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gurugirl · 1 year ago

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The Big Tease | bfd!harry

*photo is for t-shirt placement visual only. please picture who you like as reader.

best friend's dad!harry x reader - forbidden relationship au

Summary: based loosely on this request - Harry comes to your place to make sure you're taking care of yourself and you find that as hard as you try to tease him, he's not giving in to you and then some high emotions are exposed.

Word Count: 7.8k words

Warning: 18+ only, NSFW, smut, angst, age gap, cheating

bfd!harry masterlist

You tried not to feel guilty about what you were doing with a married man. Your best friend’s dad. It was hard when it came to keeping it a secret from everyone. Keeping it a secret from Fae.

“Where’d you get this?” Fae brushed her fingers over the pretty little bracelet Mr. Styles gave you a few nights before. It was gold with three round light-colored opals in the center and two round-cut tiny diamonds on either side. It was dainty and sweet and you knew it was expensive after googling the brand and finding the exact item available online and in high-end shops nearby.

“Ahh… my mom and dad got it for me a while ago. Just haven’t worn it in a long time. Forgot it about,” you lied with a shrug. Lying to her made you nauseous.

“Really? How could you forget about this? It’s gorgeous! Looks really pretty on you too,” she complimented and you frowned as you looked down at it.

You hated lying to your best friend. But what could you do? You certainly wouldn’t admit to your affair with her father. And of course, you weren’t quite feeling guilty enough to put an end to it either. Mr. Styles was the best you’d ever had and you were completely smitten with him.

When you two finally made it back to your apartment after shopping and eating and stopping at the ice cream shop for a treat you’d also forgotten all the lovely flowers you had sitting around your living room and kitchen.

It had also become a thing where you’d get the most exquisite bouquets delivered to you every Monday morning. Peonies, roses, phalaenopsis orchids, and gardenias all stuffed with hardly any filler. You knew the bouquets he was sending you were hundreds of dollars a pop. But they were breathtaking.

You quickly assessed in your mind whether or not you’d removed the cards from them which would have given everything away should Fae see. Unlocking your door and letting yourself in first you quickly glanced around and the freshest bouquet clearly still had its card poking out of it. You made a beeline across the room as Fae closed your door behind her and plucked the tiny card out, crumpling it in your hand, and then bent down next to the table to pretend you were doing something else.

“Those are so pretty, Y/n. Oh my god. Do you have a flower service or something?”

You had three bouquets placed around your living room. One was clearly old and some of the flowers were drooping, losing their vibrant colors, while the newer ones were full of soft pinks and purples, crisp white and cream…

“Yes. I decided to start treating myself to nice flowers every week.” You smiled. Another lie. You couldn’t afford a weekly delivery of these kinds of flowers and if Fae bothered to research how expensive bouquets like this were she’d have questioned you further. But luckily she didn’t.

The bracelet, the flowers, your glow… all things she noticed, could have been an indicator of a lover but as far as you could tell she hadn’t connected the dots. Or at least she didn’t voice it to you.

Of course, everything could be explained. But she was your best friend. If you weren’t more vigilant, she’d be catching on soon, you were sure.

. . .

The following day after a morning shift at the restaurant you arrived home and collapsed on your couch. It was exhausting. The restaurant was only open for breakfast and brunch on the weekend (where normally it’s only a dinner spot the rest of the week) and it was slammed. Mimosas, eggs benedict, fancy French tarts, and pastries, huge parties of people, music, guests nursing hangovers… The restaurant was well known for its weekend breakfast and brunch with bottomless mimosas and Bloody Marys. The clientele were usually upper-class folks who didn’t mind spending $35 for their mimosa and then only ordering 2 when they could have had as many as they wanted. A local creamery provided butter, yogurt, and milk for your special breakfast dishes, and a bowl of fancy yogurt and some in-house granola was $15. The cheapest food item on the breakfast menu. The cheapest item on the menu was a cup of black coffee, refillable. Unless you ordered the free tap water.

You got lucky to eat anything while you served breakfast. It was typically too busy to take a bite of anything. But the tips were excellent because everyone was usually in a great mood.

You were startled awake by your phone vibrating in your back pocket. You’d fallen asleep without even realizing you’d closed your eyes.

Pulling the phone out from under your body you realized it was Harry calling you (he normally didn’t call unless it was prearranged).

“Hello?” You sat up as you answered.

“Baby! I was worried. Are you okay? I didn’t hear back from you.”

Harry had a thing where he wanted you to text him when you got home from work to let him know you made it safely, even if it was a morning shift. He was always so worried about you but you kind of loved it.

“I’m fine. Sorry! I fell asleep as soon as I sat down on the couch. God, I’m so exhausted. Fae was here late last night and then I had the breakfast shift so I only had like four hours of sleep…”

“Hey, it’s okay. I was just worried. I texted you and then never heard back. Just started to panic. Have you eaten?”

You smiled and his soft deep voice made you feel so comfortable and safe, “I haven’t eaten yet. I had a bit at work but just passed out as soon as I got here.”

“So you’ve only had something to eat at work? It’s already dinnertime, Y/n.”

Harry did have a tendency to sort of scold you like he was your dad. Maybe it was ingrained in him in some ways. To try and take care of you and remind you to do things like eat.

“Geez, Dad. I’ll get right on it,” you teased.

Harry was silent for a moment, which had you worried. Perhaps calling him ‘dad’ had been unwise.

But then suddenly his voice broke through the line, “I’m coming over. I have a feeling you don’t have any groceries and I’m gonna make you dinner. Something to eat.”

You scoffed, “I mean… I have food here. I will eat. You don’t have–“

“I’ll be there within an hour,” he interrupted and you nodded to yourself.

“O… Okay. Um… yeah. In an hour.”

. . .

You quickly showered and tossed your dirty clothes into your clothes hamper so they weren’t strewn about your bedroom floor. You tidied up and kept yourself busy until he finally arrived. You were getting all worked up knowing he was coming over.

You didn’t know what he had been telling Mrs. Styles about why he was leaving or when he’d stay with you overnight, or spend hours in your bed every week. Though there were times he could only come over quickly, most of the time he stayed with you long enough that he’d need a good cover story. You kind of hoped you could have him for the night.

When he knocked at your door and you opened it up for him you saw he had his hands full. One arm around a sack of groceries and in his other hand the bag he normally packed for when he was staying the night.

You smiled when you saw his handsome face and ushered him into your small apartment. He leaned in to kiss you quickly, “Just showered?” He asked.

“Well yeah,” you spoke as you closed the door and followed behind him to your kitchen, “I didn’t have the chance earlier because I fell asleep as you know,” you laughed.

“Mmhmm…” he grunted affirmatively as he began to remove the grocery items from the bag one by one.

You saw tomatoes, fresh basil, flour, mushrooms, cheese…

“What are you making?” You picked up the container of buffalo mozzarella and then looked at Harry.

“Margherita pizza. One of my favorite little recipes my mom used to make.”

You placed the container down, pulled his arm to drag him toward you, and stood on your tiptoes to kiss him.

He immediately paused what he was doing and wrapped his arms around you, deepening the kiss and then giving you a taste of his tongue.

But then he pulled away with his signature teasing smirk and went back to his task.

“You brought your bag. Gonna stay the night with me?”

He nodded as he folded the paper bag up neatly and then looked at you, “If that’s okay. Have to leave early, though.”

If that’s okay.

You laughed to yourself and nodded, “Of course, it’s okay, Harry. God, what I wouldn’t give to have you with me every–“ You stopped what you saying when you realized how suddenly serious that thought was. You did want him every night. You wanted him to yourself but you hadn’t discussed that with him before.

Harry placed the neatly folded paper bag down on your little counter and then pulled you back toward him with his hands on your hips, “Yeah? Every…? What? Every night? Want me every night, baby?” That same sneaky, devious smirk on his face had you melting and warm.

“I just meant, you’re always welcome,” you slid your hands up his chest and bit your lip. You were a little embarrassed that you admitted that but it was obviously too late now.

“I’m always welcome or you want me every night? Which is it?” He gripped you harder so you couldn’t escape his questions, his gaze.

You puffed a breath out through your lips with a laugh, “Both.”

He loosened his grip and brought a hand to your face, his eyes fixed to yours, “Both. I’d much prefer to be here with you every night too. Would if I could.” The thumb that trailed over your cheekbone and to your temple was soft and loving. You knew he meant what he said.

Harry’s pizza was superb. Your oven wasn’t quite right, he kept saying as he baked it but to you, it was the best thing that had ever come out of that cheap appliance.

“Usually like to make this in a brick oven. The one I’ve got in my backyard, but this will do in a pinch I suppose.”

Your mouth was full as you nodded, “So good.”

Harry laughed at your stuffed cheeks and the way you were gobbling down what he’d made.

“Aren’t you going to eat more?” You asked him finally when you’d swallowed your bite. He’d only had one slice.

“Already had dinner. But I wanted to feed you. Make sure you’re taking care of yourself.”

For some reason with a tummy full of Harry’s pizza and the kind gesture of his cooking to help take care of you had you reeling and needing more than just food.

Of course, it would have been impolite to just abandon cleanup but you were suddenly aware of how his sleeves were pushed up his forearms and how his dimples were extra deep accompanying his attractive smile. And his hair looked too tidy, you needed to get your hands in it. Needed to get him out of his clothes. Get those long fingers around your neck and touching your body immediately.

You set your plate down on the small kitchen table you were both sitting at and slid your hand up his thigh, “Oh is that why you came over here? The only reason?” You grinned and he leaned back into his chair and looked at you, keeping his own grin in check.

“Need to make sure my girl is healthy. Has everything she needs.”

“Yeah? And sometimes I need more than just food too, Mr. Styles.”

Harry crossed his arms over his chest and spread his legs slightly as you continued moving your hand upward, “Oh I know, sweet girl. You need a lot of things, don’t you?”

You nodded, “What about you? Do you need things too? From me? Anything I can help you with?”

Now his grin was breaking out over his face but it was cheeky, playful, “Of course I do.”

But he wasn’t giving in to your little game. He liked having you be the one to ask for it. You didn’t know why but he loved hearing you beg him. You always resisted begging. At first anyway. Sometimes he’d give in without you needing to.

“And what do you need from me?” You stopped short of putting your fingers over where you knew he was tucked under his pants. The obvious natural bulge he sported giving away where he normally liked to position himself.

“Whatever you’re willing to give me, love. But I’m here because you needed to eat first and foremost. And you needed some groceries.”

You laughed and skipped over his lovely cock and put your hand up to his chest, scooting your chair in a little closer, “I’ll give you anything you want, sir. All you have to do is ask.”

Harry smiled and licked his lips slowly, “I’m as content as I can be here with you right now. Could sit here all night listening to you talk. S’that what you want? Want to touch my chest,” he flitted his eyes down to where your hand was before looking back into your eyes, “and my thighs, and chat all night about my pizza making skills and your lack of healthy food?”

You folded your lips into your mouth to keep yourself from laughing. He was playing a game of chicken with you. You really wanted to win this time.

“Well, that does sound really nice. You’ve filled me up so good with your yummy pizza. Guess I don’t need anything more than stimulating conversation with you if that’s all you’re interested in.”

Harry swallowed and breathed a laugh out of his nose, “Fine. Pizza and conversation it is.”

You wanted to huff in frustration. He still had his arms crossed over his chest, just under where your fingers were toying with the buttons on his shirt. He wasn’t giving in. But you had a thought.

“I’ll be right back.”

You hopped up from the chair and pranced to your bedroom. If he wanted to tease so would you. Stripping off your sweats you dug out your thin white Hey Lover t-shirt and tied it up just under the center of your breasts, and black cheeky boy short panties. You’d pretend you were only getting comfy since it was already late in the evening. He’d know what you were up to but you could play it off like you just wanted to get into your comfy house clothes.

When you got back to the kitchen Harry was already cleaning up.

“Hey, let’s do that later. Wanna sit and talk a bit.”

Harry tsked you, his back still turned as he wrapped up the rest of the pizza in foil, “I worked hard on this. Don’t want it to go bad. You can go sit–“ when he finally turned his full gaze back to you he stopped mid-sentence. You saw his jaw clench and his nostrils flair.

Not fair. That was not fair of you.

You knew your top especially was going to drive him mad. It was thin and your nipples were poking through the material and he could certainly see the shadow of the deeper color of your areolas popping through.

And he did. You noted where his eyes roamed, pausing over your tits for a good few seconds before licking his lips and turning back around to finish his job.

“Go sit.” He said without a single note of sweetness or desire.

You smiled to yourself as you walked into the living room and sat on your couch. Putting on a little music you selected a good little playlist that you knew he’d like.

Trying to act as unbothered as you possibly could you found a comfortable position on the couch and leaned into your cushions as you waited for Mr. Styles to join you.

It wasn’t long before he was casually strolling into the living room and sitting on the couch, leaving a few feet between you two. He draped an ankle over his knee and sat back, looking totally cool and unbothered.

You stretched and gathered your hair into your hands to expose your neck as you spoke, “So, how was your day today, Mr. Styles? You already know all about mine.”

Harry nodded slowly as he looked at you, keeping his eyes on your face, “Normal. Woke up and worked out, read an article, and played some golf with a colleague. That’s it really. Now here I am feeding you and entertaining you with conversation,” he grinned and you saw his eyes quickly take in your neck.

You smiled and sighed, “Sounds nice. I’ve played golf a few times. I’m terrible at it, though. Once a guy who took me tried to straighten out my stance but it did no good. No matter how many times he helped me adjust my grip or pushed my legs to spread them out properly it just didn’t work,” you chuckled. It was true. You’d gone with a guy a couple of years back on a date. He was flirting with you when he tried showing you the proper way to stand and hold the club but it turned into making out in the golf cart and a quick fuck in his car before he dropped you at home.

“S’that so? He probably wasn’t a good player either if he couldn’t give you any tips to help you improve your game.”

You shrugged, “I don’t know. I think he was more interested in getting my clothes off than anything,” you kept your eyes on his to asses but there was nothing there that indicated jealousy.

You had to amp it up. Do something to make him lose it. Wanted to watch him thicken up in his pants.

Dropping your hair you tucked your legs under yourself and turned to face Harry. You knew he was trying his hardest not to let his eyes drop below your neck. He knew he’d be fucked if he took in the way the soft cotton stretched over your breasts.

“Anyway. Are you any good?” You allowed your own eyes to take him in fully. His composure was sure to falter at some point.

“Yeah. I’m all right. I can hold my own.”

His short answer was not exactly what you were hoping for but you didn’t let it deter you. For some reason, his standoffish behavior was getting you even more worked up.

“Bet you can hold your own. You’re just so naturally good at everything you do,” you moved your finger over your tummy, keeping your eyes on his, “I know first-hand.”

Harry raised his brows and the movement of your hand over your torso and then down toward the top of your panties had him dropping his sight to where you were softly ghosting your fingers along the elastic band. You tugged at the knot on your shirt before moving your hand back up toward your chest, your thumb pressed between your thin cotton t-shirt-covered tits.

He watched your fingers and then looked back up at you, “Do you? And what do you know of my skills?” He smiled softly. Still appearing totally unbothered.

You sighed and tilted your head, keeping your eyes on his before stretching your arms over your head and allowing your shirt to lift the tiniest bit, revealing the bottom of your breasts. You only put your arms down once you were satisfied that Mr. Styles had gotten a good look, “Well, for example, you just made me a pizza that was to die for. Also, you recently got promoted at work and now you’re some big shot,” you unfolded a leg from underneath your bum and stretched it out, pressing your bare foot onto Harry’s thigh, “And I’ve seen you work out,” you nudged his muscled thigh, “You put men half your age to shame. You’re so athletic…” you began to pull your foot away but Harry gripped your ankle and pulled your leg to drape over his thigh making you smile in triumph. Though you’d not yet won this round, he was clearly giving in to you bit by bit.

“Hmmm…” Harry nodded and hummed quietly. He kept his hand on your shin and his eyes a safe distance from anything below your chin, “I know I’m good at a lot of things. Can make you dribble all over your chin by just pulling my pants down,” he licked his lips, “Feel like that’s a great skill of mine. What else…” his hand began to brush over your leg softly and you scoffed at him but of course, he was right. You both knew it. He made you drool and whiney and hot. He didn’t even have to do anything.

“That was one time. And you had your fingers in my mouth. It wasn’t because of your cock,” you lied. Well, his fingers in your mouth did have you drool down your chin and when he pulled his pants down, he teasingly pointed out how your chin was shiny and you’d dripped saliva down your neck and to your chest.

“No? Hmmm… but you were so desperate to get it in your mouth that you tried grabbing me and when I told you to be patient you whined and drooled all over the floor. You can pretend all you want, little girl. I see what you’re trying to do.”

You watched as his hand traveled up your leg and past your knee to your thigh, “Wearing this little getup… trying to seduce me. So desperate for me. But you’re gonna have to try a lot harder than this, Y/n. You can lie to yourself and pretend you're not bothered and change the subject and show me your pretty tits all you want. S’not gonna change the fact that you’re gonna wind up a messy little puddle begging me for anything I’ll give you. Isn’t that right?”

Your mouth dropped open in faux shock. He was right. But you weren’t ready to give up yet.

“Whatever you say, Mr. Styles. I know you like having your ego stroked. So go ahead and keep telling yourself that you’ve got the upper hand. We both know you’re already folding. I can sit here all night and chat with you like this if you want. Doesn’t bother me one bit.” You folded your arms across your chest with a grin.

Harry laughed quietly and shook his head. You were fun. He loved these moments with you. Loved giving you a hard time. Loved when you gave him a hard time. He softly pinched the inside of your thigh and you laughed, attempting to pull your leg away but he held you in place, large palms keeping your leg over him, fingers digging into your skin.

“Darling, you forget who you’re dealing with. I’m not the one resorting to skimpy clothes and trying to hide how turned-on I am. I see you trying to keep your legs pressed together. Hiding something,” he jutted his chin toward you and looked over the spot between your legs where he knew your panties covered up a tiny secret.

You wore black panties on purpose. Any wetness would be easier to hide, but keeping your legs pressed together could ensure he didn’t see the wet patch that had begun to spread. However, the way he was holding your leg over his lap made it quite difficult for you to not open your thighs a little.

“You just love to imagine that you’ve got me all bothered. But you’re wrong. I’m totally fine.”

Harry smiled and pulled at your leg further, causing a small yelp to slip out from your mouth followed by a tiny bit of laughter at the way you lost balance when you were pulled toward him, your other leg being tugged at to drape over his thigh.

“Good. Then we can just sit here and talk about the weather and maybe politics if you’re into that. Or is there another topic you had in mind since you’re so keen on just sitting chatting all night?”

You steadied yourself, back against the cushion as you pressed your legs together again and looked up at him innocently, “Randy called me the other day. Said he missed me. Apologized for being rude when we were together. That was nice to hear. The apology,” you wiggled your hips to fix your seating so you could appear more casual, despite having your legs in Harry’s possession over his lap.

Harry’s large palms ran up the outer sides of your thighs slowly before dragging back down to just above your knees, keeping his eyes on yours, “Oh really? Thinking about getting back with him then?” He spoke trying to tamper the playful smile on his face.

You snorted a laugh and grinned teasingly, drawing your fingers across your breasts, “Nahh… I can do better. I mean… maybe if I’m desperate and just need to scratch an itch. You know? Being a single girl gets hard at times. My dildo is only gonna give me a small taste of what a man can. Even if he’s not great in bed.”

Biting the inside of his cheek he nodded with dark eyes, “Would be such a shame to waste a good fuck on Rudy like that when you’ve got me at the helm. Of course, you're too stubborn to admit it. All you have to do is ask.”

You sighed and dropped your hands to your lap with a pout, “Randy. His name is Randy. But anyway… I don’t have to beg Randy to fuck me. He’s never pretended he was unbothered by me. Always quite straightforward really. If he wanted sex all he had to do was tell me. You on the other hand,” you poked your finger into his arm, “like making it hard for me, which is quite impolite. So I’m okay with not having sex if you just aren’t up for it.”

Harry pushed a laugh out through his nose at your tease, “Rudy sounds like a fucking bore. And he never gave you an orgasm. Either you have really bad taste or you’re just a tease. I have a feeling I know which it is, too. Little girl likes to play games. I can play games if you want. But you know I’m gonna win.”

You knew he was right. You wanted his cock but he wasn’t budging. All you had to do was admit it. Ask him politely. And you would when you couldn’t handle it any longer but you were having fun and the back and forth was like foreplay for you.

He kept one hand grasped around the outside of your thigh while his other smoothed inward, fingers pushing your thighs apart the tiniest bit and then gently dancing upward. If he moved his fingers too far up he’d feel how damp you were already.

“I’m not playing games,” you spoke matter-of-factly, watching as his hand traveled over your skin, “I can just tell maybe you’re tired Perhaps you’ve had a long day and it’s almost bedtime for you. I mean I get it,” you laughed in preparation for what you were about to say, “When you get to be your age things just slow down a little. It’s okay if you’re not up for it tonight, sir.”

Harry pulled his lips into his mouth and closed his eyes as he laughed at your attempt to provoke him.

When he looked back at you his expression was serious as he pried your legs apart, swiping the pad of his pointer finger right over the wet material of your panties and raised his brows as if he was shocked. Though you knew he was goading you, “You know goddamn well that my age has nothing to do with my libido. Difference between me and you is that I have incredible willpower and I know that you’re gonna be begging me to stuff your pussy before the night is over.”

You laughed and shook your head, “Nope.”

Harry pressed his thumb right over where your clit was already aching and grinned, “Yep.” Popping the p for emphasis. “See I’ve already got you soaking your panties. Goosebumps on your legs. Your nipples are hard. Your face is warm. I bet your heart is pounding too, just wishing you were getting the life fucked out of you right now. And you could be,” he spoke lowly as he slid a finger under the fabric of your panties and smoothed it over your skin, but not touching your crease or your clit like you hoped, “If you just admit it.”

You noticed that his cock had plumped under his pants. A good sign, you figured, “Nothing to admit. I might be turned on but I can hold out. In fact, I’d bet you’re not in much better shape with your cock swelling up like it is. You need this wet pussy to soothe that big dick, don’t you?”

Harry’s undisturbed body language was a concern because even though his prick was growing harder by the minute, you were starting to boil while he still seemed unphased.

“Oh, honey…” Harry smiled at you like you were a pitiful thing, “I’m doing just fine. In fact, probably just gonna fuck my own fist before we go to bed since you’re so stubborn. Maybe I’ll let you watch me too. I’ll be just fine. Just love being here with you. We don’t always have to have sex.”

You clenched your jaw and huffed imagining that scene. Having Harry yank his cock with his big hand until he was coming on your floor. You’d want to lick it up off the floor too. Scoop it all up and swallow it down. He had you obsessed with his come. Well, with him in general.

You tried to think of something to say but your brain was stuck on the image of him slowly stroking his fat cock and saying filthy shit to you while you tried to hold it together and not give in to your own urges.

“What’s wrong, baby?” Harry lifted a hand to your face and brushed his thumb along your jaw and up over your cheek, “Need to tell me something?”

Your lips parted and you breathed out a small whimper and squished your eyes closed. Your determination was crumbling with his soft touches.

“S’okay. If you don’t mind,” Harry pushed your legs off of him and quickly began to unbutton his pants, “S’getting tight in there…” he pulled his pants down just a touch so that the bulge under his briefs was now poking out and he had a bit more space to breathe.

He pressed over his erection and straightened himself out and suddenly the tip of his cock was peeking out over the band of Calvin Kleins. You closed your eyes again and tried to will yourself to not give in to him. But what was fair was fair. You were teasing him with your body and now he was returning the favor.

When you heard Harry chuckle you opened your eyes to look at him and your head was fuzzy. He was literally mouth-watering. He’d unbuttoned his shirt so you could see his tattoos and the large erection poking out from his briefs was like an actual cherry on top of it all. You licked your lips and swallowed down your saliva as you stared at his swollen head. It looked like something you could just pop into your mouth and suckle on if you weren’t so stubborn.

But Harry loved how stubborn you were. You really did make him work for it. You were exciting and sweet and he loved the way you teased him.

“If you want some you can have some, sweetheart. I know you’d like a taste. S’right there for you if you just ask politely.”

You groaned and looked away from him but your eyes were burning and all you could think about was straddling his lap and pushing his briefs down so you could fuck yourself on him. You were actually vibrating and pulsing you were so turned on.

And when you thought about it all… how this was all just a game anyway. How you both knew you’d end up with his come dribbling out of your cunt and satisfied and fucked out before you went to bed you laughed, “Fuck it…” you said as you crawled yourself over his lap and Harry’s hands found your hips, “I want you. Okay? You win.”

He had a pleased smile on his face when he felt you press your soaked panties over his briefs and plaster your lips over his in finality.

He would have laughed and teased you for giving in but he was thankful you did. Because he was aching for you.

You were desperate too. You pulled away from the kiss and put your hands down to his briefs and pushed at the material before sliding the crotch of your panties to the side and letting your wet hole kiss his tip softly as you looked into his eyes, “Can I please have it?”

Harry’s smirk fell from his face the moment you began to lower yourself, coating him in your slick arousal, “Yes. Take what you want. Fuck…”

The music was soft and you could barely hear the lyrics as you began to work yourself down and up along his length. You moaned as you felt him poke deep and keened, sucking in a sharp breath, “So thick…” you panted.

You were wetting Harry’s briefs and the tops of his pants but he didn’t care in that moment. He’d take care of the issue after you were done, “Yeah? Needed to stuff yourself with my cock didn’t you darling? Feels good?”

You nodded and held onto the back of the couch as Harry moved his hands from your hips up to the bottom hem of your top and pushed the material up so he could finally look at your pretty breasts. His favorite. He leaned in and suckled your tit into your mouth and you gasped softly.

You began to ride him a little faster, sticky slick noises coming from between your bodies as you writhed up and down his cock.

“Harry!” You shouted his name in a desperate plea. You didn’t know what you were pleading for but you just wanted more. His tongue and lips and teeth on your tits and his heavy, hard dick inside of you were really all a girl could ask for.

Harry moaned and licked over the spot he nipped next to your nipple and moved his lips over your soft flesh as he spoke, “Poor thing… so needy for me. Should have just given in the first time I told you to, baby.”

The couch under you squeaked gently as you rose and fell over him. The relief of having him inside of you had you tearing up.

Harry tilted his head back to look at your face. And just as he expected you were completely insatiable. Your expression was hungry and lusty with your lips parted, a pained look across your features.

Harry cooed at you and slid his hands up from your soft breasts to cup your face and make you kiss him. Your mouths moved together slowly as you shifted over him, slowing down a little now that your mouths were connected.

Harry pulled away, keeping his hands at your face, “Slow down a little bit. Here…” he dropped one hand to your hip and stilled you, pushing you down all the way over his shaft until you were firmly seated in his lap and his tip was stuffed so far inside of you it hurt making you whine and quiver.

“Like that. Just sit and feel me. No need to hurry. Gonna always take care of you. Okay?” His lips pressed over yours again and you moaned into his mouth.

You acted as if you were starved. You canted your hips slightly to glide your clit against his pelvic bone and he gasped and pulled away again, “I know you need it, baby. Just slow down. You were so desperate weren’t you?” He thumbed at your cheek and wiped your tears with a grin, “Always my good girl. Aren’t you?”

You bit your lips and whimpered as you nodded. You felt like a pathetic girl. It was like the moment his cock was inside of you all your good sense flew out the window and you were a melty, needy puppy in despair, deprived of attention and love. You needed more and more and more every time he entered you. It only got worse as the months crawled on and your affair got more serious.

“I wanna be your only good girl. Please…” You slid your shaky fingers into his hair and smoothed your lips over his with a tremulous breath.

Harry rocked upward, dipping into your sensitive insides and you gasped again, parting your lips from his.

“Look at me, Y/n…” Harry spoke as he moved a hand to the back of your neck.

You locked eyes with him and your sad little pout had him leaning in to give you a soft kiss at the corner of your mouth before he looked back into your eyes, “You’re my good girl. No one else. Just you, baby. Understood?”

You nodded and sniffled, “But I’m not,” You jutted your bottom lip out like a child and felt ridiculous. You didn’t know what had you so emotional suddenly. Maybe it was the build-up and all the teasing. Or the way you always gave in to him and he was so cool and secure in himself while you were shaky and desperate.

Harry moved a hand down your back and kept his other hand brushing softly over your cheekbone, “Yes you are. You’re mine. You’re my only.”

You didn’t want to say it. Hated to bring it up but you couldn’t help it or you thought you’d explode if you didn’t tell the truth, “But you’re married. I might be yours but you’re not mine.”

He hadn’t quite expected it. You knew the situation. He couldn’t just leave his wife of 20+ years. It didn’t work that way. But to hear you say it was… well it gave him pause.

“Okay. I am married. But I’m here with you right now, Y/n. Because I’d rather be here with you. Wish I could be here every night. And I would if I could.”

You nodded. You knew he’d prefer to fuck you rather than his wife. That part was understood. But he’d never actually choose you over her when it came down to it. “I know. I’m sorry for bringing it up. I just… I’m starting to…” You swallowed the words your heart wanted to reveal but you stopped, “Just want to see you more I think. Once a week or every other week isn’t good for me. Need you more. I think that’ll make me better. I’m sorry… I don’t know –“

Harry shushed you and stroked your back softly, “I want to see you more too, baby. Should we think of a way to make it twice or three times a week even? Will that make it better?”

You smiled and nodded, “Three times a week? Oh my god…” You kissed him and squealed at the idea of having him three times a week.

Harry laughed and nodded, “If it makes you happy. Didn’t know you needed more, honey. Didn’t want to make you sick of me.”

You laughed in return and shook your head, “I could never be sick of you, Harry. I’m…” You stopped yourself once again. The words on the tip of your tongue but that wouldn’t be fair. To you nor to him. “I’m happy you want that too.”

Harry’s fingers on your face felt soft and comforting, “Of course I want that. I want you happy. And that would make me happier too.”

You felt dizzy with love and excitement as you pasted your lips to his and began to rock your hips slowly again.

You knew you were selfish. Knew you were getting in too deep but you didn’t care. Maybe down the road one day it would hurt but for now, you would be happy with anything he gave you.

Suddenly Harry shifted and brought his arm to cradle you close as he laid you down flat on the couch, his thick cock still inside of you. But now he was hovering over you with a dark smile on his face, “I need to fuck you like you’re mine. Show you I mean it,” he said as he pulled your legs up, calves pressed over his shoulders, and began to roll his hips into you. The springs in the couch cushions danced under your back and creaked as he picked up the pace.

You coughed out a moan and squished your exposed tits together. You still had on your shirt, tugged up above your tits, and your underwear, and Harry still had his clothes on, while his shirt was unbuttoned and his pants were down past his bottom. You were both the picture of neediness, not even bothering to take the time to undress fully.

Harry held onto the back of your thighs as he plunged in and pulled back to his tip, before plowing his cock into the hilt again. Every time his hips met the back of your thighs the sticky sound of your arousal on his cock was unmistakable.

He swatted at your thigh when you began to slip from his hold, your leg wobbling free from his shoulder, “Stay put. Keep your legs up,” he grunted.

You gasped and nodded, “Yes, sir…”

Every dip of himself into you felt divine. His cock pushing into your insides and slipping into your guts repeatedly was noisy and delicious.

Harry moaned, unable to hold back how good it felt to be inside of you.

You looked up at him and saw how gone he was. His soft raspberry lips were parted and his eyes were dark as he gasped and panted. His thrusts were becoming harder and sloppier and he was breathing hard. You wanted his come.

“Need it, Harry. Give it to me…” you whispered as you brought a hand up to his jaw and he kept his eyes on you. He was shaking with desire you could feel it.

“Fuck, honey…” he groaned and clenched his jaw. He wanted to make you come first but his own emotions were getting him keyed up and he was already leaking a steady stream of pre-come into your pussy with each stroke.

He stopped his motions and sucked in a sharp breath as he lowered a hand to your clit, “Need you to come first, okay? Then I’m gonna fill your pussy like you need, baby.”

With his thumb on your clit you cooed in ecstasy. You had no idea what you were saying as you felt electricity begin to thrum through your body, winding its way around your ribs and down your spine, and into your tummy where sparks began to turn to fire as he began thrusting into you again.

“Want you to fuck your come deep into my womb. Breed my pussy, sir…” You moaned your words unable to stop it.

Harry grunted and he popped his eyes open to look down at you in shock. He knew you were on birth control and knew it was highly improbable but still, your words had him reeling and feeding his breeding kink, something that had been dormant for many years. You tended to awaken old feelings he once relished in.

And he wasn’t sure if he actually want to get you knocked up but just hearing that fed into something deep and instinctual that had been pushed down. Something primal. You had unleashed a tsunami of emotions and now this?

He began to hammer into you and your legs fell from his shoulders as he fucked himself down into you so hard you saw stars and you gurgled as you came around him, unable to voice your dirty thoughts as your pussy pulsed and squeezed around him.

“Fuck!” Harry barked loudly when he felt you come and he allowed himself to indulge in the fantasy that you’d tapped into, “Gonna knock you up. Fuck you til your all bred and full with my cock and my babies. That what you want? Stuffed full of me in every fucking way?”

Harry throbbed as he finally poured into you, pushing his cock into you as deep as he could manage, balls tucked up against your bum as he whimpered with each tight roll of his hips upward. Imagining his come seeping into you and having it stick. Getting you pregnant. Making you his forever.

He collapsed over you and slid his tongue into your mouth as you brought your arms around his back to keep him close.

Pure hedonistic, rapturous oblivion.

Your heart pounded as he kissed you and you felt him trembling in your arms just as you were in his.

You longed to speak the words you knew you felt but it wasn’t right. You’d want him to say it first. Wanted him to admit it. Wanted him to want you.

But Harry was feeling it all heavy and deeply just the same. His own longing to show you exactly what he felt and that even though he’d play off those words he spoke as he came inside of you, he meant it in a way. He’d love to see you pregnant with his babies. Have you as his own for good. Tell you what he felt deep down.

You smiled into the kiss and Harry pushed himself up to look down at you.

“Just what I needed, Harry. Always know how to make me feel so so good.” You pushed your fingers into his hair and gazed into his pretty eyes and watched as his grin widened.

“Mmm… Ditto. Need you more than just once a week, baby. I did mean that you know.”

You bit your lip and closed your eyes to let that idea sink in a bit. Harry grunted as he moved and you suddenly felt a pinch at the back of your thigh and you laughed, opening your eyes.

“Did you hear me?”

You nodded, “Yes, sir. Three times a week is what you said. That sounds like as close to perfection as I could ask for.”

Harry nudged his nose to yours and let out a soft breath, “Just want more of you, baby.”

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obae-me · 8 months ago

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I have been asked to expand on the MC with trauma scenarios, and you know what, I need the comfort, so let's do it! (No these are not based on myself, I don't know what you're talking about....)

Also I've seen a ton of people's responses to the last one and just know that I am spiritually patting you all on the head and wrapping a soft blanket around your shoulders.

MC with ~Trauma~ PT 2!

Imagine an MC who has been mocked, berated, or criticized for their joys and hobbies. They don't do those things anymore or go to great lengths to hide them.

They never share their writing or their art with anyone. They are surrounded by demons and angels much more talented than them. The thing that they felt they were moderately talented in is below average compared to these beings... Everything they create is hidden in secret digital folders or kept in notebooks under their mattress or tucked in secret spots on their bookshelves.

They never sing or dance or play their instruments. They almost avoid the music room altogether. It's almost too painful for them to think about. If they attend a dance they just stand off to the sides... They don't participate in karaoke. They don't hum to their favorite songs.

They hardly cook, or garden, or read, or edit, or color, or knit, or crochet, or embroider, or anything else that they might enjoy.

Imagine some of the nosier brothers not realizing the pain that hides behind their passions and either playfully spying on them or digging up their secrets. Their hearts are fully destroyed when their human breaks down in tears. Now, every single day, every character encourages them to do what they love and giving them private time and space to do it in a place where they feel safe. They all hope that maybe one day MC will feel comfortable enough to share what they love with them but they will never pry it out of them, and all the while giving them the support they need behind the curtain.

Imagine Satan, Levi, and Mammon grouping together and creating a PowerPoint presentation. With Satan's organizing skills, Levi's technological know-how, and Mammon's morally grey skills of espionage, they gather all the characters together and teach a class on what to do and not to do around MC. Things like having a clear voice in text messages to keep them from having anxiety. Or not slamming doors, not entering their room without knocking, reminding them to drink water, knowing when to give them time to breathe etc. Everyone takes it seriously (some might say too seriously), including Belphie who didn't even sleep for a second during the whole thing.

What about an MC who takes on too much and never says anything about it? At first, Lucifer, Barbatos, and to a lesser degree Diavolo, are pleased that they've found a human with a strong work ethic and a love for responsibility. Little do they know that while part of that might be true, they are doing it because they are non-confrontational, a people pleaser, or try to prove their worth through success (or all of the above). They burn themselves out and forgo their other needs to conserve all their energy for the work that's been given to them, and it's not until it becomes a serious health issue that anyone really notices. They all take a blow when they come to know how much they had been pushing a human beyond their capabilities. So they tell MC to do less, not expecting the human to try and convince them that it wasn't an issue, maybe even apologizing for failing. Now they all have to keep an eye on MC and make sure they don't take things too far, and make sure that MC knows that their worth isn't tied to how much gets done in a day and they don't think of them any less for taking breaks or time for themselves. And maybe they all learn to take care of themselves a little more for it too. Especially one work-a-holic demon known as Pride.

How about an MC that hates the way they look? No matter what that might be. Body size, shape, height, skin-tone, skin-color, scars, blemishes, freckles, etc. What if it was drilled into their head since they were a child that they were not beautiful? What if they can't look into the mirror or take any photos of themselves without feeling sick? How about being around a demon like Asmo? Maybe resenting him, maybe avoiding him, maybe wishing they were like him. It probably would hurt Asmo to see someone hating themselves and their body so intently. Maybe it's because it reminds him of himself. Maybe they both have to sit down and rethink what beauty really means? It's a long process for both of them.

All of them work with the human with their image and not in a shallow way like trying to deny the things they have and who they are. They find ways around pictures, because there are more ways to keep memories rather than selfies and commemorative photos.

Or what if:

Beel: *In MC's room.* Alright, we'll just do some basic stretches.

MC: Okay, just tell me what to do.

Beel: Well, if you want, you can put on some music to make it more relaxing.

MC: Music? *Looks a little nervous.* If you want...

*MC then turns some music on their phone on the lowest setting and sets it on their bed.*

Beel: Um...you can turn it up more than that if you want.

MC: Louder? Really?

Beel: Don't you think it's a little quiet?

MC: Oh...um...okay... *turns it up by one more click.* Is- Is that okay? I can turn it down again.

Beel: *Opens his mouth, confused for a moment before shutting it again. In the quickest second, he's in his demon form.* Who do I need to find?

MC: B-Beel?!

#obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me nightbringer #obey me headcanons #obey me imagines

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estrellami-1 · 8 days ago

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Growing Young

The BIGGEST of happy birthdays to my spouse @gloomysoup !!! You are an absolute DELIGHT to know and I’m so sorry this is late 😭 I’m in love with you and we are going to run away and be very happy together. ❤️

Eddie wants it put on the record that he didn’t run this time. Well, he did, but it was only to lead the bats away from Dustin, and he cycled more than ran, anyways.

Not that the semantics matter when Dustin’s kneeling beside him and sounds are getting echoey.

Dustin yells for Steve, and Eddie wants to tell him it’s no use, Steve can’t hear, he’s too far away, except here he comes like an action hero, sliding in like it’s third fucking base. Damn Wayne and his sports shows, Eddie’s not supposed to know any of that.

“Hey,” Steve says, clear as a bell in Eddie’s addled brain. “Thought I told you not to be a hero.” He looks off, tells someone to get Dustin out, now, before returning his attention back to Eddie. “You’re gonna make it, y’hear me?”

“Dunno,” Eddie says, gasps for breath. Coughs up blood, if the new wet feeling in his mouth is any indication. “‘M not- not cold, anymore, y’know that’s worse, ‘s okay ‘f I don’t-”

“Shut up,” Steve hisses. “Actually, no, keep talking, stay awake. This is gonna hurt like a bitch but I’ve gotta get you outta here. If you’re gonna throw up, please don’t throw up on me.”

Eddie’s brain is lagging full seconds behind, so by the time Steve’s words process, he’s already being lifted.

He doesn’t throw up, but it’s a close thing. “You’re gonna be okay,” Steve tells him again.

He wakes up from the weirdest dream of his fucking life to his alarm and realizes three things in quick succession.

One: that’s not his alarm. It’s a heart monitor.

Two: he’s in a hospital.

Three: it was not, in fact, a dream.

As he finishes categorizing these things, Steve walks in, doing a double-take when he realizes Eddie’s awake. “Oh, holy shit,” he whispers, freezing for a second before darting back out.

He’s back a minute later with Wayne in tow.

Eddie would like it stricken from the record that he cried like a baby upon seeing Wayne. The record can keep the fact that Wayne cried upon seeing him, though.

“Uncle Wayne,” he whispers. He can’t move his arms enough to wipe his face, so he’s just laying there with tears running down his cheeks, undoubtedly making a terrible face. But Wayne’s an ugly crier, too, so they’re just sitting there, crying, making ugly faces at each other.

They eventually calm down and realize at the same time that Steve’s standing awkwardly by the door. “Sorry,” he says, like any of this is somehow his fault. “I didn’t want to interrupt.”

Wayne pulls himself together, gestures at a seat across from him. “You ain’t interruptin’, son. You saved my boy’s life. Far as I’m concerned, you got any right you want t’be here right now.”

Steve ducks his head. “I didn’t really- I mean, he was just… passed out, the doctors did the saving.”

“Sure,” Eddie says quietly, “but you got me outta there.” He glances over at the seat, a smile flickering on his face. “C’mon.”

“If you’re sure.” Steve matches his volume, takes the chair. Moves a book onto his lap.

Eddie notices, glances at it. “What’s that?”

Steve colors. “Oh, uh…” he holds it up for Eddie to see. The Lord of the Rings. “Dustin and I have been taking turns reading, just in case you could hear while you were under.”

Eddie pouts. “No, but I wish I could’ve.”

Wayne bursts out laughing. “Well damn, Ed, he ain’t killed your puppy. Fact, I’d bed he’d read t’you right now iffen y’asked him.” He stands, grabs Eddie’s hand and squeezes. It’s the one part of him that doesn’t hurt, but it still makes tears threaten to fall. “I’ve gotta get to work. Y’gonna be alright, son?”

Eddie smiles, does his best to squeeze Wayne’s fingers back. “I’ll be fine, Pops.”

Wayne leaves, and Steve opens the book, pausing halfway through trying to find his page. “D’you want me to start at the beginning?”

Eddie smiles at him. “‘S alright. I’ve read it so many times, you can start from wherever. I won’t be lost.”

Steve nods, flips through a few more pages. Fingers a corner, works his lip between his teeth. “I, uh… Dustin does voices. I’m… not good at that. And I’m probably gonna say half the names wrong.”

“‘S alright,” Eddie promises him. “‘Sides, it’s a made-up book with a made-up language. Maybe you’re saying it right and everyone else is saying it wrong.”

Steve snorts. “I doubt the author is saying it wrong,” he retorts, but settles back in his chair and begins to read.

A couple pages later, Steve stumbles over a few words in a row and shuts the book, grimacing as he pinches the bridge of his nose. “Sorry, man,” he murmurs. “I’d read more if I could, but I need to be able to drive home.”

Eddie frowns. “Reading’s hard for you?”

Steve rolls his eyes. It’s more of a self-deprecating thing than anything else. “I’ve had… four? Five? Concussions. I wasn’t the best reader before that. It’s definitely gotten worse. Too much and it’ll trigger a migraine.”

Eddie’s frown deepens. “Is there- something you could take? A prescription? Or- or some kind of help?”

Steve colors. “There’s something,” he admits. “I just… don’t like wearing them.”

Eddie’s frown turns curious. “Wearing them?”

Steve nods. Won’t look at Eddie. “Glasses. I just… don’t like the way they look on me.”

“Have you-” he’s interrupted by a cough, and Steve rushes to hand him water. “Thanks,” he rasps out after a couple sips, then clears his throat. “Can you get different frames?”

Steve rolls his eyes. “I did. These are the ones I hated the least.”

“Could I see them?” Eddie requests. “If you- if you’re here tomorrow. Would you bring them?”

Steve looks at him for a long second. “Sure,” he finally says. “I’ll be here tomorrow. And I’ll bring them.”

Eddie smiles at him. Steve smiles back, and leaves.

He arrives the next day while Dustin’s there. He leans in the doorway, crossing his arms and smiling at the scene. “Hey, dipshit,” he calls.

“Hey, Steve,” Dustin says back. “Anyways, so Mike was really stuck, right? So he decided-”

“Hey, dipshit,” Steve says again, jerking his head back. “Your ma’s out front.”

“Oh!” Dustin jumps up, gathering his things. “Okay, Eddie, don’t let me forget!” He calls over his shoulder, pointing at Eddie, almost running into the door before Steve nudges him out of the way.

He’s chuckling when he sinks into the chair Dustin had just vacated. “That kid.”

“He’s pretty good, isn’t he.”

“He really is.” He shifts uncomfortably for a second, pulls the book onto his lap, and sighs. “Just… I know I look stupid, okay? Just please don’t laugh.”

“Never,” Eddie swears immediately.

Steve pulls the glasses out of his pocket and puts them on, blinking at Eddie through the lenses as his eyes adjust. “Well?”

“They look good,” Eddie tells him immediately.

“Don’t-” Steve takes a breath, looks away. “We… we’ve been flirting. Right?”

Eddie’s heart rabbits in his chest. “I can stop.”

Steve shakes his head. “No, just… just tell me the truth.”

“The truth?” Eddie murmurs. “Sweetheart, the truth is if you’d been my teacher, wearing those glasses, I would’ve graduated the first time with fucking honors.”

Steve’s cheeks are pink. “You mean it?”

“Every word,” Eddie swears. “Why don’t you think so? Did someone say something? Was it one of the kids? Because I will kick them out of Hellfire until the end of the campaign-”

“No- Eddie,” Steve laughs. “No, it wasn’t the kids. It wasn’t anyone. I just… don’t think I look good.”

“Well you do,” Eddie returns, mildly affronted. “Don’t look good,” he grumbles, halfway under his breath. “Honestly.” It gets a laugh out of Steve, which is what he was going for. “Can I ask you for something that’s probably way out of line?”

Steve blinks. “You… can ask me, sure. Doesn’t mean I have to listen.”

“Guess so,” Eddie chuckles. It turns into a cough, which makes Steve get up, but Eddie waves him down. “Can I ask you to wear your glasses whenever you need to? And tell me if anyone says something, because again, I will kick the kids out of Hellfire until the end of the campaign. Just say the word, and they’re out.”

“You don’t have to do that for me.”

“I don’t have to do anything. I’m doing it because I want to. Because you’re worth it.”

“Okay,” Steve agrees quietly.

“Good,” Eddie agrees nonsensically.

With that, Steve opens the book and begins to read. He gets through quite a few more pages than the day before, but does eventually stop, rubbing his brows. “Sorry,” he says, “Guess I still can’t read much even with the glasses on.”

“That’s okay,” Eddie murmurs. “Do you like reading? Or are you reading for my sake?”

Steve rubs the back of his neck. “Mostly for your sake,” he admits. “I don’t like reading as much as you do, or as much as Dustin does. But I want to know what you like. I want to understand what you like. And I feel like reading is the best way to do that.”

“Makes sense,” Eddie replies, “but you know you don’t have to, right? I’d like you even if you never picked up another book again.”

Steve grins, a small, shy thing. “You like me?” He teases.

“I do,” Eddie murmurs. “I thought – I thought we-”

“No,” Steve interrupts, “we are. We do. Or I do, I don’t know–”

“I do, too,” Eddie promises. “Just… Maybe when I’m out of the hospital?”

“Yeah,” Steve agrees, “of course. Do you have any news on when you get out?”

“Not yet, but hopefully I’ll know soon. I just don’t know what I’m going to do when I get out… I can’t even lift my arms to feed myself. And if I get out soon, before I’ve healed enough…”

“I get it,” Steve swears. “We’ll figure it out.”

“Okay,” Eddie agrees softly. “Okay.”

“I don’t think I can read anymore today,” Steve says, “but I can stay for a bit if you want company.”

“Please,” Eddie agrees, far too quickly, except it makes Steve blush and smile, and Eddie would make himself the fool a hundred times over to make Steve smile.

They decide to watch TV. At some point their hands end up intertwined, and Eddie wants to stay awake, he really does, but he’s still pretty broken, and he finds himself waking up when Steve pulls away. “Sorry,” Steve whispers, “I didn’t wanna wake you.”

Eddie wakes himself up more, makes some kind of groaning noise that he’s pretty sure he’s heard Wayne make before. “‘S okay,” he mumbles, twitching his fingers to pull Steve closer. “Wan’ed’a be ‘wake.”

“It’s okay,” Steve swears. “You need the rest.”

Eddie hums, lets his eyes slip shut. Lets Steve pull his fingers from Eddie’s limp grasp. “Wan’ you t’wear the glasses,” he murmurs. He hears Steve pause as he gathers his things.

“I will,” Steve whispers. “Promise. I’ve got them on right now.”

“Good,” Eddie mumbles, and falls asleep before Steve’s even out of the room.

The doctor comes in a few days later to talk to Eddie while Steve’s there, once again reading to him. “My apologies,” the doctor says. “I’ve got some information for Mr. Munson, if you wouldn’t mind stepping out for a moment.”

“He can stay,” Eddie says before Steve can move. Steve blinks at him, and Eddie nods, inclining his chin down to the chair Steve’s practically levitating in. Steve shifts his weight, sits back down.

“Very well,” the doctor says. “I’ve got good news for you, Mr. Munson, as long as you’ve got someone to look after you, you’ll be free to go as soon as your guardian arrives.” He shuffles a few papers around. “We’ve got some painkillers for you, as well as a round of antibiotics.” He offers the papers to Eddie. Steve takes them, puts them on the chair beside him. “Your wraps will need to be changed once a day and stay dry for another two weeks, so sponge baths only. After that, your wraps can come off while you shower, then be put back on as soon as your skin is dry. If you have any questions once you’ve been released, there’s a number on the paper you can call at any time. If you pop a stitch, come back in. If you have any adverse reactions to the medication, come back in. If you pass out or throw up repeatedly, come back in. If your wounds look inflamed or infected, come back in. Understand?”

Eddie nods, biting his lip. “My guardian- my uncle. He works. I-”

“He’ll have someone to look after him,” Steve interrupts, looking up at the doctor.

The doctor looks between them, then nods. “Very well then. A nurse will come in and make sure you’re okay to be released. As soon as your uncle is here, you’re free to go.” He smiles. “As much as you’ve been a model patient, I hope to never see you again.”

Eddie snorts. “You too, Doc.” He looks over at Steve as the doctor leaves, raises a brow. “I got someone to look after me?”

Steve colors, looks down. “The, uh. The trailer was…”

Eddie winces. “Yeah.”

“Yeah.” A sigh. “And the government’s dragging their feet about getting you guys another place. I offered up my place to Wayne. He’s been staying there since… well, since we got back topside. There’s more than enough room for the three of us.”

Eddie grins. “And this has nothing to do with you liking me, right?”

“I mean,” Steve shrugs, “I wouldn’t say nothing.”

They spend a long minute looking at each other before Steve looks back down at the open book in his lap.

Wayne arrives not too much later, just after the nurse finishes her duties. He grins at his nephew, finally freed from all the wires and tubes. “Y’ready to go?”

“Please,” Eddie agrees, looking at Steve. “I know my legs are generally fine, but just in case-”

Steve moves around the bed to stand next to him. “I’ve got you,” he murmurs, and Eddie believes him.

They get Eddie out of the hospital, into Wayne’s truck, and back to Steve’s house. “Welcome home,” Wayne deadpans, but Eddie can hear the slightest note of pride in Wayne’s gruff voice. He likes living here.

Eddie thinks he will, too.

“Your bedroom’s upstairs,” Steve murmurs. “The only bedroom down here is my parents’.”

“I’ll take the upstairs bedroom,” Eddie agrees, looking up at the aforementioned stairs. “Might need some help, though.”

“I can help,” Steve agrees. “Let’s see how much you can do by yourself first, though.”

The bannister is just about elbow height, so Eddie’s able to grab it and use it for support. He gets a third of the way up before he’s gritting his teeth, then halfway up before he shakes his head. “I can’t.”

“You did great,” Steve tells him, then picks him up bridal-style.

Eddie squawks, causing Wayne to laugh at him. He raises his hand just enough to flip Wayne off, then focuses on not making a fool of himself while Steve carries him upstairs.

“First room’s mine,” Steve tells him, nodding towards his door as he carefully sets Eddie down. “Wayne’s is two doors down, and yours will be here, between us.” He points towards a room, and Eddie walks towards it.

Walking on flat ground is a lot easier than walking up stairs, but he’s still pretty injured, so he’s glad for the chance to sit down on his bed when he gets into his room.

“Now,” Steve says, “way I see it, you’ve got three options.”

“Oh? And what would those be?”

“Sleep, eat, or bathe.” He gives Eddie a tiny grin. “I know you’ll need help with the last one. If you’d rather your uncle do it, I understand, but I’m willing.”

Eddie glances over at the en-suite, bites his lip, and shakes his head. “I think… if you’re willing. I think I’d prefer you.”

“I wouldn’t offer if I wasn’t completely serious.” He holds his hands out, offering Eddie help getting up. He takes it and leverages himself up, and together they walk into the bathroom.

“Sponge bath,” Steve murmurs, recalling the doctor’s words. “There should be a washcloth in here somewhere.” He gestures for Eddie to sit on the toilet for the time being, rooting around in the cabinets until he comes up with a wash cloth, shouting a triumphant, “Aha!” And waving it around like a flag.

“Man,” Eddie says, “I can’t believe anyone ever thought you were cool.”

“Fuck you, I am cool.”

“You’re a complete nerd, Stevie.”

Steve flips him off, tests the water temperature, nods. “Need help undressing?”

Eddie grimaces. “Probably.”

“That’s alright. Anything you can or want to do yourself?”

Eddie focuses on his jeans first. They unbutton and unzip just fine, and Eddie can get them most of the way over his hips, but he eventually gives up with a sigh. “‘M sorry,” he murmurs.

“I volunteered,” Steve reminds him, helping him out of his pants.

He quickly undresses Eddie the rest of the way and alternates between two cloths, one wet and soapy and one dry, so he doesn’t get the bandages wet. He zones out halfway through, glancing over at the sink multiple times.

The last time he does, Eddie gently taps him on the forehead. “I’d say penny for your thoughts, but I don’t think I have a penny.”

Steve chuckles, grins up at Eddie. “Then it’s a good think I’ll give them to you for free.” His smile turns smaller, more genuine. “I was wondering if there was a way to get a chair in here so we could wash your hair.”

“Oh,” Eddie murmurs, because it had been far too long since he’d last washed his hair. “That would be really nice.”

“Then I’ll find a way to do it,” Steve swears. “But I think the chair will work. Once you’re dressed again, I’ll go get it.”

He finishes bathing Eddie, helps him into clean clothes, and guides him back to the toilet. “Wait here,” he tells him, and runs out of the room in search of a chair.

He finds one that’s roughly the right height and brings it back, draping a towel over the edge of the sink for cushion, gesturing Eddie over and holding his hair up as he gets situated.

He starts washing, and it’s different in the sink, with a faucet that doesn’t move and is so close to the basin, but he makes do; cups warm-almost-hot water in his hands, lets it dribble over Eddie’s scalp.

He massages the shampoo in and Eddie hums. He rakes his fingers through the ends of Eddie’s hair, lathered with conditioner, and Eddie makes a breathless little sound.

Steve’s breath catches in his throat and he stills. “Good or bad sound?”

Another hum. “Good. Sorry. Jus’… relaxed.”

“‘S alright,” Steve murmurs back. “Just making sure.”

“‘S good,” Eddie promises, voice barely a whisper now.

“I’m glad,” Steve whispers back, and finishes washing his hair in silence.

Eddie’s tired after, eyes slipping shut even as he sits up in the chair and Steve dries his hair, so Steve takes mercy on him when his hair is half dry and leads him to bed. “Take a nap,” he whispers. “I’ll clean up and be out of your hair. I’ll be in my room with the door open if you need anything.”

Eddie hums, eyes slipping shut again as he grabs at Steve’s hand. “Stay?”

“Okay,” he agrees. “Just let me throw the towels in the hamper.”

Eddie hums, hand dropping back down to the bed and eyes slitting open as he watches Steve walk to the bathroom.

He’s back less than a minute later, smiling at Eddie as he tries to stay awake. “Go to sleep,” he laughs, sliding in between the sheets next to Eddie. “I’m here. I’m not leaving. Now sleep.”

Eddie lets his eyes close as he moves his hand under the sheets, searching for Steve’s. When he finds it, he grabs and squeezes it, just once, and falls asleep.

Steve doesn’t mean to fall asleep, but there’s not much keeping him awake. He awakens later to Eddie trying to leverage himself out of bed.

He sits up with a snort, blinking at Eddie. “What’re you doing?”

Eddie tosses an apologetic look over his shoulder. “Sorry, I wasn’t trying to wake you. I just needed to use the bathroom.”

Steve hums, stands, walks over to Eddie and helps him up. “I don’t mind you waking me. I’d actually prefer you did, instead of popping your stitches.” He grins, pokes at a bit of Eddie’s side that he knows is unharmed.

Eddie grins back, wide and happy. “I’ve gotta learn. ‘S not like this arrangement is gonna continue. You’ve got your bed and I’ve got mine.”

“It could,” Steve considers. “What if you’re trying to get up in the middle of the night and can’t? What if you have a nightmare and thrash around and pop a stitch?”

“What if you barely sleep because you’re not used to another person in bed with you?”

“What if,” Steve whispers, “that nap was the most restful sleep I’ve gotten in a while?”

“Really?”

Steve looks down, realizes he’s still holding Eddie’s hands. He lets go, takes a step back. Doesn’t look up; he knows his face is burning. “Really.” He flicks his chin over to the bathroom. “Go ahead. I’ll help you downstairs after, it’s almost dinner time.”

Eddie doesn’t move for a minute. Steve chances a glance up at him, and his breath catches at the naked affection staring back at him.

It’s only after Steve looks up at him that Eddie moves, stumbling over to the bathroom and quickly finishing up. Steve stands still, staring at where the sheets are messed up. Two spots. He’s not used to that in his bed. Even when he’d have girls over, none of them wanted to stay the night. Even Nancy left.

But here he is, in a room in his house that isn’t actually his, with a guy, and they’ve been flirting with each other, and-

He thinks he needs to call Robin.

He thinks, as Eddie emerges from the bathroom and smiles at him, he knows exactly what he’s feeling, and doesn’t need to call Robin after all.

They make their way downstairs and Steve settles on a simple pasta dinner. Eddie somehow wiggles his way up onto the counter, and sits beside the stovetop, kicking his leg out and occasionally hitting Steve’s thigh. Steve always glances at him when he does, and it becomes a game, and soon enough they’re both giggling as Steve dumps the pasta into the boiling water.

The water splashes, and Eddie hisses, jerking his arm away and rubbing at it. Steve looks up, worried. “Did it get you?”

Eddie waves him off, nudging his thigh with his foot again. “‘M alright. Not even a mark, ‘s just hot.”

“Still,” Steve says, and steps closer. “Can I see?”

Eddie stares at him for a minute. Offers him his arm.

He’s right. There’s no mark apart from an old scar, years old and years healed. Steve’s hand comes up, and his thumb strokes the scar, then down a little, towards his elbow. “Well?” Eddie asks teasingly. “What’s the prognosis, doc?”

Steve stares at him flatly, playing into it. “You’ll live,” he says, completely deadpan, grinning when Eddie giggles. He bumps Eddie’s knee with his hip, moves away to collect plates and silverware. “Make yourself useful and stir the pasta, would you?”

Eddie sticks his tongue out but picks up the spoon and does as he’s asked.

And so it goes. They’re mostly left unattended, as Wayne is usually at work, but sometimes he’ll sit on the couch with Steve and they’ll watch football or baseball, much to the chagrin of Eddie, who takes every opportunity possible to bemoan the existence of sports for stealing Steve’s attention away from him.

Steve doesn’t tell him that even when his eyes are on the TV, his mind is on Eddie. He’s well aware he falls too fast, too hard.

He helps Eddie up and down the stairs. He gives him sponge baths and washes his hair. Eventually his wounds begin to heal, and he’s able to get up and down the stairs on his own, if not a lot slower than usual.

He starts taking quick showers on his own. Steve still washes his hair in the sink, and now he helps Eddie change his bandages after he showers.

One day, Eddie hesitates on the edge of the bathroom threshold. “I don’t…” he looks away, bites his lip. Puts his arms up, tousles the top of his hair to prove his point. “I can do it on my own now.”

“Oh,” Steve says, feeling strangely heartbroken. “Right, yeah, that’s great. I’ll just, uh-” he takes a step back, angles his thumb behind him.

Eddie jerks forward, wraps his fingers around Steve’s wrist. “But you could help? If you wanted?”

Steve tugs Eddie over to the bed, sits on the edge. Doesn’t say anything until Eddie sits, too. He plays with the frame of his glasses as he says, “You’ve been flirting with me.” Eddie lets go of his wrist. Steve tries not to miss it. “It’s… it’s okay. You don’t have to stop. I just need you to be honest with me.”

“Anything,” Eddie whispers, and Steve drops his voice to match.

“Do you mean it? Or are you just flirting because you can?”

“Baby,” Eddie murmurs, bringing a hand up to cup Steve’s jaw, and oh, Steve thinks.

Oh.

“Really?” He whispers, and Eddie nods.

“Really.”

“I can’t,” Steve murmurs. “I can’t do this if you just like me. If this is… is gonna be a fling, or whatever.”

“Baby,” Eddie murmurs again. “I’ve long since healed enough to sleep alone. I don’t want to. I want to wake up to your face every day. I want to bring you your glasses when you forget them, I want to stir your pasta sauces and annoy you in the kitchen until you threaten to throw me out, even if we both know you never will. I want to be the one you come home to every day, the one you turn to when you need support. I want you to feel safe with me the way I do with you.” His thumb strokes Steve’s cheek, wiping away a tear. “Because I do. I feel safe with you. You make me feel safe. You- baby.” He strokes Steve’s cheek again, studies his eyes. “Baby. Can I kiss you?”

“Please,” Steve gasps, and Eddie does.

He leans in slowly, enough time for Steve to close his eyes and part his lips the barest amount, not out of any desire to tease, but just because he’s feeling so much he can’t contain it all, and it has to come out in gasps and breaths and small, shaky moans, when Eddie licks into his mouth, pulls his tongue into a tango, back and forth and in and out until Steve’s positively dizzy with it.

He pulls back just to tilt his head the other way and dive in with just as much fervor, sucking Steve’s bottom lip into his mouth, nipping at it until it’s swollen and tender and Steve feels like he could float away.

Steve breaks the kiss first, dizzy and panting and overwhelmed, leaning forward and pulling Eddie into a hug. “I’m so glad,” he murmurs. “I didn’t think…”

“Of course I would,” Eddie mutters back, holding Steve tight. “Of course I would, baby. Didn’t have a chance, really, was just gone on you from the moment I saw you.”

Steve pulls back, tugs Eddie down until they’re both laying down, halfway on the bed, noses nearly brushing. “And you want me to… to help?”

Eddie grins big enough his eyes are slits. “I’m gonna be honest here, sweetheart, I definitely imagined help would come after.”

Steve giggles back, leans in to steal a peck of a kiss. “I can do that,” he agrees, standing up and pulling Eddie to the bathroom.

They’re both laughing like little kids as they go, and a part of Steve wonders if that’s what falling in love is: growing young again.

#stranger things #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie #slow burn #kinda?#friends to lovers #fluff #the fluffiest fluff #I hope you like I baby ❤️#starambles

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marzipanandminutiae · 25 days ago

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would you have any reading suggestions to learn more about the earrings are evil era??? I've never heard of that aspect of fashion history and I am curious

Oh man, it was wild

you saw the first stirrings of it in the 1890s, when you started to get (mostly white and middle-to-upper-class) proto-feminists arguing that ear piercing was barbaric- keep an eye on the racist undertones there; they will come up again-and forcing women to suffer for fashion. I cannot emphasize enough that, until that point, ear piercing had been pretty much normal for this race/class/gender group. For centuries. You see criticism of the practice here and there, but nothing that really stuck.

The objections slowly increased until roughly the mid-1920s, when everything reached a tipping point and pierced ears became largely taboo for most white Americans and Brits of northern/western European descent. If that sounds HIGHLY specific, it is- communities from southern and sometimes eastern Europe retained cultural practices of ear piercing, to the point where it was often used as a point against them by mainstream society. It was also associated with Latino people, Black people, and the Romani, which. Yeah. I don't need to tell you how that went down.

It also developed associations with sexual immorality and/or backwards thinking. One newspaper letter I read came from a teen girl in the 1940s, wondering why she shouldn't pierce her ears if her very respectable grandmother had piercings. The response was something like "well, they did all sorts of things in the Bad Old Days that we shouldn't do now." True in many ways, or course, but...piercing your ears? That's the hill culture decided to die on as far as antiquated behavior that we should leave behind? Apparently yes.

Earrings themselves never went out of style, which led to the birth of clip-ons and screwbacks. Ironic that the "don't surfer for fashion" crowd was so eager to embrace screwing tiny vices onto your ears, but there we are. My own mother (born 1953) remembers her mother (born 1926) always taking off her screwback earrings immediately after getting home from a party, literally in the foyer of their house the second the door shut. There had been adaptations for unpierced ears before- Little Women, published in 1868, describes Meg March hanging earrings from a flesh-colored silk ribbon tied around the base of her ear -but they'd never caught on like this before.

However, the pendulum was soon to swing back. After just 40 years of Piercing Panic, in the 1960s, girls began piercing their ears again in droves. As piercing moved from the slumber party or summer camp back to the professional jewelers whose families had been early professional piercers in the 19th century- and to befuddled doctors who had no idea what they were doing yet still received piercing requests -cultural commentators had no idea what to make of it. Some decried the new trend while most took an air of bemused neutrality. My personal favorite article expressed surprise that "Space Age misses" were adopting these "Victorian traditions."

(In 1965, my grandmother took Mom to the anesthesiologist down the street who was offering to pierce his young daughter's friends gratis, and got it done. My grandfather had strongly disapproved of the idea, but in the end it took him a week to notice the new earrings.)

As to sources...honestly, I've just gone to Google Books, specified a time frame, and typed in "ear piercing," "pierced ears," "pierce ears," etc. Tons of primary sources at your fingertips, though I'm not always great about documenting or saving what I find. There's not much written about it formally, I've found- no books or scholarly studies. It may just be too close in history to attract much academic attention, though I find it fascinating.

This little blip where something that's been normal for most of western history suddenly became taboo for a hot second.

Also my ear piercings just turned 20 five days ago, commemorating the date that I was taken with much ceremony to Piercing Pagoda (and that horrible gun; it's a wonder I didn't get keloids) to get me out from underfoot while the Thanksgiving feast was being made. Grandma got hers pierced on the same day, at age 78. Happy Birthday, Marzi's ear piercings!

#ask #anon #fashion history #history #piercing #ear piercings #long post

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crownofgildedlilies · 21 days ago

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christmas ornament

pairing: midoriya x reader summary: Izuku really is a perfectionist, even when it comes to decorating for the holidays. wc: 1.6k event masterlist

He had made you a To Do list.

You had invited Izuku Midoriya into your own home, and he had the audacity to bring a To Do list. A ten item, organized alphabetically, To Do list.

“What do I do if I don’t have a six foot extension cord?”

The question fell past your lips on a grin, glimpsing at the overly prepared boy standing in your living room. It was amusing—endearing, even—that he had put in so much effort to help you after you asked him only once, but you were worried that he had gone a little overboard.

“Don’t worry!” Izuku smiled brightly, holding up the bag he had brought with him. Shaking it for emphasis, you heard the rattle of various items clanging together, and—was that bells? “I brought everything that you might need!”

“You didn’t have to do that, Izuku, really.” You skimmed back over the list, then glanced at the piles of boxes scattered through the small room you were in. “You’re already doing enough just by being here.”

At your genuine words, you watched a flush bloom across his cheeks. The sight made you grin wider; Izuku Midoriya, ever obvious in his emotions. You had known for a while that he had feelings for you, and though they were very much reciprocated, you were waiting for him to make the first move. Except, he seemed too nervous to do so.

And maybe you were a little nervous, too.

“But I wanted to! The holidays are important, you know! And you asked me to help you decorate, so how could I not?” He busied himself by setting his bag on the end of the couch, pulling out various cords and tinsel and spare strings of lights and darting glances at you from the corner of his eyes.

“You’re doing a little more than helping me decorate,” You laughed, neatly folding the list and setting it on the coffee table. “You went with me to get a real tree, carried it all the way up here by yourself, set it up, and made these lists. You’re so sweet, Zuku.”

“It wasn’t anything I didn’t want to do,” His voice was wavering, flustered, and you couldn’t help but feel a little guilty at purposefully riling him up with the nickname. “So, where do you want to start?”

“I want to do the tree last,” You crossed the room to stand beside Izuku’s side next to the couch, and you couldn’t help yourself as you set one hand on his arm to pretend to balance yourself while you leaned forward to peek into the bag he had brought with him. “Maybe the wreath and shelf decorations?”

“Whatever you want,” He assured you, and it was so hard to act like you didn’t notice how tense he felt under your touch, or how his attention darted from the bag to your hand on his arm repeatedly. “I’ll, uh, I’ll go get the wreath!”

Energetic as ever, Izuku raced from the room to collect the wreath for your front door. Grinning, you trailed after him at a slower pace.

You were going to make him yours, and soon.

It was hard to flirt with Izuku when he kept himself busy racing around your apartment to decorate.

“Zuku, does this look alright?” You hummed, stepping back from the tree a few paces to look over your progress. Golden tinsel adorned the branches, colorful lights were wrapped neatly in what Izuku had declared the perfect spiral from the base of the tree to the very top.

“It looks great, don’t you think? If you don’t like it, I can take it all down and we can restart—” He started rambling, and you pressed your palm over his mouth with a giggle. Predictably—adorably—he blushed bright red, and you felt the warmth of his skin under your hand.

You smiled up at him, and could have sworn that you felt him press tighter against your palm.

“I really like how it looks,” You assured him, not yet removing his hand. He simply looked far too adorable all flustered and you couldn’t help but tease him. “But I wanted your opinion. You don’t need to take it all down for me.”

After sending him a final playfully teasing look, you dropped your hand back to your side.

“You wanted my opinion?” He asked, sounding shocked. Rolling your eyes, you turned around to dig through the box with the last of the decorations he had helped drag out of your storage unit. It was hard to maintain your unaffected facade when he went around looking so pathetically hopeful about you caring about what he thought.

“Of course I do,” You murmured softly. Still with your back turned to him, you spotted something unfamiliar at the bottom of the box before you. It wasn’t something you remembered packing away with the rest of the ornaments the previous year, but you had a suspicion you knew who had placed it there. “Hey, did you bring this?”

You twisted around to face him, dangling a shiny All Might ornament on your finger for him to inspect.

He turned red again, and it was becoming increasingly harder to not kiss him so hard he never got rid of his flush.

“Yeah, but you don’t have to use it! I just thought it looked really cool at the store, and you had already asked me to help you decorate, so I wondered if you would like it.” He rambled, again, scratching at the back of his neck and darting his attention throughout the room while he spoke. “I can take it back if you don’t!”

“Izuku,” You smiled, stepping closer to him. With a surge of bravery, you reached out to grab his hands between your own, the ornament pressed between both his and your own palms. “You’re cute when you ramble.”

“R-really?” He stammered, wide eyed and mouth ajar.

“And I think it’s cute that you brought the ornament.” Continuing, you closed the already short distance between the two of you, until your knee knocked against his leg and you could almost taste him. “I think it’s cute that you agreed to help me decorate, and that you brought a To Do list.”

You had planned on waiting for Izuku to make the first move, to finally force you to end the teasing flirting you had spent months flustering him with. But it was starting to seem like you had underestimated just how oblivious to your affection he truly was.

Maybe you should take pity on him.

“Zuku,” You grinned up at him, head tilting closer to him and slightly to the side. “This is the part where you tell me you want to kiss me.”

But you couldn’t help but tease him a moment longer.

“Can I?” The word left him in an exhale, and you slowly disentangled his hands from your own. Still holding the gifted ornament on a single finger, you drape your arms around his shoulders to somehow bring him even closer. Hesitantly, his hands fall stiffly to your waist. Over time, you knew he’d warm up to touching you.

Right now? You’re enjoying how everything is so new to him.

“I might die if you don’t,” You tease, and you want to pretend to pout, but you can’t force anything to overtake your smile as Izuku flushes a deep scarlet.

But then a look of absolute resolution overtakes him, like he got when he trained his quirk. Like he had his mind set to something, and nothing was going to stand in his way. It was exhilarating to have him look at you that way. And a little daunting, too.

Between one breath and the next, he was kissing you. A soft, gentle, tentative press of his lips against yours. A first kiss you’d remember for the rest of your life, with all your attention fixated on the points of your body that touched him.

Izuku pulled away first, with wide eyes staring so affectionately at you and a freckled smile you’d be dreaming about for weeks.

You feel your own face flush bright. Karma for all your previous teasing.

“Can I take you on a date?” He asked, like he hadn’t just knocked the wind out of you with his kiss. Smiling, you nodded, and darted forward to catch his mouth with a second kiss that burned just as intensely as the first. He’d be the death of you if he kept it up.

“I’d very much like that,” You answered in words, as if you hadn’t shown him just how interested in him you were. Adjusting your hands on the back of his neck, you suddenly remembered the tiny plastic version of Izuku’s mentor you held in your hands. Laughing quietly, you pulled the tree decoration from behind his head so that it dangled between the two of you. “All Might is such a romantic ornament.”

“I really like it!” He defended, swiping the ornament from your teasing fingers. He kept one hand on your waist as he guided you closer towards the tree, nearly completed with tinsel and lights and ornaments you had collected over the years. Leaning your cheek against his shoulder, you watched as he found a spot on your tree for his All Might ornament.

You couldn’t help but think that it was perfect. A shred of Izuku always wormed its way into your life, and your Christmas tree was no exception.

“Help me with the star?” You asked, still curled into his side. He tilted his smile down to face you, and you noticed that some of his blush had started to fade. You’d have to kiss him again to get it to come back.

“Of course. Then the list is complete!”

You snorted, admiring him with nothing short of utter admiration.

“Dork.”

#izuku midoriya #midoriya izuku #izuku midoryia x you #izuku midoriya x reader #mha #mha x reader #mha izuku #mha midoriya

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a-romantics-guide-to-life · 2 months ago

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⋆⟡˚ ཐི⋆♱ 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐢𝐬 𝐡𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐧, 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲𝐛𝐨𝐝𝐲 𝐦𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐚 𝐬𝐜𝐞𝐧𝐞 ♱⋆ཋྀ ˚⟡⋆

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: dad coriolanus snow x fem reader

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: parent life with coryo has been a blessing and a curse due to his political status and long work days so imagine your surprise when he finds time to take your kids trick or treating

𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬: tooth rotting fluff, softie dad coryo, trick or treating, "family costume" based on the addams family (didn't really mention it though), bullying, coryo being a very protective dad

𝐚/𝐧: HAPPY HALLOWEEN!!!! hope everyone has an amazing day and here is my final treat for all of you! i am honestly so surpirsed i actually finished all of this and i hope you enjoy the grand finale of this years flufftober!!

𝐟𝐥𝐮𝐟𝐟-𝐭𝐨𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

“Come on Melody darling, we gotta go if you wanna go out!” You yell from the family room of your house.

“OKAY MAMA, ONE SEC!!!” Your daughter yells from her room. You shake your head, turning to the clock that pointed to the time of nearly nine PM. You shook your head, your darling two year old son, Jasper, raising his arms to you from your feet where he stands. You smile at him, picking him up, his arms coming to play with your silky hair that lay softly on your collar. He babbles “pwetty ‘air” as his small hands run through the perfect waves.

If only Melody would hurry up.

If only Coriolanus would hurry.

It was nothing new for your President of a husband to be staying overtime with the senators and other politicians on Halloween of all days. You knew exactly what you were signing up for when you signed that marriage contract. In fact, you knew much much earlier when you and Coryo had started dating during your time at the Academy. You knew that no matter how much he loved and valued you and his family, he’d always work so hard, too hard, just to make all of you proud. You knew that he loved you so much that he dedicated the quiet dark of his nights just to be with you while slaving away his days to achieve that dream that, not too long ago, felt so far away.

You made sure your children knew that as well.

“Dada,” Jasper smiled, turning his brilliant blue eyes towards you. He had inherited all your looks, from your hair all the way down to the curve of your nose but his eyes were all his fathers.

You smile, pressing a warm kiss to your son’s cheek. “Yes, don’t worry darling, your papa is on his way here right now.”

“Is he really Mama?” Your daughter asked, you smiled at the girl who was now standing on the couch, not too far away from where you stood. You smile, carrying her with your other arm, noticing how she runs her fingers through her blonde curls much like her father. Her hair, a little messy from running around her room and downstairs.

“Why, of course he is baby. You know how bad traffic can get. I’m sure he’s running home right now on his own two legs.”

Jasper and Melody laugh, hugging you. You smile, setting them down and bringing Melody to sit on your lap so you can fix her twin braids.

You knew Coriolanus wouldn’t be able to make it tonight, he had one of the most important meetings of his presidency tonight. Yet, it didn’t hurt to wait and you still had to fix Melody’s attempt at braids.

Jasper wobbles on his feet, walking to the coffee table in front of the TV to grab his bag.

Melody hums as you braid her auburn hair, the color similar to Coriolanus’ mothers apparently.

When you were pregnant with Melody during the beginning of Coriolanus’ campaign for President, you were so worried. The actual pregnancy was so so so painful, for you and Coriolanus. Many times he had urged you to terminate, making sure all Panem's best doctors were five minutes away in case anything went awry. Coriolanus barely slept at night, watching your form sleep curled up to his side. He watched in trepidation for even the slightest tell of pain. But it never came, not that that would stop Coriolanus from watching his beautiful wife sleep. that stopped him from watching his beautiful wife rest peacefully.

The actual birth of your darling was terrifying for Coriolanus. You had been in so much pain during your third trimester and hearing your cries and wails as you pushed Melody out scarred Coriolanus forever.

He especially felt fear when you had gotten pregnant with Jasper. Coryo’s own mother didn’t make it out of the second birth, so imagine his fear after you smiled at him announcing your second child.

You two had an enormous fight about it which ended with Coriolanus sleeping in his office for nearly a week while you could barely care for five year old Melody who always asked for her papa and why “mama and papa not talking to each other? You sad, mama?”

You nearly broke under the pressure, especially when you two had to attend the last minute dinner party of one of the senators with Melody in tow. You had forced laughs and smiled so artificially in your elegantly dark gown, the color a silent nudge at the growing rift between you and Coriolanus.

But by the end of that night, you were so exhausted from walking around on shards of glass, you carried Melody to the car, setting her down to lay in your lap before letting the dam overflow. Coriolanus had never seen you so low, he knelt in front of you after you brang Melody to your bed, hugging your tummy and nuzzling his face into your belly. He apologized so profusely, you wondered if that was all he could say.

Suffice to say that after that night, Coriolanus vowed to never again make you cry as you did on that tortuous ride home where you dug your palms flat against your eyes, sobbing softly while sniffling quietly.

“There you go Melody. Do you like them?” You asked having finished the second braid.

You reach for the mirror on the coffee table, holding it up to show your daughter her hair. She squealed, taking the mirror before bolting to where her brother stood. She held the mirror in front of her brother, Jasper turning his head slightly in the mirror watching his reflection.

“Lookie, Jas! You as handsome as Papa and I’m pretty as Mama.” She giggles, setting the mirror down before dancing with her younger brother, squeals of joy filling the air.

“That you are my little snowflakes.” A deep voice rumbled from the doorway.

Jasper and Melody squeal even louder, if that possible, and run to their father who stands in the doorway. He smiles, bedding down in his pressed black and gray pinstriped suit, wrapping his strong arms around your two children, hoisting them up. Jasper hugs his fathers neck, nuzzling his face into the crook of Coryo’s neck while Melody smacks a kiss to his cheek before wrapping her arms around her brother and her father.

You smile at the scene, Coriolanus’ deep blue eyes meeting your own as he walks over to you. He plops the kids onto the couch before stepping right in front of you. His hands fall to your hips where the delicately black fabric wrinkles, accentuating your figure.

“Hello darling.”

“Why hello mister President.”

He barks a laugh, smiling down at you. He leans in, kissing you softly on your forehead, making his way to each cheek before finally kissing your nose.

You pout, “no kiss on the lips Coryo?”

He smiles, his hand coming to hold your cheek. “Wouldn’t want to mess up your perfectly vicious red lip now would I?”

“Good thing it’s kiss proof then, isn’t it?”

He growls before, bringing his hand to your nape, tugging you forward to meet his lips in a savage kiss. You hear Melody gasp before slapping her hands over what is probably her little brother's eyes.

His lips ravage yours, your hands flying to his chest, roaming the expanse. ALl that could go through either of your heads was mine. His hand comes up to your lower back, rubbing soothingly up and down knowing that ever since the birth of his two gems, your back hasn’t quite been the same.

“MAMA PAPA, CAN YOU PLEASE HAVE THIS MOMENT LATER?! WE NEED TO GOOOO!” Melody yells, wedging herself between yours and Coriolanus’ legs.

Coriolanus finally lets up, heavy breathing and near panting filling the small space between yours and Coriolanus’ faces.

“Ma, Pa, kiss kiss.” Jasper says as he stalks over to your legs, grabbing the black fabric of your dress, arms stretched up to you. You chuckle, picking your baby up.

“Yes, Ma and your Pa were kissing.” You nuzzle his cheek, pressing a kiss to his cheek.

“Come on Mama, Papa, can we please go? They gonna run out of candy before we get there.” Your daughter runs to the door, slipping on her boots, candy bag in hand.

“Slow down there snowflake, don’t want you to melt before you get out there, do we?” Coriolanus pats her head as she turns her face to look up to her fathers, her eyes mirroring into her own.

“Okay Papa, I’ll slow down.”

“That’s my girl.”

“Trick or treat!” Melody and Jasper yelled, along with the other kids that had reached that particular door.

“Oh my, what a wonderful group of children I see.” The woman who opened the door exclaimed, handing each and every child at her door at least five candies each. Melody shouted thanks before walking over back to where you and Coryo stood waiting for them by the sidewalk.

“Oooo Papa, can we go to that house over there? And the other one? And the other one?”

“Of course we can have my little gem, but are you sure your bag will be able to hold all that candy?” Coryo raised his eyebrows even though you and Coryo both knew that you had each brought an extra bag for the kids knowing just how long they’d want to stay out walking door to door to get some free candy.

“Of course it can Papa!”

“Okay then Melody, we can go to every single house in the Capitol then. If that is what you want of course.”

“Mama said we should definitely stop by Mrs.Plinth house so can we go there after this street?”

Coryo raises his eyes to meet yours, a sheen of unshed tears brimming his eyes.

“Okay darling, we can go visit Ma Plinth’s if you’d like.”

Melody smiles, a brilliant smile, at her father. She runs off to the next house, her brother in tow. The subtle (although not really invisible, just in disguise) bodyguards follow the young kids, you and Coyo not trailing too far behind.

“So, Ma Plinth’s, huh?” He asks, his eyes watching his darling kids ahead. He takes your arm in his, his hands slightly trembling.

“Yeah, I just thought it’d, you know,” you pause. Your hands rubbing circles on Coryo’s, knowing everything that he did, all the sacrifices he made to survive. You sigh, turning to the man next to you, his gaze hardening ahead of him. “I just thought it’d be nice to pay her a visit with the kids.”

Coryo let out a shaky sigh, shaking his head while his jaw was clenched so hard, his jaw could seemingly kill a man. You leaned to him, kissing his jaw.

He closed his eyes, taking a deep breath in, holding it for a second, and then releasing it. He takes your hand, kissing the blood red diamond sitting on the delicate band of your fingers before smiling at you, his deep blue eyes meeting yours.

You two continue to stroll along, watching Melody and Jasper walk from door to door, yelling “Trick or treat!” You and Coryo laugh, taking in all the sights and sounds that neither of you got to experience all thanks to the war.

You and Coryo laughed, feeling fully at ease with each other on the night where you can be anything and anyone, anywhere.

Until your head cries that is.

You and Coryo both stiffen at the sound of your children crying. Both of them run back towards you, tears falling down their rosy pink cheeks. You crouch down, picking up Jasper whose sobs and cries could be heard all throughout the Capitol. You soothe him, asking him what’s wrong. He just nuzzles himself further into your neck, more and more tears falling from his eyes.

Coryo’s eyes had hardened, his long legs carrying him to where his precious First Daughter stood, the back of her hands rubbing profusely at her eyes. In that instance, she resembled him, Coryo thought. Her same marine eyes, tears rolling down them as he just found out that his mother died, his father died, that they had lost everything.

He kneels down in front of Melody, taking his hands to cup her cheeks, nudging her own hands out of the way.

“What’s wrong my darling snowflake?”

She hiccups, kids around them stopping and staring at the strangely fancily dressed man and the small girl wearing twin braids in a gothic black dress.

“O-oh Pa-paa, w-” she stumbles over her words, making Coriolanus’ heart grow weaker at the sight of his daughter crying, “why are k-kids so m-mean?”

“Darling, you’re not a mean kid. What happened?”

“Th-They took our c-candy, me and J-Jasper’s. They took i-it saying i-it was taxes so I told them that y-you were my Pa and that y-you make the taxes.”

Coryo’s hands balled, fists ready to hunt down whichever lowlife had dared tax his daughter, stolen her candy, and ridiculed the Snow name.

He lifted Melody up, rubbing her back up and down slowly as her tears slowed and her hiccups became few and far inbetween. He walked back over to you where Jasper had nearly cried himself to sleep, the previously full candy bag slung over your shoulder.

You met Coriolanus’ eyes, a quiet yet roaring fire brewing in his iris’. He sends the guards off to find the little shits who had harassed his daughter. He led you to the car you had driven there, setting a sleepy Melody down in the seat next to yours before shutting the door.

You rolled down your window, asking Coryo “where are you going?”

He simply replied, his eyes darkening.

“Taking care of business.”

Needless to say, the next day Melody’s squeals of excitement and subsequent footsteps up the stairs and into your room were explanation enough for the truckload of candy awaiting you in the family room downstairs.

Bonus:

“Coriolanus Snow, what are we going to do with all this candy?”

“Eat it?”

“Don’t you think you went even a little overboard? Whatever did you do to those poor boys?”

“First off, they were not poor. And secondly, I didn’t do anything out of my reins as President of Panem and father of two gems.”

and that concludes this years flufftober!!! i hope you have enjoyed each of these as much as i have whilst writing them!!

#fin #the end #emi's flufftober 2024 #emi’s halloween special #flufftober #halloween #spooky season #coriolanus snow #coriolanus snow x reader #tbosas #tom blyth #tom blyth x reader #emi sanity #all hallows eve

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mehiwilldoitlater · 3 months ago

Note

Previously... "How you wished your phone hadn't died few days ago"

Me: Gentlemen,Ladies and Enby's. I have an solution >:)

OKAY OKAY SO,The party fights Yellow Loong and after defeat,they get their thunder staff,yeah? Reader thinks it's so cool and then it clicks to them to CHARGE their phone by the use of the staff!!! Which does work HAHA instantly goes %100 in span of 5 seconds lmao

And reader shows the destined one some photos (like their family,friends of school/college,time they went to zoo and hold finger monkey,yes. It's a thing,look at it up hehe)

At last,reader takes selfie with The destined one and Zhu Baige cuz they don't want to forget them c:

Also drink water,gotta stay hydrated! 💜🫵🏻

"This will never work."

"And if it works, you'll be so sorry you had doubted me, old man!"

Bajie, sighing, Just pointed out the destined one, who was holding that small black tablet in his right hand with the nail of his pinky in the small hole at the base of the same object.

"Kid, stop indulge her! Be the rational one here!"

"What can I say?" He said, shrugging his shoulders, "I'm quite curious too about this phone thing."

"Oooh, yes, of course! Cuuurious, he said. Well, if it's turned out to burn at a crisp, do not come cry to me, young lady!"

You just laugh it out; even if it were true, you knew that the old pig was a soft heart for you and would surely comfort you.

"Ok so," you started to explain for the last time, "go really low on the voltage, enough to the cilinder with the green liquid to appear. Once Is full and made a sound, stop!"

"It seems simple; sure, is it going to work?"

"Well, maybe? ... Anyway, it doesn't matter! Just go!"

So, what were you up to this time?

A few days after your arrival, your phone, as you suspected would have happened, had died since the lack of electricity.

Between a deadly danger and another being eaten attempt, your mind completely forgotten about the device's lost usage until, after the fight against Yellowbrow, the idea of using that newfound power struck you.

You weren't sure that it could work; you were prepared to lose forever your phone, to be fair, but a small try never hurt anyone, right?

And fortune favorite, the bold!

After the small sound front the phone, you started to jump in happiness, finally with the last connection of your original world in your hands.

"AH! YES! IT WORK IT WORK! AHAH!"

The other two laughed a little, noticing how your fingers were able to move in the device with knowledge and security.

"All right, all right," said Bajie, sitting next to you when you decided to calm down. "Now, what does this little thing do?"

"Okay! Basically, we use It tò call people, message them...communication in general!"

"Oh so..." Yuán Fèn seemed startled when, after touching one of the apps on the screen, the color changed "is like... a bird or... and Messanger?"

"Well yes? Everything happens in seconds instead of hours or days! Unfortunately, without connection, it's useless for that part."

"Ah! So I was right! "

"Buuuut It can do something more intriguing for you!"

Once you shot the camera, your two friends, after a brief moment of surprise from their own faces showing up inside that small box, seemed more interested than before.

"Is that a mirror?"

"Nope! It's a camera! We use it to make photos!"

"What's a pho-u-toh?"

"Photo! Or photograph!" You laugh after Bajie misspells "it's like a panting, but far more precise. Using light, you can press the image on paper. Now, a phone camera doesn't exactly work like that, but you get the idea."

You stod up and put the device in front of the pigface.

"Now smile! I'll show you!"

After you took the picture, with the image of a still confused Bajie on it, you showed it to him. After a moment of silence, he started to laugh about it.

"You are surely full of surprises!"

///

"HEY! Is that a baby?!"

"Baby, aren't you that small, you dork!"

"Yes, they are! They smal like your brain!"

Once again, you have to save yourself and your phone from another monkey's fist fight between the children. Now that you had shown them your small magic box, like they like to call it, they were always eager to make one with you or ask you to make one for them, only to laugh about their own faces or what was happening. You even make a few videos of them, which just make them go more crazy than before.

But then they discovered your other photos.

They seemed to enjoy, especially the ones that you had taken the day you had decided to help your auntie in her school trip at the Zoo. They loved the ones that you had taken at the monkey enclosure; they loved to see that you were familiar with their kind even before the change of world!

Well, they weren't the only ones that enjoyed the device. Once, you decided to show it to the youngest of the spider sisters, showing her the video that you took of her while dancing, and she laughed all the time, enjoying it to see her own performance.

You even took the chance to use it to make ohotos of every place that you and the Destined one were able to visit. Yellow ridge, the snowy fields, the mountains...every place was a new set for one of your photos, and every time he was inside too.

He had never shown quite the interest like everyone, but he seemed still happy to know that you wanted to cherish the memories that you had there with him. But what he really loved were your own memories, the photos of your past, and your family. He loved sharing them with you, knowing you deeper.

"This is your..."

"Cousin. My cousin."

"Oh yes, yes...and this is your cat, right?"

"Sorta, it shows up now and then. I like to leave it some food for it, so it doesn't starve."

"Ah, got it..." then another photo, that you tried to pass fastly, had passed under his eyes of you near someone.

"And that one? The one with the guy?"

"Ah, it was nothing." Your tone seemed almost off, like to avoid the discussion.

"Nothing?" He raised his eyebrows. "I saw you smiling! How was it nothing?"

And soon, you get back on the photo and delete it.

"As I said, nothing."

It seemed that he still needed to know you better.

@sun-jglim @crimsonflameproxy @everlastingmoonlightsworld @biankanoir

@miraclecherryblossomsblog @certifiedsimpinggalore @sleepingdramaqueen @cromboloni @masksandfeathers

@cinnamonroll-anon @justrandomlypassing @cute-angi @luckyangelballoon @dressycobra7

@naarra @virtualexpertanchor @phoenixeclipse-lmkau @szynkaaa @kirax-the-lazy-girl

@sleepydang @weaverworks @kishimiest @marcu-bug @thepoweroffiction

@riolu4 @angryvampire @s0rr3l @rootin-tootin-morgan @lightlumi

@cleverfeststarlight

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astraystayyh · 1 year ago

Text

Orange

hyunjin x reader. childhood friends to lovers. implied soulmates. hyune's pov.

this is the prequel & sequel to you're in the wind, i'm in the water. you need to read the prev fic first to understand how hyunjin and mc confessed to one another!!

this is very self indulgent but it's also my bd gift so i get a pass hehe also a tribute to one of my fav love languages which is peeling an orange for someone :')

based on Chemtrails Over the Country Club by Lana Del Rey,, so highly recommend listening to it while reading :)) feedback is appreciated as always <333

i'm on the run with you my sweet love

The beige sand warms the soles of your feet as you and Hyunjin run along the shore. His parents sit by a towel, watching you with idle curiosity as you’re propelled forth by the brisk winds; and a sense of feedom only found in the tender hearts of children.

Hyunjin doesn’t know where you’re taking him. He didn’t question you when you entwined your fingers with his before running away, your footprints etched upon the sandy canvas. His sole attention was on your clammy hand, tightly clasping his.

Hyunjin didn’t yet understand what it meant to crave the hand of someone in yours, for it to feel natural for fingers to hold one another. He was only seven. What does one really know at this age?

But he knew that he was drawn to grand things. The beauty of fireworks as they unfold in the sky, dazzling colors rivaling the hues of sunsets. To the towering sunflowers his mother takes him to see, so tall their petals almost seem to be reaching for the sun’s embrace. To the full moon and the way it hangs close to earth, as if yearning to enter our horizon, to sink into the soil and rest.

But in that moment, as he watched your gleeful smile, the blush tinting your cheeks as you tugged him along, a different amazement grew within his soul. It was quiet, it was soft, it didn't overwhelm his seven-years-old heart. It was enough.

You finally stop by a rock, settling in the sand with your hair fanning around you like a halo. Hyunjin hovers over you, his tentative gaze tracing your features, trying to pinpoint what had made that peculiar feeling pour over his body, like candle wax finally meeting its destined mold.

He doesn't find an answer, only your kind smile as you tap the place near you. You were giddy, as if you had run far when his parents remained mere meters away.

Hyunjin had noticed this urge in you to flee, to wander, always. He didn't know what it means. He thought that perhaps you didn't know either. He wondered if you'd ever run away from him. The question burned the tip of his tongue.

"Will we always run together?" Hyunjin suddenly asks, kneeling to meet your eyes.

"If you want to," you shrug. "Will you run away with me when we're older?"

"Where to?" he asks, a note of apprehension coloring his tone.

"I don't know. We'll know later."

"Okay."

"You pinky promise?"

"I do," Hyunjin entwines his pinky with yours, before leaning down to press a chaste kiss on your thumb pad. He avoids your eyes as a dusty blush cascades on his cheeks, akin to the fading pink of a sunken sunset. You giggle, reciprocating the kiss before pressing your thumbs together.

"Sealed forever," you grin, eyes disappearing into moon crescents. Your contagious happiness mirrors instantly on Hyunjin's face, his nose scrunching up in delight.

He wants to keep this smile on your face, he thinks, this intricate joy that dawns upon your features, brightening up your face, making your pinky in his feel lighter, warmer.

So, he takes out an orange from his pocket.

"Where did you get this?" you chuckle, eyes widening in delight as if presented with the world's most treasured jewel.

"A vendor gave it to me," he shrugs, handing it to you.

Your thumb punctures the tangerine's thick skin, making the fruit’s juice drip down your hands. You attempt to peel it but the skin breaks instantly, falling into the sand.

"Here, let me," Hyunjin offers, taking the orange from your hands, peeling it for you.

A strange warmth slowly spreads through his being, akin to tree roots anchoring onto the soil, to the unfurling of petals on the first day of spring. It feels good, for some reason, to do this mundane task for you.

This newfound feeling only solidifies when you smile brightly at him, breaking the fruit into two halves and handing one part to Hyunjin.

You no longer look like you want to run. You look content here, simply sharing an orange with him.

Hyunjin suddenly wants to buy you a whole crate of tangerines. Maybe even a farm of it- just trees upon trees that he can plant for you. He chases the thought away, he's only seven, he doesn't have money, where would he even store the oranges?

Hyunjin didn't have the answer to this question, nor the million ones swirling in his mind. But he knew your smile, the kindness in your eyes, the lingering scent of oranges on his fingers, even after washing his hands. And the word that sat heavy on his soul, from that night forth.

Hyunjin knew he loved you when he was seven years old.

there is nothing wrong contemplating God; under the chemtrails over the country club

"Found you," Hyunjin whispers, reclining on the rooftop near you.

"Wasn't hiding from you," you respond just as softly, your gaze fixed on the turquoise sky overhead. Your words cause Hyunjin's heart to swell within his chest, growing, expanding, pushing against his ribs, yearning to escape and splatter at your feet.

His emotions were always so grand- his happiness consuming his entire being, the sadness, the loneliness rattling his bones with an invincible cold. Then the love for you, not in dependence, the way the planets orbit around the sun. But with choice, because he wants to, craves being near.

"What are you doing?" he asks after a while, his voice slightly hoarse.

"Watching the chemtrails," you point out a tiny plane leaving a white trail in the sky.

"It looks so far away," he whispers in wonder, and you hum with a melancholic expression. Hyunjin curls his hand into a fist, resisting the urge to smooth the delicate frown etched on your brows.

"Didn't you like your birthday celebration?" he finally asks. He knows the answer before you quietly say, 'yes.' You were never one for the chic attire, the fine china and polished silverware reflecting the guests fake smiles. You only ever came to the country club for Hyunjin.

"I just... these people are here for me, supposedly. And yet, I feel so invisible downstairs. I bet no one even noticed my absence."

"I did," he replies instantly, contradicting you vehemently, wanting to dispel the shadows that cloud your mind. "And... I brought you an orange," he adds, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips. It grows when you beam at him, the chemtrails momentarily forgotten.

"Did you?"

"Mm, here," he swiftly peels the fruit for you, instinctively breaking it into two halves.

"I'm sixteen and I don't know how to peel a tangerine because of you," you giggle, biting into one part eagerly. Water dribbles down the side of your mouth, and Hyunjin delicately wipes it away, his hand cradling your jaw gently.

His heart beats wildly, drowning out the country club's orchestra. He's never been this close to you, noses nearly bumping into one another.

"Don't learn how to," he whispers, licking his lips nervously. He hopes you can't feel the tremor in his hand as it slides down your cheek.

"Why?"

"Then you won't need me anymore," he says honestly, and your eyes widen at his words. Say it, his heart pleads, I can't contain this love anymore. Hyunjin shakes his head, silencing his own thoughts. He'll make room for it; his heart will expand, even if it means bursting at the seams. He can't face your rejection.

"Can I ask you something?" you say after a while, still as close to him.

"Anything."

"Do you ever feel like you don't belong anywhere? You have friends and family, but you feel like..."

"Nobody's son?" he suggests.

"Yeah, nobody's daughter."

"Maybe we're not meant to belong to anyone else but ourselves."

"Isn't that sad?" you ask, bringing an orange wedge to Hyunjin's mouth. "What if I don't always have myself?"

"Well, you'll always have me."

"Do you promise me?" you ask eagerly, eyes wide, tone almost desperate.

"I promise." The fog dissipates, light spilling over your face once again.

"Even though you're so sought after?" you giggle.

"I'm not!"

"You are! Everybody wanted to talk to you downstairs. You're always the man of the hour," you wink, lying down on the floor once again.

"Really? I didn't notice," he says, settling next to you.

"Mm, you never notice anything," you sigh, resting your cheek atop his shoulder.

It's quiet again, save for the tranquil sound of your breaths. Your eyes are trained on the sky, following the path of each plane.

"They look really tiny."

"Maybe we're the small ones," you muse.

Hyunjin doesn't agree. Not when his love for you feels almost ancient, drawn from the depths of the very first fountain of love. It has stayed with him for nine years, intermingled with the very molecules of his being. You can't be small when what he feels for you is grander than the world.

"Maybe we are," he says as he slides an arm underneath your back, pulling you closer to his chest.

"Hyune," you call out softly.

"Mm?" he hums in reply.

"What do you think you're made for?"

I'm here to love you, he wants to say, achingly, fully, on your grand days and your small ones. To fall apart at the altar of your soul and to rise anew, by you, for you. To be yours.

"I'm here to peel you oranges." He whispers instead, his confession, for now.

"And I'm here to eat them, then."

we laugh about nothing as the summer gets cool; it's beautiful how this deep normality settles down over me

"Did you know you have a straight trail of moles on your back?" Hyunjin whispers, his cool breath akin to a gentle zephyr.

"It starts here," he bestows a tender kiss beneath your shoulder blade, as if marking the start of a constellation. "Then you have another one here," his lips brush against your skin, coaxing forth delicate goosebumps, like ripples on a moonlit pond. "And here," he trails down your spine, his mouth weaving a trail only he can see. "And a final one here," he lingers longer near the last mole, lips meeting your lower back delicately, akin to the tender graze of a feather.

If you had told Hyunjin that he would freely kiss your moles, hands trailing down your skin scented with chlorine and vanilla, he would have thought you were insane. But now he has you, because you want him too, against all odds. Hyunjin wasn't alone in his love; every emotion in your soul mirrored his own. Two sides of the same coin. Two halves of the same tangerine.

"And then... it wraps around your stomach," he flips you around until you face him, giddy giggles escaping your lips. "You see it? It goes right here, another straight line," he whispers in wonder, tracing over the moles on your skin as if in worship. There is so much he longs to articulate, words yearning to spill from his mouth. He realizes he can say them now, drape them over your body like a blanket knitted with love.

"Someone plucked stars and arranged them on your skin. You're a galaxy on your own, you know that right? So beautiful," he whispers, eyes wide in adulation, raking over each feature of yours, so much they're seared behind his eyelids. The only sight he sees when he goes to sleep.

"So are you," you smile, hands gently cradling his cheeks. Hands that held him at age seven, then eight, ten, thirteen, and twenty. Hands that dried his tears, patted his back, and played with his hair. Hands that are much more sacred than his own.

"No, you don't understand," he hovers over you, gently smoothing down your hair. "You're so beautiful, so much it dizzies me, consumes me. You consume me, entirely, and I-" He sucks in a deep breath as you smile lovingly, reassuringly.

"I know," you say. "I feel it too."

"I can't believe this is real," he shakes his head, thumb tracing your lower lip gently. "I didn't even plan on confessing when i brought you to this pool. And yet... it feels natural for us to be this way."

You nod, grinning. "Like we belong to one another."

"I told you I'd stay," his eyes soften, capturing you with the same tenderness as always, savoring every part of you.

"You always keep your promises," you smile, hand sliding down the nape of his neck, smoothing a stubborn tuft of hair.

Normal, that's the elusive term he was looking for. It is normal for him to hold you, to kiss you, to look into your eyes and find love swimming in your irises. It is the way it's supposed to be between you. He couldn't ever think of another outcome.

His eyes trail down to your arm, where two moles match perfectly with his, down to the placement, the space separating them both.

"Is this where we kissed each other the most in our past lives?" he trails off, knuckles brushing against your arm gently. You mirror his touch.

"So you believe we're soulmates?"

"Mm, I've always known."

"And why didn't you tell me?" you grin, tilting your head to the side.

"I peeled you tangerines."

His words seem to ignite something within you, memories of each time he peeled you oranges flooding back. Every birthday, each time you were sad, every time the fruit was near.

You stand up, straddling Hyunjin's lap, and then you kiss his eye mole, then the one on his cheek, trailing down his jaw mole, his neck, his arms.

"What are you doing?" he giggles, warm hands on your lower back.

"Making sure those moles show up in our next life too."

And at your words, Hyunjin swore that the citrusy scent of tangerines suddenly wafted in the air.

washing my hair, doing the laundry, late night TV i want you only

Your legs are comfortably propped on top of Hyunjin's, matching pairs of beige pajamas seamlessly merging into one another. The sweet scent of shampoo lingers in the air—a fragrance Hyunjin carefully massaged into your hair twenty minutes ago, his fingers still as gentle as they grazed your scalp, now at the age of twenty-six.

Nearly two decades later, Hyunjin still knows that he loves you. It is a different one from the love he felt at seven—a metamorphosis akin to the moon's phases, from crescent to full, distinct yet continuous. It clung to his being, melted into the very essence of his soul.

"Just how many white shirts do you own?" you giggle, folding another pair of Hyunjin's clothing, the melody of your laughter still rattling the insides of his heart. He smiles sheepishly, planting a tender kiss on your forehead before responding, "You wear half of them with me."

"Your clothes are mine. You agreed on this when you proposed to me," you state matter-of-factly.

"And what else did I agree on?" he smiles, placing two pairs of matching socks in the basket—yours and his.

"That you'd kiss me instead of doing the laundry," you say mischievously, and he chuckles, tilting his head back. The clothes are momentarily forgotten as he lowers your body onto the couch, one hand cradling your head.

"You know I can't say no to you," he smiles, left dimple appearing as it always does when you're near.

"I know," you grin, pulling him down by the hem of his pajamas, your lips meeting his.

Hyunjin still kisses you with the same quiet passion, slowly, as if rediscovering you all over again. His hand cradles your jaw, thumb caressing your cheek gently, as his lips find yours again and again—rosy, plump, seeking solace in your familiar warmth.

He's always been drawn to mysteries, grand things, and overwhelming emotions that defy comprehension. Things he'd never fully know, things he'd never be bored of. Yet, with you, it's different; he knows you, he's learned you, and he loves you more every day—purposefully, by choice, because he can't fathom a reality where he doesn't.

His lips press upon yours one last time before he pulls you onto his lap, burying his head in the crook of your neck. "You smell nice," he whispers.

"I smell like you."

"I know," he smiles, a gentle breeze escaping his lips and caressing your skin.

He closes his eyes, savoring the quietness, the domesticity of the scene—the folded laundry on the table, the background hum of the TV, the meal you'll cook later, waltzing under the fridge's light. You, the one love of his life—the small love and the grand one, the first love and the last one. The embodiment of it all.

Your arms drape around his shoulders as you relax in his hold, your breaths syncing into a tranquil rhythm. He's built himself a home in the ridges of your collarbones, a place for him to rest in the crook of your shoulder blade. Both of you are okay, both of you are safe.

"Do you remember when we were seven? We traveled together for the first time," you speak after a while, a weighty emotion enveloping your voice.

"I do."

"You promised me we'd run away when we grow older."

"I did."

"I don't want to run anymore. I'm content with you, right here," you whisper, and the words feel like sunflowers blooming in Hyunjin's chest. "I was so scared of growing up, of never feeling like I belong. To myself, to anyone. But I do, with you."

"Always," he pulls away, bringing your hand to his mouth, leaving sweet kisses on your ring finger.

"Thank you, my Hyune," you say, tears gathering in your eyes like morning dewdrops on leaves. "Thank you for peeling my oranges."

Your nose brushes against his, his thumb drawing circles on your palm.

"Thank you for pretending you don't know how to."

#stray kids reactions #stray kids x reader #skz x reader #stray kids imagines #stray kids imagine #stray kids fluff #skz fluff #skz fanfic #hwang hyunjin x you #hyunjin scenarios #hwang hyunjin x reader #hwang hyunjin fluff #hyunjin x reader #hyunjin fluff #stray kids fanfic

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blue-jisungs · 6 months ago

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tattoo

# author’s note … LOLOLOLOLOLOL GOING INSANE BC OF THIS MAN SOMEONE LOVK ME UP IN AN ASYLIUM BEFORE I START BUTING AND CHEWINT KN STUFF SKZOSIWJWJWNNENWWN IM NOT SORRY FOR THIS ONE

# warnings … wow um there’s a lot to unpack but swearing, yn calls him a slut once LMFAOOO, shirtless seungmin!!!!!!!!!!!!!! a bit chaotic at first teehee ++ not proofread bc i literally started typing w/o thinking n just wanted to post it for @slytherinshua

oh right it’s inspired by this pic here 😹😹😹😹😹😹😹😹😹😹

“what the absolute fuck is that?”

your voice echoes through the room, causing seungmin to jerk up. his slightly sore muscles from exercising moments ago tensed, a hiss escaping his lips.

“what do you mean, angel?” his voice was soft. your eyes scanned him up and down, mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water. seungmin was scared, to be frank. you never were so distressed about… anything, really.

“this, dumbass!” you whined and turned your phone to face him.

your boyfriend’s eyes widened upon seeing the picture he shared with villains today. his rib reveal tattoo, to be specific. he didn’t think you’d mind, it’s not like he didn’t share pictures of his chest or arms before.

“villains get to see your tattoo before me?” you grunted and tucked your phone away “and, and… what even is that behavior, seungmo?!”

crossing your arms and looking away, he started to understand what was your issue.

seungmin returned to his previous position before you barged into his bedroom and leaned his back against the wall. scanning your face, only to notice the flushed cheeks and nervous lip biting, he was certain what was it really about.

“you don’t have to be jealous, you know, angel” he hummed, a satisfied smirk forming on his face when he saw your eyes widen now. gotcha, that was exactly it. or maybe… “are you shy?”

“no!” you replied a bit faster and louder than intended, so you cleared your throat “no, not at all. i see men’s bare chest allll the time”

“oh really?” seungmin scoffed, clearly amused. you were so cute, he was about to burst “don’t say that or i’ll get jealous too”

“yeah, it was a lie. other men aren’t such sluts” you giggled and saw his eyes roll. obviously he liked the attention, you didn’t even blame him for that. but still…

you let out a deep sigh and plopped next to him onto the bed.

“i guess just give ma a warning next time…” your quiet murmur was followed by a sudden, sharp inhale.

seungmin lifted his back slowly and leisurely, almost teasingly, took his shirt off. the sun peeking through the window shone on his bare skin, making the tone of it even more honey colored and contrasting with the white sheets perfectly. then it hit you like a train, and a wave of heat spilled over your body. his perfectly toned stomach is on display and you are staring at it like a dog at a piece of meat–

“like what you see?” he asked with a boyish smirk. one hand traveling to rest under his head, atop of that his arm muscles flexing.

turning your gaze away, you bit the inside of your cheek. when you wanted to scold him about the picture, you didn’t expect him to do this. seungmin is still opening up to you, being the timid person he is, and skinship in your relationship so far only consisted of handholding, hugging and kisses. not that you minded, you enjoyed taking time and slowly but surely building your relationship based on trust.

but this…

“ah, come on. don’t be shy now” he hummed smugly, observing your eyes trace back to his exposed skin.

“are you okay with… yknow…” you stuttered, not even able to finish your thought. seungmin giggled, possibly killing you inside even more. wanting to hide from his sight, a bit overwhelming at the moment, you leaned and laid next to him. burying your face in his neck seungmin could feel the heat radiating off it.

“i’m fine. villains got to see it, so you should too, hm? besides, it’s gonna be summer soon. get used to this sight, angel” he said and his other hand traced down to your waist. drawing small circles on your skin, you sighed.

“you’re way too cocky” with a mumble, you fixed your position a bit and saw his stomach again. you could see the way it rose up and down rhythmically and you were wondering if he was in distress as much as you were.

suddenly you noticed the ink on his rib and smiled softly.

“can i…” you gulped, shyly. it took him a while before realizing what you meant. with a gentle nod, you decided to reach out slowly.

as you traced the tattoo subtly, almost feather-lightly as if scared that you will hurt him, the skin underneath your fingertips was hot and tender. only when you did that, seungmin’s composure fell apart - like a building made out of legos - and his breath hitched.

he never showed the tattoo to anyone (well, besides villains now), not to mention touching it. but he enjoyed the intimacy of the gesture. seugmin adored the way you were so careful with it, love and care in your eyes.

“what does it mean?” you whispered, the weight of this moment bringing a sudden realization of how quiet it is in the room.

“always be thankful six nine nine nine oh two” your boyfriend’s voice had a tint of melancholy in it, casing your heart to melt. it was what the tattoo said. “those are the birth years of my parents, brother and me”

you hummed in acknowledgement, smiling. you leaned a bit closer and pecked the tattoo. then you returned to your previous position and rested your head in the crook of your neck.

basking in the quiet and calm moment, at the verge of falling asleep, you heard seungmin’s wiper as he pulled you closer.

“i should add your birth year there one day”

masterlist <3

taglist. @primoppang ,, @mon2sunjinsuver,, @eternalgyu ,, @haecien ,, @slytherinshua

#xdinary heroes #xdh imagines #xdinari hero fanfic #xdinary heroes fluff #xdh #xdh fluff #xdh x reader #o.de x reader #o.de xdinary heroes #o.de #oh seungmin #xdh reactions #xdh soft hours #oh seungmin x reader #xdh x yn #o.de fluff #xdh o.de

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xinfinityl0ve17 · 2 months ago

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Yukari Ōba

Yukari Ōba is the exclusive fashion designer for MALICE MIZER. All of their costumes are her work.

People with titles like "planner," "editor," or "writer" often like to separate their jobs into small roles. As a result, some people end up with two or three titles and end up saying how busy they are. Among them i think the profession of designer is currently being broken down into the most minute distinctions. It’s not just about people who create design sketches, cut fabrics, or shape the garments—there are specialists in hats, accessories, knitwear, and so on. I can understand if someone with a foot fetish only wants to make things related to feet, but recently, something’s been bothering me. It starts with the question of whether it's okay to refer to Ōba-san simply as a "costume designer."

She’s responsible for the image of MALICE MIZER after their revival. Under the name of costumes, accessories, and hairstyling, she handles everything from patchwork to welding (pay attention to KAMI's hands this time) to even the stage props. Can we really call her a "designer" or "costume person" in just one second?

However, as I was agonizing over this, Ōba-san spoke enthusiastically, saying, "This part was really difficult, look at it! Oh, and here too..." She talked joyfully about how she changed the fabrics little by little and factored in lighting effects. She said with a laugh, "People often tell me, 'No one will notice you went that far,' but I love doing it." Through her words, I understood one thing: Ōba-san doesn't care what she's called, as long as she can create costumes. It’s her passion. That's why such lively, remarkable costumes are born from her work.

Mana

Mana had told me, "I imagine the feathers gently falling off!" (laughs). It wasn’t meant to change that much, but after making it, I thought, "I want to make it cuter," partly because too much of the legs were showing. I used a fabric called washer organza for the feathers, and also incorporated it into the underskirt, creating a tutu-like effect with about four layers to add volume. The pom-poms were something Mana brought in, saying, "I want to attach these somewhere," and when he attached them herself, she said, "It's cute!" (laughs). Actually, he also made the wig and chains with his own hands.

The butterflies on the wings aren’t real, of course (laughs), but I dyed each one individually. Even in places where it seems casual, there’s a lot of effort behind it (laughs). The fabric for the costume was something Mana requested, saying he wanted a luxurious material that looks like beads. I brought various options and he was especially fond of this one fabric because it’s very light. He even said, "It feels like I’m wearing nothing, this is perfect!" (laughs). It was a hit (laughs). As for the accessories, he said he wanted something with the feel of a wedding fountain with light shining inside it (laughs). I remade it several times to create something that bounces back when touched.

We also tore up light blue feathers and embedded them. We worked hard on even the smallest details that might seem like nothing at first glance (laughs). To make sure the guitar strap doesn’t get tangled, I discreetly made the wings detachable with Velcro (laughs).

Közi

Közi is someone who likes to plan everything from the start. When I first saw the design, I thought of a fiery phoenix, so I decided to make it based on that image. The fabric is the same as Mana's but in a different color. He said, "I've worn something like this before." This time, he wanted something that resembled a jumpsuit. Even though it has no elasticity, I went ahead and made it, but when he wore it, he said, "It's tight..." (laughs). Even though it was restrictive, he’s someone who enters the role through appearance.

The feathers on the chest were dyed with a gradient because I wanted to add that effect, but balancing it was tricky. While adjusting during the fitting, I mixed in red, which is his signature color. This jumpsuit also has Velcro to make it easier for the guitar strap to pass through. The accessories ended up looking very different from the design sketches because when we attached them to the sleeves, it made playing the guitar difficult (laughs). So, when we finished one sleeve, we decided to wrap it around his neck, creating a more luxurious design. The wings on his back are made from aurora film, which changes color depending on the light, appearing red or gold. The material is aluminum, making it very heavy, but the overall cohesiveness of the costume is strong, so he managed to play with it as it was. As for the strawberry hat, we added three-dimensionality using feathers, doubling its size at Közi’s request.

By the way, when he wears the costume, he’s 196 cm tall, from his shoes to the top of his head (laughs). All the members end up being around that height, right? So we make the inseam 100 cm. People always ask, "Who on earth is going to wear these?" (laughs).

Yu~ki

He had an image of a "beast" in mind, and even Yu~ki himself said, "This is quite an adventure." The skirt was actually his first try—a dress made of enamel, something we figured out together during the fitting process. It’s a double-layered design, with the back being longer and slits cut into it, creating this eerie look. The bones are designed to resemble human bones, adding shadow to enhance the effect. The back is made of two layers of umbrella-like fabric, with a sheer fabric sandwiched in between to create a shadow effect. At first glance, it looks like a single layer, but there's a lot of depth (laughs). In terms of time, his costume was the fastest to make because once Yu~ki decides on a design, he sticks to it.

Yu~ki, from the start, based his look on the initial image and always strives to get as close to it as possible. The hardest part was dealing with the enamel fabric's texture. Although we wanted it to look big, enamel has this shiny, slick look, so we used a technique like gathering to create a pinched effect, making it appear more three-dimensional, even under lights. This time, it's sleeveless, but the tattoos he recently got give it a good balance. However, it seems it takes quite a long time to paint his arms, which is a challenge (laughs).

Kami

For Bel Air, it seems that the design he envisioned was difficult to realize. This time, I adjusted the shape of the collar slightly upwards to make it easier to take off. Since taking off the costume was a concern, I incorporated his favorite Rurubar lace in two layers and embroidered it with CD sequins to give off a subtle shimmer, ensuring that the fans could see the light reflecting off it. The sequins were also added to the wings, inspired by his recent thematic focus. They create a fantastical effect, with a gradient from blue to purple as the light shines on them. The wings are the largest element, but they’re lightweight, which allowed Kami to say, "I want to perform while wearing them" (laughs).

For the headpiece, i dyed a cup and embedded black feathers as an accent giving it a mysterious shape that he can just throw on. Lately, he’s been wanting to wear a pink wig that he bought himself, but it’s a bit too intense, so I’m thinking of adding some mesh to tone it down (laughs). The overall concept was inspired by looking at an insect encyclopedia, specifically butterflies. Additionally as Kami insisted from the beginning, there’s a tail attached (laughs).

Gackt

This time, all the members wanted to have wings, so that served as the basis for the design. The members had very detailed requests, particularly Gackt, who was inspired by his favorite movie, The Crow. He wanted the outfit to highlight his beautiful body lines, so while the design is simple, it also needed to allow for movement. Ideally, I would have preferred a stretchy material, but I was determined to use cotton velvet, which has a dark and moody atmosphere, while also creating the effect of gold shining through the darkness.

The cotton velvet, combined with cut velvet, made sitting difficult for Gackt, but when the light hits it, the gold stands out clearly against the black backdrop. The wings, which he was very particular about, were designed in three layers. When closed, they fold up slightly, but when fully opened, they span 4 meters. For live performances, Gackt uses strings to control them, allowing the wings to spread open. The construction is sturdy, with hidden mechanisms for the strings, making the wings quite heavy. The wings were made using about four different patterns, and sequins were added so that when the light hits them, they appear three-dimensional. We used an incredible amount of feathers for the wings as well.

The end

#mana sama #malice mizer #kami malice mizer #malice mizer közi #magazine #malice mizer mana #yu~ki malice mizer #malice mizer gackt #celebrity interviews #malicemizerinterview #vkei #vkeiinterview #vkei icons #vkeistyle #vkeiband #old school vkei #vkei makeup #vkei fashion #vkei art

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lexo-is-pesto · 5 months ago

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I'm so excited to finally post this.

My full Murder Drones reference! so hopefully I can keep up consistency

Obviously, this is full of my own head canons so close ups and explanations under the cut (it's a LOT) >;]

To be totally honest my focus was on the main characters, and I think that shows in the designs of the Manor Drones and Cabin Fever Squad. BUT I'll still do my best to explain my process here.

For the Disassemblers I decided to do very different builds for each but the same color pallet.

My idea here was that since each have a different designation letter, that was akin to their model type. That's also why "the company" was able to clone J so easily, they just had her model on file. (also like to imagine there are 26 different forms of the Disassemblers Imao).

I had all the colors remain the same to show their unity and of course the Absolute Solver-ification of the basic Worker Drone color scheme. Essentially, I just took the monochromatic WD colors and put the highlighter yellow over it that Cyn loves so much.

For J I did a more lean and strong build. I wanted her to exude that leader energy. I also made her Core a star shape for similar reasons and then I also noticed that N and V had caution stripes at the top of their legs but as far as I could see J didn't, so I decided to add those to the very top of her legs to finish the garter belt look she's got going on. For her hair, I actually really like the pigtails I just flattened them out a bit because the big cutesy poof they had didn't fit her style in my opinion. I brought it back for her worker form though.

With V I gave her a round yet sharp look. (My favorite added detail is the sharp shoulders) I did make her the shortest of the DD because everyone loves the small but vicious archetype. For her core I made it a sword or spear shape, because she's extra violent. And finally, I made her legs a little more pointed than J's to finish off the sharp look.

Last but CERTAINLY not least, N's design is meant to be soft and plushy but still has a little edge to it. His hair is fluffy but the tufts curl to be sharp, His core is meant to look like a heart but it's upside down so the point is still facing the top (which makes it look more like a club but whatever) I gave him a rounder torso than the other two and his elbow and kneecaps are softer too. His general construction is still menacing, though, so don't get too comfortable with all the fluff. I also spent a LONG time contemplating if I should make his thighs black to look like little biker shorts to contrast with J and V's sock looks but went against it because I love how the hazard stripes stand out against the white.

For N and V's worker forms I basically took out all the sharp edges and rounded them out. J's still a little sharp though not as much.

With the Workers I did the opposite of the DD. They have the EXACT same body types (minus Uzi because she's little) and instead I changed their color schemes to all be unique to their eye lights

Since Worker Drones were made to... well... WORK I think their initial manufacturing would be pretty uniform. A copy and paste if you will. It was only when they were left to their own devices that the WD started to customize themselves. Thus came the wigs and clothes.

I like to think the color started with those infected with the Solver, so Yeva and Nori gained color and then passed that on to their kids. Thats also why Alice has color, but Khan, The Manor Squad, and some other drones in the colony don't. Does not explain Lizzy and Thad though (maybe they have a distant relative that had the solver idk)

It was a lot harder to infer about what a base WD body would look like Maybe I was just looking in the wrong places, but I had to infer with things like the worker helmets, we see every WD except Uzi wear one but they seem more coordinated with their outfits so I decided to just continue my color head-canon that its naturally monochrome and you can customize it if you want to!

I added a light to the feet of the worker drones to match the hand lights. I don't think there's a canon reason for the lights but, on the workers at least. I think they're there to help them do grunt work in the dark! to light their ways in caves or tight spaces so they could do their job better. Now they're just another robot cosmetic

For the Parents, I gave them wrinkles because I thought it was unfair that Khan was the only one who got them. So, Nori gets crow's feet hurray! No but I probably had the most difficult time with these drones. It was hard to separate the canon from fanon since we know so little about them, but I fought off all the demons to keep their designs relatively grounded. Minus Khan's scar. And Alice's more natural horns. and-

I also gave some drones eyelashes. just cause. if I thought it fit, I added it and if it didn't, I didn't add it.

Now you may be wondering "Lexo what's up with all the cracks!?" the idea here is that it's the solver taking over. We see in Cabin Fever and Home that the solver virus fundamentally changes the body of a drone. The crack in the casing is basically this process. Depending on the stage of which your drone is at it changes the intensity. We see Cyn being the main host and essentially patient 0, so she has the most cracks. It starts at the core then spreads until it reshapes you entirely and you become a Disassembly Drone. Unless you stop it in time. Thats why J, V, and N have the pale lines on the bottom of their torso, they're more pretty and cleaner since they achieved the solvers "final form" so to speak. Nori and Yeva on the other hand, have repaired cracks but they're still messy since they were stopped mid-way. Alice, however, did not stop the spread with the solver cure since she was "abandoned" so instead she just cut out her core entirely. Yup. Shes functioning on pure insanity and spite at this point. And then of course with the new hosts, there is light spreading. TL: DR the cracks are a zombie bite.

But that's it for my Murder Drones head canons and designs! If you read all the way to the end, you're a champ and I love you. Have a cookie superstar <3🍪

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scary-grace · 6 days ago

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(secret) santa, baby - part 6 of a shigaraki x f!reader fic

Shigaraki doesn't want to participate in the office's Secret Santa exchange, but when Toga promises to make it easy on him, he gives in. But making it easy for him makes it a lot harder for you -- you're the one who got his list. Office AU, no quirks. A fic in 12 parts. Divider by @ wcnderlnds

part i part ii part iii part iv part v part vi part vii

part vi (holiday parties)

Everybody’s been talking about the company holiday party scheduled for Christmas night for a month and a half, and you assumed everybody would settle for that one instead of throwing parties of their own. But based on the number of party invitations that have been dropped on your desk, your coworkers are as over-the-top about holiday parties as they are about everything else. It seems like there’s a party or two every night, work nights included. You’ve gotten at least five invitations, and in your efforts to make friends, you’ve been going to all of them.

So far you’ve done a cookie party, a gingerbread house party, a holiday-themed DIY spa night with your coworkers from the advertising department, karaoke with the PR team, a White Elephant party that scraped up almost everybody and took almost four hours to get through, and one party that was just an eggnog-fueled walk through Yaoyorozu’s ritzy neighborhood, which you have to admit has the prettiest Christmas light displays you’ve ever seen. You can hang in there with the best of them, but you’re getting sort of partied out.

The next invitation arrives while you’re at your desk the day after Yaoyorozu’s party, still trying to shake off the eggnog, and it’s delivered by the last person you’d have expected to care about that kind of thing. “Toga’s having a party,” Shigaraki says without preamble. He drops the invitation down on your desk, next to the pen you got from your Secret Santa. “You’re invited.”

He looks really unhappy about it. It makes you nervous. “Did she tell you to invite me?”

“Where do you think I got this?” Shigaraki gestures at it with one hand, and you notice that his skin looks less irritated than it did the last time you saw him. He must be using the hand cream, and the feeling of accomplishment that settles around you is almost enough to cut the nerves of this conversation. “Can you go to the party or not?”

You study the invitation. “A pajama party?”

“She just means not work clothes,” Shigaraki says. He scratches lightly at his neck. “We just eat and hang out and watch Christmas movies. Nothing weird.”

“Other than you watching Christmas movies,” you say. He glances at you, then looks away. “I thought you hated this stuff.”

“There are drinks, too. That helps.”

You’re kind of maxed out on Christmas drinks. You glance at the invitation. It’s for tomorrow, which isn’t a work night, and you don’t have anything planned. Toga’s been nice to you. If it’s Toga’s party and she’s inviting her friends, Spinner and Twice will be there, and they’ve been nice to you, too. You might not know Dabi or Magne or Compress very well, but you think you can probably avoid bothering them if you’re careful. There’s not a reason to say no – except the reason that’s standing in front of you, waiting with increasing irritation for you to reply. “Well?”

“Do you want me to go?” you ask, and Shigaraki stares at you. “If you’re only inviting me because Toga’s making you –”

“That’s not what I said,” Shigaraki says. He looks even more annoyed than he did a second ago, but there’s color coming up in his face. You wonder if that’s what you looked like when you were singing a Christmas song to ward off the carolers. “Can you go or not?”

“Um –” If you say yes, he’ll stop staring at you like that. And you still need to make friends. “Yes. Tell Toga I’m looking forward to it.”

Shigaraki nods once and stalks off, probably headed straight back to the basement. You study Toga’s invitation a little more carefully. There’s a list of movies on it that looks pretty good, and it says you’re not supposed to bring anything except yourself, your pajamas, and an ugly sweater if you have one. It sounds like a quieter party than the ones you’ve been going to, and it’s not a work night tomorrow, so there’s no reason for you to feel anxious about it. Is there?

“Hey!” Ashido’s peering over the wall of her cubicle into yours. “Did I hear that right? Shigaraki left the dungeon just to ask you out?”

Your face goes up in flames. “He didn’t ask me out. He was just dropping off an invitation to Toga’s party. She must have asked him –”

“That’s not what he said,” Hakagure says, leaning out of her cubicle across the way to stare at you. “You assumed Toga asked him to ask you, but he didn’t agree.”

“And we know Toga usually hand-delivers her invitations,” Ashido continues, “because Uraraka got one. Right, Uraraka?”

“I went last year, too,” Uraraka says. “It’s different, but it’s okay. They’re all a lot different when they’re not at work.”

Uraraka’s going, too. Knowing that eases your mind a little bit. And knowing that they’re different than they are at work is a positive. You think. Given that ‘what Shigaraki’s like at work’ is a category broad enough to include just about every behavior somebody can exhibit without getting fired, you’ve really got no idea what he could possibly be like in his off hours. In twenty-four hours and change, you’re going to find out.

You try not to think about what Ashido and Hagakure said, but it lurks at the edges of your thoughts overnight and into the next day, and by the time you’re knocking on the door to Toga’s apartment, you can’t ignore it any longer. He didn’t say Toga told him to ask you. He also didn’t say he didn’t want you to go. In your observations of Shigaraki, you’ve never seen him be shy about saying what he doesn’t like. If he didn’t want you to go, you’d have known about it. Which means he does want you to be here. Why does he want to see you outside of work? Is he really –

“You came!” The door opens in your face, startling you out of your thoughts, and Toga pulls you inside before you can get your bearings entirely. “Tomura-kun said he needed an invitation for you, but we didn’t think he’d actually go through with it. I’m so glad you’re here!”

“He went through with it? Damn.” Dabi appears around the corner. If you’d been trying to predict his outfit for a pajama party, you wouldn’t have picked an actual pajama set, which is what he’s wearing. “I hope you like lame-ass Christmas horror movies, because that’s what we’re watching first.”

“There are Christmas horror movies?”

“Oh yeah! Lots of them!” Twice also has a pajama set. His comes with a hat on it. “We have to watch at least one every year so Shigaraki won’t get up and leave when we try to watch Home Alone or Elf.”

“And this year we had to have two horror movies,” Magne adds. She’s in the kitchen, mixing drinks. “It’s the only way we can get him to sit through Love Actually.”

“How do you pick the movies?” you ask. Magne hands you a drink, then shoos you towards the living room, which is a sea of couches and beanbag chairs. “Does everybody pick?”

“We always do Nightmare Before Christmas, since we can all agree on that one,” Spinner says. He’s already sitting down, and his idea of pajamas looks a lot more like yours – sweatpants, sweater, both sort of old. “Then we put all the others on a corkboard and play darts to pick.”

He points over to one wall, and sure enough, you can see a corkboard covered in darts and tiny pieces of paper. “Anybody who’s invited can suggest one.”

“One of mine made it this year,” Uraraka says brightly. “Die Hard.”

“You could have added one, too, if somebody hadn’t waited so long to invite you –”

“Give it a rest,” Shigaraki says, and you jump. You almost didn’t notice him, settled in like he is at one corner of the couch with the hood of his sweatshirt pulled up over his hair. “Take one of my picks. So you won’t have to watch a bunch of things you hate.”

“Oh, that’s okay –”

“No,” Shigaraki says. He sits up and his hood falls down. “Pick something.”

“Pick something,” Twice agrees, edging past you to plop down on the couch next to Shigaraki. “Save us from the gremlins. I can’t watch the microwave scene again.”

“No, we should keep the gremlins. I don’t want to watch that Krampus thing,” Toga complains. “It looks so gross and weird –”

“We only have one movie that’s off-limits,” Spinner says. “It’s –”

“The Grinch,” you say, and Spinner gives you a surprised look. “Let me think for a second.”

“Sit down while you’re thinking about it,” Magne advises, reaching over the back of the couch to shove Twice towards the middle and free up the space next to Shigaraki. Is that where you’re supposed to sit? “Go on.”

You sit down, careful not to spill your drink, and think through the list of Christmas movies you know. You don’t want to pick something they’ll hate – or something Shigaraki will hate, given that he’s the one who invited you – and the only thing you have to go on is that they all like Nightmare Before Christmas. Hasn’t Tim Burton done another Christmas movie? You take a sip of your drink, which is thankfully not eggnog, to jog your memory. “What about Edward Scissorhands?”

“Never seen that one,” Dabi muses. “Spinner. Get rid of the gremlins and add it to the lineup.”

You haven’t seen it in forever. Hopefully it’s not bad, and hopefully everybody drinks enough by then that they don’t care whether it’s good or not. As Spinner screws around with the TV and everyone else starts looking for spots to sit, you turn your attention to Shigaraki. “Thank you.”

“For what?”

“Letting me pick one,” you say.

Shigaraki shrugs. The two of you are sitting close enough that his shoulder brushes against yours. “It’s not a big deal. I knew you wouldn’t pick the Grinch.”

“I know a Grinch-free zone when I’m in one,” you say, and Shigaraki’s scarred mouth pulls up slightly at one corner. You can’t imagine him smiling like that at work, and you don’t know how you feel about it. “Thanks for inviting me to this, too.”

“Toga didn’t make me,” Shigaraki says. “It was my idea. Just so you know.”

He was holding your gaze at first. When he says that, he looks away, and you don’t try to make him look back. You face front and wait for Toga to start the movie, and when Magne sits down on the couch, you scoot just a little closer to Shigaraki to make room. It reminds you of high school in some sense you can’t put your finger on, some way you’re not ready to look at too closely. But there are five movies in the queue for Toga’s holiday party. You’ve got a long time tonight to figure it out.

<- part v part vii ->

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