into a fit of endless laughter. You furrow your brows in confusion, looking over at Mei Mei.
"He's been staring at your food like a predator for the past ten minutes," She chuckled and you raised a brow, looking over at his side to find him not there.
"You could've just ask-- huh?" Your eyes moved around in confusion until you found him hovering over your lunch box to take a piece of melting mochi, letting out a whine when you slammed your chopsticks against his head, unintentionally breaking them on his forehead.
"Keep away from my food!"
"Not before I!!!--" WHACK!
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"Gojo!" Your voice called out as you jogged toward him, waving at him. A smile curled your lips as he turned his head toward you, watching you catch up to him. For some reason he was standing outside of a classroom. That's odd.
Once you caught up you spoke, "What are you doing?" Said senior slid his hands into his pockets, slouching and tapping his foot against the wooden floor. "Jus' waitin' for a friend. What is it, Y/n-san?"
A heat spread across your cheeks and you grinned. "Well I was wondering if you wanted to go with me to this--"
"You ready to go, Satoru?" A feminine voice interrupted your sentence and both you and Gojo's heads turned to the sound.
There stood a girl much taller than you and more mature-looking. Knitting your brows you stared at her, you've never seen her around but she definitely was pretty. Wavy and composed strands of brunette hair adorned her head and shoulders touched up with a small navy blue headband while her lips were pink and glossed, long lashes touched up with just a hint of mascara. Goodness, she was absolutely gorgeous.
Round amber eyes stared at the boy next to you before landing on your own figure, her slightly knitted brows showing confusion as to who you were.
The only questions that floated around your head were, who is she and why was she calling your man by his given name?! The fuck, bitch?
Gojo broke the tension with an awkward chuckle, snaking an arm around the brunette's waist. You watched the simple yet heart-breaking action, shoulders slumping in defeat.
"What were you going to say, Y/n?"
Snapping back into reality you straightened your posture and cleared your throat, looking up at him with a faint smile.
"Oh it was nothing, uh-- don't worry about it."
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"But I don't understand," Your lip quivered, gripping the pillow that you currently hugged. "I've tried everything and it just doesn't work.." A tear trickled down your cheek and you sniffled the snot that was close to leaving your nose.
Shoko gave your shoulder a gentle pat in attempt to comfort you, a sigh leaving her lips.
"There are much better people out there--"
"And he accepts other girls but doesn't accept me when I ask him to go out! What the fuck?!" A loud sob escaped you, hiding your face from the brown haired girl in embarrassment. She stared at you with a small frown while rubbing your back.
"If you really do love the idiot that much, keep trying. I can't exactly do anything about your situation, Y/n."
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Awkward tension stood between you and Gojo sitting next to each other on a bench waiting for the rest of his friends to finish trying to break the vending machine a few feet away from you. After the day you had seen the girl he was with, you unintentionally made things weird with the seventeen year-old, not talking to him as much as you usually did and using the excuse of being 'tired' or 'not in the mood to talk' Whenever someone asked why you weren't being as annoying and bubbly as you usually were. With the way he looked at you that day you were contemplating if he knew about your big crush on him. --Then again Gojo was the heir of the six eyes. He never missed a thing, that was for sure.
You were trying to make things go back to normal though, and the best idea you got was: making your sweet senior a bento box full of his favorite foods, aside from yours.
After a few more minutes you decided to speak up.
"Oh, yeah, um..." A cold puff of smoke left your lips when you spoke, and Gojo's head snapped toward your figure, placing the can of soda that was on his lips down next to him on the empty side of the wooden seat.
"I.... you usually don't come to lunch break with anything to eat, so I made you something." You softly cleared your throat as you avoided his gaze, the bottom half of your face hiding under the black scarf you wore.
You didn't understand why you were nervous-- hell, you were more than that; extremely anxious. Your heart felt like it was going to fall out of your mouth with the way he attentively stared at you even if his eyes were covered. Thank the lords those glowing orbs were covered-- if they weren't, you'd be digging your own grave.
Your hands then pulled a bento out of the mini tote bag you always held at lunch time, placing it on the small empty space between you two.
Gojo stared at the lunch box for a few seconds, before letting out a quiet chuckle, fixing the sunglasses on the bridge of his nose.
"Look, Y/n..." A harsh wind blew against you both and you immediately raised your brows, heart skipping a beat as his orbs met yours, lifting his glasses off of his nose and resting them on the top of his head.
Your heart dropped.
"I know that you... like me. And, uh, I don't-- I don't feel the same," The boy nodded, a look of pity forming somewhere in the glowing pools of turquoise that his eyes held. You swallowed dryly and parted your slightly chapped lips to say something but nothing came out. The last thing you heard from him was a simple ' 'm sorry' before he stood up from the bench and began to walk off to the group of arguing idiots, his glasses falling back onto his face.
You felt cold: frozen, even. And it wasn't all because of the strong wind that knocked your lunchbox off of the bench. The lunch box you made for him in giddy hopes that he would take it and warm up to you again with the same charming smile he usually gave you.
A tear rolled down your cheek as you stared at his back and once he turned his head to look at you all he saw was your hands scrambling to reach for his bento, shoving it into your lunch bag and shakily getting up with teary eyes that the wind seemed to exaggerate. You didn't know where your legs were taking you but you didn't mind as long as you weren't near him.
While you walked away from the distracted group and his sharp stare, all you could think of was what Shoko told you.
"If you really do love the idiot that much, keep trying." Yeah, you weren't going to talk to him or any of his friends ever again you were definitely doing that again.
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nyx-is-missing · 3 months
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Graceland too
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Clarisse la rue x fem!reader (Athena's kid)
Sumarry: When a certain daughter of Athena felt unappreciated her whole life, someone was there to see her.
Warnings: Sad girl hours, shitty parenthood, hurt/comfort because im no monster and probably other things wich i forgot.
a/n: look who is back!
Demigod.
Half blood.
Half a goddess.
Half a human (?).
And yet, fully a disappointment.
When Athena sent me to my Dad's house, in a golden crib, dressed in pure white dress, glowing, how the myths would expect a demigod to be, then, and only right then i was a gift.
A piece o divine love, something to prove to him, till the end of his life, that at some point, he was good enough for a Goddess.
But days after, immediately, i was just a crying baby, hungry, with a busy father, without a mother, and that only made him remember that, that was it.
He wasnt good enough for her, she wasnt staying, she never even actually even considered, he would never have that kind of honour, only a crying baby he never expected.
I wasnt a gift anymore, it actually felt like i was a insult, everything about me started to enrage him.
And oh, how did he reminded me of that every single day of my existence.
When i got diagnosed with dyslexia all i've heard whas that Athena gave me up to him because i was defective, when i couldnt sit still during classes, and exploded with all the repression i suffered everyday, suddently i was a clock bomb, when my grades where great, i was never rewarded, it was "the least i could do, to make up for the shame that i was".
I was never loved, never wanted, never encouraged, at least not by him.
The very little love i've known in my life, i own to the people who felt pitty of me.
The teachers, the neighbours who have heard the insults, the stray animals who could sense sadness, the very old grandparents who never actually saw me more than twice a year, and the people who worked at a nerby library, who let me stay past closing time, leaving only with the cleaners.
I was 12 when he had enough and sent me to camp, literally the very day school was over.
I came home to my clothes packed and him waiting by the car keys.
Being in camp for the first time, was also the very first time in my life i have ever felt....normal.
Not good, not bad, not great, not terrible, i was one, and that was enough.
I spend that summer being quiet, i sat in the corner, i didnt spoke, i didnt interrupted, i didnt had any ideas, i wasnt good enough to do that, thats what i've been told my whole life, thats my true.
It took a whole new summer for Athena to claim me.
I have always wondered if she was fighting with herself, if she had any problems having to admit that she made a mistake, with me, or with him.
It didn't matter, for the first time i had brothers and sisters, who wanted me, who understood when i wasnt the best, who asked for my graded tests, to put up in the wall.
They understood when i was hard to crack, when i insisted in being quiet, when i wouldnt share my ideas, they understood it all.
I didn't.
Each and every new summer i spent there, all i could ask myself was:
Why could i not be great like all of them?
Why im still afraid?
Why i was still useless?
Im now sixteen and the same questions still were unanswered.
And today i felt worse than ever.
It was my birthday, and i havent got a single letter from him, nothing, nothing.
It felt like he was saying i wasnt worth anything again.
Earlier, i tried to pretend nothing was happening, smiling with my siblings, finally making plans for capture the flag, finally belonging like i promissed i would try to do that year.
My plan was used, it wasnt perfect, but it was used, and surprising myself and the other team, we won.
I could see the other team confused, and Clarisse cussing us to death.
Still i was so happy, for the first time in my life i showed myself, and i worked....partially.
The happiness of victory didnt last much in me, because i saw a new brother of mine almost bursting to tears, he was young and just got claimed a few days ago, he wasnt used to that, and he wasnt supose to get hurt, but the red that painted his arms said otherwise.
I couldnt stare at him without feeling like i failed again.
Why couldnt i be perfect for once?
I took him to infirmary and held his hand while he was getting his stiches, saying sorry all the time.
I tried thinking it was okay, people get hurt, move on.
I had diner, i took a bath, i tried to sleep, i couldnt.
The tears were falling down and i knew i wouldn't be quiet.
So i got up and walked to the cabin's porch, sitting on the last step and letting my head fall to my knees.
Why couldnt i be great?
Why couldnt i be in peace with myself?
Why couldnt my mom bless me?
Why couldnt my dad love me?
Why did he had to be so mean?
I was a kid for fucks sake.
"Are you okay?" I heard someone saying, that made me freeze, that voice was not from any of my sisters, was i crying so hard i woke up someone from other cabin?
"I- yes, sorry i didn't knew i was crying so hard to wake people from other cabins, im sorry"
"You didn't, i was sneaking out to train some more, and saw you, our cabins face each other"
That was...Clarisse?
I wiped my tears and look up, she was staring at me with a almost worried look
"Clarisse?"
"Yes, why are you crying?"
She sat down by my side, dropping a sword in the grass.
"Its nothing really, im fine, you dont need to bothe-"
"No, cut the crap" she stopped me mid sentence "no one ever weeps in the middle of the night out of happiness, you are not fine and im not letting you lie OR leave until you tell me what it is"
We stare at each other, and ill need to thank the night light being bad because i probably look like crap right now, im sure my eyes are red, my nose too, im probably with a very swollen face and id bet all the dracmas i own that my hair its no better than a nest of birds.
"Go on...tell me"
I layed myself in the stairs, looking at the sky, trying to think of a way to tell everything, without sounding crazy
"I dont deserve to be here, Clarisse."
"Here..where?"
"This cabin, i dont deserve to be called daughter of the goddess of wisdom, i dont deserve being here with them, my siblings they are great, more than good, great, they will do great things with themselfs, amazing writers, architects, brilliant musicians, historians, why am i here? Im not even good, why im with the great?"
"Wait wait wait" she made me sit down again and look at her "not even good? What are you talking about? Wasnt the strategy in the last capture the flag yours? Yall won, and if somebody asks me later i've never said this but that was good, some really good strategy, i was almost thinking of asking chiron to switch you teams, you were great, more than that, and now you're here telling me you are not egen good? Are you on drugs?"
"Clarisse you dont need to pretend you care that much, and my plan wasnt all that, my brother got hurt, that wasnt supose to happen, i failed him, if i was good enough he wouldnt even be there"
She had a very confused look on her face, like she really did not knew what i was talking about.
"You're not talking about the little boy you took to the infirmary and that small cut in his forearm are you? Cause that boy was far from almost dying like you are making it sound like-" she looked at my eyes, i didnt needed a mirror to have sure how i was, i've seen myself like that too much to count, everytime my dad said i wasnt good enough, sad, lifeless.
"I failed again Clarisse, im not good enough to be here, im useless, worthless"
She looked at me and did the last thing i tought she would, Clarisse hugged me.
"Dont say that, c'mon, worthless? I've seen you fight, i've seen your plans, you dont talk much but i've heard your ideas, you are far from being useless or worthless, who the fuck told you that?"
"My f- you heard me?" I looked at her, only to see a look i couldnt distinguish "what do you mean?"
She looked at her own feet, then at her sword, reflecting the moonlight.
"You really dont know?" She looks at me "i- well, i've heard you, the same way i see you everyday, thats how i know you like morning walks, sweet green grapes, baked goods...how i know you are probably the only child of Athena who has never read "the art of war", that you walk without looking at peoples faces....its weird, i've seen you so much throughout this years and it feels like this is the first time you are actually seeing me"
"But i've saw you before-"
"Thats not what i was saying, you looked at me many times, but did you ever saw me until today?"
I looked at her blinking, and after a moment of silent i said "you like dark chocolate, and lemon flavoured soda, and sneaking out to train when the harpies take their breaks, by the way you missed that, and you always ask for double the quantity of food you eat, so when you burn it you still can eat enough, by the way i stole that idea-"
She is smilling, big, really big, i think i am too.
Of course i saw Clarisse, who wouldnt, she was strong, brave, beautiful, to me was a wonder she didnt had people running to get her attention.
She got closer to me "does that mean i can-" i stopped her mid sentence again
"Maybe..."
"Im going to make you forget that "im not good enough" nonsense, belive me"
She is smilling while kissing me, and i am too.
549 notes · View notes
vex91 · 5 months
Note
thoughts on g!p loser barista!ning having the biggest, fattest crush on loyal client!femreader and secretly going back home and jerking off thinking about her :((
then one day she just gets the opportunity to fuck you in the cafe’s bathroom after you noticed how she looks at you while you orderjkficke
Not only G!P but also loser? I AM IN HEAVEN😍
Warning(s): 18+ Content, G!P NingNing, NingNing being a little bit of stalker and creep but it's Ning so it's okay, Fingering, Blowjob
Okay so like NingNing working as a barista as her part time job after college and you're this one client that comes everyday at the same time as always and order the same damn thing. NingNing knows you from around the campus and she has the biggest crush on you but she thinks you don't even know about her existence because you're so popular :(((( so the only thing that's left for her in her mind is observing you from afar😶 She watches you during classes and during lunch, remembering every single small habit of yours like it's normal???😭
Foe example how you shake your hand a little when you're zoning out and ever since she noticed that Ning can't help but imagine you stroking her dick like that😶 Like she just chills in her room one second and then next she's jerking off and imagining that it's your hand instead that pleasures her. She also takes sneaky pictures of you and then jerks off to it later too (She basically masturbates to anything you related-)
But what Ning didn't knew was that you actually knew of the existence of this cute dork that always looked in your direction every chance she got when she thought you weren't looking (Spoiler you did) and that was the reason you actually came to that Café every single day during her shifts. You knew she ogled your ass and boobs every chance she got and you encouraged it more making the poor girl hard😭😭
One day she got so hard and horny she had to go on her break earlier and that's when you managed to sneak into the bathroom after her, catching her desperately pumping her cock, muttering your name over and over again. When she noticed you she tried to cover herself but it was too late and you already saw everything. Ning nearly got a heart attack when you pushed her to sit down and got down to your knees between her legs. Had to cover her mouth with her hand to not moan so loudly when you started sucking her off but can you blame her though? You were just too good at that.
Loser Ning isn't such a loser like you could have thought when she takes you by your hair and starts fucking your throat like a desperate for a release animal and the best thing is that she didn't even cared and it made her more attractive for some reason. She'll force you to swallow all of her cum before pulling you up along with her and pushing you to sit down where she was sitting. Before you knew it she was pumping her fingers in and out of you at fast pace while biting down on your neck. Her hand covered your mouth to hide at least some of your moans and screams of her name.
She didn't even waited after you came before she pushed her dick inside you and thrusted into you without any care in the world. All she could think about was you clenching down on her cock and the need she had to breed you full of her cum. And that's what she did, she cummed into you over and over again until she was sure you were full of her before she pulled out and sat down next to you. Then she turned on baby and loser mode on and it made you so confused about what happened with the girl that literally ruined you 2 seconds ago😭
384 notes · View notes
morallyinept · 2 months
Text
Heyday Hero! - A Marcus Moreno One Shot
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Summary: Retired from his role as leader of the Heroics, Marcus finds that his life is missing something he never really slowed down to notice before, and soon the prospect of growing older and grey alone suddenly doesn't seem like such a super thought.
Pairing: Mature!Marcus Moreno x Mature/CurvyF!Reader (No name of reader. It’s you, bub. However Reader is of a similar age to Marcus, who I have made 52 in this story, and Reader is more on the curvier side in body type. Otherwise a blank slate.)
Word Count: 12.5k. I'm not sorry. Settle in, it's a long one.
Scoville Smut Rating:🌶️🌶️🌶️ “You tell me I'm doing well, and then, you try to kill me.”
Check out my Scoville Smut Ratings here.
Warnings/Triggers: Some angst/very slight mentions of body confidence/both Marcus & Reader have REAL bodies, and very real middle age spread/coming to terms with ageing & feeling obsolete.
Explicit: Unprotected PIV (wrap up, folks!)/oral M & F receiving/fingering - Marcus has superpower hands⚡️/lots of kissing/schmaltzy romance/Marcus doesn't fuck, he makes love.
NSFW. MINORS DNI! OVER 18’s ONLY. YOU ARE SOLELY RESPONSIBLE FOR WHAT YOU READ.☝🏻Don’t come at me; you’ve been plenty warned.
I write for me, and I share with you. If this story isn't to your taste, that's fine. Just slip quietly out the back door. No need to make a fuss. It's just a work of fiction.
Author’s Note: After seeing how distinguished and incredibly handsome Pedro looked at the Emmy's recently (and remarkably like an older version of gorgeous Marcus Moreno) this idea came to me. And I had to write it down... It's long for a one shot, but I didn't want to cut too much out as I wanted to really get inside of Marcus's head. 🧠
MAIN MASTERLIST | MARCUS MORENO MASTERLIST
Enjoy! 🖤
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In the dimly lit restaurant, Marcus fiddles anxiously with the menu as he waits for your arrival.
Sat in the swanky establishment, chosen meticulously for it’s luxurious, yet modest selection of incredibly tasty fare, the ambiance around him is a blend of soft lighting and muted colours that exude an air of quaint sophistication.
The walls are adorned with contemporary art pieces, which he can sometimes get lost inside between courses, creating an elegant backdrop to the gentle hum of conversations weaving around him like a ribbon in the background.
To his left, a couple engage in animated laughter, their cheery faces illuminated by the warm glow of soft candlelight. Across the room, a group of friends celebrate a special occasion, clinking glasses in animated jubilation.
The soft jazz music playing in the background adds a touch of romance, and the scraping of cutlery against fine china creates a comforting sense of familiarity in a place Marcus has favoured from time to time, bringing his daughter as his usual date.
The waitstaff, dressed in crisp uniforms, move gracefully between tables, ensuring that each patron experiences the epitome of culinary indulgence with a first class service.
Grateful that he chose to don his spectacles, he opens the menu and skims the appetizers and main courses, inwardly cursing his exceptional time keeping skills at arriving thirty minutes earlier than he needs to be.
He’s acutely aware of being on his own; standing out as a single amongst a sea of tables where numbers around them are even, and it crawls onto his shoulders to sit there like a heavy, unwanted companion settling in.
Despite the refined atmosphere, Marcus feels a tinge of nervousness swell in his belly. As he catches glimpses of couples sharing intimate moments and friends engaged in lively cahoots, Marcus can't help but feel like an outsider peering into a world that has become somewhat unfamiliar during his retirement.
As he sits in contemplation, considering the Filet Mignon with a Cabernet Demi-Glace alongside a glass of Malbec, or maybe the Châteauneuf-du-Pape, that would go down nicely, the restaurant serves as a swamping microcosm of the world he’s retreated into - a world filled with ordinary moments and the promise of new connections, despite the cocoon of abject terror woven tightly around them.
He wonders briefly for a moment what you will choose to eat as he skims down the list. Then he wonders if you'll actually have the courage to show; his own hesitations and fears trying to toy with him with their insidious little voices hissing in his ear.
His once steady hands now convey a subtle tremor, a physical manifestation of the nerves that have gripped him tightly ever since the idea of this date had taken root and grown limbs of its own.
A journey that still confused him, unable to believe it all started with a simple swipe over his face and a digital message shared between you...
His daughter, Missy, had perched on the armrest of the couch only a mere fortnight ago, a mischievous glint in her deep chocolate eyes that matched his own set of peepers.
"Alright, Dad, let's make you the perfect dating profile. You've got to be enticing, mysterious, yet approachable," Missy had declared with a buoyant smirk.
Marcus nodded, still getting accustomed to the concept of online dating and his acceptance to it after months of Missy berating him about putting himself out there more.
He finally caved when he realised she was right. She usually was about these things, although hardly an example to live by. Several failed relationships later, including an engagement that never led to Marcus actually walking her down the aisle proudly on his arm, and she'd thrown in the towel and embraced single life.
She'd grown in age for a thirty-something rambunctious young woman, but evidently not in maturity.
"Right, right. Enticing and approachable. Got it.” Marcus nodded. “How do I do that?"
“You’re a lost cause, jeez,” she snorted, as her fingers danced across the keyboard on the phone screen. “Luckily, you have me to help you out.”
“What are you writing in there?” Marcus asked curiously, trying to take a peek.
"I’m making you sound like a catch. Because you are.”
“I don’t know about that.” He mumbled bashfully. “I’m old.”
“Being in your fifties is not old. Trust me. You’re what, 56?”
“52.” Marcus frowned.
“Exactly. Young. Now, for the headline. How about 'retired hero seeking sidekick for life's next adventure'?"
Marcus nodded. “Mm, I sound like a sales pamphlet.” He chuckled.
With a teasing grin, Missy continued typing. "Let's highlight your strengths. 'A man of action, but also enjoys long walks on the beach and candlelit dinners.'"
Marcus scratched under his greying beard. "Look at that, I've been upgraded from sales pamphlet to walking cliché."
Missy laughed, "fine, we'll skip the beach walks, then. How about we mention your cooking skills? 'Can whip up a mean lasagna, tower of pancakes and save the day - a triple threat.'"
Marcus nodded in approval. "That's not bad. Cooking is a superpower in its own right. And one that I excel at, if I do say so myself."
"You always say so."
"Quit complaining. You eat here for free." He quipped.
As they navigated through the intricacies of the dating profile, Marcus's naivety about online dating emerged. "Do people really swipe left or right on this thing?”
“Yep. You swipe right if you like the look of them, or left if you don’t.”
“How fickle.” He wrinkled his nose at such a thought.
“Eh, it's what all the cool kids do these days.” Missy shrugged.
“Maybe that’s too cool for me. What about one where I can meet someone like me?”
“Dating specifically for retired Heroics?”
“No. Dating for… something other than a one night stand.” He cleared his throat.
“You mean you don’t want to slut around?” Missy teased. "These are your hoe years, Dad!"
“Hey! Potty mouth.” He frowned again. “And no. I-I want to meet someone who’s serious.”
Missy rolled her eyes. “Dad, this isn’t Tinder I'm setting you up on, don’t worry.” She reassured. “This is a serious dating site for old, uh, mature people who want to find something real. It just has a similar algorithm to Tinder in matching you up.”
“Well, good.” He nodded. “What’s Tinder?”
“Slut central.” Missy smirked.
“Oh.” Marcus chuckled again. “And what's with all the emojis? Ooh, is there a superhero emoji?"
Missy tittered, guiding him through the nuances. "Yes, there's a superhero emoji, we can add that, or a heart to jazz it up a bit."
“I like the purple heart. Can you put that one?”
“Purple? Why not the green one?”
“I don’t like green, purple is my favourite colour. Why would I use the green one?” Marcus questioned, wrinkling his nose.
"I don't know, green is cool. Different."
"I'm not cool. Just put the purple one."
“Purple it is.” Missy said, smiling down at him and how curiously receptive he was to it all. She had assumed he would have put up a bit of a fight and insisted he was perfectly fine on his own. But they both knew that wasn’t entirely true.
As she finalised the profile, Missy held up the phone to snap a picture of him.
“Oh no, let me just-”
“Dad, you look fine.” She groaned as he ran his hand over his head tidying his already neat hair.
“Well, let me take my glasses off.”
“No way. They’re a part of you. Now, say cheese, you uncool old man.” She snapped a few pics as he smiled awkwardly, and chose the best one to upload.
"And there we have it - the profile of a retired superhero ready to conquer the world of online dating. You're a niche in the market."
Marcus simply scoffed.
"Now, brace yourself for the flood of admirers, Dad. Your inbox is gonna be lit."
Marcus looked at the screen, a mix of nervousness and amusement on his face.
"Flood of admirers, huh? I never thought finding a date would be this... complicated."
As Missy finalised and submitted the online dating profile, a moment of hesitation gripped him. He looked at the screen, the upbeat words that described him echoed in his mind, and a pang of guilt tugged at his ventricles making him sigh heavily.
The prospect of moving forward felt like a betrayal, a step into an unknown territory where memories of his late wife still lingered, clinging on. He fiddled with the platinum band around his finger absentmindedly.
But Missy sensed her father's inner turmoil, her eyes reflecting a deep understanding as if she could read every silent thought that churned through him.
She gently placed a hand on his broad shoulder.
"Dad, it's okay. Mom will always be a part of us, no matter what. This doesn't mean you're leaving her behind."
Marcus nodded, his gratitude evident in his misty eyes. "I know. It's just... it feels strange, you know? To be potentially opening up to someone new. I feel so out of the loop."
“But that’s the fun in dating.” Missy squeezed his shoulder reassuringly and he placed his hand on top of hers. "You meet all kinds of weirdos before you find one that's the right kind of weird."
"You're a weirdo." He smirked.
"Takes one to know one," she mused. "Besides, mom would want you to be happy. And I want that too. You deserve it. There’s someone out there that's just as uncool as you are, I guarantee it."
"Thanks," he chuckled.
"I mean it. Whoever they are, they're going to fall madly in love with you. You really are a hero, Dad."
Marcus smiled up at her with rosy cheeks and a warming smile. “Love you, kiddo.”
“I’m not eleven anymore. I’m a grown woman.” She rolled her eyes at the pet name that had stuck, although secretly she loved it.
“You’ll always be my kiddo regardless of how old you get. That'a just the deal.” He confirmed with a singular nod.
With a soft smile, Marcus returned his focus to the dating profile. The words on the screen transforming slowly from potential betrayal to a blooming eagerness through some determined resilience and the capacity to allow himself to embrace a new beginning in his long absent love life with some appeasement.
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Weeks had passed since Marcus and Missy created the dating profile.
Admittedly Marcus hadn’t spent a lot of time on the app, finding it tricky to navigate and the constant swiping made his thumbs ache after scrolling through reams of attractive faces that it began to overwhelm.
But he dipped in now and again to check any matches, and didn’t really expect much.
Marcus was the kind of man who harboured that dreamy infatuation of falling in love naturally in an environment reminiscent of his favourite rom coms.
Like bumping into his soulmate in a coffee shop over a foamy latte, or locking eyes through the stacks in an old dusty bookstore, or between the exotic blooms of the local botanical gardens where he liked to sit and have lunch sometimes.
But of course, life isn’t a rom com, and Marcus was convinced his had always been a gritty action adventure with no time for the romantic story line to be weaved into the dangerous plot.
One evening, as Marcus checked his phone, he discovered a notification from the dating app. His heart skipped a beat as he opened the message, revealing a match with you.
A mixture of excitement and nervousness washed over him. He read through your profile, discovering shared interests and a warmth that resonated through your words about seeking a life partner with whom you could share your zest for life with.
Your photo captivated him, namely your smile, and Marcus found he spent several minutes just trying to envision what you were like in person with those gorgeous eyes of yours staring back at him.
The room seemed to brighten as he absorbed the realisation that someone out there was potentially interested in getting to know him beyond the superhero persona.
"Hey, I got a match!" He called out to Missy, who was folding laundry in the next room.
Despite how domesticated her father was, he still loathed ironing and wasn’t really that skilled at it, so it was left for Missy when she visited, which was an almost daily occurrence. Moving out some years ago into her own place across town, she still spent more of her time at her childhood home hanging with her father when she wasn’t saving the world.
Loneliness, it seemed, was hereditary.
She rushed in, her eyes lighting up with excitement. "Really? Let me see!"
As they huddled around the phone, Marcus navigated through your profile.
“Oh, she’s gorgeous, Dad.”
“Right? Far too gorgeous for me.” His voice dipped.
Missy frowned up at him. “Don’t say that, she likes you, look. And look, she loves flowers, you love your garden! Ooh, and she’s a foodie! Perfect match!"
"You think so?" He asked.
"You're officially in the dating game, Dad!" She grinned excitedly.
Marcus couldn't help but smile, a blend of gratitude and anticipation in his eyes.
“Send her a message back.”
“What do I say?”
Missy rolled her eyes. “Just talk to her, dummy.”
He nodded. "I never thought I'd be doing this at my age. But here goes nothing."
Missy playfully nudged him. “You say it like you’re on your last legs.”
“I’m so nervous. Do you think she could really find me interesting?”
Missy's face softened. "Absolutely. You’ve got so much to offer. Remember, just be yourself. And if all else fails, maybe tell her about the pancake towers… That seemed to work for you before."
The father-daughter duo laughed and then she left him to it. As Marcus prepared to message you, he felt a sense of hope blooming within him, seeding with delicate tendrils of what-if scenarios through the soil of his being.
The dating app, once an intimidating frontier, now represented a chance for connection in the palm of his hand, and the possibility of a second chapter in his life.
In the soft glow of the phone screen, Marcus typed his first message to you; a simple yet sincere greeting, with thoughtful follow up questions to get to know you.
As he pressed send, the room seemed to hold its breath with him; floundering in the uncharted territory and all the terrifying pitfalls of online dating opening up in seemingly unconquerable chasms before him.
He could feel his fingers buzz and crackle in giddy excitement, and he shook the pulsing from them as he waited anxiously.
Marcus smiled as wide as his mouth would stretch when moments later your reply came, followed with a purple heart emoji of your own at the end.
The pair of you spent the reminder of that night messaging back and forth until the early hours of the morning, both of you seeming reluctant to halt the texting for the inconvinience of sleep.
You questioned him about his previous career as leader of the Heroics, something that he made no effort in hiding from you, but he was more surprised when you brushed over it and asked him more personal questions about him and his life now.
It warmed him to know that you were keen on getting to know the man underneath the padded out suit and katanas.
As Marcus delved into the conversations that flowed eagerly across the screen, he eagerly shared those glimpses of his life beyond the Heroics. In his messages to you, he found himself excitedly revealing the most cherished aspects of his retired life - his culinary prowess and his love for gardening namely.
Through his words, never abbreviated to modern day text slang, he painted vivid pictures of his kitchen as a canvas where he crafted tasty and experimental delights, contributing to his now less-than-trim waistline.
The tales of him donning an apron and concocting flavours with pots and pans were woven into the giddy narrative - like creating his legendary lasagna and towering pancake stacks - and held a touch of pride and a hint of self-deprecating humour.
Perhaps you'll be the lucky one to experience my famous lasagna one day. I warn you though, it comes with a side of terrible superhero puns and far too much garlic bread.💜
Your response made his cheeks ache from grinning so much:
Well, lucky for you I love far too much garlic bread. And terrible puns.💜
He spoke of mornings spent tending to the plants in his back yard, nurturing them as if they were his wards. The garden, once a therapeutic escape from the demands of heroism, now became a space where he cultivated not just flowers and vegetables, but a sense of ongoing tranquillity.
As he shared these aspects of his life, Marcus was ecstatic that you saw beyond the retired hero and glimpsed the man who found joy in the beautiful ordinary.
You both spoke morning, noon and night until only a few days into your chatting, Marcus offered you his phone number and he called you, engaging in a video call conversation that lasted late into the night and curated a dinner date arranged for just a few evenings later.
And now, sitting in the restaurant waiting patiently for you, his phone buzzes in his pocket at the table and Missy’s name flashes up.
Stay away from anything garlicky 2nite, no matter how much u want it. Good luck! Love u x
He smiles at his daughter’s sage advice after responding with a thumbs up emoji, and he puts his phone back in his pocket and glances out the window.
Outside the restaurant, the early night casts its enchantment over the cityscape of downtown Austin, turning the bustling streets into a reflective mosaic of city lights. The glow of the street lamps create warm halos diffused by the previous cascading rain, warm in the Texas summer.
The restaurant, with its polished veneer and the subtle drama of its patrons all around seem to suddenly cave in on Marcus, and the nerves begin to convince him that you might feel out of place here.
He’s starting to, as he glances down at himself; his once-strong hands now showing signs of a subtle tremble and wear. He smooths down his soft cashmere sweater nervously.
Agonising on what to wear, Missy came to the rescue after his attempts at some mismatched disaster left her looking at him as though he'd completely lost his mind.
And perhaps he had for even entertaining the idea that someone could find him desirable and attractive now at the gates of a later stage in life.
After a brief fashion show of potential date outfits, they settled on a classic and sophisticated choice of a black cashmere sweater, paired with a white pressed shirt and a sleek black tie underneath, teamed with black pants and smart dress shoes that seemed to strike the right balance between the refined and approachable.
Much smarter than his grey denim that was scuffed at the knees.
"Very James Bond, Dad," Missy had remarked, a playful grin on her face.
"James Bond is incredibly smooth with the ladies. I'm more like Jack Lemon." Marcus snorted. "Got that nervous, twitchy energy down to a T... How do I look?"
With a final nod of approval, they exchanged their trademark father-daughter grin; a silent acknowledgment of the bond that went beyond snappy wardrobe choices.
Missy, ever the supportive sidekick, had not only helped pick an outfit, but infused the process with laughter and adoration, quelling his aforementioned nervous, twitchy energy. The ensemble was nothing too fussy, but equally comfortable and smart.
But now he wonders if the sweater accentuates the stomach he’s allowed to grow out of him through not working out on the daily anymore, and he inadvertently sucks it in.
As Marcus browses the menu, his mind wanders aimlessly to the days when the government relied on him and his team to protect the city. Now that gratitude seems to have faded, replaced by a forgotten indifference.
The retirement party was a mere formality, a token of appreciation for a job well done over the years, and soon he was swallowed up in the anonymity of regular civilian life.
But in the quiet solitude of his home, Marcus often found himself grappling with the stark void that retirement had suddenly left behind. The absence of the daily camaraderie of a team, and a mission, left him with a sense of purposelessness that was hard to ignore.
Days stretched before him like an uncertain horizon and weighed heavily on his shoulders. The routines that once defined his life had dissolved, leaving behind a disorienting stillness and quietness that seemed perpetually louder as the days wore on where he was left floundering. And immensely bored.
His daughter watched with concern as her father navigated this unfamiliar terrain cautiously - and somewhat alone.
The strong, confident superhero who had once faced down villains and alien entities alike, and saved the day countless times without so much as a thanks from the general public most of the time, but bore the scars and wounds that weren't just physical, now faced the formidable challenge of figuring out what came next.
In the midst of his internal battles, loneliness became an unexpected companion that walked beside Marcus; its presence more pronounced as the passage of solitude had unfolded.
In the darkest corners of his mind, Marcus grappled with the harsh reality of ageing. The once-vibrant hero who was in super shape, whose every step echoed with the assurance of a Titan-esque strength, now found himself facing the inevitability of a body that carried the pudgy weight of his advancing years and one too many lasagnes.
The grey in his beard and the subtle signs of time etched around his tired eyes, served as visual markers of a journey that had traversed the highest peaks of heroism and now meandered through the sludgey valleys of introspection.
A sense of nostalgia lingered for the days when his strength seemed boundless, and the world bowed in acknowledgment of his achievements and saviour duty.
Yet, beneath the surface, there was also a quiet, yet slow acceptance; a recognition that each new wrinkle and grey strand bore witness to a life well-lived. Overall, he was happy, accomplished; he had what he needed to be content.
But there was still a hole where a hole ought not to be. And it was starting to gape.
The memories of his late wife visited him in unguarded moments. Especially at night when the world was still and peaceful, yet his yearning was abominably loud.
Marcus missed the warmth of her presence, her body wrapped around his, the shared laughter, and the quiet intimacy that had defined their mere few years together.
He would fall asleep glancing at the tarnished gleam of his wedding band that he still wore around his finger, up until his impending date.
A metallic fragment still clinging on with her memory despite its haze, and popping it safely away inside the drawer came with a sense of unyielding sadness as it did with something excitedly eager to pursue a new chapter.
The transition from active duty to retirement weighed heavily on Marcus. The once effable hero, accustomed to the exhilaration of fighting crime and saving lives, found himself facing the stark reality of now being cast aside, overshadowed by the emergence of a new, younger fleet of heroes; his own daughter taking up the position that he once held proudly as leader of the Heroics.
Retirement, in its initial stages, felt like a forced departure from a life that had defined him. The government's decision to make way for the next generation of heroes left Marcus grappling with a sense of displacement.
The outfit, which had been a symbol of strength and purpose, now hung in the closet faded and moth-eaten; a silent reminder of a bygone era, no longer fitting him where he’d allowed himself to fill out a little.
The katanas were sheathed and stored away at the back of the furthest shelf out of reach, and out of sight, and no longer needed to be called into his grip by his own will.
And despite him still feeling that magnetised, crackly buzz in his fingers, it became less noticeable as time wore on.
His team, once a tight knit band of clashing personalities in lurid coloured suits alike, were now strangers in his phone book whom he barely heard from.
There was an inherent loneliness attached to retirement, a solitude that stemmed not just from the absence of battles, but from the realisation that the world had moved on and left him forever encased inside his heyday.
Marcus recognized that the cycle of heroism demanded the emergence of new champions; each generation contributing to the ebb and flow of the greater narrative. He knew and understood he would never be able to keep going forever, nor did he want to.
The challenge, however, lay in reconciling his sense of self-worth with a society that often failed to appreciate the depth of experience that came with age.
It was as if he had become invisible overnight.
Marcus yearned for a companion, a lover who could fill the void left by the passing of his wife. The longing for romance, for someone to share the mundane and extraordinary moments alike, for the feel of someone's bare skin writhing and cupping against his own filled his waking thoughts.
The world, once a carnival of action, now seemed incomplete without the shared tenderness of someone to enjoy it with. The quiet dinners, the walks hand-in-hand, and the simple pleasure of having a partner to confide in rooted a growing hunger within him.
The desire for companionship wasn’t just a fleeting wish; it was a profound ache that echoed through the vacant chambers of his heart, a reminder that heroism, while noble, did not shield him from the vulnerabilities of basic human need.
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For your date with Marcus tonight, you'd carefully selected a dress that effortlessly blended elegance with a touch of modern flair.
The dress was a knee-length, A-line silhouette in a shade of deep midnight blue, shimmering with some well placed sequins.
The rich hue complimented your complexion, enhancing the natural tones of your skin, along with a subtle dusting of make-up to accentuate your best features.
The fabric, a luxurious blend of silk and satin, cascaded down in gentle folds, creating a silhouette that was both graceful and sophisticated and hid a multitude of sins that you felt knocking your confidence about a little.
The moment you step into the restaurant your eyes are eagerly searching for him, and you spot him at a table by the window, his eyes equally searching for you.
And it's as if time itself has stopped, and there is only him and you.
Your dress is incredible, hugging your curves and emphasising them in all the right places. He can’t help but let his eyes roam over the fullness of your behind as you turn to give your coat to the host when you walk in.
Marcus can feel his mouth salivate; a small hint of your swelling cleavage is exposed as you walk towards him, rendering his pants feeling a little tighter.
But what captivates him the most is your smile; it lights up your whole face when you dazzle him with the beam of it.
“Holy ssh…” He trails off to himself as he loses his breath.
Of course, he already thinks you're attractive; he's seen you already through your picture and your video calls that have been on his mind constantly. He’d be bashful to admit that he’s looked at your dating profile picture probably far more than he should.
(He’ll never reveal to you that he’s also used it as inspiration to chase his own pleasure as he wrapped his hand around his thick cock to impure thoughts of you whilst he looked at your smiling face. Well, he won’t tell you that just yet, anyway.)
But seeing you finally in the flesh is something else entirely.
As you approach the table, the air pulses with a blend of eager excitement, and that familiar nervous, twitchy energy.
Marcus rises to his jellied feet, a courteous smile on his tanned, weathered face; his mind racing with the age-old question of whether to extend a hand for a shake, lean in for a kiss on the cheek, or open his arms for a hug. He fears he might not let you go at the latter.
All options make him giddy; the thought of finally touching you, even for a polite greeting, makes his legs buckle.
Your eyes meet, and a moment of charming awkwardness ensues. Unsure of the social cues, Marcus hesitates for a split second, caught between the realms of old-school gentlemanly grandeur and the nuances of modern dating etiquette.
In a playful attempt to navigate the greeting, he extends a hand for a shake just as you move in for a friendly hug. The result is a momentary dance of uncertainty - a handshake that morphs into an unexpected half-hug, odd dance. Laughter bubbles up between you both, diffusing the tension of your awkward limbs, as you share an amused, bashful glance.
"Well, that was smooth," Marcus quips, a twinkle in his eye.
"Some of my best moves," you agree, chuckling in agreement.
“You look absolutely beautiful,” Marcus compliments. He pulls your chair out for you and you smile as you sit whilst he tucks you in, then takes his own seat opposite you.
“You don’t look so bad yourself,” you say, feeling warm all over. “Very handsome.”
“Thanks,” he says, smoothing his hands down over his broad chest. “I had some help.” He admits, his eyes crinkling in the corners behind his specs as he chuckles. “My daughter saved the day.”
“Well, she has great taste. You look amazing. You smell really good too.” You say as your nose still twitches with the heady oaky notes.
"Thanks." He smiles and finds he can't stop.
He drifts off for a moment, lost in your eyes as they observe him fondly. It takes a moment for his composure to return and his brain to remember words coherently.
“Oh, I almost forgot, these are for you,” Marcus says, pointing to the vase of extravagant flowers resting beside the table on the windowsill.
The florals are incredible, a cluster of bulbous-headed peonies and fluffy garden roses, topped with curled calla lilies; their trumpet-shaped blooms standing out amongst their companions, adding a contemporary flair to the bouquet.
A soft hue of pinks and corals greet you, and the scent wafting from them makes your head swim with their delightfully wafting fragrance.
“These are stunning, Marcus. Wow, they must have cost a fortune... you shouldn't have.” But you're glad he did as you reach forward to smell them and run your fingers over their velvety petals in awe.
“Actually, they’re from my garden.”
“You grow these?” You baulk.
“Yeah. I know you said you love the lilies; they’re some of my favourites too.”
“That’s so thoughtful... I really do love them. Thank you.” You’re stunned at the fact this incredibly adept man knows how to cultivate something so beautiful into existence from a tiny seed. “Flowers just make me so happy, you know?”
“I get that. They make me happy too.” He agrees. “Would you like some wine, are you a wine drinker?” Marcus enquires.
Despite your long conversations laughing like teenagers breaking parental curfew well into the night, there are still things you're both yet to uncover about each other.
You nod. “I'd love some.”
The waiter takes your orders and you choose the pan-seared sea bass, drawn to the delicate and flaky texture of the fish, served on a bed of lemon risotto with roasted cherry tomatoes and asparagus.
Something light that won’t aggravate your stomach with your own nerves so much throughout the evening.
But his soft, inviting smile revealing a dimple as he gazes at you whilst you talk, puts you at ease. He really is incredibly handsome in the flesh, to the point it leaves you unable to speak for a few moments in between the engrossing conversations.
But the silences are never awkward between you both.
The dark-rimmed spectacles perched on the bridge of his nose adds a touch of intellectual charm to his appearance, framing deep cocoa eyes that hold the wisdom of years spent in both heroism and now the quieter, reflective moments of life.
His greying beard and moustache add a rugged yet refined quality to the sun-kissed countenance of his complexion. The salt-and-pepper tones speak of a life rich with experience, the threads of grey weaving through the tapestry of a man who has weathered both storms and serenity.
He made no attempt of keeping his heroic qualities a secret from you - his face was known for saving the world time and time over - and despite it, it wasn’t something that put you off when you learned he was a former Heroic, and that people would sometimes recognise him like a celebrity when he were out doing mundane things like grocery shopping.
If anything, it flattered you that someone of his calibre would find you attractive in any kind of way. Compared to Marcus, your life in contrast was humdrum at best with a simple, yet modest job and a simple, yet modest home.
He could have a limber woman with a body sculpted to perfection in tight spandex, but instead it impressed you at how humble, and seemingly reserved and shy he was.
And how keenly interested he was in you and everything you had to say.
“Oh, this is delicious.” You sigh after the waiter brings your food a while later.
Conversation has flowed easily between you both and he makes you laugh a lot; something that he selfishly enjoys when he sees you throw you head back and titter, making you look more beautiful than ever, and filling his head with wayward thoughts of kissing down your neck.
That tight feeling in his pants hasn’t gone away yet and he revels in the throbbing ache hanging heavy despite the discomfort, because it’s been so long since someone made his body react like this.
“You wanna try some of mine too? The meat's really good.” Marcus offers, and holds his fork out to you when you nod.
You notice he bites his bottom, plush lip as he watches you take it in your mouth.
“Mmm, that is good. So tender. This was such a good choice of restaurant.” You say.
“Thank you. I love food and kinda pride myself in finding the best places to eat.” He says with a slight flush creeping over his nose. “That probably comes off as rather arrogant-”
“Not at all. I love it that you love food so much. I do too, it’s probably why I’m more on the heavy side these days.” You chuckle as you reach for your wine glass.
Marcus shakes his head. “I think you look amazing.” He smiles and you notice the rosy blush settle in his cheeks again.
“I never knew this place was here. It’s funny, you can spend your whole life in one place and not realise what’s right under your nose, right?” You say, and Marcus can’t help but agree in more ways than one.
The meal is delicious, the wine flows between you both. Finishing the bottle, he offers you dessert with a tempting smile and arched brow, that ignites something over your skin and leaves you tingly and squeezing your thighs together.
Your mutual sweet teeth lead you both to agree on the tiramisu to share between you. Layers of coffee-soaked ladyfingers and mascarpone cream, dusted with cocoa powder, promises a delightful conclusion to the meal, to which you both indulge in as you speak more.
As you discuss your favourite movies and share anecdotes, the conversation takes on a flirtatious undertone as he leaves the last creamy bite on the plate just for you.
Wholly engaged in your words, Marcus leans in slightly over the table on his crossed arms; a hint of intimacy in his gesture, and a reassuring sincerity in his eyes that convince you that he’s enjoyed this evening and your company so much.
And when you look back at him, leaning in a little closer on your elbows across the table too, watching and shuddering as his fingertips soon brush against yours, you confirm the same to him in your own eyes that glitter and beguile him to his knees in subjugation of you.
"You know, they say the best movies are the ones that leave you wanting more... I can't help but feel the same about our date. I've had a really wonderful time with you tonight," he concludes, his dark-rimmed spectacles adding a touch of earnestness to his gaze.
He watches you smile and the world outside implodes.
"I was thinking... w-would you be interested in doing this again? Maybe something a bit less formal - like maybe a walk through the city or maybe a picnic or something?"
You chuckle, your eyes sparkling with a teasing glint. “I’d absolutely love that, Marcus.”
“Yeah?” He beams, all teeth and pink grinning lips.
“I’d love to spend more time with you, definitely. I’ve really enjoyed tonight too. Almost don’t want it to end.” You say as your fingers glide over his knuckles.
“Well, it doesn’t have to… I-I mean, the night is still young, perhaps we could go for that walk? Or get another drink elsewhere? I know a good cocktail lounge in town, if you're feeling fruity?” Marcus suggests.
He’s careful not to sully the line between polite etiquette and implied impropriety. But you both chuckle at his choice of words.
“Sounds good.” You agree, all twinkly at him, and he can feel his heart soar.
He fetches your coat and holds it open for you as you slip it on. He carries the vase of flowers out towards the parking lot, suggesting he puts them in the car so he can hold your hand freely as you walk together somewhere, anywhere.
But you both don’t make it on that walk, or to the cocktail lounge, as instead you turn to him and go to kiss him, taking him by surprise that he almost drops the vase of flowers as your lips barely graze his cheek.
“I’m sorry, I just had to,” you say, a little flustered and giggly.
“Wait,” he says, and you watch him plonk the vase on the ground safely, and his arms pull you towards him. “Okay, let’s try that again.”
Smiling, Marcus leans in as you tiptoe up and your lips finally meet; soft, inviting and delicate.
A smooch that lasts and morphs slowly into something more passionate, more desired. And confirms everything you hoped and imagined about him from the moment you laid eyes on him this evening: Marcus Moreno knows how to damn well kiss.
You trace the line of his bottom lip with yours, nipping it gently and it elicits a moan from deep within him that warms your bone marrow.
His hands traverse the length of your back pulling you in closer to him as he gently slips his tongue into your wanting mouth.
Your fingers trace the soft silk of his beard; his moustache gently tickling your top lip deliciously. It’s a tender, unhurried exploration, one that sparks fireworks inside your veins.
His thick fingers, calloused by the harsh realities of his journey, find their way into your hand, stroking gently, and you can feel something crackle between them.
You eventually part and draw in much needed breaths from where he’s inhaled all of you deep into his chest cavity.
“Wow, t-that was-” He begins with a bewildered stutter.
“It was,” you agree, smiling into his face as he nuzzles his nose against yours.
“You taste so good,” he groans, placing his hands on your waist gently, respectfully, as you stroke up his thick arms.
You're so close, pressed into him and you can feel the swell of him against you making you smirk.
“It’s the tiramisu,” you chuckle.
“No, it's all you.” He whispers softly shaking his head. “Would you… would you like to come back to mine for some coffee?”
“Coffee you say?” You smile with raised eyebrows. “You know that's code, right?” You tease.
He laughs. “I’m not being presumptuous, I just… I kinda don’t want the night to end. And I’d really like to kiss you some more.”
“I know what you mean. And I’d love some. Both coffee and kissing.”
Marcus opens the passenger side door for you as you seat yourself in, and he smiles warmly with glittery peepers that render you speechless.
Leaning in, he kisses you again, bent in through the door and unable to abnegate himself away from you.
With the flowers secured in your lap, he sets off and you admire the clean interior of his Camry and watch him drive as he turns to smile at you through the shadows.
He takes your hand in his and brings it to his mouth to kiss over it gently as he drives.
Pulling into the driveway at Marcus’s home a short ride later, you unclick your seatbelt as he turns off the engine.
“I can drive you home at any point. Just say the word and we’ll go. I’m not expecting anything more from-”
“Marcus. Take me inside and make me some coffee.” You reassure him by squeezing his thigh gently.
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Marcus’s home is large and spacious, but homely in all the right ways with subtle Hispanic influences woven through the decor, and incredibly neat and tidy than what you would expect from a bachelor living alone.
“Is this your garden?” You query as you glance out the french doors keenly whilst he makes coffee in the kitchen.
The vase of flowers is perched on the counter top, and your eyes recognise the blooms swaying in clusters the gentle breeze around the garden where he cut them from, despite the darkness of the evening.
“Yeah,” he says proudly, as he brings over the mugs.
“It looks beautiful. Can we sit out there?”
“Sure.” He opens the door for you and you step out onto the patio.
Lit by the soft glow of ambient solar lights, the garden unfolds like a hidden oasis. The centrepiece is a small, pristine pool, its turquoise waters reflecting the moonlight as if inviting a tempting midnight swim.
Your body clenches deliciously at the thought of seeing him undress to join you naked in the water - two water nymphs wet and writhing against each other.
Surrounding the pool, an array of vibrant flowers and lush greenery embraces the space. Potted plants adorn the periphery in terracotta homes, showcasing an array of herbs that hint at the culinary adventures Marcus enjoys embarking on in his kitchen.
The scent of lavender and rosemary lingers in the air, adding a fragrant dimension to the balmy Texan night that awaits you both.
As you settle by the pool at the small metal table and chairs under a large, sun-faded parasol, coffee cups in hand, Marcus shares more stories of his connection to the garden - his mother shaping his green fingered talent.
Inspiring him with a sanctuary of her own that blended the influence of his Latino heritage within the serenity of nature growing up as a boy. He also lets slip a little more about his life as a Heroic, and the fact his mother was his mentor and trainer.
“Was?” You query gently.
He nods with a dipped smile. “She passed just before I fully retired. Unexpected, but peaceful at least.” He summises quietly.
“I’m so sorry. She sounds like an incredibly formidable woman.”
“She was. She would’ve liked you.” He says with a pricking smile.
You smile under your eyelashes as you drink more of your velvety coffee.
The night unfolds under the bokeh stars, the inky expanse above causing you both to question and ponder jointly on some of life’s bigger questions and philosophies. Sharing a profound connection that transcends cultures and backgrounds to agree on more common threads that weave around you both, tethering you together further still.
Marcus, his dark-rimmed spectacles reflecting the glow of the night in the lenses, looks at you with a warmth that's far from the ordinary, what feels like hours later.
"You know, it's getting late. I could drive you home if you'd like?" He queries tentatively.
“Trying to get rid of me already, hmm?” You tease.
“God no.” He shakes his head vehemently. “Far from it.”
“I mean, I don’t wanna impose or anything.” You’re quick to add, realising that you’re probably keeping him up.
“No, no imposition at all.” Marcus assures. He reaches for your hand, slotting his fingers in yours.
“Good, because I believe I was promised more kisses, Mr Moreno.” You smile.
At that, he instantly pulls you closer to him by your seat; it scrapes across the patio and he engulfs your face in his giant hands.
“I never do this.” He says, panting after breaking the intense kiss. A kiss that he can feel igniting his whole body.
“You never kiss on a first date?” You gasp as you feel a flurry in your core.
“I mean, you’re my first date since… my wife.” He clarifies.
“I’d love for you to tell me about her some time.”
He nods. “I’d like that.”
"And it's okay. I don't usually do this either." You reassure. "But I really like it..."
"Me too," he smiles leaning in to kiss you some more.
As you sit by the pool, occasionally pressing your lips to one another for periods of time that wash away in a dreamy, pastel haze, the unspoken desire to extend the evening lingers in the air.
Marcus hesitates, a wibble of vulnerability in his voice as he clears his throat.
"Would you... consider staying? I’m really enjoying your company. I-I have a guest room, and you're more than welcome to use it." He tries not to physically wince as he lays it out bare. “I mean, I’m just enjoying your-”
“Would you like me to stay?” You question with your smile widening.
Marcus nods. “Yeah. I mean, if you want to. We don’t have to do anything, nothing’s expected. Just kissing you like this is really nice.”
“Yeah, it really does. You’re a really good kisser, Marcus.” You suck his bottom lip gently and he moans.
“Well, I really like to kiss. Feels good to have someone to kiss again.”
“I don’t want to stop kissing you all night.” You agree as he brushes his lips against yours, his moustache tickling.
“Stay? Let me hold you?” Marcus questions, although it sounds like he’s pleading with you through those strangled gasps as he tastes your tongue again.
You nod, wanting nothing more than to be wrapped up in his strong arms all night and to wake up in them. "Okay."
It feels right, natural between you. Two strangers who feel like they know one another inside out already - it’s easy with him.
And your attraction to him knows no bounds as you’re greedy for his presence and touch alike, and allow him to take your hand and lead you back inside.
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Marcus listens.
Listens to every small gasp that ebbs out of you as his fingers stroke over your skin, tracing over the areas that make you shudder and hitch your breath in anticipation.
He learns that you hiss a little when he kisses your neck, when he sucks your earlobe into his mouth and nibbles gently on it with his teeth.
He learns that you’re ticklish on your hips and you giggle into his mouth uncontrollably, snorting ungraciously a little, when he does it again, making him laugh in turn.
He respectfully traverses the route of your body, mapping it out with his fingers stroking the length of your arms, his lips pressed at the juncture of your throat.
He listens to recall and remember and to please you. God, he just wants to please you and leave you satisfied.
But he also wants to leave you wanting, craving more of him. Begging even… He takes his time kissing you, tasting you and touching you. Letting you unfurl in his hands like a tiny bud, blooming into something spectacular and colourful as he waters you.
The both of you are soon in his bedroom, unable to resist being parted from one another.
His fingers feel like tingly electricity zapping through your skin layers, and he explains that he can’t seem to control it around you as your lips peck at him under his jaw rendering him a quivering mess in your own hands.
It's a curious sensation, a subtle vibration with a pinch of static as the pads of his fingers graze your cheeks gently; it makes your blood fizz through your veins as you feel it pulse into your epidermis and pores.
“What other powers do you have?” You query, lost in the richness of his eyes, as he winds strands of your hair around his digits.
“Just this." He runs his pads over your lips and you feel that soft, gently muted vibration sink into the meat of them that makes you groan as it tingles into the depth of your jaw. "I’m pretty good with a katana too.”
"Are you boasting, Marcus?" You tease.
"I'll be happy to show you my sword wielding skills anytime."
You both laugh as he realises what he just insinuated.
“So you can’t fly?” You query, stroking under his chin. Your fingers trace a small, uniquely heart-shaped patch where no hair seems to grow on the left side. You watch as he closes his eyes and pushes his jaw into your hand further.
“No, I can. But with the help of a flight device.”
“A flight device?”
“Maybe I’ll show you. Take you up. In the sky.” Marcus muses.
“You’re going to take me to new heights, hmm?” You smirk.
“Well, I’ll certainly try,” he says, rubbing his nose against yours.
He grazes gentle, languid kisses down your neck, settling on the curve where your shoulder hilts.
He runs his aquiline nose there delicately, inhaling the faint remnants of your perfume with vanilla and coconut notes that makes him salivate.
"I'm scared of heights," you murmur dreamily.
"Well, I'll be sure to hold onto you extra tight." Marcus takes a hold of you, pulling you fully into his arms.
"Like this?" You whisper.
"Just like this." He says as he wraps them around your back.
"You won't let me go?"
He shakes his head. "Never."
You find yourself straddling his lap; your bodies simply moving of their own rhythmic volition as they slot into place effortlessly and without instruction or hesitation; his large hands sweep up your back as you kiss him deeply.
Your fingers roam in the softness of the greying silk of his bearded scruff. You explore the broadness of his shoulders, the tightness of his biceps over the soft cashmere, journeying over the wide expanse of him as he pulls you closer in his protective embrace.
"I don't want this to end," he murmurs into your shoulder.
"Me either," you sigh with a smile. “This might sound incredibly forward, but... I want you, Marcus,” you whisper into his mouth.
You can feel him pressed against you, hard and swollen in his pants and it’s difficult to ignore his desire when it so brazenly taunts your own.
“You’re sitting in my lap on my bed, I think we're past being forward,” he chuckles.
“True,” you giggle.
“Are you sure that’s what you want? There’s no pressure at all. I didn’t invite you here with an agenda.”
You nod with a keen smile. “I know. But I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life than I am right now. Do you want me, too?”
“I’ve never wanted someone so much.” He says with glistening eyes. “It’s been so long though. I-I don’t even know if I’ll be any good.” He gulps heavily and it wrenches your heart a little.
You press your fingers to his kiss-bruised lips and he can’t help but mouth against them. “Marcus, you're perfect.”
“Kiss me again,” he whines as he presses himself even closer to you.
Attaching yourself to his lips once more, he sighs contentedly into your mouth, tongue swirling gently around yours and sucking on your lips.
He holds his arms up as you lift up the hem of his sweater. Your fingers slide over the silk knot of his tie, undoing it. He loves that when you loosen it, you use it to yank him forward to kiss you deeper still, guiding him closer to your body to be tangled up with you.
You undo the buttons slowly on his shirt to reveal tanned skin and the broadest shoulders you’ve ever seen on a man.
A couple of scars dapple over them and his sternum, like white lightning streaks against the gold shimmer of his skin, and he shudders as you trail your fingertips over them delicately.
“I wanna know all about these.” You say beholding him. “You must have some incredible battle stories from your time in the Heroics.”
“I’ll tell you anything you want to know.” He promises.
“I wanna know everything about you.” You breathe as you feel him nibble at your collarbone.
“The feeling is incredibly mutual,” he replies softly as he brushes your hair from your face. “Can I take this off?” Marcus asks, running his fingers along the silken hem of your dress that’s ridden up your thighs.
“Yes,” you smile at his politeness despite the carnal heat running through the both of you.
He pulls it up over your head and audibly groans at your choice of matching underwear, lacy and delicate.
His eyes trail hungrily over your body and you don’t feel the need to cover up the lumps, bumps and stretch marks; the way he looks at you burns in your core.
“You're just…” words fail him as you smile softly. “Wow.”
“It’s been a long time since a man saw me like this.” You admit, a little shy. "My body isn't what it used to be."
“You’re stunning. I’m lucky that it’s me who gets to enjoy you. Besides, I'm not exactly in my best shape." He grimaces looking down at the small swell of his tum puffing over his slacks.
"I think you're sexy." You say.
"Yeah?" He queries with raised eyebrows.
"Mm, really sexy." You confirm, stroking over the soft fat of him.
"Is this okay? We’re not going too fast? I wouldn’t want you to feel like I'm only after one thing.” He checks.
“I don’t think that at all.”
“Good, because I really like you. I want to see you again.” He says earnestly.
“Me too.” You agree nodding.
“Is it too early to presume this might be the start of something really special?” Marcus asks with a crooked grin. "I dunno, I just feel it."
You shake your head. “I feel it too.” You agree.
He kisses you again and you taste the truth of his words.
“I wanna feel you too. You can touch me, Marcus.” You whisper to him. “I want you to touch me everywhere with those magic hands...”
He grins, and his hands, albeit shaky, massage over your mounds, trailing around to your back where he hesitates at the clasp.
“Take it off,” you murmur as he unhooks your bra and licks his lips as your nipples are revealed to him.
Leaning forward, he trails kisses across your collarbone until his lips find your nipple and he sucks gently whilst you rake through his subtlety greying hair.
A pink wet tongue teases over your skin as he licks, causing your back to arch, pushing your breasts further into his mouth.
“Mmm,” you whine as the pull of your nipple between his lips is felt buzzing on your clit in response.
“I can’t get enough of you,” he trembles, but his voice seems deeper somehow, with more of a heavy graze inside his cheeks. “I wanna make love to you all night. Discover all the ways to please you."
He kisses down your sternum just under your breasts. "I wanna make you come all over me…” He says between rasped breaths. “God, I want you screaming my name.”
“I want you inside me, Marcus." You gasp.
He groans at that. “I can’t believe this is happening.”
“Me either. But it feels so good.” You say, smiling at him.
You help him remove his pants until he’s in his boxers and lying back as you climb over him, leaning down to kiss him as his hands pull you closer to him.
The hairs on your body stand tall as his hands create that wonderful tingle to curl your spine out and your nipples to tighten.
The bulge in his boxers is unignorably prominent and you can’t abnegate yourself away from reaching down in between your bodies to feel him, squeezing over him gently as he grunts into your mouth.
“You feel amazing,” you whisper as he blushes. “I wanna taste you, will you let me?”
“Uh-uh,” he shakes his head, “that’s not how we do things in my house. Ladies come first.” Marcus smirks.
He rolls with you and you giggle as he kisses down your body to the thin hemline of your panties. He runs his hands up and down your hips and stomach, and you feel those tingly crackles from his fingertips ignite your skin once more.
He kisses and lavishes gentle nuzzles against your tummy, and you hum out feeling the soft tickle of his facial hair across it.
You lift your hips as he gently pulls down your panties, watching keenly as he kisses down your legs. He takes your ankle and rests your foot on his shoulder as he lays between your thighs.
And then, with a mischievous glint in his eye, Marcus transforms from hero to villain as he licks a long, lingering stripe up your pussy.
“Oh my God, yes…” You whine.
He looks up at you with molten brown eyes as he flicks his tongue back and forth over your clit and you sonic boom inside at the sight and feel of it.
He massages and strokes your inner thigh as he tastes you, running his tongue in and around your soaked lips and murmuring in keen delight.
The softness of his beard feels like liquid silk against your skin as his nose grazes and nudges your clit whilst he teases your hole, pushing his tongue inside you.
You reach down and pull off his glasses, giggling as the lenses are smeared with your slick already.
“You taste delicious.” Marcus husks before going back in for more, hungry for your as he laps and licks.
"Mmm, Marcus..." You whine, arching your back as you keen for more of his tongue. He presses it against your clit, sucks gently on the nub and licks and sucks through your drenched folds.
He makes you come with just his mouth, sucking expertly on your clit before he slips his fingers in, coming up to suckle on your nipple again as he pumps them in and out of you.
He’s astonished how wet you are for him; his fingers squelching and the sounds are lewd as he whelves.
“God, you’re so perfect,” Marcus says as he leans in to kiss you again: his beard his damp from your secretions. “So wet and tight. Does that feel good?”
“So good.” You groan.
“More?”
“More.”
He speeds up, fingers deep to the hilt of his knuckles. “Harder?”
“Yes!” You cry as you feel it overtake you, a mesh veil cast over your sight as the room fills with gold glitter.
“Marcus! Your fingers! Oh my God!” You gasp as you can feel those crackles again, only inside you now; deep in the pit of your core right on your spot, and your thighs shake uncontrollably.
He circles your clit with his thumb and the sensation completely overwhelms as you feel it there too, buzzing all the way deep into that fleshy hub.
Your eyes catch him smirking at you as he applies the perfect amount of tingly pressure. And that look in his eye tells you he knows exactly what he's doing to you.
You’re coming quicker than you can fathom, dizzy from the pulsing shocks and giggling uncontrollably at the delicious buzzing it creates.
“Jesus!” You yelp at him as he grins devilishly. “How do you even do that?!” You gasp as he pulls his fingers out and you watch, wholly spellbound, as he sucks them clean.
“Benefits of having a superpower, I guess. I used to think it was weird... having magnetised hands.” He remarks casually, as if he didn’t just rock your world with those digits of his.
“I don’t know how I’ll compete,” you say, pushing him onto his back as he kisses you.
“You’re perfect as you are, trust me,” he breathes, watching as you slide down his body.
You kiss over the soft swell of his tummy, lavishing it with wet kisses over and over as he gathers your hair inside his hands to watch you. You look up at him as your fingers slip into the fold of his waistband.
He nods, too dumbstruck to comment verbally as he watches you slip down between his legs and pull off his boxers.
He’s big - bigger than you anticipated, and so thick. You’re unsure how he kept it hidden in his pants all night. He’s perfectly uncut with a flush pink head that’s positively dripping for you.
You make out with his cock gently, barely mouthing over him with the gooey strings of his precum sticking to your lips like gloss, and making him hiss and gasp.
He’s well groomed and the subtle greys in the thatch of neatly trimmed hairs there at the base of him are just as soft as his beard.
You tongue his head, flicking back and forth over that drooling slit and taste the salt of him before teasing his frenulum that makes his hips buck involuntarily.
"Y-yeah," he chokes on a ragged whisper.
You take him in your mouth fully, and he groans long and deep, head lolling back as he feels your hot, wet mouth encase him and suck slowly down his length.
You can take him about three-quarters of the way before you feel him prod at the back of your throat, and although you're tempted to see if you can swallow him fully and press your nose against his soft belly, tonight’s not the night for ungraceful choking.
Although, your body flares at the thought of how uncouth and dirty he could be with you; imagining his usual politeness being traded for filthy demands as his huge hands press on the back of your head, forcing you to take him all the way down your throat.
You whimper around his cock at the thought, feeling your cunt contract and drip.
“You’re so good at that,” Marcus keens as he glances down at you.
Your eyes flick up at him as you smirk around your mouthful of him and it’s not long before he’s pulling you back up and kissing you with an intense hunger that steals the breath from your lungs.
He rolls you onto your back, and you instinctively wrap your legs around his waist as he grinds against your centre.
You whine as the length of him slides back and forth against your slit, soaking and greasing him up in your slick. The ridge of his head knocking against your clit builds you up again as you bite your lip staring up into his chocolaty eyes.
"Feels so good," you whisper, clutching onto him.
“Yeah? I don’t wanna hurt you, so I'll go slow, okay?” Marcus whispers as you reach for his thick cock and swipe him through your pussy lips.
You both shudder as you do it.
“You won’t.” You reassure him as you stroke him and he groans. “I want you inside me.”
He lines up, his swollen head dipping slowly into your fleshy folds as he lingers there, pushing gently and barely against your hole.
You’re so wet he could easily slide all the way in with one flex of his hips, but it feels too damn good already, and he’s apprehensive to finish so quickly before he’s even started.
“The things I wanna do to you...” Marcus murmurs bashfully.
“Sounds intriguing,” you smirk as he pushes in a little more. "Tell me, I-oh!"
You gasp as you feel yourself opening around him, stretching as his thick head pushes in further.
“We’ve got all t-the time in the... ahhh, world,” he breathes. “All the time to find... hmmm, new ways to pull you apart on my cock. My fingers, my tongue…” He grunts as he slides in.
“Mmm, fuck," you let slip in his ear and he groans.
“Fuck indeed,” he grizzles as he pulls back a little and slides in again, and hearing him finally curse makes your body shudder.
"You're so perfectly tight around me," he puffs.
“You feel so big,” you say, nodding in encouragement. “I want you to fill me up, Marcus.”
“Yeah?” He breathes as he slides in further. “Stop me if it's too much.”
“It’s not too much. It's perfect... you're perfect. Ohhh. More.” You pant. “Please, I wanna feel all of you. I need you.”
“You need me? You need my cock, hmm?” He teases with a grin.
“Mmm, I want it so badly.”
"I want you so badly."
You look down between you as he breaches fully, hips flushed tight against you as he bottoms out and you both groan, eyes pulled back to one another.
You grapple for him, desperate for him to kiss you again as he works his hips. Soft breathy pants fill your ears as he finds satisfaction and a steady rhythm within your wet warmth.
He’s gentle, but powerful; winding slowly, and buried so deep inside you. It feels like it’s too much, but not enough and you claw at his back desperately each time he withdraws and thrusts back in.
“Mmm, you’re so deep…” You murmur into his lips.
“It’s not too much?”
“No, you feel incredible.”
“You take me so well, hermosa.” Marcus praises.
“Oh, I forgot you speak Spanish…” You smirk, all glistening teeth at him.
“¿Quieres que te hable sucio en Español?” (Do you want me to talk dirty in Spanish to you?)
You chuckle, utterly beside yourself. “I have no idea what you just said, but yes. God, yes!”
He smirks into your lips as he kisses you again, his hips doing all the work with each, deep languid stroke.
“I love feeling every inch of you.” You pant as he speeds up a little.
“All of me... Every. Inch. Of. Me.” He thrusts on every syllable, deliberately making you gasp.
“You feel so good, Marcus. I’m gonna come soon.” You sigh, feeling it build behind your core muscles, cinching and tightening in that delicious wind before you snap back on yourself.
“I can feel you squeezing me. I bet you’ll look so beautiful when you come all over my cock. Come for me. Let me see you.”
He feels your fingers bruising in his skin, tastes your pants fizzing on his tongue like sherbet.
Sitting upright, he pulls your hips right up off the bed as he slips back inside you, fucking deep into you on his knees.
He hits all the right spots at this angle and your whimpers soon become loud hollers and yelps as he pushes against your spot relentlessly and tosses you into oblivion once more.
"Come for me," he pants.
You claw at the sheets; your eyes rolled so far back that you swear you can see the inside of your skull and all the swampy lilac clouds floating around in there. Your body sheens with sweat already, as does his; mercury drizzle, shimmering in the pale light of his bedroom lamps.
You’re almost there; a flutter in your chest as your heart flies away to be gifted to him with metallic ribbon curls wrapped around it. A building warmth, igniting from within, growing more wild like fire consuming and burning everything up in its path, scorches your skin.
An electric charge of anticipation, spurred on by the crackled pulses from his fingers around your hips, pulls your orgasm right out of you like ridding you of a hostile possession.
You screech as it leaves your bones.
“That’s it, hermosa. Come for me!” Marcus pleads with a hiss as you shake and gasp as he turns you inside out.
Pulling you upright against his chest, he’s stunned at you. “You look so beautiful.” He says, almost choking as your bonelessness.
“M-Marcus!” You wail, his cock buried deeper.
“Yeah, keep coming for me,” he encourages as he watches you wind and bounce on top of him.
You groan, throwing your head back and losing count of the number of times he’s made you come already.
You slow and grind on him as iridescent bubbles flow and burst around you; your thighs never-ending in their shaking, and he watches in rapture as you take his breath away.
“From behind?” You suggest breathlessly after a few moments of coming down from that tremendous high he throws you up to so easily.
“Anything you want, beautiful.”
He slides down your body, kissing the length of your back and all over your butt cheeks before spreading you open and tasting your pussy again with his tongue.
His lips never leave your skin, even when you turn around and bend forward with your ass up in his face.
He reaches down between your legs to stroke your clit. You feel him kissing the side of your head, nuzzling into you as he pushes himself back into you slowly. And the feel of him at this angle, this depth, makes you mewl as he hits deeper than before.
He stops for a moment when he sees you backing up and gyrating on the end of his cock, reaching round to grab the meat of his thigh and moaning incoherently at how good it feels.
“You look amazing doing that,” he drawls before holding onto your hips and drawing deep into you with slow, measured thrusts shunting through your body. “That feel good, like this?”
“Yeah… so good.”
“Mmm, I-I can barely stand it,” he pants. "I'm close."
“Come for me, Marcus.” You whisper to him as he fucks you faster.
“Mmm, oh God.” He whines as his hips start to snap harder, his grip around your hips squeezes tighter.
He's marvelling and gasping as he watches you shake again, shake for him. That he still has the power to make someone feel this damn good after all this time.
That he could fathom such a thought of making love to a woman again when he had convinced himself for so long he would endure his remaining years alone, his left fist as his only release.
But then you showed up, careening into his life through a device he held in the palm of his hand; laughing at his humour, smiling that incredible smile at him. Wanting to know more about him and just... wanting him.
And here he is, deep inside of you now and not able to get enough of how you squeeze around his cock bringing him to the brink of his own annihilation. You kill him and resurrect him, to do it all over again.
“I’m gonna come!” Marcus pants, cheeks and chest flushed a glorious pink amongst the natural bronze.
“So am I. Don't stop!” You wail.
“Where? I’m so close! Tell me where you want it...” He can feel it building and rushing towards the end of his cock.
“Inside me, come inside me.” You pant.
“You sure?”
“Fill me up until it’s all dripping out of me.”
“Fuck!” He yells. "Oh fuck!"
Marcus growls out that sweet blasphemy that makes your toes curl and your cunt clench as he comes, filling you up as you so coveted, as he spurts out inside you - warm, thick and plentiful.
A brief moment of his weight against your back crushes you into the bed as he flops down over you, panting and groaning in your ear.
Smiling, you turn and kiss the side of his face buried in the crook of your sweaty neck.
“That was incredible, you're incredible.” He whimpers, voice all muffled in your skin and hair a few minutes later.
He rolls with you, pulling you into his arms against his clammy chest as you both catch your breath.
“I can’t take all the credit, you were pretty incredible yourself there, Mr Moreno.” You grin.
“Yeah. Looks like I’ve still got it after all.” He puffs with a bewildered chuckle.
“No doubt about that.” You giggle and laugh with him, as Marcus wraps the comforter around you both.
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The soft hum of the morning unfolds around you.
Eyelids opening and lashes fluttering against his chest, you're accompanied by the distant sounds of nature awakening outside.
Marcus, still in the relaxed embrace of slumber, seems to embody the tranquillity of the dawn as you gaze up at him longingly.
His rhythmic breathing through soft snuffles, his heartbeat in your ear, resonates with the peaceful serenity that surrounds you in his downy sheets that smell faintly of his lingering cologne and your heady sex.
As you lay in Marcus's arms, you spend a few minutes contemplating the next exciting steps between you, when the prominent ache registers between your legs, which makes you smile as you recall the moment he first sheathed himself inside you.
It makes you clench around nothing and you moan softly in want, squeezing your thighs together at the vivid memory.
You’re compelled to kiss him, planting tender smooches across his chest and up to his neck, when he stirs and his lips find yours and latch on again.
Your hand slides down his sternum, over the warm, smooth swell of his stomach, and you find him stiff and weeping for your touch.
He grunts into your mouth as you pump him, fingers wrapped around his length as he hardens fully. His own digits course those pinpricking tingles down your spine again as you shudder and arch.
He bites his lip, eyes closing in satisfaction as you work his cock and feel it throb with need in your hand.
Soon Marcus slips in behind you, clutching you close to his chest; his fingers entwining in tight knots with your own. He fills you again, your moans surrounding him as he kisses and nips on the back of your neck, and it feels like a dream you don't ever want to wake from.
You’re full of him, sticky and drenched from the night of intense love making that never seemed like it would relent. His stamina surprised you both, but was incredibly welcome, alongside the equally surprising refractory period that will leave you aching for days.
You lost count of the number of times he was inside you. Unable to get enough of each other, wanting more, more, more and giving more, more, more.
“You’re so beautiful in the morning,” Marcus cants into your ear as he fills you to the brim, fucking softly into you from behind. “What did I do to deserve you?”
He wraps his arms tighter around you as you squeeze around his cock.
“Trust me, I'm the lucky one,” you whine as his fingers slip down and stroke over your clit bringing about another orgasm that prickles and tingles under his expert ministrations.
You soon sit in his lap, rocking back and forth on his solid cock buried deep inside you as Marcus nuzzles into your face. You work your hips riding him, his shoulders banging gently into the headboard.
His hair is a sleepy, wild mess with streaks of grey running through short curls you never knew he had under that tamed back style he had for your date, and he’s never looked more beautiful as they fall into face.
The way he looks at you makes you come again, with something so warm and so sincere swimming inside his lust blown eyes at you.
"So beautiful, hermosa," he murmurs with a smile at you.
He leans back on his hand, his other squeezing around your butt as you ride you both to a mutual intense finale of whimpers and names called out in desire and want.
After you still, feeling him seep out of you whilst he remains plugged inside until he softens, fawning and kissing over your face, you smile gently as you plant kisses along his silky jaw.
“Good morning,” Marcus smiles as you feel his lashes against your cheeks.
“Morning handsome.” You sigh dreamily.
“How did you sleep?” He enquires.
“Terribly. I had an incredibly attractive man between my legs for most of the night keeping me up.”
“That sounds awful.” He smirks as you kiss him again, and Marcus determines he never wants to stop kissing you or hearing your breathy giggles.
“Sleep is for the weak. It was amazing.” You say and he’s inclined to agree, on both counts.
“You hungry? You wanna stay for some breakfast?”
“I’d love to.” You smile.
“What are you doing later this afternoon?”
“Hmm, not much planned, will probably be thinking about you.”
“Is that so?” He enquires with a smirk.
“Mmhm. I have a feeling you'll be hard to forget.”
“Want some company whilst you think about that, maybe some lunch, too?”
“Sounds perfect. Perhaps we can drag ourselves away from each other long enough to go for that walk.”
“Doubtful,” he concedes and you giggle nodding in agreement. “But we’ll give it a shot.”
“You’re incredible.” You whisper to him and his eyes soften as you regard up at him.
It's been a long time since a woman looked at him like you are now.
“No, it's all you, hermosa, trust me.” He smiles into your mouth.
"I like that, that thing you say."
"Hermosa?"
"Yeah." You smile.
“Good." He kisses your temple. "Stay here, relax. I’ll make you some breakfast in bed. Then I’ll drive you home, okay?”
He winks as you watch him pull on his boxers and reach for a pair of grey sweatpants hanging out of the hamper.
“You spoil me, Mr Moreno.” You say, watching him pull them up his thick, muscular thighs.
“Mmm, I intend to. How do you feel about pancakes?”
“Ugh, my hero.” You swoon.
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“Dad?” Missy calls as he hears the front door open around twenty minutes or so after he’s arrived back from dropping you home.
Admittedly it was hard parting from you; kissing you with soft whimpers in the car outside your place, and basking in that post first date glow.
Marcus is hesitant to wash the scent of you off of his skin, convinced that if he does he’ll wake from this wonderful dream to find you’re not real.
A text from you, complete with an emoji purple heart, convinces him to stop being silly and that you are real, and last night and this morning was wanted and reciprocated in equal yearning.
He can't stop thinking about it, about you. His cock aches again as the images of you both wrapped up in one another flash behind his glasses.
Your message confirms the time for him to pick you up later and he smiles reading that you can’t wait to see him again. And to kiss him.
And to feel him inside you again...
“Hey,” he calls out from the kitchen, feeling heated as he tucks his phone away in his pocket.
"How was the date? Don't leave out any details!" Missy warns as she makes her way down the hall.
She comes in, putting down her bag and immediately spots the coffee cups and plates as he gathers them to wash up; clear evidence that he’s had some company this morning.
Then she spies his dishevelled appearance, clad still in the creased t-shirt and sweatpants he drove you home in, and hair that hasn’t been combed as he quickly rakes his fingers through it almost desperately.
She grins up at him as he tries not to blush, but fails. “I might omit some details.” Marcus says sheepishly.
“Must have been a hell of a date.” Missy mirths, perching on the breakfast bar stool.
“Well, she’s a hell of a woman.” He says, smiling behind his spectacles. "It was really... wonderful. She looked stunning, and we had a really great time together."
"Yeah, I bet you did." She remarks with a widening grin.
"Stop it." He groans, flushed.
“You’re glowing.”
“Shut up.” Marcus mumbles and fails to stifle a wayward grin.
Beaming, Missy watches him as he fills the sink with soapy water.
“What?” He asks after he can still feel her eyes on him.
“Are you seeing her again?”
“Yeah, later this afternoon for lunch.” He smiles.
“Good.” She chirps.
She comes up beside him, picking up a dish cloth and dries the dishes as he places them in the rack.
They both complete the task in silence, both trying to stifle their grins at one another.
Once done, she turns to him.
“I’m really happy for you, Dad.” Missy says, as she wraps her arms around him. He rests his chin on top of her head and smiles.
“Thanks, kiddo.”
“Go and shower. You smell like a slut.” Missy remarks.
"Potty mouth," he points at her with a mock-frown.
"At least I know where mine's been..." She grins.
Shaking his head in defeat, Marcus chuckles, blushing beet red, as he pads out of the kitchen and up the stairs, feeling more invincible than he’s ever felt before.
💜
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Thank you so much for reading my Marcus Moreno story (if you made it to the end, hopefully you did!) and I really hope you enjoyed it. I'd love to hear your thoughts about my version of him. Thanks so much! 🖤
MAIN MASTERLIST | MARCUS MORENO MASTERLIST
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My mom bought me this book for Christmas
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The Resurrectionist by EB Hudspeth, a fantasy field guide full of anatomical illustrations of monsters and cryptids.
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The musculoskeletal systems are fun to look at, but not nearly as in-depth as I would have liked. If you have more than a passing knowledge of taxonomy (or in my case, access to Wikipedia), a lot of the details fall apart under scrutiny
The harpy has four upper limbs connected to one shoulder girdle; it shouldn't have arms, only wings
The sphinx is not classified as a mammal, but is still somehow in the family Felidae with cats (and like the harpy is also drawn with only two girdles despite having six limbs. I will give the author credit for giving the sphinx a keel for the wing muscles to attach to)
It lists the Hindu deity Genesha as a cryptid, which is a no-no.
Cerberus is also explicitly not a mammal, but somehow still a canine (literally in the species Canis with wolves, dogs, and coyotes)
Both mermaids and dragons are listed as members of the order Caudata; the only extant members of Caudata are salamanders, which kinda makes sense for dragons, but not so much for mermaids (also, the author keeps playing it fast and loose with cladistics; both mermaids and dragons are in the same order despite being in different classes, and while dragons are explicitly said to be amphibians, mermaids are given the fictional class mammicthyes, which means mammal-fish. At that point, why not just call mermaids amphibians? Why make up a fake latin hybrid name?)
But what bugs me most of all is the classification of the Minotaur as its own order of mammal when in mythology it is explicitly described as a hybrid of two known species (made possible only by the cruel machinations of the divine, but still)
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To use actual taxonomical nomenclature, the minotaur's species would be B. taurus × H. sapiens (specifically B. taurus♂ × H. sapiens♀; there are, to my knowledge, no legends of H. sapiens♂ × B. taurus♀). That's how ligers, tigons, mules, zorses, pizzly bears, narlugas, etc., are described.
If I had written this book, I would have leaned more into evolutionary biology. Most land animals have four limbs because they all evolved from boney lobe-finned fish, which split off from the boneless sharks and rays millions of years earlier, so any six-limbed vertebrates would need to be descended from a fictitious category of six-finned fish which would either be an offshoot of boney fish/tetrapods (I guess they'd be hexapods, though that term refers to insect arthropods), OR a precursor to boney and cartilaginous fish that both clades split away from much earlier (it's easier to lose structures than to gain them, so it makes more sense for a six-limbed ancestor to spawn four-limbed descendants than the other way around).
Think about how different elephants are from humans, and humans are from aligators, and aligators are from penguins, and remember that they all evolved from the same ancestor tiktaalik, an amphibious fish that existed some 375 million years ago. Imagine a precursor six-limbed species and how diverse all its descendants would look after 400 million years. Save for the occasional instance of convergent evolution causing two unrelated species to independently evolve similar body plans to fill the same niche, tetrapods and hexapods would look nothing alike. There would be very little recognizable overlap between the two. A six-limbed "pegasus" would not look like a real world horse, and a six-limbed "dragon" would not look reptilian/dinosaur-ish, for much the same reason that giraffes don't look like frogs; they're just too distantly related. Bonless sharks and boney fish and whales/dolphins all have similar looking bodyplans only because their environment requires the same hydrodynamic shape, while terrstrial vertebrates are much more physically diverse.
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silent-stories · 9 months
Text
𝐒𝐖𝐄𝐄𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐓
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Pairing: Eddie x GN!Reader (reader is called "sweetheart" but there are no pronouns)
Summary: three times Eddie called you "sweetheart"
Warnings: blood, angst, fluff, cutting animals in biology class.
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The first time he called you by that petname, you were both in class, during a slightly unusual biology lesson.
Eddie entered the classroom as if the lesson hadn't started ten minutes earlier and greeted the teacher with a nod and a smirk, as if he were a friend of hers.
In response the teacher rolled her eyes and continued to explain how you were supposed to open and analyze the different organs of the frogs in front of you.
Eddie scanned the class for a moment before his gaze fell on the only open seat that day, which happened to be the one next to you.
He plopped down on the chair with a huff, crossing his arms over his chest before glancing at the dead animal on the desk in front of him with a disgusted face that made you chuckle.
"What?" He asked harshly without even turning towards you, as he took off his leather jacket and leaned it against the back of his chair.
The spring light that filtered through the windows of the classroom illuminated his skin and, observing him closely as you have never done before, you noticed for the first time that there were many small freckles on his nose and that the bat tattoo on his arm wasn't as perfect as it looked but faded and uneven.
"Is the cult leader disgusted by a little dead animal?" You laughed.
"Hellfire is not a cult." He grunted.
"Oh, I know." You chuckled and he finally looked up at you when he realized you were just joking and not remotely serious.
A smirk appeared on his lips just before the teacher called you back for being distracted and chatting and he went back to staring at the frog.
"And that's what you have to do with its stomach." She explained by taking a small knife in her hand and opening the animal. "If you think you can't do it, you can ask a classmate for help. I'll give you a few minutes and then I'll explain what you have to do with its heart, okay?"
In the following moments, you worked on your from like the rest of the class but out of the corner of your eye you couldn't help but keep following the hesitant movements of Eddie who, at that point you were sure, he had never held a knife except to cut his lunch.
It was so weird to think that the boy the whole school thought made sacrifices in his cult couldn't even cut a frog's stomach.
"Eddie."
"Mh?" He suddenly lifted his head, some curls falling over his face.
"Do you want me to... open your frog?"
Eddie stared at you for a moment and then against your expectation he burst out laughing with his head thrown back and some cute dimples springing up his cheeks. "Please, do it, sweetheart. I think I'm going to throw up."
You shook your head with a half smile on your lips before grabbing his frog and using your knife on its stomach, feeling his gaze on you as you did.
The nickname he used had a strange effect on you that you couldn't quite explain but you felt something different for the first time in the pit of your stomach.
Eddie, on the other hand, was already thinking he was head over heels for you.
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The second time it happened at the Hideout, after months of you starting to consider Eddie your friend and when he saw you opening the door of the bar he thought he was hallucinating but no, he wasn't on drugs.
"Hey, I...I didn't think you were actually going to come."
"Well, I told you I would come." You laughed as you sat down on a stool at the bar as Eddie nodded to Gareth, as if to tell him he'd be joining the rest of the band soon.
"Well, I thought you were joking or something like that." He said scratching the back of his head.
"Why would I to do that?" You chuckled.
"I don't know... people do that to me a lot. Nevermind, you look really good tonight by the way. Like... yeah, really good." As always, when he wanted to pay you a simple compliment, he lost the ability to formulate a sentence with any sense.
A voice from the stage caught your attention. "Edward Munson, could you please get your ass here and stop trying to flirt? You are terrible at it, by the way." Gareth announced into the microphone.
You laughed, hiding your face in your hands for a moment in embarrassment. "Thanks. I think... I think you should go."
"Disgusting!" Gareth commented into the mic, his eyes fixed on you, making some people laugh around the not too crowded local.
Eddie rolled his eyes. "See you later, okay Sweetheart?"
You nodded but when he had already turned away you spoke again. "You look good with eyeliner by the way."
The only comment received was a "bleah!" coming from Gareth.
Eddie hoped you didn't notice how much he blushed as he went on the stage.
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The third time happened after the Upside Down, after Master of Puppets, after the demobats, after the screams, the tears and the blood.
The room was quiet. Too quiet. Painfully quiet. You were scared that if either of you said something, you would burst into tears.
There were blood stains on the floor and in the sink.
Eddie was sitting on your bathroom counter, upper body bare before you, and covered in wounds. You stood in front of him, carefully tending to each bruise, cut, and bite that he’d gotten.
Even at that moment, knowing that he was okay, and would recover, you were riddled with fear. You couldn’t stop thinking about what could’ve happened, and how you had been only moments away from loosinf him, from finding him dead.
With horrible images forming in your mind, your hands tremble as you continue wiping the blood off of his skin, when he hissed in pain and flinched away from you, you quickly retracted your hand.
“I'm sorry.” You didn’t want to whisper, but you couldn’t seem to speak any louder, your voice strained and every word seemed to physically hurt to.
“It's okay.” Eddie assured you, offering a small smile. You just nodded slowly, then turn on the faucet, rinsing the bloodied washcloth with warm water just as you’d done once already.
Tears formed in your eyes, and you founf it harder and harder to hold them back by the second. As you turned of the water and began to wring out the wash cloth, you looked at Eddie. That was you broke, and the tears spilled from your eyes.
He leant his head against yours, pressing a sweet kiss to the crown of your head. “Hey, talk to me." He murmured gently rubbing your back with his hand.
You were almost shaking, trying to gather yourself enough to speak.
"I don’t want to lose you," you confessed, pausing to inhale shakily. “I was so fucking scared when you cut the rope. I mean, I really felt sick, Eddie. I don’t know what I would have done if we didn’t get to you in time and God, i just..." you paused, sighing. “I love you so fucking much,” you murmured, other tears beginning to fall from your eyes.
Eddie stayed quiet for a moment, processing your words. However, when he felt your tears on his skin, he gently cupped your cheeks to make you look at him. “you didn’t lose me, though,” he assured you, his voice also shaking now. “I'm right here, aren’t I?” He asked, pressing his forehead against yours. Slowly, you nodded.
That was the moment you both realized how close you were to each other, how little space there was between your mouths and that you wanted that space to be even smaller, to disappear.
"Sweetheart." He breathed.
This time it was almost like a warning, it was almost like he was telling you not to. Like he knew being with him was some sort of a curse and he didn't want you to go through what he's been through in his life. Like he was afraid that if you kissed him at that moment then it would be too late to tell you to turn your back and run as far away from him as possible, that he only brought trouble and nothing good ever came with him.
"Eddie, I love you." You repeated looking into his eyes. His dark and still fearful pupils seemed to tell you "don't do it".
But his heart said something else. And his heart always chose you.
"I love you too."
He kissed you first.
Or at least, that's what he believed but he wasn't very sure in reality. It was as if he understood that you weren't afraid to be with him at the same time that you understood that he wanted you too and you attracted each other's like magnets.
His lips were soft, more than you expected or ever imagined but he also tasted like blood.
A flavor that shouldn't have been there but that didn't make you pull back.
You cupped the back of Eddie's neck and his hands found your waist, pulling you closer to him.
"You will be okay. We will be okay." You whispered when you broke kiss in need of air.
He stayed silent for a brief moment. "Promise?"
"Promise."
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Tags: @jacklesdeanvessel @morning-sky7 @pipsqueakkitten @navs-bhat @michaelfuckinglangdon
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theemporium · 9 months
Note
Pretty sure you asked for this!
Blurb choice one: Sirius jealous cuz reader on a date with some other marauder!
number two: reader doesn’t like marauders but meets up with their anamiguis forms a lot. Doesn’t know identity of animals.
I’m so bad at spelling, no pressure to do one, love your writing!
these are both so cute but i just had to do the first one!! thank you for requesting!🖤
.
“Is he still glaring?” 
“Oh yeah, he’s pissed.” 
“Really?” 
“I think he’s planning how he’s going to kill me.”
You couldn’t help but let out a snort. “He brought it on himself.” 
And Remus Lupin couldn’t help but agree with you. 
He adored his friends, he truly did. He loved them with each and every single one of their flaws. He would always love them no matter what. But sometimes—just sometimes—they needed to have their buttons pushed and their stubbornness challenged. 
The friend in question being none other than Sirius Black. 
Sirius was known throughout Hogwarts for being a charmer. He was a flirt, a huge one even. He would flirt with anything that moved and most people knew it was harmless, that it was just a part of his personality and it became something that people adored him for. However, the second Sirius caught actual feelings, he would shut down. 
And that was exactly what happened to you.
It was like a flip that switched overnight. One day you would be sitting next to each other in class, giggling and whispering and sending each other notes to make the other one laugh until a professor told them off. And then the next day he was avoiding you like a plague, shoulders tense and face stoic whenever he spoke to you. 
Sirius wasn’t good at dealing with emotions, especially when they were as strong as he felt for you and he would panic. He would shut down, almost like a survival mechanism to stop him from getting hurt. 
But he didn’t realise you got hurt instead. 
That was why Remus stepped in, because he saw what his friend was doing and he knew nothing he said to Sirius would make him change. He needed a push, he needed something to fuel him. And what better than jealousy?
It was why Remus brought you to the Three Broomsticks, telling you his plan as you both slid into a booth that was directly in Sirius’ line of view. It was why Remus had made a show of putting his arm around you, whispering in your ear about how red in the face his friend was. 
It was why Remus took you out on the makeshift date in the first place, if not to push his friend then to at least cheer you up.
However, the final button was pushed the second Sirius saw Remus twirl a strand of your hair around his finger, a smirk on his lips and his eyes slowly moving down your face—and it was too much. He needed to step in. 
“You two look cosy!” Sirius commented, a false smile on his face as he stood in front of the booth, staring down his friend. 
“We are, thanks,” Remus replied, biting back his laughter when he squeezed you closer to him. “It’s probably one of the best dates I’ve ever been on.” 
Sirius narrowed his eyes. “Really?” 
“Totally,” Remus smiled. 
“You’re gonna make him pop a blood vessel,” you laughed as you playfully smacked Remus’ chest, missing the way Sirius’ jaw clenched at the action.
“What? It’s not like Sirius has a problem with our date,” Remus mused, a knowing glint in his eyes as he looked at his friend. “Right, Pads?”
Sirius scoffed. “You’re a bastard.” 
“That’s not an answer,” Remus sang, enjoying the way his friend squirmed on the spot. 
“Just fuck off already,” Sirius huffed as he nodded towards the table he had been sitting at earlier, where the rest of their group was watching the interaction in amusement. 
Remus didn’t say anything but the smug look on his face said more than enough as he slid out of the booth, patting Sirius on the back before he headed off. Sirius, though, was still pouting as he slid into the booth next to you. 
“You’re lucky you’re still pretty when you pout, Black,” you teased lightly, nudging him with your elbow until he turned to face him. 
“You think I’m pretty?” Sirius murmured, his cheeks flushing. He was aware he was attractive, he wasn’t stupid. But for some reason hearing you say it made his stomach erupt with butterflies.
“The prettiest,” you nodded. “Even if you can be a bit of an idiot.” 
“Let me make it up to you,” Sirius said, his friend now the last thing on his mind as he reached to take your hand in his. 
“You’ll have plenty of dates to redeem yourself, Black,” you assured him, the promise of multiple dates in the future making him smile.
.
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byhees · 1 year
Text
high-school boyfriend.
엔하이픈 ・ female reader + word count 1700 genre fluff established relationship high school au warnings not proof-read kissing skinship petnames mention of food, rain — more
a/n. revamped version ><
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heeseung
even though you both aren’t in the same classes, he’d always try to spend as much time as possible with you; would often offer to walk you to your classes, despite his own being on the other end of campus; would walk you to and from school, even going as far as to take your usual bus to accompany you home— he’d be more than willing to take a detour, or four, for you; while walking you two might even take a break, and grab a few street snacks from nearby stalls.
if it were to rain, he’d tag along with you on your bus trip, wanting to keep you company— and to shield you from the downpour, because you had a tendency to forget your umbrella; playing little games with one another, because what better way to pass time than to carry out a raindrop race? “i bet two dollars that that raindrop will pass the finish line first”, and you’d be met with a, “hah, you’re so on. my bet’s on that one”; gawking at the window with such anticipation and excitement, unintentionally making brief eye contact with passers-by.
him draping his school blazer over your shoulders, so that you’d be warm in the midst of the chilly rain; “what’re you—“, and in an instant, he’d cut you off with, “nope, nope, no protests, baby”.
would purposely bump into you in hallways, just so he can say, “oh wow! not even fate can separate us from one another, babe”.
jongseong
a little bit clumsy and forgetful, but he’s got the spirit! the type to go “huh, we had homework?” right before the teacher enters the classroom; being the very loving, amazing, stunning girlfriend that you are, you’d give him gentle reminders of the upcoming examinations and assignments.
little ‘tutoring’ sessions in the library; well, if you could consider giggling over absolutely nothing and doodling random animals on the side of your workbooks, tutoring?
would proudly show off his little bento boxes after every cooking club session; “look, babe! this is what we made earlier today, pretty cool, aye?”; and when you happen to forget your lunchbox, he’d scoot over to you, offering you half of his metal tiffin with a small smile. “good thing i made extras this morning! want a bite? i even got your favourites!”; is willing to give you his portion in a heartbeat. “don’t worry about me! i can manage, y’know? it’s more important that you’re well fed! after all, you’ll be busy later on, right bubs?”
jaeyun
given his love for maths, he would definitely have some liking towards little math-related pickup lines— in fact, he would’ve went out of his way to search ‘lines to absolutely blow my girlfriend away with my charms’; funny thing is that you’d actually get flustered over them.. one example would be the infamous 128 √e980 question; he’d ask you, in a very inconspicuous way, to solve it, no explanations given— and when you gaze at him with full-blown confusion, he’d cover half the expression, the words ‘i love you’ staring back at you.
the type to create weird code-names for practically everyone— shares it with you, and only you, because he likes the specialness of it; it’s a unique little way of communication that you two have.
would buy an extra portion of his usual sandwich, and leave it by your tabletop; “breakfast is very important, babe. can’t leave it out, m’kay?” he’d say, draping an arm around your shoulder to pull you close to his side.
would plant little kisses on your cheek before parting for class; “don’t miss me too much, baby!” he’d chime, a cheeky smile tugging on the corners of his lips.
sunghoon
would, very coincidentally, forget his textbooks nearly every day; he’d often come up to you with a pair of pleading doe eyes, and go, “babe..? i kinda need to borrow that calculus book again..”— it genuinely leaves you wondering if he comes to school empty-handed; whenever he hands the book back to you, he’d always mention one page in particular— “make sure you flip to page 233, okay?”; every time you do so, you wind up seeing a piece of folded-up paper tucked between the pages. unfolding it, it’d read something like ‘i love you my little mcmuffin’, or ‘it seems that you get impossibly more beautiful every single day’. alternatively, he’d do something like a post-it puzzle, where each post-it would be a part of a big picture.
would doodle little drawings on the corners of your notebooks; it might be a small portrait of you, it might also be a shaky drawing of shrek, you never know.
loves giving you his hoodies because he finds that you look really endearing in his oversized clothes; a bonus if his name is embroidered in the corner of the outerwear— never fails to bring a little smile to his face.
sunoo
would be a little more shy in terms of his expressions of love; definitely the type to buy subtle matching accessories, like rings or bracelets, because he thinks that they’re pretty cute— gets ones that he thinks would compliment you the best.
has a whole candy, or chocolate, supply in the front pocket of his backpack, because he knows that you love snacking on little snacks when stressed; slides it on your table with a small smile— “here… for you, love”, and you’d simply melt right then and there.
the type to embrace you from behind, and nuzzle his nose into the nape of your neck, a bashful grin playing on the corners of his lips; “good luck for your exam, love”, he’d mumble, eliciting a soft giggle from you.
jungwon
is so, so clingy; practically misses you 24/7, without fail. and he isn’t one to hide this, despite being in the middle of a class— in fact, he’s so criminally unsubtle with it as well; he’d be staring at your direction for ten minutes straight, clearly standing out from the rest of the class, whose heads are turned to face the whiteboard; gets caught by the teacher, and makes excuses like “oh, there’s a gigantic bee near the window”; would shamelessly pass notes to you in class— whispers to his seat partners to “give it to yn, please”. they’d probably say ‘i miss you so much, i can’t even concentrate’, or something along the lines of ‘were you formed by water eroding rocks over billions of years? because you are GORGE-ous’.
shares his earphones with you during lunch, or when you both are waiting for a bus by the bus stop; makes cute little playlists for you— titles them as words that remind him of you, like ‘pretty’.
has a habit of linking arms with you; being little menaces and walking down the hallways that way— “i’ll walk you to literature, how about that?” he’d ask, flashing a sweet smile, dimples making an appearance.
riki
loves to bother you like it’s his favourite pastime; is seated right behind you in nearly every class, and so, he has the very amazing privilege to tease and bother you infinitely; “hey babe,” he’d lean forward, tapping you on your shoulder. following which, he’d tilt his head, leaning close to reduce the proximity between your faces. he’d then whisper into your ear, “wingardium leviosa”— and he’d just shuffle back to his seat, as though nothing had happened.
likes stealing your stationery, because he lowkey finds that irritated pout of yours, adorable; purposely holds it high up above his head, arm outstretching towards the ceiling, because he’s well aware of your height difference— another point to tease you with.
has a habit of planting soft kisses on your forehead— loves the way the corners of your eyes crinkle, and the way your lips curve up in the wake of a grin; loves resting his head on your shoulder because it makes him feel at ease.
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taglist open! @halcyoni-ki @wondipity @yjjungwon @shysakuno @niktwazny303 @vnsux @minhosify @haechansbbg @yeomha @stepout-09-15 @chansburgah @sona-verse01 @lilly-bubblelops @smouches @mrchweeee @luvistqrzzz @nwjws @ibsysbsfsunsbs @rikisly @amyysfics @mixtape-racha @berry-and-kkami @rikislady networks! @kflixnet @enhanet @k-labels
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kaiijo · 2 years
Text
the housewardens crushing on you
characters: riddle, leona, azul, kalim, vil, idia, malleus notes: gn! reader, descriptions + mentions of food/eating, Idia’s takes direct inspo from the vignette “that party animal from class” other crushes: first years
riddle rosehearts
Bless him, Riddle is so high-strung around you. He just wants to give off the impression of being someone who is refined, dependable, and put-together, which he is under normal circumstances. But with a crush on you, he's constantly caught off-guard by your praise and compliments and seems to permanently have a red face.
“Are you sure all the roses are red, Trey?” Riddle asked, eyes sweeping the garden for what felt like the hundredth time. And, for the hundredth time, Trey assured him that yes, the roses were red; the mouse in the teapot had a smear of jam on its nose; and, per rule 228, as it was Wednesday, no one picked any flowers.
“Why’s the housewarden so tense today?” Riddle heard one Heartslabyul student ask. His friend responded, “I don’t know, it’s just another Unbirthday party.”
Riddle huffed, the urge to collar them growing, though he refrained. It wasn’t just another Unbirthday party, it was the one he personally invited you to, so it had to be perfect—or at least close to that.  
Trey placed a comforting hand on his shoulder. “It looks great, Riddle. This could be the best Unbirthday party that we’ve put on.”
Riddle nodded, silent, still examining the area for anything out of place. Then, he heard Cater’s loud voice, followed by Deuce and Ace’s, and then yours. He straightened and brushed down his uniform just as you entered the garden.
“Merry Unbirthday!” Trey cheered, prompting the other Heartslabyul students to follow suit.
You laughed, “Thanks! This all looks great!”
“Riddle did most of it,” Trey said. “He picked out the tea and pastries and everything.”
Riddle shot a glare at Trey, who just smiled and winked back at him. With a rapidly reddening face, Riddle motioned gracefully to the table at the center of the celebration. “The guest of honor sits there.”
“Aww, this is so awesome, Riddle!” you said as he led you, pulling the chair out for you.
“Thank you. I wanted you to have the merriest Unbirthday.”
“Well, this certainly looks very merry,” you said. “Can I try one?” You pointed at the cookies neatly piled on the tiered tower.
When he nodded, you added, “Actually? Can you pick one out for me?”
“Me?” he asked, his collar feeling too tight and too hot all of a sudden. When you gave an affirmative hum, he paused and thought hard. You often stayed away from super sweet treats and he had seen you go for the carrot cake as your after-dinner dessert… Riddle pulled out one of the spice cookies, holding it out to you.
Cookie still in Riddle’s hand, you leaned forward to take a small bite, flavors bursting immediately. You savored the slight heat of the cookie and enjoyed the way the flavors made you think of autumn. “That’s delicious!” you said. “Did Trey make these?”
Riddle looked away from you to try and hide his blush. “I did, actually… with Trey’s help.”
“Incredible,” you said. You waited until he faced you and said, “I want to thank you for this again. I don’t think anyone’s ever done anything this nice for me before.”
Riddle’s face went bright red.
leona kingscholar
You have to look past Leona’s gruff exterior and scathing sarcasm to figure out that he likes you. To the untrained eye, it’s hard to tell but when you know what to look for, it’s much easier. Ruggie figured it out pretty quickly when he saw Leona going out of his way to help you multiple times even if it inconvenienced him. For Leona, his actions are a lot louder than his words.
For Crewel’s class, you had to get a plant from the botanical garden and study it. You had actually spotted Leona earlier, luxuriating on a bench in a sunny patch of light. You didn’t say anything to him, knowing better than to disturb him during his midday nap.
As you and your friends surveyed the gardens, you stumbled upon a bright red flower with equally vivid green leaves that you had never seen before. You reached for it but before you could touch a petal, a strong hand caught your wrist. “Are you stupid or something?” You looked up to see Leona glowering at you, ears flicking.
“Sorry?”
He motioned to the plant. “That’s a Coccineum Solani. If you touch it, it’ll spit out poisonous liquid,” he said, dropping your wrist.
“Oh.”
“Yeah, maybe you should pay attention in class more, then you wouldn’t need saving.”
“That’s a little rich coming from you.”
“I at least know better than to touch a plant that looks like that.” He continued, “Don’t you know that bright colors in the wild can mean something’s dangerous?”
“I think so.”
He rolled his eyes and said, “You’re lucky I was here or you’d be dead on the floor.”
“You’re right,” you said, grinning at him. “You’re my hero, Leona!”
His ears twitched and he asked, “What were you even going to do with the flower?”
“It’s for Crewel’s class, we need to bring back a plant to research.”
He pointed to your left, at a lilac flower. “That’s a hibiscus flower that’s native to the Sunset Savanna. Go pick that, it’s not poisonous.” He turned, saying over his shoulder, “I’m going back to nap. Try not to make a racket.” He didn’t go back to his original spot, though. Instead, he laid down on a bench near you, telling himself that he was only doing it because it was close and he wanted to get back to sleep fast.
azul ashengrotto
Azul crushing on you is pretty sweet. He’ll get more flustered around you, slipping out of his calm and collected self more frequently. He draws up contracts and makes deals with you as a way to spend time with you, even though it would be a lot easier to just ask you. He also gives you discounts to the Mostro Lounge and makes up some super lame excuse when Floyd and Jade ask about why you’re the only one receiving them.
The week of finals before winter break was always pretty hectic. The library was filled to the brim with students checking out books for classes or trying to find quieter places to study than their dorms. You were no exception, searching for a very specific book on animal linguistics.
You ran your finger over the book spines as you went down the aisle, finally finding the book you were looking for. However, before you could pull it out, you heard a voice from behind you. “If you’re studying for Professor Trein’s Animal Linguistic test, that’s not the best book to use.”
“Hey, Azul,” you said, looking over your shoulder at him with a smile. “Which one would you recommend, then?”
“A Complete and Comprehensive History of the Origins of Animal Linguistics,” he answered. “There’s only one copy in the library and I’ve already checked it out.”
“Oh,” you sighed, shoulders slumping.
Azul quickly added, “I can share it with you, if you’d like.”
“Really?” You eyed him, half-joking, half-serious. “What’s the catch?”
“It’s a small price,” he said. You waited, nodding for him to go on. He fixed his glasses and cleared his throat, saying, “You’ll study with me.”
“That’s your price?” If you had looked a little closer, you could have seen the growing pink on his cheeks. “Isn’t that more of a disadvantage to you?”
He shook his head quickly. “No! I-I’ve read that studying with someone else boosts productivity and success.”
“Where’d you read that? Because studying with Ace and Deuce doesn’t—”
“Somewhere,” he said, a little too hastily. He adjusted his tie and asked, “So, do we have a deal or not?” He summoned a golden contract and a pen. With a small smile and a shrug, you signed your name on the line.
“Excellent,” he said, rolling the contract up. “I’ll see you in Octavinelle tonight? Around five?”
“Yeah, that sounds good!”
As you retreated, Floyd sidled up next to Azul. “Aww, it’s funny to see you get this red, Boss! You look like Goldfishie!”
“I’m not red,” sniffed Azul, though his face said otherwise. He looked at Floyd with narrowed eyes. “Don’t you have a shift at the Mostro Lounge right now?”
“Yes, but it’s so much more fun to see you with a crush! You look so squeezable when you’re with them.”
“Floyd, get back to work.”
kalim al-asim
You have to be very oblivious to not know that Kalim has a crush on you. From the way his cheerfulness grows exponentially when you’re around to the flirty and respectful touches to your shoulder and arm to the extravagant gifts he gets you that come all the way from the Scalding Sands.
As you placed the new necklace that Kalim had given you into your jewelry box, you took a step back and stared into the box. In the past weeks, Kalim had gifted you a bunch of stuff: jewelry made of real gold with real gems, specially handmade pots for your succulents, silk blankets and shirts, finely woven carpets. He had even commissioned the one-of-a-kind jewelry box you were looking at.
There weren’t any special occasions that prompted any of this. Your birthday was months away and the holidays just as far in the future. You appreciated the gifts, but a) they would take over your room soon, b) you didn’t need all this, and c) you sort of felt that you were taking advantage of Kalim in a way, even if he was giving you all this unprompted.
As you walked past the gym, you heard the squeak of shoes and the rhythmic dribbling of the basketball. You peeked in, seeing Floyd, Ace, and the man you had been looking for. “Jamil!” you called, and said man paused his drills, tucking the ball under his arm and walking over.
“Do you need something?” he asked, not unkindly. When you nodded, he said, “I’m guessing it has something to do with Kalim?”
“Yeah.” You shared your concerns with Jamil, and he listened patiently, nodding.
“I’ve tried to tell him to stop,” he said wearily. “Or at least to slow down. But we both know that Kalim isn’t the best listener.”
You opened your mouth to respond, about to say that it was so sweet but so unnecessary of Kalim, when you spotted him out of the corner of your eye, approaching from down the hall. He shouted your name, bounding over. Jamil glanced at you as you shifted your attention.
“Hey!” you said before noting the object in Kalim’s hand. “Is that—?”
“You mentioned that you were looking for a new hand cream,” he said, taking your hand and placing the bottle in your palm. “It’s my mother’s favorite and her hands are always really soft and nice.”
“Oh,” you said. You looked at Jamil, who just used his eyes to point at Kalim. You knew what you had to do, squaring your shoulders. “Kalim, I need to talk to you.”
“Okay… that sounds scary,” he said and you gently grabbed his elbow, leading him away from the basketball club.
You took a deep breath, collecting your thoughts. “All your gifts have been super nice, Kalim, but I think it’s gotten a little excessive.”
“Oh.”
He visibly deflated right in front of you and you hastily added on, “It’s no that I don’t appreciate them, I really, really do. It’s just… I don’t know, I feel like I’m using you? Does that make sense?”
“Not really. I’m giving them to you because…” For once, Kalim seemed almost shy, shifting his weight. “I’m giving them to you because I really care about you, I think as more than a friend.”
vil schoenheit
Vil doesn’t actually act a lot different than before now that he has a crush on you. He really just ups the ante in trying to impress you — taking a lot more time with his makeup and outfits, working constantly to improve himself so he could be worthy of you. He made conscious choices to try and incorporate things he knows you like into his routines. If you like sparkly eyeshadow, he’ll wear more sparkly eyeshadow.
Vil was a little surprised when he heard you had joined the Equestrian Club. It wasn’t that he thought you hated horses or anything, it was just that  you never mentioned it before, and while Vil admired horses’ majesty and strength, taking care of them was not the cleanest of things to do.
When you had caught wind that Vil canceled Film Studies for the week, you were shocked, and you were even more shocked when he, instead, showed up at the stables, dressed in the prettiest riding gear you had ever seen.
“Vil! What a nice surprise,” you said, finishing with tacking up your horse. “I didn’t know you were interested in horseback riding.”
“I figured I should try it, it’s quite an elegant sport.”
“Right!” Your horse nudged your face with its snout and you giggled, reaching into a small pouch on your belt and pulling out two sugar cubes, feeding them to her. “Here, I’ll help you set up.”
After you finished tacking up Vil’s horse, the two of you led them to the ring, where Riddle, Sebek, and Silver were already taking some warm-up laps. “Vil,” Riddle said, trotting over to the two of you as you mounted your horses. “This is quite a surprise.”
Vil smiled coolly, replying, “I’ve always had an interest, but I had responsibilities to the Film Studies club before.”
Riddle nodded and said, “Just follow us, we’re not doing anything taxing today, just letting the horses stretch their legs a little and maybe we’ll bring them out.”
Vil nodded and as he got his horse moving, you saw how much of a quick learner Vil truly was, as he eased into riding in no time with bits of advice from you and Riddle.
“I must say,” Silver said as Vil passed his horse, “you’ve gotten this pretty quickly.”
“You look so elegant,” Sebek said. “Of course, not as elegant as the Young Master—”
“Sebek,” Silver sighed out, exasperated.
“Thank you,” Vil said, moving his horse forward to ride next to you.
“They’re right, Vil! I’ve never seen anyone learn so quickly,” you said.
“You’re very sweet,” he said. “I did have a very good teacher, after all.” He gave you a warm smile and walked his horse ahead, and you were glad that he did so he wouldn’t see catch you placing a hand on your rapidly warming cheek.
idia shroud
Please handle Idia with care, he’s very fragile when he has a crush. He doesn’t have the confidence to approach you in-person and often settles for watching you from afar and sometimes from his room through the cameras he set up around school. He doesn’t do it to be creepy, he really is just that helpless.
You were leaving class when you saw the most unlikely quartet of Kalim, Rook, Cater, and — the one that made the group unlikely — Idia. The panic and obvious distress was written very clearly over Idia’s face and you figured that you’d help bail him out of this.
Kalim spotted you and waved. “Hey!” The other three turned around, and Idia looked like he was about to faint. “We were just about to head over to Scarabia!”
“Oh? What’s the occasion?”
“We’re going to get to know Roi de sa Chambre better,” Rook said and Cater nodded along enthusiastically. You glanced back at Idia, who was bright pink with visible beads of sweat on his hairline.
You nodded before turning to Idia, asking, “Isn’t there a new event for that game that you like? I’m surprised you’re choosing dinner over that.”
“I-I—” Idia stuttered before opening his tablet. yeah!! im super excited for the event! i really want to play it asap
“Oh!” Kalim jumped a little. “Why didn’t you say so? We’ll let you do that, but you owe us a meal, yeah?”
“Aww,” Cater said, pouting. “So no Idia?”
Rook clapped a hand on his back. “But we’ll still get delicious food!”
“That’s right!” Kalmi cheered, “Jamil’s still cooking.” He turned to you and asked, “Want to tag along?”
“No, I actually want to check out the game too. But definitely another time.”
As the trio made their way to the Hall of Mirrors, you saw Idia let out a deep breath. He wouldn’t meet you eyes though, keeping them glued to his screen as he tapped away. tysm!! idk what i would’ve done if you hadn’t stepped in!
“You looked like you needed help. But I wasn’t lying, I’m going to check the event out too.”
you play??
You nodded. “Yeah! Actually—” You pulled your phone out. “Give me your ID so we can be friends.”
You saw his face turn a deeper pink. Your phone buzzed and you saw a text from an unknown number with Idia’s player ID. “Cool!” you said, turning to walk back to your dorm. “I’ll add you as soon as I get back!”
If you looked back, you would’ve seen Idia’s hair flare up.
malleus draconia
Malleus has been isolated for most of his life, so he doesn’t have a lot of experience with crushing on someone. At first, when he begins to develop feelings for you, he seriously believes that he just has a stomach ache. Either he figures it out or Lilia tells him, but he eventually does acknowledge his feelings. He’s so, so soft with you when he has a crush; he doesn’t want to scare you away so he’s generally much gentler with you than others.
“Oh, I didn’t know anyone would be out here this late,” you said, walking onto the sports field late at night. Malleus stood in the middle, staring up at the night sky. You approached, stopping to stand beside him. As you breathed out, your breath puffed in the brisk air.
“I didn’t expect anyone this late either,” he said. “What brings you out at this hour?”
“Couldn’t sleep. You?”
“I like the night air,” he said. “And watching the stars reminds me of when Lilia would take me to the roof of the castle in Briar Valley.”
“Ah,” you said, sitting down on the grass and patting the space beside you. “Do you miss Briar Valley often?”
He sat next to you and answered, “I suppose so. It’s not all the time but I get aches for it now and then. It felt simpler then, but it was…”
You waited for him to continue and when he didn’t, you gently prodded, “It was…”
He considered his words carefully. “Solitary,” he finally said. “Even though I had Lilia and Silver and Sebek, it was quite solitary.”
You nodded, not sure how to reply and you don’t think that Malleus expected one from you. The two of you sat in a comfortable silence, listening to the wind rustle the leaves in the trees and the chirps of crickets and other nocturnal creatures in the distance.
You pulled your cardigan tighter around you. You hadn’t anticipated it being this cold nor did you think you would be sitting in one place for so long. Malleus noticed your slight shivering and he slipped his blazer off, placing it on your shoulders. You looked at him. “Won’t you be cold, though?”
He shook his head. “I don’t get cold often.”
There was no room for argument in his reply but you still felt guilty, so slowly and carefully, you scooted closer to him until your arms and legs brushed against each other. You felt him tense a little and then relaxed, not moving away. He leaned into you lightly, and you didn’t move away either.
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