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ramblingoak · 1 day

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The Perfect Moment

Mushy May in Lucifer's Hollow: Day 14 - Doing Each Others' Makeup

Mist x Aurora (using a bonus prompt today and kind of playing with it a bit)

This fic is set in an alternate universe in a town called Lucifer's Hollow. It's sort of like a Satanic version of a Hallmark town. For Mushy May I'll be using the prompts to post little snippets of life for the humans and ghouls that live there 💙 Thank you to @forlorn-crows for putting Mushy May together!

~ In Lucifer's Hollow Mist owns an antique store called The Reliquary and Aurora owns Little Sunshine Tattoos ~

Warnings: mentions of a tattoo needle otherwise just very sappy, sfw, 670 words (thank you to @ghuleh-recs for the dividers!)

“You need to hold still unless you want me to mess up.”

“I am holding still.” Mist ignored Aurora’s look, taking a deep breath and trying to relax again. It wasn’t that the needle hurt, it just felt…weird. The buzzing sound was almost worse but Aurora had put some music on that was helping her tune it out. “How does it look?”

“Hideous.”

Alright she deserved that. She resolved to stay quiet and let Aurora work. The ghoulette had been fretting over the design of the tattoo for weeks now. Sometimes even going over to Mountain’s to get Rain’s opinion. Mist had seen dozens of different variations of it, each one more beautiful than the next. She had started to feel bad about asking Aurora since it was obvious her girlfriend was stressing over the whole thing but to Mist there was no one else she’d rather have design it.

And obviously no one else she’d rather have tattoo it.

“Thank you.” Mist glanced over when the buzzing stopped, her eyes immediately meeting those of Aurora’s. “I’m glad you’re doing it.”

“Baby, I’m honored you asked me.” Aurora grabbed a rag and wiped away some excess ink. “And the design you wanted it’s…well…”

“It’s what? I thought you liked the idea.”

“I do! Mist, I love it. It's…well it’s us.” The ghoulette sniffled a bit and Mist felt her own eyes watering slightly. “I love you so much.”

She knew she wasn’t supposed to move but nothing was going to stop her from kissing Aurora at that moment. The ghoulette’s lips were soft like always, a hint of coffee still clinging to them from earlier. It was chaste at first but like usual it didn’t take long for the kiss to deepen, for their mouths to open and their tongues to tangle together. Mist pulled away after a moment and cupped Aurora’s cheek, swiping at the few tears that had escaped with her fingers.

“You’re such a sap.” She yelped when Aurora playfully nipped at her thumb. “But I love you too.”

“I’m never going to get tired of you saying that.”

“Me calling you a sap or saying I love you?”

“Hmm, probably both.” Mist grinned as she settled back in the chair, placing her arm back where it had been resting before. “I’m almost done. Just going to add some color to the water.”

“Take your time.”

When Aurora started the tattoo gun up again Mist looked down at her lap, focusing on the silver ring the ghoulette had given her not too long ago. There was a single pink stone on the band, the same shade of pink as Aurora’s eyes. She still couldn’t believe it, her and Aurora were now engaged. They had gone and picked out a matching ring for Aurora too, but her stone was the same shade of blue as Mist’s eyes.

It was a moment she was never going to forget. They had trekked out into the woods a bit, heading towards the pond that was close to Mountain’s farmhouse. The whole town was awake and watching the skies, waiting for the aurora borealis to appear. It was an occurrence so rare that a big event had been made of it. People were camped out in their yards or in the various parks around town.

But Aurora had wanted to be away from everyone, claiming that she just wanted to have a nice private picnic together. It didn’t really matter to Mist, there wasn’t much Aurora could ask her to do that she’d say no to. Besides, a picnic next to the water with the aurora borealis above their heads? It was the perfect moment, a moment Mist would never forget for as long as she lived.

And it was a moment she had decided to memorialize with a tattoo. One that combined her favorite spot in town with her favorite moment of her life. One created by her favorite person too. Satanas, they were both sappy and gross.

Mist wouldn’t have it any other way.

If you'd like to be added/removed from the tag list (or if I accidentally left your name off) of this fic or any of my others please leave a comment or send me a dm! Thank you 💙

My Masterlist ~ My Archive of our Own ~ My Ko-Fi Tip Jar

More snippets from this verse are on my masterlist under "Ongoing Series"!

Other Mushy May days: 1 / 2 / 3 / 4 / 5 / 6 / 7 / 8 / 9 / 10 / 11 / 12 / 13 / 14 / 15

#mist x aurora #the band ghost fanfiction #ghost band fanfic #mushy may 2024 #tales from lucifer's hollow #oakie's writing #nameless ghoulettes

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harryseyebrows · 2 years

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me today: graphic design is my passion

#honestly I think what helped me going from the original sushi restaurant drawing and the satellite one #was moving away from the idea that they were ~tattoo designs #like once I was like oh this can just be a fun digital art project it became more enjoyable #and gave me more freedom with color and lines and such #so maybe I will start making things that I can turn into tangle pieces like stickers or mug designs #bc I think that would be really cool #to not just have prints of work I’ve done #but movable pieces

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bennitastisch · 2 years

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i really wanna get a tattoo in the memory of the pets i grew up with but im not too sure abt the design

#i mean i should prolly get multiple #cause there were a lot of pets #but the one that inspired me to gwt a tattoo for in the forst place was my latest cat lilly who i had to leave with my parents when i moved #out #i already have two ideas for tattoos of her and one of a design for another vat of mine who was very close to lilly but passed away #abt 2 years ago #we also had rabbits and dogs and birds and a third cat that also passed away a few years ago #but i have no idea abt any designs for them #amd i dont want the standart paw print tattoo #i mean i wouldve if i couldve gotten a paw print from them but not just a random one #the two designs i have in mind for lilly r one of her lil head sticking up in the glass window of the door and eagerly waiting for me to #finally come upstairs and greet her or looking after me angrily as i left bc she missed me #and the other design is her laying down in a planter #the one of the cat that was close to lilly (her name was mascha) is her drinking from the toilet bowl cause she liked to do that #but idk what to get for the third cat #maybe her laying in the middle of the road and a car direct in front of her bc she loved napping in the spreets and did not give a single #shit abt what the ppl in their big metal boxes wanted #but i could also combine twi tattoos i wanted for a long time #ive been playing with the idea of getting like a building with multiple colorfully lit windows and some vague designs in them #bc iike looking into ppls windows and imagine the live theyre living #anyways lol i could put lillys head sticking iut in one of them #ben talks #bennitastisch

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koishiro · 7 months

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# - 𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐁𝐈𝐃𝐃𝐄𝐍 📍

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆ — 𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒 : originally planning to sit through hours of pain by the hands of a blond tattoo artist - who you know is very well off limits - bakugo finds a way to calm your nerves

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆ — 𝐆𝐄𝐍𝐑𝐄 : smut

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆ — 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐀𝐈𝐍𝐒 : aged up!characters, oral (f!receiving), doggy style + missionary, SLIGHT nipple play

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆ — 𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 : tattoo artist!bakugo x f!reader

masterlist | bnha masterlist

“Fucking - shit!”

You'd started just after a late lunch, and the day was drawing to a close. This was your second sitting too; there was a lot of detail in this one and you'd probably be back anyway. A couple of hours was all you could handle, realistically – otherwise you'd stand up from the couch and fall straight back down again.

The first time you tentatively opened the door, you were pretty nervous. Everyone had been raving about the place, and it felt intimidating – not in a grimy way, but more like out-of-your-depth. It was so clean – spotless even – professional and artistic. There were some incredible pieces of art on the walls and retro tattoos everywhere. The other artists were hipster types with beards, rimless glasses and flesh tunnels in their ears.

This time you weren't quite so unnerved. It was busier when you returned for the second appointment, but livelier too – three or four artists working on clients, everyone talking, the artists laughing and their subjects trying not to for fear of moving.

You stood on a chair as he applied the stencil to your lower leg. You watched from high up as the blond carefully positioned it just-so, his head bowed over his work, his own tattoos peeking out from the collar of his shirt, creeping up his neck. He blew a lock of blond hair away from his face as he straightened, telling you to lie face down on the padded massage couch.

It hurt like hell on the back of your calf. More than the first time, when he'd worked around the side and over your shinbone. You distracted yourself with your phone, checking your Instagram account, emails- anything really. You noticed last time that he hadn't been much of a talker. You tried to engage in conversation, curious about the man who was leaving permanent marks on you and while he was perfectly polite, it seemed like he didn't want to chat.

"Smacks on that bit, huh," he'd said, as you took a break for a moment to adjust your position. You had done your best to stay still, but joked as you started that you'd have to make a real effort not to kick him in the face. After a while you had to fidget, because you had held yourself up on your elbows and were starting to tire.

"Too right," you sigh. "Ah well, it'll be worth it in the end”

He'd laughed with his colleagues but didn't seem to want to make small talk with you. As you lay back down, you glanced backward, appreciating how he looked as he concentrated on changing the needle in the tattoo gun. You went back to your phone, quickly squashing your thoughts. His girlfriend had been there, spending the last of her lunchbreak with him. And you had your own man at home. You were quite happy. Nothing wrong with appreciation though, you thought. No-

The sting on your leg made it hard to think anyway, so you looked around the room. One of the tattoo designs on the wall depicted a buxom young woman bent over a sailor's knee, taking a spanking, her heels flailing in the air. You wondered who'd drawn that one, and entertained the faint hope that it was one of yours. That you liked the idea.

The afternoon was drawing in and you'd almost finished. The other artists had completed working on their clients and all but one had disappeared for the afternoon. The read-head dude in the drainpipe jeans.

"Oi Bakugo, you almost done there?" Red-headed guy called over.

"Yeah, just some highlights and a bit of shading to go. You head off. I'll lock up”

"You sure? Thanks man. She doesn't look like the mugging-for-the-takings type," Red-head-dude grinned at you. "In fact she's been as quiet as a mouse”

"I didn't shut up first time round," you smiled back. "Nerves I guess”

"Ah, you got no reason to be nervous now though," smiled your artist. "Pro now, aren't ya? See you in the morning, dude," the man you now know as Bakugo, raised a hand in farewell to his colleague, and the bell on the door rattled as he closed it.

You laughed quietly.

"What?"

"You, taking the piss out of me. Just because it's only my second tattoo, and you're covered…”

"I wasn't!" he protested in mock horror. "Besides, these have been collected over years”

It was odd, you noticed, but as the needle burned on your skin, you felt Bakugo’s gloved fingers as he pulled the skin taut. He was gentle, but where his fingers made contact, you could feel the same burning sensation as where the needle buzzed. Like it was transferring pain. How strange that it should feel that way.

"Where'd it hurt most on you, then?" You asked, feeling a need to fill the silence of the shop.

"Hmm..." he tried to recall. "Probably the same place – or ribs, I think. That's always sore”

"It's transient though isn't it," you mused. "I'd still rather do this than be pierced. This hurts less”

Bakugo laughed. "I guess that depends on where you're pierced though. And piercing's quicker. Come on then, own up... Where?"

He was more talkative when there was no-one else around. You chuckled and dropped your head between your arms, onto the couch.

"Oh, now you're asking!"

"Ohhh... One of those, was it?"

"Yup. It's weird, sitting there fully clothed from the waist up, while someone's bending over your nether regions with a fucking great needle”

"Oh… Oh! Shit! I thought you were gonna say nipple!"

"Erm, no. I'm told that's bloody agony, although I do kinda fancy it. No, this was… well… they call it a VCH" you were pretty sure he'd know exactly where that went.

"Takes all sorts, I suppose. You don't look the type," he said.

"Is there a type..? I didn't keep it anyway. It was really annoying. What about you?"

"Oh.. um.. no. I stick to ink"

You could see that. Bakugo wore long army type pants but you could already guess that his lower legs were covered, as were his arms, and you noted that there must have been something across his shoulders at least. Still, that seemed to be par for the course – you never met a tattooist that didn't have shitloads of the damn things themselves.

"Okay.. just about done here. You did well – no wriggling. Wanna look?"

You sat up slowly. you go and look in the mirror, and decided to get moving. you dropped your feet to the floor and stood up, but it must have been too fast. Your head spun.

"Woah, easy there!" He grabbed your shoulders before you’d fallen, and you found yourself blinking up at his concerned face. You were too wobbly to trust yourself and just stayed there for a moment, half on the bench, half standing, with Bakugo supporting you. You felt like an utter twit. And you felt acutely aware of his proximity.

"Smooth huh?" You giggled weakly.

"It's okay, don't worry. It happens a lot. Even people who have had loads of tats still get cocky and overdo it”

He had strong hands. Big, and warm on your shoulders. You shook your head to clear it.

"You okay yet?" He still looked concerned. Fucking hell, you wished he wasn't touching you right now. Sure, he'd spent the last couple of hours touching you, but that was different. You were weirdly giddy. Like being slightly drunk, you thought. Your mouth ran away with you and you nodded toward the spanked girl on the wall, blurting out:

"One of yours?"

He withdrew, and looked sheepish. You eased yourself off the bench, standing on you’re own. Shaky, but standing.

"Ah. Ha.. Yeah. Yeah, that's mine”

He was rummaging in a cupboard behind the counter. You could see just a mop of spiky blonde hair, and then his eyes, as he rootled around.

"Don't normally do this but I reckon you could use it..."

He had found a small bottle of Jack and poured a slug into a disposable cup, passing it to you. With a shrug, he poured one for himself. You weren’t sure why – it wasn't like he'd got the shakes, was it? No, definitely not – his hands were as deft as ever as he covered the new tattoo, gently wiping away excess ink and blood, carefully wrapping your leg with clingfilm. You wished you were as steady.

You narrowed your eyes at Bakugo over the rim of the cup as you sipped gingerly.

"Don't give much away, do you?"

"Huh?" he was baffled.

"The… You know, the girl. So you distract me with hard liquor rather than risk me asking about her,"

Fucking hell, that'd be bravado from the whiskey, plus the close call from nearly hitting the floor. In a detached sort of way, you could imagine your sensible side looking down at your recklessness and sighing.

Bakugo bit his lip, which made something low down in your stomach twist, so you downed the rest of the booze because it seemed like a better alternative than staring at him. You’d almost forgotten the sting in your leg in favour of an ache - Yep, you thought, that kind of ache – in your nipples, and between your legs. So bloody typical, really... here you were, no makeup, ratty old jeans with one leg rolled up, socks with holes in, in front of an inexplicably attractive man who'd just spent a good couple of hours making you suffer.

You almost spat it straight back out again when you heard him say quietly "Yep... Gotta love giving a good spanking. Don't get the chance much these days, the girlfriend doesn't go in for it, but…”

Jesus, jesus, jesus. You didn't want to think about that. Didn't want to imagine being bent over his knee. Didn't want to imagine how the texture of his clothes would feel against your bare skin. Or what his hands would feel like. Oh fuck, big hands. Big, clever, rough hands. Bakugo must have seen how your skin flushed, how you licked your lips, because he stepped closer to you again. He took the plastic cup from you. You backed up, the small of your back bumping into the couch.

He followed. He was just an inch or two from you and you were sure he could see how your breathing had changed. You looked up at him.

"Shame," you murmured.

And Bakugo moved like lightning, his mouth crushing yours, one hand flying to the back of your head. You opened your mouth for him, and his tongue pushed, hard and insistent. You whimpered at the sensation of being so wanted, and he kissed you even harder than you thought possible, growling as he pushed one warm hand under your shirt, tugging roughly at the cup of your bra. He tasted of whiskey, with the slightest hint of cinnamon. His tongue was so hot it almost burned.

The couch banged up against the counter as he pushed you against it. His fingers found your nipple and twisted, hard. You squealed into his mouth and he laughed, pulling away just enough to catch a breath.

"Like that, is it? Thought so..."

You just looked at him, your swollen lips parted, breathing hard and fast. He held your gaze, his clear vermillion eyes unflinching. He was smiling, a small wry smile that spoke volumes. He knew what was happening just as well as you did.

You moved your own hands up, slowly, not daring to race. Twisted your fingers into the hair at the nape of his neck. Pulled him down again, and kissed him again. Slower, at first. This was the chance you’d given him – a moment to withdraw that he'd not taken. They both knew that they shouldn't have even been in the same room alone together, not really. But it was between the two of them, now. He hadn't run for the hills. Your blood sang with the thrill of realisation; he wanted you, right now. You moved your other hand up the side of his body, enjoying the warmth of him, but now you slipped it under the waist of his shirt, to feel his patterned skin. He groaned into your mouth and his tongue slipped deeper, taking over.

His hand fell to your jeans, pressing right there between your thighs, cupping you. The heel of Bakugo’s hand was hard against your clit through the thick denim and you were breathless. Jesus fucking christ on a bike... You dared to daydream, and here it was – a fantasy from your own faithless imagination. Your mind was spinning, so close to losing all reason and functioning on instinct alone. Fuck… The smell of him!

He tore at your t-shirt, dragging it over your head, and scrabbled at your bra. 99% of men you’d ever been with were useless with these things, you mused, and yet suddenly it was on the floor with your shirt. He unbuttoned your jeans and shoved them down, then caught himself mid-action, easing them over your sore leg gently. It put his head right next to your pussy, covered only by a pair of unsexily practical plain panties. He breathed in through his nose, his eyes closed... Then looked up at you with a downright mischievous look playing over his face.

"On the bench," he directed. You hopped up, your legs swinging like a small child. He'd found one of the low rolling stools, and sat down in front of you. He pushed your knees apart. A wet spot darkened your cotton panties, and you blushed despite herself. You weren't quite sure of his intentions until the blond brandished a pair of scissors at you – and you must have looked worried half to death, because he cocked one eyebrow: "Safe hands, come on..."

Before you knew it he'd snipped the underwear away. You were exposed completely.

He dipped his face towards your pussy and breathed you in again. You leaned back on the couch, supporting yourself up on one elbow, wanting to watch his face – but automatically closing your eyes in shocked bliss as that searing hot tongue licked you from bottom to top, spreading your lips apart, giving away just how wet you were.

"Fuck," you breathed. You were incoherent – now wasn't the time for intelligent conversation.

His thumbs held you, spread wide, and he lapped at your clit, drawing it into his mouth, nipping unbelievably gently with his teeth. You shuddered. You opened your eyes and saw him watching you, and he was smiling again. He dipped back down and this time his tongue pushed into you. Your back arched and you grabbed the back of his head, hissing at the extremity of the sensation.

You were disbelieving of it. You’d never known a man to do this... to eat pussy with such clear enjoyment. The sensation was amazing – the warmth of his breath, the smooth slickness of his tongue on your hot flesh, the scrape of his barely noticeable stubble on your thighs a harsh counterpoint.

You couldn't help but push yourself against his face, wanting more, murmuring words that didn't make any sense. You yelled out as he pushed a finger into you, teasing you, knowing exactly where to touch. He added another and you gasped. You could hear yourself! Christ, you were so soaking wet that as his hand moved, your cunt made obscene noises. Worse, you loved it. He lifted his face, still finger-fucking you with three fingers now, his thumb running over your clit.

"I think you needed this, didn't ya?"

You could only groan in agreement. Oh, you definitely did, but you sure as hell hadn't expected it. Bakugo laughed that quiet, knowing little laugh again and pinched your clit with one hand, while fingering you faster with the other. You squealed and your hips lifted, wriggling as you felt an orgasm building. You were amazed – it wasn't normally so easy to make you come – and you managed to gasp out a warning just before your whole body stiffened and shook.

He dragged his fingers from your pulsing cunt and strummed your clit hard, making you wail aloud as your pussy squirted hot liquid over the bench. He exclaimed, a mixture of surprise and delight, and pushed his fingers back into you more slowly now, dragging them over the swollen lips of your pussy, spreading your juice over his hand. Your head dropped back to the bench, your chest heaving. You were spaced out and stunned – you didn't think you’d ever cum that violently before.

"Holy fuck," you murmured, more to yourself than anything. Then you realised what a mess you’d made. "Sorry! Ah shit.. Dammit..." you sat up, about to scout around for paper to clean up. He laughed at you and grabbed your arm.

"No chance, babe," he smiled wickedly. "Get over here. Right now"

Bakugo helped you stand, shakily, and led you towards the chestnut-brown buttoned chesterfield sofa that waiting clients would normally loll on. You half tumbled onto the cushions and landed, naked, staring up at him. He flung his own shirt into a corner and tugged his jeans over his hips. You stared dumbly, drinking in the sight of his lean, inked torso. The patterns, words, pictures, life stories you supposed... they carried on downwards, over his hipbones, to meet the tattoos that ran up his legs.

His cock was rock-hard and he stroked it, not taking his eyes off you.

"Get on all fours," he said. You complied, your forearms resting on the arm of the sofa. He sat slowly behind you, running his hands over your ass, grabbing it and spreading you wide. He abruptly buried his face in your pussy, tongue diving inside. He came up for air and gasped, "Fucking hell, you taste so good..."

You felt him manouvre behind you, his hands still on your ass, his thumb occasionally drifting over the pucker of your hole, and then suddenly he was inside you. His cock slid into you smoothly, opening you up, stretching your cunt, and he kept on going until you were utterly full of dick. You squealed as his cockhead nudged your sensitive cervix. He withdrew achingly slowly, letting you get used to the sensation, and then rammed himself home hard and fast.

You felt his hand twist into your hair, tugging your head upwards, and arched your back. The pain of the pull on your scalp was exquisite, ebbing and flowing as he pounded you from behind.

"That's it, babe," he murmured. You could hear the smile in his voice. "Come on, lemme hear you”

You couldn't help yourself – you were squeaking in pain each time his dick slammed into you, but you adored it. You heard the smack of skin on skin as his hips met yours, and your cunt was making deliciously obscene wet sounds.

"Please," you gasped out. "Please, please, please..."

Bakugo didn't cease his movement, groaning in pleasure. "Ah... Please what? Do you want more? Fuck, your pussy's so damn tight round my cock... Don't ask me to stop now”

"No, not stop,". you could hardly get your words straight. "I want to see..."

"Oh!" He understood you breathless gabble, and pulled himself free of your tight hole. The air felt cool on your lips and you savoured it briefly, before he pulled your hips back and helped you lie back on the couch. You looked up, wanting to watch his expression as he pushed himself back inside you.

He did so slowly, his eyes closed, long lashes brushing his cheeks, his bottom lip caught between his teeth. You squeezed his cock, once, as hard as you could, using your pussy muscles to show him just how hard you could work it. His eyes flew open and it was his turn to cry out.

"Fuck, babe... Do that again and I won't last five minutes”

You met his gaze, and held it as he began to move, more slowly now. He bent forwards and sucked one of your nipples into his mouth, grazing it with his teeth – then released it and moved his mouth to yours, kissing you, opening you up with his tongue as he opened your cunt with his cock. You dared to tangle a hand in his hair, now, and moaned your need into his mouth.

He sat back, and pushed his thumb between your lips, wetting it, then dragged it over your clit, watching your face for a reaction. You tensed and a red flush began to creep over your chest. A faint smile played over his face and he moved faster, fucking you a little harder, massaging his thumb in circles around your stiff clit, flicking it hard and feeling your body respond.

Your eyes had drifted closed as you enjoyed the sensations, but he wasn't having that.

"Look at me," he said softly. "I want to watch your face when you cum for me”

Christ. Just those words were enough, but he sped up, moving faster and harder. You hadn't been fucked like this for a long, long time – with a lot of guys it was all over in minutes, but he was too damn good for that. His thumb pushed your clit against your pelvic bone and you screamed. Your entire body was rigid as you came, your cunt muscles bearing down hard, trying to force his cock out of you. He pushed hard and deep into you though, prolonging your agony, and true to his word he was watching your face, only pulling his cock out right at the last second – and you wailed, loud and unbelieving, as your orgasm peaked, your cunt walls squeezing tight, and again – again! At some level you marvelled – a rush of hot fluid soaked your thighs as you squirted.

You sagged backwards, breathing fast, and put an embarrassed hand to your mouth.

Bakugo tugged it away, gently, smiling wryly.

"Oh no. Not gonna have you feeling all self-conscious about that. That was... amazing”

And he slid himself inside you again. He was close to coming, so close, you could see it in the lines of tension on his face. It was your turn to encourage him.

"Come on then," you murmured. You cupped your tits with you hands, tweaking your nipples hard, offering him a target – you expected him to unload all over your chest, but he growled, grabbed your hips, and surged forwards. You looked him in the eye and was met with a piercing, almost animal stare as he roared with the release. You felt the heat of his cum deep inside, as he punctuated his final few thrusts with words.

"Holy… fucking… hell," he uttered between clenched teeth. He sat up, and swiped at a sheen of sweat on his forehead. A worried look flashed across his face and your own smile vanished – oh, god, now he'd realised what he'd done, hadn't he?

He leaned down and checked the dressing on your leg. Then raised an eyebrow at you.

"Don't look so worried, it's fine," he grinned. He unfolded himself from the sofa and started to dress, throwing your clothes over for you to do the same. It was weird, you thought, that you could expose your most private places to someone, do the filthiest things, and then only afterwards did you feel awkward.

Bakugo passed you a glass of water, which you gulped greedily at, still slightly out of breath and still slightly disbelieving. "I've… well, I have to... Get home, you know..." you blathered.

"It's okay," he said quietly. "Really. I'm not saying anything" He kissed you, softly, slow and sweet.

"Message me though, when you want to book in again. That leg piece will need a couple more hours work”

—

— 𝘒𝘰𝘪 𝘹𝘰

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makethemhoesmad · 1 month

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i could be better

nika muhl x reader

18+

shoutout to @lucespeaks bc she shared the nika deets

good luck

—

“where’s your boy-toy pretty thing?” i turn my head up from texting my now ex boyfriend and see an astonishingly familiar face. going to uconn, i would know nika muhl anywhere. “he left, didn’t like sitting here doing nothing and said he had better girls to fuck.” she rolls her eyes, slinking her arm around my waist and pulling me against her. “i don’t think i could think of a girl id rather fuck right now. wanna get out of here with me?” pressed up against her and feeling the way her body moves, there’s literally zero chance i would say no. “sure babe.”

you could ask me where nika lived and i would have no idea, because i do not remember a single detail about that car ride besides the exact designs of the tattoos on her hands. her fucking hands, which kept creeping along my inner thighs.

“come on, be a good girl for me and tell me what you want” i whimpered. as soon as nika has parked the car, she had me hustled into her apartment and against her wall. “pretty? it’s not gonna happen if you don’t tell me what you want to happen.” i huffed against her neck, gasping out “your mouth, please” she smirks, then shimmies my pants down my legs as she settles on her knees.

she grins up at me for a minute. “what?” i say, irritated. “i was going to tell you how pretty your pussy was, but i guess not, since you wanna have that attitude with me.” with no warning, she flattens her tongue against my core. my legs buckle as a wave of pleasure courses through me. she briefly pulls away to place three of her fingers in her mouth. i whine needily, but am cut off by both her tongue against me and her fingers slamming into me.

“so wet for me, i’m sure you were never this wet for that boyfriend of yours”

“ex boyfriend” i gasp out, trying not to fall to the ground.

she sucks on my clit, hard. that’s what it takes for me to tumble over the edge. she holds my hips still as i climax, then pushes me down to my knees as she stands up.

“go ahead and return the favor darling.”

i pull her shorts away, then tongue at her clit. she doesn’t make any noise, but i hear her breathe in sharply, which i take as a good sign. she grinds into my face, then climaxes on my tongue.

“you planning on staying here, or do i need to drive you home?” ha. like i could walk right now.

“as long as your okay, ill stay here”

she helps me up, holding my hips so i can make it to what i assume to be her room. the bed is made, but she easily slips under the covers and pulls me in. she tucks her face into my neck, pressing kisses there. i’m about to fall asleep, when nika pulls her face away and asks, “did your ex fuck you like that baby?” i turn away, embarrassed by what the answer would be. “cmon, you can tell me.” i take a breath. “he didn’t like eating me out. he told me he didn’t believe in orally pleasing women.” her eyes widen in shock as she pulls me impossibly closer to her. “if you were mine, i would eat your pussy any time i could, lovely” i feel my stomach flutter. i wrap my legs around her and cuddle in, sleeping warmer and more loved than i ever felt with him. maybe she could be better.

#nika muhl x reader #nika muhl

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ikeromantic · 1 month

Text

Ikesen Boys React to a Tattooed MC pt 2

Thank you again to @otomedad for this idea!

Kenshin, Shingen, and Yoshimoto. Approx. 2400 words. Part 1 here!

Kenshin

Kenshin froze mid-step, his mismatched eyes going wide. You froze too, a shout of surprise caught behind your lips. Your kimono hung open, half undressed as you prepared for a bath.

The tub of steaming water sat behind a decorative screen, and you were wishing you were behind it too. “Umm. Hi?” You tug the fabric closed, your face hot.

He swallows, and turns his head to look down the empty corridor leading to your ‘room’. “You were not expecting me. I will go.”

“No, wait!” Your voice startles you as much as him. Kenshin turns his head to glance your direction expectantly. You pause, unsure what to say. “I was hoping you would come today.”

If anything, this seems to surprise him even more than seeing you unclothed.

“If you like, you can wait with me for the bathwater to cool down. It’s too hot to soak in right now.” You sit down on the small stool beside the bars of your well-appointed cell.

Kenshin says nothing for a long moment, then he nods. There is something unsettled about him as he pulls up a stool to sit across from you. “Is there anything you need?”

You shrug, glancing around at the stone walls and wooden bars. “Out? Other than that, no.”

He looks down, his lips twisting in a faint grimace. The frown turns to puzzlement. “What is that?”

You realize he’s noticed the cherry blossom petal on the top of your bare foot. “Oh. It’s part of my tattoo.” You carefully shift your kimono open a little bit to show the rest of your leg. Cherry blossoms and pink petals dance across your skin, as if floating on a forever breeze in some place where it is always spring.

Kenshin regards the ink with more curiosity than you expected. His hand drifts toward the bars that separate you. “Beautiful,” he breathes.

Your skin prickles and warms with expectation of his touch. The tip of his cool, calloused finger brushes your calf, setting your heart off at a gallop. You aren’t sure if the butterflies in your belly are from the compliment or the feel of his hand on your leg.

“It does not come off,” he states, rather than asks.

“Right. It’s ink under my skin so . . . I guess I’m stuck with it for life.” You try for a carefree smile, but miss the mark as his eyes flick up to meet yours.

Kenshin considers this for a moment, then nods. “It is like a scar, then.” His eyes narrow. “Why was this done to you?”

You do smile then, at the protective note in his voice. “I did it to me. Or, at least, I picked the design and the spot. I wanted something to remind me that life is short. To enjoy the beauty in it, as long as it lasts. Because, you know. It won’t last long.”

His fingers trace the edges of the petals and blossoms, moving up past your knee to the top of the flowers on your thigh. “The inevitability of loss,” he says, more to himself than to you. There is something warm in his eyes, something fragile.

“No,” you shake your head. “The celebration of beauty, however fleeting. Take joy where you can, right?”

“Take joy . . .” His gaze falls back to your leg, and he snatches his hand away as if suddenly scalded by your skin. Shutters of ice close him off from you again as he stands.

You stand as well, reaching for him through the cell bars. Your fingers brush his shoulder before he steps back.

“If there is nothing you need, I will go.”

“I do need something.” Your voice shakes a little as your hand drops to your side. “I wish you’d visit me more often. Stay for a little longer when you do. I like being around you.”

Kenshin does not reply. He studies you for a moment, before turning away. His steps echo down the empty corridor, making you feel somehow even more alone than before he came.

Shingen

Shingen’s hand trailed along the smooth silk of your kimono, the warmth of his touch soaking through to your back. He wasn’t technically supposed to be touching you, just watching the stars. But he had a hard time keeping his hands to himself, and you weren’t going to complain. Not tonight, anyway.

“Are you sore, angel,” he asked, glancing at you from the corner of his eye.

“No,” you shot back, then admitted, “a little.” The day’s hike through mountainous forest hadn’t been easy, especially carrying a pack. You regretted insisting on carrying it, but pride wouldn’t let you take it easy.

Shingen’s lips curled up in a subtle smile. “I see.” His hand stilled on your back. “You know what the best thing for sore muscles is?”

You turn your head to regard him, sensing a trap. “A hot bath?”

“Those are pretty good. But love is what makes the angel sing.” He grins at you, playful and teasing.

“Seriously, Shingen?” You huff and pull away from his touch.

He sighs. “Can’t blame a guy for trying. It’s not every day an actual goddess graces me with her presence.”

You glare at him, annoyed and flattered and annoyed with yourself for being flattered. “Whatever. I’m going inside.”

“Don’t leave, angel.” There’s a slight pleading tone to his voice. “As an apology, let me give you a shoulder rub. It will make us both feel better. I promise.” The sensual tilt of his lips and the appeal in his gaze give you pause. A massage would feel nice, but . . .

“No. I don’t trust you.” The words leave your mouth in a rushed exhalation, leaving so much unsaid. It wasn’t Shingen you didn’t trust, it was yourself.

He looked down, his eyes dark and unreadable in the dim starlight. “I promise, I’m not trying to make you mine.” Shingen held his hands out as if in surrender. “Let me help?”

The silence between you expands, an almost physical thing pressing against your skin and making it hard to breathe. You give a curt nod, giving in to what you know you want, even if you can’t admit it.

Shingen settles behind you. His hands slide down your shoulders, gently tugging your kimono down to bare them. His breath catches and he goes still.

For a moment, you are confused, and then you realize he must have seen it. Your tattoo. Maple leaves drifting along your spine, from just below your neck to your hip. A riot of warm colors and fine lines etching your skin. You still remember the pain of having it done. But it was worth it. “Something wrong?” You try for a teasing tone, but your voice is too breathy to make that mark.

“Your back -” He pulls your kimono lower still, revealing more of the falling leaves. His calloused hand presses against the ink as if to wipe it away. “My angel is a work of art.”

A shiver runs through your skin at the feel of his hand on you. Your galloping heart speeds even more, racing uncontrollably as heat flushes your face. “You’re not supposed to be flirting,” you manage.

Shingen’s laugh sends a puff of warm breath across your neck. “That wasn’t flirting. I’m only stating the obvious.” His thumbs press into your tense, tired flesh, a gentle pressure to ease sore muscles. “Is the art something from your village? I have never seen anything like it painted into skin.”

You struggle for a moment to find words, distracted by his closeness and the intimacy of his touch. He clearly knows how to give a massage, and the sensation is short circuiting your brain. “Umm. It . . . mmmm . . . I got it to remind myself.”

“Of?” His lips are distressingly close to the leaf at the top of your spine, almost brushing the inked skin.

“Th-that I am carried. Forward. Even when life is tough. Like a leaf in the wind. Do what I can and leave what I can’t to fate. Or god. Or . . . chaos, I guess. Trust that life is - is pushing me to where I need to be.” You stutter through an explanation, leaving out all the context and emotion surrounding the decision on this image in this spot in those colors.

Shingen is quiet for a while, his skilled hands working out the knots in your shoulders and upper back. “My angel is a philosopher. Something holding us up in our worst moments.” He sounds more thoughtful than you expected when he finally speaks. Rather than blowing off the meaning of the design, he seems interested.

“I needed something to hang on to,” you say softly, self-consciously. His praise feels undeserved, but makes your heart feel full, your chest tight.

“We all do, sometimes.” You feel the press of a gentle kiss to the back of your neck.

Quiet descends between you again, a soft silence of connection and comfort.

Yoshimoto

You sit completely still, afraid to even breathe deeply. Yoshimoto’s fingers comb gently through your hair, coaxing it into position. He hums a tune you almost recognize as he works, styling you for the artists that will arrive soon.

“Are you sure this is a good idea? I bet there are a lot of more qualified models in Kasugayama,” you say through stiff lips. This whole idea has you on edge. Art is wonderful, and you love making it - but being in it? Not so much.

Yoshimoto adjusts your necklace. “You are perfect. There is none more qualified.” He steps back, inspecting his work.

“I am so very not perfect,” you argue, thinking of all the parts of yourself you’d change if you could. “Surely Okuni would be better -”

“No. I want them to paint you.” The way he says it sends a thrill through you, as if he would value more your image than any other. Which can’t be true. Yoshimoto is just an appreciator of art. And you, as his friend and student, happened to be available for this painting session with some up and coming artists.

You take a shallow breath. The next part will be the hardest, even knowing it is coming. “Fine. I guess.” The blanket in your lap seems smaller by the moment and you feel heat rising in your cheeks as you take it in one hand.

Yoshimoto smiles and moves close again, his fingers hover at the edge of the decorative kimono draped over your shoulders. “I am honored by your trust in me.”

“Wait!” You take a deeper breath, a panicky feeling welling up in your chest. “I can’t model. I - I have a tattoo!” You feel a sudden certainty that, just like your parents, Yoshimoto will hate the ink on your skin, and the artists will refuse to paint you, and - and -

He settles a hand on your cheek, turning your head toward him. “Thank you for telling me. May I see it?” His eyes are wide and clear, empty of judgment or censure.

You study his face a moment longer, feeling self conscious. “Ok.”

He pulls the fabric down as you lift the blanket to your chest. Almost the pose you were meant to take for the artists.

Despite the white silk now covering your breasts, you feel exposed. Your entire back on display, bare shouldered and covered with almost nothing from the back of your neck to the top of your butt cheeks. Vulnerable. On display. You wait for Yoshimoto to say something, but he is silent.

“Well?” Your voice is sharp and anxious, and you resist the urge to tug the fabric up and hide behind it.

Yoshimoto takes a breath. His hands brush your sides, stopping at the edges of your tattoo. Chrysanthemums spread from the center of your back to your hips, delicate and colorful. He kneels to look at them more closely, close enough that his hair tickles against your skin.

You love the way they look, bright and playful. Accentuating the natural curves of your low back and hip. But you can’t tell what his reaction is. His quiet only wrenches your nerves tighter. “If you don’t say something, I think I’m going to cry.”

His soft touch brushes the inked flowers, as if painting the petals with his fingertips. “I . . . I did not expect . . .”

“It’s fine.” You reach for the kimono, ready to cover up and escape with a little dignity.

Yoshimoto’s hand catches yours. “Please. Let me look a little longer. It is beautiful.” His gaze meets yours, fey eyes almost aglow. “You are beautiful.”

Your breath catches, there is a tightness in your chest. A trembling, uncertain emotion that you cannot name. “Alright.”

His smile is tender and affectionate as his eyes drift back to your tattoo. “These colors are amazing. I have never seen such bright irezumi. And the way it follows the shape of your body -” His caress sends a pleasant shock up your back and sets your pulse pounding. “This was done by a master artist. Only fitting for such a canvas.”

“They were really good,” you nod, recalling the waitlist and the cost. “They designed it for me after I told them what I wanted. Something with meaning, memories and promises. I wanted to look at it the rest of my life and know it holds what is close to my heart.”

You gesture toward the flowers he is touching. “Red for the promise of love, yellow for what I’ve lost, white for loyalty. And all of it together for beauty, inside and out.” The words pour out as if from a broken dam. You’ve never told anyone all of this, never had the opportunity or the trust. But you want Yoshimoto to know you. To understand you.

“Did you know it is also a symbol of royalty?” His voice is soft, barely audible.

“I do. Not that I am. Royal. I mean, Nobunaga made me a princess but I’m just a normal person. Nothing special.” You shrug. “I just thought it was a really pretty flower.”

Yoshimoto’s arms wrap around you, and his cheek rests against your back. You feel the flutter of his eyelids as he closes them. “You are special. Talented and beautiful and kind. I can think of no other more deserving of such a mark.”

Bittersweet pleasure floods you. There is nothing you can say to that, and so you let yourself enjoy his embrace. The feel of him pressed close. If only it could last. If only you could speak the words that lie heavy in your heart. If, if, if.

#ikemen sengoku #ikesen #ikesen kenshin #ikesen shingen #ikesen yoshimoto #fanfiction #otome #fanfic #otome guys #fluff

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mykneeshurt · 9 months

Text

Absolution

Image from wallpaper flare

Priest! Simon Riley x F! reader AU

Warnings - 18+, minors DNI, explicit smut, religious themes, if you're interested in going to heaven this ain't the fic for you, this is incredibly blasphemous so if your easily offended by religious themes being used DNI

100% inspired by @dotcie - you let all your love rot inside you

Thank you to @luminousbeings-crudematter for encouraging this and helping me with multiple ideas and beta reading it for me!

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The church was dark, the late evening sun shone through the stained-glass window above the altar. Hues of blue, red, green and purple descended into the empty church. Candles lined the walls, each mounted by a gold baroque style holder. The flames flickered as the warm summer air kissed them gently. Stone arches adorned the walls, each one intricately designed with faces of angels and demons. You walked along the aisle touching each of the pews with your fingertips, the wood was stained a deep walnut colour. Each seat perfectly imperfect, littered with the scars of the congregation who graced their presence.

Your eyes roamed along the paintings of different bible passages, all hung delicately along the sandstone walls. Each painting an abyss of pain and torment, each brush stroke a testament to the sheer emotion the artist must have felt.    As you reached the altar you once again questioned why you were here. You sunk to your knees seeking sanctuary, the maroon carpet offering some comfort to your aching joints. The weight of what you’d done pressed heavily on your heart. So much so silent tears fell, staining the carpet beneath you.    ‘Are you ok?’ A voice from behind you asked, it was gentle and calm. Gasping you spun around, stood before was a shadow of a man. He was tall, his broad physique clearly visible through the shadows. ‘Oh! I’m so sorry I didn’t know anyone else was here’ you stammered, your breath catching in your chest.    He stepped forward out of the shadows and into the light. As the sun rays illuminated him before you his divine beauty was slowly revealed. His jaw was sharp, his lips plump and soft with a small scar cutting through them. His hair was a sandy colour which was swept away from his face, bar a few strands which hung lazily on his forehead. He wore all black, his sleeves rolled up revealing a tattoo on his forearm.    You stayed kneeling, feeling unable to move, unable speak. He stood before you extending his hand to cup your chin, his touch was merciful, soft, all consuming. Slowly he caressed your cheek, his thumb wiping away the solitary tear that stained your skin. His gaze pierced through you, eyes dark and possessive, a foreboding presence lurking in the void.    ‘Tell me what’s bothering you?’ He asked, voice calm but thicker than molasses. You tried to find the words, tried to articulate the feelings deep within you, but the words wouldn’t come. ‘Use your words’ he cooed, still cupping your jaw. All moisture suddenly evaporated from your mouth as you opened your lips to speak. ‘I … I did something bad’ you stammered.    ‘Is it forgiveness you seek?’  ‘Yes Father’ your voice all but a whisper, yet still echoing in the empty church. He hummed to himself, dropping his gaze to your lips. ‘Stay’ he ordered as he removed his hand, a silent whimper falling from your lips as your cheek cooled from his touch.    He walked to the alter and despite his muscular stature he moved almost silently. Like a ghost. As he turned back to you, he held the Ciborium in his hands, the emerald colour contrasting perfectly against his porcelain skin. Towering over you he pulled the host from the cup ‘I have a passage I’d like you to read, but first, take the body of Christ.’    Holding out your hand you waited for him to place it in your hands, except he didn’t. ‘Open’ he said forcefully. Lowering your hand, you opened your mouth sticking out your tongue. A small smirk tugged at your lips as he placed the thin wafer onto it. The host slowly dissolved on the heat of your tongue, as did any remaining sanity. He pulled your lower lip with his thumb ‘good.’    He motioned for you to follow him to the lectern, a black bible with gold rimmed pages sat unassumingly on the shelf. Placing you in front of him he bent you over slightly, your body completely pliable in his hands. He gently skimmed the pages with his fingers, the tattoo now fully visible. Veins kissed the surface of his skin as the defined muscles danced with every movement.

Finally he stopped on the page he was looking for: Proverbs 28:13. His face was dangerously close to yours, so much so you could see the texture of his skin. A small amount of stubble littered his skin as his breath fanned over your neck. Lowering his lips to your ear he whispered ‘read, and no matter what don’t stop.’ His words vibrated down your spine straight to your aching pussy, taking a deep breath you began to read

‘Whoever conceals their sins …' his hand slipped to your lower back, but his eyes were fixed firmly on the text in front of you.

Gulping you tried to continue ‘... does not prosper …' his fingers grazed the back of your thighs, causing you to buck your hips slightly.

‘... but the one who confesses …' a whine exuded from the back of your throat, guttural and desperate. ‘Shhh, keep going’ he whispered in your ear. Swallowing hard you tried again.

‘… and renounces them …’ his fingers slipped past the hem of your panties, the sudden contact made you jump, you bit your lip trying to stifle a moan. ‘Good girl, keep going.’ ‘ … finds mercy.’ As the last word slipped past your lips, he sunk his finger into your wet cunt causing you to lurch forward onto the lectern, gripping the sides for balance. ‘Read it again’ he ordered. Taking a deep breath, you did as you were told, sounding out each word, each syllable laced with desire and pleasure. He slowly added another finger, stretching your pussy with his girth. Your whine rang out in the desolate church, ricocheting off the sandstone walls as he pumped his fingers. He pressed his thumb against your clit, once wet with your tears it was now wet with your arousal.

Soon enough you were tripping over your words, a stuttering mess under his touch. With his free hand he wrapped it around your throat pulling you close to him, his fingers still orchestrating a flurry of moans from you. You were completely lost in him, your jaw slack as whimpers and gasps seeped from your very soul. You were so lost in fact you didn’t even realise he’d manoeuvred you towards the altar, the cool granite kissed your skin as he pressed you against it.

Removing his fingers, he placed them on his tongue savouring your arousal, his gaze once again found yours ‘fuckin sinful’ he growled. Using his muscular arms, he trapped you against the altar the warmth of his skin seeping into yours like a virus. Reaching behind you he grabbed the gold chalice and took a sip of the wine, never once breaking eye contact with you. Gripping your chin, he tilted it, so you were looking directly up at him, slowly he placed his lips against yours allowing the wine to trickle into your mouth. A single drop trickled down your neck, his tongue was soon pressed against your skin lapping it up.

You pulled him by his shirt collar into another kiss, it was velocious and messy. He gripped at your thighs pulling you up onto the altar, tilting you backwards the wine fell causing the once pristine white cotton to turn red with your sins. He nipped at your collar bone as he raked his nails along your skin, moaning into his mouth it was too much but not enough all the same time. He kissed along your torso and onto your abdomen, his lips teased the sliver of skin which poked out between your top and skirt. Goosebumps trickled along your skin as he bit the sensitive skin.

Pulling at his hair you silently begged him to continue, silently pleading with him to taste you. Keeping his eyes on yours he lifted your leg onto his shoulder, he ripped your panties at the seam and placed his lips onto your weeping cunt. The sudden intrusion caused you to arch your back and moan into oblivion. His eyes pierced yours as he moved his tongue in languid motions, each swipe pulling another whimper from your chest. You gripped his hair digging your nails into his scalp, God rays cascaded around you encapsulating you both in this moment of pure sin. As the priest looked up you could have sworn it was Lucifer himself staring right back at you.

‘Fuck … don’t stop’ you whined, finally finding words to use, finally finding your voice. Kissing his way back up your body he hovered over you for a moment, his stare intense and dominating. ‘Simon’ he muttered. You hummed, not quite catching what he said. ‘My name … Simon’ he repeated, edging closer to your lips once more. Pulling your lips open he allowed a dribble of saliva to drop into your mouth, instinctively you swallowed allowing the ribbon of spilt to glide down your throat.

‘Please fuck me Simon’ you said as you placed your lips on his once more. Pulling away he unbuckled his trousers allowing his cock to spring free. Still staring at you intently he began to pump his hard cock ‘allow me this and I shall absolve you of all your sins.’ You could hear how breathless he was behind his stoic demeanour, a man on the edge of losing control.

‘Yes Father, please.’

Slowly he pushed into you, once again stretching your cunt, the sting was delicious. You both gasped as he filled you to the brim, bottoming out in one swift motion. He placed his forearms next to your head as strands of hair fell forward framing his face perfectly. The sun had moved slightly causing the coloured glass to reflect onto your bodies as you became one. He kissed you again, except this time you bit his lip causing it to bleed, ‘hmm, the blood of Christ’ you said smirking. Lowering his head to your neck he smiled into your skin ‘Amen.’

He began to move his hips back and forth, caressing the sweet spot within you. The sound of skin on skin reverberated in the church, filling the once silent, once holy place with the sin of lust. Placing his hand around your throat he hissed through his teeth ‘beg me for forgiveness, for I will be your absolution.’ Tears stung the corners of your eyes as he fucked you on the altar, each thrust took you to a new level of pleasure. You ran your nails along his shirt, desperately trying to imagine what his skin felt like. ‘Please, forgive me’ you whined as you rolled your hips into him ‘please father … please.’

Upping his pace, he held onto your hips as he dug his fingertips into your flesh. Small grunts and breathless whimpers filled the space between you as he allowed himself to give into his primal desires. Rolling his hips, he dragged his cock against your cunt making you feel every movement, every thrust, every inch of him. Pulling your hand off his back he placed it on your clit ‘show me’ he murmured ‘show me how you like it.’ Feeling yourself instantly tighten you began to play with your clit, you watched as he dropped his eyes to watch the show you were putting on for him, his mouth opening slightly before biting his lip.

Your breath began to catch in your throat as you felt yourself on the brink of orgasm, as your eyes rolled you caught sight of Mary looking down on you, watching you getting fucked within an inch of your life on the once pure altar. Wrapping your legs around him you pulled him closer, not wanting to let him go. ‘Faster’ you begged, ‘harder Father please.’ He let out a slight chuckle of disbelief, once again placing his hand around your throat ‘you’re insatiable.’ Biting your lip you giggled, but that giggle was soon replaced with a broken guttural moan as he slammed his hips into yours. This was enough to push you into the blinding light of your orgasm, your back arched off the wine-stained cloth as you came around his cock. Shockwaves of pleasure shot through every fiber of your body as rode out your high.

As the white noise from your orgasm finally dissipated your eyes met with his, his gaze was piercing, all knowing and consuming. His pace became sloppy, knowing he was close you sat up and pushed him away. Turning him round so his back was now against the altar you dropped to your knees, staring up at him like you did mere moments ago. You placed his cock on your tongue as the sweet bitterness of your combined arousal seeped over your tongue, ready to receive him. He looked down on you blocking out the sun, the light giving the illusion of a halo around him, but you knew when you were looking the devil in the face.

Slowly you took his cock to the back of your throat, the change in sensation causing him to throw his head back and hiss. He cradled the back of your head as you bobbed back and forth, humming a hymn softly to yourself, praising the man before you. The humming caused vibrations to travel down his thick cock adding a whole new layer of pleasure to this already wicked act. He became breathless as you worked his cock in your mouth, you could feel the change in him as you dragged your tongue along his shaft. ‘Yes’, he whispered softly, repeating it like a prayer. Looking up at him you pleased with him to let go, to finish what he’d started.

And that he did. You kept looking up at him as he came in your mouth, doe like eyes eager to please the man in front of you. His mouth was parted slightly as ragged breaths fell from his lips; he caressed your jaw as you swallowed. His touch just as soft and possessive as before.

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LMAO see you in hell x

@cowyolks @strlingsav @ave661 @glitterypirateduck @soapyghost

#call of duty #simon ghost riley #ghost x you #ghost x reader #simon riley #fan fic smut #simon riley au #simon riley smut #ghost simon riley #simon ghost riley #simon riley x you #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x reader #alternate universe #ghost cod smut

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my-love-is-sunlight · 3 months

Text

Inked

Portgas D. Ace x reader

Warnings: fem reader in mind, just a cute quick fluff thing I whipped out, stablished relationship

Word count: 1k

Summary: In which Ace gets a new special tattoo

˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

“I want another tattoo” Ace said breaking the comfortable silence that lulled both of you in your room, eyes looking down at your relaxed features that rested on his chest, quickly changing after he spoke up, brows jumping in surprise

“Really?” You looked up excitement in your tone “What you wanna get?”

“Don’t know…”

When you first met Ace, he had strike you as unpredictable and careless, but after been dating him for so long and knowing him for even longer, you realized that in reality everything he did he did with purpose and drive, so you weren’t expecting hearing him say he ‘didn’t know’ what he wanted inked into his body forever, specially considering the other two tattoos already on him carried so much meaning

He did know, he just didn’t wanted to tell you. His gaze escaped yours as you got up to question him

“What you mean you don’t know?”

He pouted and moved his shoulders up trying to look as nonchalant as he could

“Just a thought”

He also wasn’t the kind of man to say something just because, but you allowed him feel mysterious as you laid back on top of him humming suspiciously and rolling your eyes

And of course you were right, Ace knew exactly what he wanted, but keeping it a surprise for you was proving to be quite difficult since you were the first person he would always run up to to share his goals, thoughts and plans, so just slightly suggesting what he was going to do would bring him a little peace of mind.

For his surprise you had seemed to brushed off his comment about the tattoo quite fast, you probably thought he was teasing you knowing damn well you loved his tattoos and bringing the idea of another one excited you

Surprisingly you also didn’t notice his little scheme he was running while trying to come up with the tattoo design, he would take every opportunity when you were busy working around the ship to run to Marcos office both of them tracing over and over Aces idea, hands smeared and papers all around the desk

“He can’t just leave!”

But of course Ace didn’t planned everything trough, when it was time the get the tattoo, he had to sail and be gone away from a considerable amount of time and of course you’ll notice, he just asked Marco to make up an excuse but you were not having it

“It was an emergency I’m telling you!” Marco was really considering if his friendship with Ace was worth having to fight you, also a really good friend of his and making you this mad

“Then why didn’t I knew anything about this? And he never leaves without saying goodbye” you sounded both angry and hurt, feeling forgotten and left behind by the person you loved the most. Marco tried to console you by making up more lies, you gave up trying to figure out what had happened and just walked to your room thinking he may had just really forgotten you before leaving

After the longest 2 hours of your life passed by, you finally heard your boyfriends voice calling your name outside the door and had to physically restrain yourself from jumping out of bed, instead you just rolled facing backwards to the door which opened wide open. You didn’t turn but were met with Ace launching his whole body to the mattress crushing you completely

“Hello beautiful” After receiving no answer he looked at you, you looked mad?

“Don’t you beautiful me Ace, where the hell were you?”

“You know, doing stuff here and there…” his playful tone irritated you

“Oh really? Thought you had this crazy emergency, good to know you were just having fun” you answered coldly and crossing your arms in front of your chest

“Emergency?…” his answer made you clench your teeth and hide your face in your pillow. It took Ace a good while to connect the dots and realize what was happening, he sat upright a little embarrassed

“That’s what the stupid parrot told you?” the stupid parrot being Marco trying to help him lie his butt off He giggled before trying to stop you from hiding your face, tears threatening to pour out of your eyes as he held you

“I was gone getting this done”

Ace stretched his left arm out and held his wrist up to your face, too close in excitement that you had to back it up a little to see what he was talking about

A beautiful tattoo of two feminine realistic eyes framed in a long rectangle with a thin soft line sat on his skin

“Are those…” you examined even closer

“Your eyes!” Ace beamed a smile at you proudly as your eyes adverted from the tattoo and then at him absolutely shooked

New tears formed behind the old ones but now instead of angry tears they were happy ones. Never in your life someone had ever done something as flattering and meaningful for you. You pushed Ace making him fall on his back on the mattress, he had you all worried for him to come here and do something so beautiful

“You’re so stupid” you laughed and wiped away your tears making him sigh in relief

“It was very difficult to keep this a surprise from you” Ace was shinning, radiating joy from his big gesture and knowing he had made you feel important, because after all you were the most precious thing in his life

You held his wrist again admiring the piece, not only was it detailed but you could tell right away they were your eyes

“How did you-“

“Me and Marco traced your wanted poster like a million times over until it was perfect”

“You should go and apologize to him, I fought him for like 10 mins trying to figure out where you were” You said before smiling fondly, overwhelmed with this amazing gesture

“Yeah I should but he can wait” Ace jumped up carefully wrapping his arms around you before falling on the mattress again

“Do you like it?” Of course you did but he wanted to hear you say it, even though what he had done was something he couldn’t back off of, he still chased your approval and reassurance

“I love it”

While looking at his wrist again Ace couldn’t help but smile ear to ear, happy to have the most beautiful pair of eyes plastered on his skin forever, to always remember and keep you with no matter where he was

“Good cause’ it’s there forever”

˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

I just got a new tattoo and had this idea, hope you enjoyed and feel free to request and correct me English is not my first language

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spidey-x-male-reader · 11 months

Note

Hey, I saw that the requests were open and wanted to ask one for atsv if thats ok~

I saw the ftm reader so maybe the reader asking for a tatto, maybe a stick and poke for his chest after op from Hobbie, leaving the design to him as he really likes the things hobbie does or customize~? it could be fluff angst anything, just some ideas~

Pairing: Hobie Brown (Spider-Punk) x trans male!reader

Requested: yes / no

Warnings: mention of top surgery and needles

A/N: cue me taking way too long to write this because I started reading a tutorial on stick and poke tattoos and got distracted. oops

REQUESTS ARE OPEN

MASTERLIST

The sharp sting of the needle against your skin made you hiss quietly in pain. Hobie, your caring and talented boyfriend, glanced up from his work, dipping the needle into ink, concern etched on his face. "You okay, love?" he asked, his voice filled with genuine worry.

You mustered a smile and replied, "I'm fine. It just hurts a little, that's all."

Hobie's eyes searched yours, his expression still tinged with concern. "Are you sure you want to go through with this? You just had surgery. It wouldn't be a surprise if you wanted to take a break before getting a tattoo."

You shook your head determinedly. "No, Hobie. You know how much I've wanted this for years. Finally having a chest tattoo means a lot to me, and I want it."

He sighed, but a smile played at the corners of his lips. "And you're absolutely sure you want me to do it?"

"Absolutely sure," you affirmed, your voice filled with confidence and love as you gazed at your boyfriend.

He hesitated for a moment, his eyes locked with yours. "And you're sure you want me to choose the design? I mean, you've waited so long. I wouldn't want you to end up not liking it."

A mischievous grin spread across your face. "Since when are you so hesitant, Hobie? That's not the guy I know."

"I just want to make sure you'll be happy with it. This is important to you," he replied, his voice tinged with uncertainty. Slowly, he started to lightly pinch the needle into your skin. "But don't worry. I'll make sure you'll love it."

You couldn't help but giggle. "As if I could ever not love anything you create. You're such a softie sometimes."

Hobie chuckled, shaking his head. He continued with the stick and poke tattoo, humming a soft melody to himself. Every now and then, you tried to steal a glance down at your chest to catch a glimpse of the tattoo design.

"You wanted it to be a surprise, remember?" he teased, his chuckle filled with warmth. "So, keep your eyes on me, love. I'm almost done."

Time seemed to stretch longer than you had anticipated, but eventually, Hobie sighed with satisfaction and leaned back, carefully putting the needle away. He stood up, moving to hand you a mirror. "Well, what do you think?"

With a grin spreading across your face, you met his eyes and instantly recognized the design. "A spider, huh?"

Hobie's grin widened. "You like it?" he asked eagerly. "I thought it would be a unique reminder of your incredible boyfriend."

You playfully punched his shoulder. "You're such an asshole," you said, but he quickly grabbed your hand, pulling you closer.

"Don't say that now, love," he smirked. "Seriously, do you like it?"

Your eyes softened, and you couldn't hide the affection in your voice. "...I love it."

A satisfied smirk crossed Hobie's face as he pulled you into a deep, passionate kiss.

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bastardblvd · 1 year

Text

submitted entries for the slimeball alley on bastard boulevard collab event. please be mindful of content warnings and boundaries set by authors. want to join? read our guidelines here.

KEY: 🦠 = NSFW ⚠️ = DARK CONTENT

"DOUBLE DOWN" by @ryndicate 🦠 ⚠️

fem reader x slimeball!hirofumi yoshida, reader x stepbro!denji

"didn't know you were into that kinda stuff."

"SAFETY FIRST" by @strawberrystepmom 🦠

fem restaurant manager!reader x fake OSHA inspector!jiraiya

when an inspector unexpectedly comes to your restaurant, you figure out how to get yourself out of trouble.

"A RIDE FOR A RIDE" by @thus-spoke-lo 🦠

afab reader x taxi driver!zoro

it's 3am and walking home from your shitty job at the diner seems like a drag, so you call a cab, hoping for a quick trip back to your apartment so you can finally catch some sleep. your moss-haired, muscle-bound, directionally-challenged cabbie definitely gives you a ride you didn't expect.

"COMPLIMENTS TO THE CHEF" by @thus-spoke-lo 🦠

afab reader x slimeball line cook!sanji

a few nights pass after the sordid events of "a ride for a ride", and you're working another late night shift at franky's flapjack shack with sanji, that damned pervert cook. sanji manages to piss off your only remaining customer for the night, leaving the two of you alone in the restaurant. soon, things start to heat up in the kitchen--and not just because that one oven door won't close all the way.

"TITS FOR TAT" by @bloompompom 🦠

sorority girl!reader x tattoo artist!eren jaeger

"i hope you have a good idea about how you're going to pay for that tattoo..."

"DELIRIOUS" by @saccharine-darlin🦠 ⚠️

fem camgirl!reader x slimy sex shop owner!gojo x sex shop employee!getou

"your conservative town is something you've never thought that would let a sex shop pop up, it seemed too good to be true, and little did you know after the first time you visited you'd be caught in a web by the two perverted men who run it and quickly you learn that they always get what they want."

“PAY UP!” by @zeninsama 🦠

fem babysitter!reader x designer sunglasses model!gojo satoru

satoru's poor time management has you working overtime, and this cheap bastard has something other than cash to pay you with

"GOD BLESS ME, IT'S SUMMER" by @dolcezzzza 🦠

afab reader x slimeball ice cream truck driver!nicholas d. wolfwood

"open up."

"TRIPLE STRIKE XXX" by @em-plosion 🦠

new employee!reader x bowling alley owner!satoru gojo

"the animated neon signs glowed brightly against the wet pavement and the ‘help wanted’ flier in your hand. having to move to this hell hole of a town was bad enough but trying to find a job in it was worse, at this point this shitty bowling alley seemed to be the best option."

"HANDS TO YOURSELF" by @agirlwithapen 🦠 ⚠️

reader x dirty old man!kishibe

you’d purposely chosen the early morning transit. today was a big day, you see. you were interviewing for a position your friend had offered. it was your chance at stability, financial stability. “first impressions count.” you remember telling your soon-to-be boss over email. they do.

"CAN I HAVE A NUMBER 5?" by @gunfiendbabymama

yuuta okkotsu vs. aki hayakawa

the mcnuggets showdown.

“HONEY TRAP” by @maliciouslove 🦠

fem reader x slimeball starbucks barista!denki kaminari

having a slimebucks apron is equal to having unlimited rizz (source: me) and denki proves it by bedding his brand new colleague on her very first day of work.

“THE HR FILES” by @if-dreams-do-come-true ⚠️

afab reader x corrupt cop!kishibe

kishibe is a shameless corrupt cop with a penchant to make inappropriate advances at fresh faced interns and the reader is unfortunately his newest victim.

"STICKLER" by @princess-okkotsu 🦠

after a run-in with grimetown's sleazy cop nanami, you've come to the dmv to replace the sticker that was stolen off your car from a certain freeloader. you've got to convince the dmv employee, a stickler for the rules, that you quite badly need this problem squared away today.

#slimeball collab directory #LET'S GOOOOOO #kissing u all on the head rn #stepdaddy merc

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etheries1015 · 10 months

Text

Do you think the TOT group would mind tattoos?

Kind of self induldgant. I have an entire sleeve so I started wondering... How would the TOT gang react to that?

Overall I think they would be more open minded to it, seeing as they come from a generation where people getting tattoos are much more common. Yet they were also born just in time for their parents and grandparents to have wavering ideas about tattoos.... How would their upbringing affect how they feel about them?

General warnings: Female reader

Vyn

- I don't think he would be too fond of tattoos, just a vibe? He still is in the nobility mindset, so sometimes he finds his thoughts moving towards what he grew up around. However he will shove this line of thought down his throat. Just because he isn't FOND of them, doesn't mean he JUDGES others who decides to get them.

- probably has seen a lot of different people with tattoos in his line of work. They don't bother him, and he understands there are different reasons people decide to get them.

- He prefers someone who will probably be a bit more modest about showing them off publicly

however in private you are free to wear whatever you like. Encourages you to show them off in front of him, even. Tattoos or not, you still look like a princess in his eyes.

- loves that you can express yourself freely in such a way. All sorts of people express who they are through different means, and one of yours is tattoos. Will ask you about why you got them and their meanings, if they have any.

- Might be a little bit possesive in a way? Especially if your tattoos are in more of a hidden part of your body... He finds it attractive when he can see those parts of you and him alone.

Artem

- I REALLY get the vibe that he is more a traditionalist. Tattoos depending on what they are can be seen as unprofessional, and would prefer you to cover them up whenever you are working along side with him. Mostly in the sense of he wants others to respect you. He already has that respect for you, but he's afraid many of your clients will not treat you the same.

- Stares at them when you two are alone and have free time to yourselves. You ask him if he wants to touch them, but he blushes and looks away

- MEANINGS! He likes to hear about the meanings behind the tattoos. Stories about what happened in your life around that time, its his excuse to get you to talk about yourself

-honestly doesn't care THAT much. You're a smart person and he holds a lot of respect and affection for you, tattoos are simply apart of you and he comes to embrace that as well.

- If he catches someone staring at your tattoos too long...he gets a little bit defensive. Glares at them, pulls you closer towards him...sometimes you attract too much attention and he gets jealous!!!

Marius

- Literally does not give 2 shits

- Probably begs you to let him design your next tattoo

- likes to paint on your skin what he thinks would look good on you.

- so many dresses and outfits to show them off. Your body is a canvas! Tattoos are the art!

- when you two cuddle, he likes to draw his fingers around the pattern of your tattoos, comparing them to brush strokes and analyzing your tattoo artists work.

- "you're such a baddass, miss!" He often says when he flirts with you. You simply roll your eyes and laugh

- MATCHING TATTOOS. He would want something very small and discrete though, somewhere only you two could see.

- you can be very free about your tattoos around him. Zero judgement

Luke

- I have very minimal information on him if I'm being honest so I'm not entirely sure , but I'll give a couple ideas from what I do know.

- He doesn't care

- He loves you and the ways you choose to express yourself.

-honestly as if they don't really exist. He doesn't pay too close attention to it, its just you and your body, what does it matter? Having a tattoo doesn't change the fact your still his partner!

- Sometimes when you are home alone and you are freely showing them off, he will look at them. Comment on the artistry, ask about them, gives a good topic to talk about.

- Considers getting one too at some point. But probably best to sway away from it, due to his job (Maybe ?)

- Wear whatever you want and do whatever you want. Tattoos does not change the fact he fell in love with you and doesn't see you any differently for it.

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bobawitch · 7 months

Text

Blushing Ink | M.S.

summary: this is fully based on this tiktok trend

cw: just fluff

wc: 694

“Oh my god Matt this is so cute.” You exclaimed, your makeup brush pinched between your pointer and middle finger. Matt moved to look at his Marvin the Martian tattoo that now had 2 rosy blushed cheeks. He smiled and laughed, laying his eyes back onto you. You were fixed sitting on his lap, blush laying open on his chest. You leaned down, gently holding his arm to get a good reach of the cowboy. Matt’s focus slowly drifted from you and back to his phone, tik tok open and gently playing throughout the room. “Hey baby look at this.” Matt turned the phone to show you a cute edit of you and Matt.

You didn’t make a habit of showing up in videos because you knew that their fans could be a little intense. But anytime you were in a video the fans went wild with assumptions. People had caught on to y’alls chemistry and it had done wonders for your channel, though you still hadn’t admitted that y’all were dating. You were a full time tattoo artist that met Matt through your job. Even with your long hours and your stress of designing for others you found time to make videos. Mainly on tattoo care and tattoo machine safety. Think Brad Mundo but for tattoos.

You stared at the edit and smiled, leaning forward to kiss him. “That’s a really cute edit.” You slowly peeled your eyes from the phone before landing them on your boyfriend's face. Matt had his eyes fixated on you, smiling up at you. Your cheeks warmed in the way they normally do when someone you love dotes on you. “You’re really cute.” Matt said, his voice barely above a whisper. You scoffed in a flustered manner, looking away from him. “Thank you baby.” You replied sheepishly. Your hand reached for the blush on his chest once more, dipping your brush with the pink dust. Brushing the powder onto the inked up cowboy to make him look as if he were an anime girl, blushing at her crush. Matt looked down at his own arm and began to laugh, causing his arm to jolt around in your grasp. You began to giggle as well, the joyous sounds of your boyfriend infecting you quickly. You pulled your phone out and took a photo of all of the characters that you had brushed blush onto before turning it to Matt who laughed even harder. Your laughing continued, as did your boyfriend’s. You both laughed until your eyes pricked with salty tears, causing you to struggle to breathe. Slowly the two of you calmed down and you found yourself laying against Matt’s chest, propped up just enough to look him in the eyes. Your fingers traced some of his small curls away from his eyes, smiling down at him. His hands were warm against your waist, drawing light circles around the fabric of your shirt. As you both laid in blissful silence you found yourself gazing into Matt’s eyes with a small smile.

You had a small obsession with the boy's skyline blue eyes, you constantly told him you loved his eyes. You suggested dyeing your hair blue to match his eyes, he thought it was a cute idea but he also didn’t want you to damage your hair.

Matt noticed your gaze before sighing and looking at his arm with the blush dusted on it. “Hm, I think it’s only fair if I get to put blush on your tattoos too.” You smiled and nodded, moving off of him so he could sit up. Once the boy had sat up he snaked his arms around your waist, discarding his phone to the side. Quickly you found yourself sitting on your boyfriend’s lap once more, his own hand grasping the blush and it’s matching brush. You smiled, pressing a gentle kiss on his lips before moving your tattoos near him.

The two of you could barely stay focused as he dusted the blush around your tattoos that had a face. Once you were both blushed up you made a little tik tok and a few photos before turning on a movie.

#sturniolo triplets #nick sturniolo #chris sturniolo #matt sturniolo #sturniolo #matt sturniolo imagine #christopher sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #matt sturniolo x reader #matt sturniolo x you #matthew sturniolo #bobawitch writes #sturniolo fanfic

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rookthorne · 11 months

Text

⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂ 𝐆𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐥𝐞𝐦𝐚𝐧'𝐬 𝐂𝐨𝐝𝐞

The day that James Barnes walked through the door to be your patron for the evening, was the day your life changed for good. There was no way that you would go back — not after finding the man you wanted to spend the rest of your life with.

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒑𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈 ✦ Mafia!Bucky Barnes x F!Reader

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒅 𝒄𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒕 ✦ 2.0k

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒘𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔 ✦ Fluff, tension ჻჻჻ TROPES: Meet Cute

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒂𝒖𝒕𝒉𝒐𝒓 𝒏𝒐𝒕𝒆 ✦ The shit I wouldn't do to have this.

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒂𝒏𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒎 ✦ Doin' Time by Lana Del Rey

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒏𝒕 ✦ @buckybarnesevents Hot Bucky Summer ჻჻჻ Week 5 — "When I first met you..."

𝐇𝐢𝐬 𝐄𝐦𝐩𝐢𝐫𝐞, 𝐇𝐞𝐫 𝐑𝐮𝐥𝐞𝐬 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

Sunlight peeked through the floor to ceiling curtains, the sign of a new day full of promise.

A heavy, tattooed arm was draped over your hip and you blinked sleepily, clearing your vision to start tracing the designs with your finger. Today was meant to be nice and slow – an easy day for both you and Bucky, who had been working too damn hard. It had taken a hell of a lot of convincing to make him take a day, but in the end, as you always did, you won out.

“Tha’ tickles, baby,” Bucky mumbled, huffing slightly as he pulled you tight against his bare chest.

You smiled happily and burrowed into the covers, content to sleep in. “Morning, babe,” you murmured, bringing his hand to your lips and kissing his palm. “How’d you sleep?”

“Fine,” Bucky replied, tucking his face into your neck. His next words were muffled against your skin, “Can we stay here today? You’re so warm.”

“Why not,” you chuckled, moving his hand to stare at the tattoos on the back of his hand and over his fingers. “Been thinking lately–”

Bucky snorted. “That’s dangerous, sweetheart.”

“Hey.” The slap to his hand made him laugh, his chest shaking against your back. “I’ve been thinking of when we met–all those months ago.” A low hum was your only answer, so you continued, “It was so strange to see everyone bend over backwards to serve you, and then you get stuck with me; a girl who has no idea who you are. At least Stevie found it hilarious.”

“Oh, milochka,” Bucky sighed, rolling onto his back. You shuffled and turned to face him – taking a moment to admire the straight line of his nose, and his angular, perfect jawline. “You took me by surprise, a little spitfire like you not knowing who I was? God, it was intoxicating.”

“Really?” You asked, brow raised.

Bucky nodded, a devilish grin pulling his lips up. “You were mine to corrupt.”

Laughter filled the room at his words, and you moved to straddle his hips, careful to not seat yourself on the rapidly growing tent in his briefs. Bucky looked up at you, his eyes flashing as his hands rested on your hips. “Who says I wasn’t the one to corrupt you,” you teased, “huh?”

The memory swept you away, and suddenly, you were back in that high end restaurant, dolled up in a pressed uniform with a fake smile plastered on your lips.

It was a cold night, and the doorman was taking coats from patron after patron while the maitre d’ stood to your right, handing each arrival off until you came to the forefront. Just as you stepped up, she greeted the two tall men in suits. “Ah, Mr. Barnes, Mr. Rogers,” she said, smiling widely as she turned to stare at you pointedly. “The best seat in the house, please.”

You took a singular second to look between the two men, and it was all you could do to not gasp in shock. The closest had dark hair slicked back and almost to his shoulders, not to mention a bright smile lifting his lips as he looked at you. A sleek, shining three piece suit adorned his cutting figure. The man behind him, blond and broad, was markedly more reserved – lips lying flat and an unimpressed air about him as he glanced around the restaurant.

Get it together, you scolded yourself. “Come with me,” you said, offering your name in a professional, warm tone. “I will be your waitress for the evening.” A booth in the back corner came into view and you directed them to their seats, taking out the menus that were tucked neatly on the table. “Here you are; can I start you off with a drink, sirs?”

“Whiskey,” the blond said nonchalantly, glancing down at the menu. “On the rocks.”

You hummed an ascent and wrote it down before glancing at the other man, only to startle at the intensity of his gaze. Blinking once, you smiled nervously. “And you, sir?”

“The same. Make it a double.”

“Excellent,” you chirped, beaming as you pulled the paper from the pad to take to the bar. “I will be right back with your drinks, and then I will take your order.”

You turned on the spot and strode purposefully towards the bar, order in hand, when the maitre d’ appeared at your side. “You must treat those patrons with the utmost respect,” she rushed, pulling you aside.

“What?” you questioned, nerves starting to bubble away in your gut – they didn’t seem all that important, many big names came to dine at your work. What made them so different? “Why?”

“Just make their dining experience the best. It is imperative,” she ordered sternly. “Make them your top priority–I will assign your tables to the others.”

“O-Okay,” you stammered, standing stock still. “Will do.” She nodded and walked away, head high and shoulders back, while you floundered to get a grip on what she had just said. “What the hell,” you muttered under your breath.

A few moments later, you retrieved the ordered whiskeys, and as you walked back to the table, your friend passed by, shooting you a look. “Be careful,” she whispered, and you stared at her, entirely confused. “Just be careful, alright?”

For the umpteenth time that night, you repeated a quiet, “Okay,” and made your way to the booth where your patrons waited for their drinks.

A steady feeling of unease had wormed its way into your mind – everyone seemed to be fearful of these gentlemen, but they had been nothing but respectful so far, maybe aloof and standoffish, but when weren’t rich men aloof and standoffish. Pushing it from your mind, you approached the table, and smiled. “Your drinks, gentlemen.”

Both glasses of whiskey settled on the table with a quiet thunk, and you fetched your pad of paper and your pen. “Now, what–”

“What was your name again, darling?”

You blinked once, twice, and shook yourself. The man with dark hair – his tone was rich, deep, and perfectly clipped to sound polite. Offering your name again, you fidgeted with the pen in your hand as he stared at you. “What will you be having, gentlemen?” You tried again, willing your heart to calm down.

“I’ll have the steak, medium rare–with scallops,” the blond said, putting down the menu. You nodded and noted his order, then looked expectantly over at the dark-haired man.

He considered you, and then opened his mouth to speak, “The same, please.”

“Alright,” you said, nodding as you wrote it down. Your spill that you’d learnt off by heart came next. “I will be back with your orders soon, in the meantime, enjoy our complimentary bread basket and if you need a refill of your drinks, please let me know and I will see to it.”

The men nodded and you departed their company to hand your order into the kitchen. “Table fourteen needs to be expedited, thanks, Gary,” you called into the hustle and bustle, and the head chef nodded – obviously having been briefed on the situation, of which you still didn’t understand.

While waiting for the food, you navigated the tables on habit and tidied where you could. It wouldn’t be right to hover at your patron’s booth – privacy was just as important as good service, it had been ingrained into your mind since the beginning, but you couldn’t help but feel eyes on you as you walked. Only, when you glanced surreptitiously towards their booth, the two men were locked in conversation, light and banterful if you could guess by the dark-haired man’s smile, and the blond’s eyerolls.

A loud ding came from the kitchen – the order bell, and a loud, “Table fourteen!”

“That’s me,” you mumbled to yourself, walking to the order window and grabbing the two plates carefully. “Thanks, Gary,” you said loudly, and he just nodded once again – man of a few words, that one, you thought to yourself.

Your feet carried you expertly through the bustling waiters and waitresses towards your booth, and you smiled happily as it came into view, both men eyeing the plates with interest. But there was something off – something had changed, the blond had shifted in his seat, and the dark-haired man had moved down, freeing up a space.

Were they expecting someone else?

“Your meal, gentlemen,” you offered, placing the plates down one by one in front of them. “Would there be anything else you’re after?”

“Yes,” the dark-haired man piped up, and you raised your brows expectantly while pulling out your pad of paper. “No, put that away,” he waved, and you frowned. “Join us.”

What?

“I’m sorry, gentlemen,” you rushed, still frowning. “But I must–”

“No,” the blond interrupted. “Sit down. The maitre d’ has been told that you are now off the floor.”

“Oh, uh- Okay,” you fumbled. Carefully, you took a seat in their booth, and folded your hands in your lap as they grabbed the cutlery to begin eating their meal.

“I’m Bucky, by the way,” the dark-haired man said happily. “This here,” he waved his knife at the blond, “is Steve.” Steve quirked a lip at you, and then fell into that unimpressed flat line again as he cut into his food. “Tell us, darling,” Bucky continued, “how long have you worked here for?”

Dumbfounded, you stared for a second too long before you cleared your throat – the inescapable feeling of unease doubling in their presence. They felt dangerous, but you couldn’t place why. “Not too long, maybe a few months. I’m just making ends meet.”

“I can respect that,” Bucky said simply, nodding once. He placed a cut of steak in his mouth and chewed thoughtfully, swallowing before he spoke again. “How come we’ve never seen you around here before, though?”

“I only just- Um, completed my training, I guess?” You offered tentatively, wringing your hands under the table. “What about you? This is the first time I have seen such esteemed patrons in the dining room, let alone ones that can tell my boss to take me off the floor.”

Steve snorted into his plate and coughed loudly, dropping his cutlery with a clatter. You glanced over at him to see him grinning, a twinkle of something in his eyes from the low light, and you looked back at Bucky; he was staring wide-eyed at you, a hesitant grin on his lips.

You prayed to whoever would listen that you hadn’t offended them. “What?”

“Oh my god,” Steve sighed, shaking his head. Bucky laughed then, his hand coming up to rub at his chin. “That’s a first, Buck,” Steve chuckled, “an absolute first.”

“Tell me about it,” Bucky replied, staring at you. “Darling, you don’t know who we are?”

The earth couldn’t delay swallowing you whole after this, you swore. You opened your mouth, closed it in fear, before you managed a small, “No?”

“Wow,” Steve breathed, getting back to his plate-full of food.

You could feel eyes on you, and you turned to look out of the corner of your eyes at the other patrons – their furtive glances, combined with the quick gazes from the workers made you all the more unsettled. In an act to ground yourself, you took a deep breath and looked back at Bucky, who had started to dig back into his food. “Should I know who you are…?”

“I am honestly surprised you don’t,” Bucky said lowly, brow furrowing as he worked the knife through his steak. “It’s not often that I meet a beautiful kukla that doesn’t know who I am. Or Stevie, for that matter.”

“Oh,” you squeaked, the use of another language making all sorts of reactions to fire through your body. “Okay–well, it is nice to meet you both.”

“Likewise, darling,” Bucky grinned before he took another mouthful of steak.

The evening continued much the same, slow conversation and easy atmosphere that settled your nerves, and when it came time for them to leave, Bucky had taken your hand and kissed your knuckles – a gentle touch that was taken by the feel of paper in your palm. “Until next time, krasivaya kukla.”

A tight squeeze to your hips brought you back to the present where you sat atop Bucky, perched on his thighs, and you smiled down at him, content with the turn of events. “You did get your krasivaya kukla,” you purred, “dushechka.”

kukla = doll krasivaya = beautiful milochka / dushechka = darling

⠈⠂⠄ 𝐢𝐧𝐛𝐨𝐱 | 𝐥𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲 | 𝐚𝐨𝟑 ⠄⠂⠁

⠈⠂⠄𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 | 𝐜𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 ⠄⠂⠁

#bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x f!reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x female reader #bucky x f!reader #bucky x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes oneshot #hotbuckysummer2023 #rookthorne's works #GC

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ashwhowrites · 1 year

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I have a request, an angst one. It’s based by a song it’s called “the one that got away” by Katy Perry. YOU CAN MAKE IT FLUFFY OR ANGST FOR THE ENDING!!! Bcz I know people will ask for part two if you leave it angst.

Thank you so much! Love your writing btw, keep up the great work! Tag me once it’s published if you ever do it! @josephquinnlover0

Let's do it! I hope this is what you wanted. It does end happy !!

I am aware Eddie Munson would never sing this song, but he is today. I tweaked a little bit of the lyrics to fit his point of view. So the fic does not match exactly to the lyrics.

In modern times with social media and all that

Not proofread

~~~

Summer after high school when we first met

We make out in your Mustang to Radiohead

And on my 18th birthday, we got matching tattoos

Eddie wanted to leave Hawkins the second he graduated, he wanted a fresh start, a place where he could have a new reputation. He got a job at a bar, working to save up money so he can move out of the state. At that very bar, he met Y/N. A girl who soon became the girl of his dreams.

They were bartenders together, he'd play guitar on the slow nights, and she'd watch from the bar. She'd sing along as she helped customers.

Once their shift was done they'd race to her Mustang, climb in the backseat and make out for hours. But she also lay in his arms, playing with his fingertips as he ranted about wanting to leave Hawkins behind, but he couldn't imagine leaving her. Even with how much she worked, all her money went to keeping food on the table for her siblings. Her parents were barely around, they couldn't take care of themselves, let alone their children.

On his twenty-first birthday, they raced to the tattoo shop. Being together for over a year, and feeling more in love than ever. They wanted to be connected forever. So they got matching tattoos.

Now it was a painful reminder for Eddie every single day.

The perks of her parents never being around meant that once Eddie and Y/N got her siblings to bed, they could sneak out to the roof, a bottle of liquor in hand.

Used to steal your parents' liquor and climb to the roof

Talk about our future like we had a clue

Never planned that one day, I'd be losing you

She would lay in his arms, head against his shoulder. Together they would talk about their future, a future together. He talked about how one day he would propose at that shitty bar, promising to be hers forever in the same spot he met her. She talked about their wedding, her idea of her dress, and the color scheme.

Eddie never thought one day he'd never talk to her again.

In another life

I would be your girl

We keep all our promises

Be us against the world

When Eddie went to bed at night, he dreamed of another life. A life where they got their future together. She would be his girl and all the promises they made would stay true. It would be them against the world.

In another life

I would make you stay

So I don't have to say

You were the one that got away

The one that got away

In another life, he would have stayed, never taking that record deal. He would have turned back around when she begged him to stay.

He would be with her.

He wouldn't have to admit she was the one he let get away.

Eddie heard from Steve she got her tattoo removed, and it stung. Eddie traced the design, now even more bittersweet knowing the other half is now nonexistent.

Someone said you had your tattoo removed

Saw you downtown singing the blues

Its time to face the music

I'm no longer your muse

He saw a video of her singing at the bar. She used to sing in the kitchen as they danced. They wrote so many songs together, some songs he still sings to this day, to a crowd that doesn't know who the muse was. But he knew.

Listening to her sing brought back the memories, the songs she wrote about being in love with him. Now her songs don't relate to him at all, time to face it, he is no longer her muse.

Eddie made it big. He achieved his dream. He left Hawkins and moved out to Hollywood. Signed a record deal and is now drowned in money. But yet, none of that money could give him the chance to turn back time. He could buy anything in the world, but nothing would replace her, and he hated that he learned that too late.

All this money can't buy me a time machine, no

Can't replace you with a million rings, no

I should've told you what you meant to me, whoa

'Cause now I pay the price

He should have told her she meant more to him than any dream he had before her. He hated that it took him leaving her to realize she was his dream.

Now he has to pay the price.

Now Eddie returned to Hawkins, his tail between his legs as he arrived at the very bar. His guitar case was in his hand as he walked through the doors. His eyes caught the big sign that stated his name in bold letters.

In another life, I would make you stay

So I don't have to say you were the one that got away

The one that got away

"Eddie Munson returns, Live tonight at 8"

People were running up to him, asking for autographs, and expressing their excitement for his show. But his eyes stayed on the bar, looking to see if she would still be working there.

When he made it to the stage, the spotlight blinded him but he was able to see her through it. She hasn't changed in the two years he has been gone. Her hair was longer than before, but everything was the same. She looked just as beautiful as the day he left.

And she was looking back right at him. That same look of adoration and love in her eyes. A smile proud smile on her face as she clapped along with the crowd. He noticed her siblings sitting in the corner booth, huge smiles as they took him in.

He took a deep breath and strummed his guitar

"This is called, the one that got away"

~~~

Once Eddie finished his set, he walked to the bar. A nervous smile on his face as he walked up to her.

"Hey there rockstar," She smiled, walking around the bar to give him a hug. He could feel his body relax into her, wrapping his arms around her and keeping her close. Inhaling her scent as he kissed her head.

"Hi gorgeous, how are you?" He asked, pulling away to look at her closer. She smiled and stepped back, his body already missing her touch.

"I'm doing alright. The same old thing. Mom and Dad finally gave up, I saved up enough money to get my own apartment, and took the kids with me." She explained

"I'm glad you were able to move out. You deserved that. I see the little ones are not so little anymore." Eddie smiled, a little sad he missed out on watching them grow up. He spent every day with them for two years straight.

"Thanks. I see you are doing amazing! All over social media, magazines, and tv. I'm proud of you, Eddie." And he could tell she meant every word. He left her behind and yet here she was, supporting him every step of the way.

"Thank you, that means a lot. Things might look amazing but I've been struggling," Eddie admitted. He missed her and he wanted her back.

"Oh, do you need to talk? I'm about to go on break" She offered

~~~

Eddie paced behind the bar, cracking his knuckles as he waited for her.

"What's going on?" She asked politely

"I didn't come here to do the gig. I'm here for you. I miss you. Leaving you was the biggest mistake I have ever made." Eddie admitted. Reaching forward to cup her jaw.

She let herself melt into it

"I never blamed you, Eddie. Your dream was at your fingertips. I never should have asked you to stay, that wasn't fair. I mean I had no real life, I worked and took care of my siblings. Shit, I still do. Why would you want to stay? There was nothing here for you." She said, turning her head to kiss his palm.

"You're wrong. I thought it was my dream but I feel like I've been in a nightmare since I left. I had to leave to find out that you were my dream all along and you still are. I had a reason to stay, and she was across from me. And now she's the reason why I'm back. I still love you and I never tried to move on. I promised my heart was beating for you, and that's a promise I didn't break." Eddie admitted. Stepping closer, leaning his face closer to hers.

Her eyes were welling up with water.

"I still love you too. I never tried to move on either. I missed you every day and the idea of being someone else's just put salt in the wound. I missed you." She confessed, watching as he looked into her eyes, leaning down to ghost his lips over hers.

His eyes asked, and she replied by leaning up. Smashing her lips onto his. He moaned the second he tasted her again, wrapping his arms around her waist. His stomach did flips as she wrapped her arms around his neck, hands digging themselves into his hair.

"Thank you for coming back," she whispered against his lips as she pulled back. Small pecks to his lips between each word.

"I also came here to do something," Eddie admitted. A smirk on his face as he stepped back.

She looked at him confused, watching as he got down on his knee

"Munson..." she trailed off

"I came here to do something we always dreamed about," He started, she gasped as he went into his pocket, taking out a small ring. "I left once, and I've regretted it since. You are my dream, my life, and my future. I promised you I'd ask you to marry me at the bar we met, promise to be yours forever, so what do you say? Marry me?" Eddie asked, a smile on his face as she cried into her hands.

"Yes! Oh my gosh, Yes." She cried out, placing her left hand in front of him, allowing him to slip the ring on her finger. She admired the ring, it was gorgeous.

He got off his knee, standing straight as he cupped her face and leaned in, placing his lips on hers.

"Us against the world, right?" He whispered

"Forever" She whispered back, pecking his lips.

"I don't care if we stay in this shitty town, or move anywhere you want. As long as I have you, I'm happy to be anywhere." Eddie said

"Me too."

Tags!

@bmunson86 @mxcheese @ladymunson @michaelfuckinglangdon @z0mbie-blah @biittersweet @mirrorsstuff @slightlyvicked @micheledawn1975 @ago-godance @magnificantmermaid @tlclick73 @hargrovesswifee @cityofidek @manyfandomsfanvergent @silky-luxe @lokiofasgard616 @loving-and-dreaming @eddiemunsonsbitch69 @thegemaqua @ashlynnkennedy @strangerthingsstories5255 @harringt8ns @pleasinghellfire @whoscamila @josephquinnlover0

#eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #eddie munson fanfic #eddie stranger things #eddie munson request #eddie munson angst #eddie munson angst x reader #eddie munson fluff x reader #eddie munson fluff #eddie x reader #rockstar! eddie x reader #rockstar eddie munson #ashwhowrites

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magicfootballstuff · 1 year

Text

The Future is Ours - part 2 (ona batlle x reader)

I couldn’t resist writing a follow up to this fic. Content warning for wall-to-wall tooth-rotting fluff.

———

It’s not breaking in because you have a key.

You let yourself into Ona’s new apartment in Barcelona, dumping your suitcase and kicking off your shoes by the door as you wander inside. It’s weird to actually be here - you haven’t been able to visit her since she moved in but you see the place almost every day on FaceTime.

You familiarise yourself with Ona’s flat but don’t nose around too much. She’s only lived here a few weeks and it’s clear she’s still settling in, the furniture sparse and a couple of boxes still sitting around waiting to be unpacked. There’s a few personal touches around though and you smile when you see a few photo frames taking pride of place on top of the dresser in the bedroom - one of you kissing Ona’s cheek from behind, one of you posing together with the WSL trophy at the end of last season, a third that was taken by a teammate of you both asleep on each other’s shoulders on the team bus after an away game.

Keen to wash the aeroplane grime off yourself before Ona returns home from training, you move your bags into the bedroom and take a quick shower, before changing into some fresh clothes.

You’re just investigating Ona’s kitchen and the contents of her fridge when you hear the front door open and close. You shut the fridge and turn around just as Ona appears around the corner.

“Hi,” you say breathlessly, the sight of your girlfriend, her hair falling over one shoulder in pretty waves from where it’s been tied up in a braid during training, knocking the air out of your lungs.

Ona drops her kitbag and launches herself across the room at you, flinging her arms around your neck.

“You’re actually here,” she murmurs, her voice muffled by your hair.

“I’m actually here,” you hum in agreement, wrapping your arms around her back and inhaling her familiar scent. Her body fits against your perfectly and though it’s barely been three weeks since you last saw her, you can’t get enough of the feeling of finally having your girl in your arms again.

“Wait, how did you get in here?” Ona asks, pulling back only far enough that she can look at you with a curious frown.

“I had a little help,” you explain, pulling a set of keys out of the pocket of your shorts.

“Those are my keys!” Ona exclaims. “They went missing last week and I’ve been using the spare.”

“I asked Pina for help and took them when she came round for dinner,” you explain.

“I can’t even be mad at her because you’re here,” Ona says, her hand coming up to stroke your cheek. “I missed you so much. But why didn’t you tell me you were coming?”

“I wanted it to be a surprise. Also, I’m not just here to see you.”

“You’re not?”

You shake your head, fighting off a smile as you can barely contain your excitement.

“I’m here with my agent. I have a medical at Barcelona tomorrow.”

“You have… you’re joining Barcelona?”

“I think so. I mean, obviously we’ll talk it through before I actually sign anything. I don’t know if you even want me at the same club, but…”

“Are you kidding?" Ona scoffs. "Of course I want you here. I had no idea they wanted to sign you.”

“Apparently they’ve been watching me for a couple of years and think I’ll fit right in." You shoot Ona a smirk and add, "There was something about my on-pitch chemistry with their new fullback too.”

“What about the off-pitch chemistry?” Ona asks, raising her eyebrows suggestively as her arms snake around your middle.

“Ouch,” you hiss in pain as Ona’s hand brushes against a sore spot on your ribs.

“Are you okay?” Ona asks, her eyes full of concern.

“Yeah, hang on. I got you a present.”

You take a step back and roll up the hem of your t-shirt, lifting it until you can show her the inked skin of your ribcage. The tattoo is almost identical to the one she got recently, the same design to represent your time together at Manchester United.

“You got a matching tattoo?” Ona asks.

“It’s not exactly the same,” you explain. “The coordinates are different. Google them.”

Ona gets out her phone, frowning in concentration as she types out the numbers printed on your ribs.

“The pin is right here,” she says with a frown. She tilts her phone towards you, showing you the map. “Look, we’re right on top of it.”

“Your tattoo shows the place where we first met,” you explain, your heart racing in your chest as the nerves start to build. “And my tattoo is of the place where I asked you to marry me.”

A million emotions flash across Ona’s face in a split second, though mostly confusion.

“Where you … but you haven’t …”

As you pull a little box out of your pocket and drop to one knee on the kitchen floor, Ona realises what’s going on and her eyes widen in surprise.

You take a deep breath and switch to the Spanish you’ve been practicing with Lucía for the last couple of weeks, hoping that you don’t stumble over the words or that you accent doesn’t send Ona into a fit of giggles that ruins the moment.

“I love you,” you say in Spanish, speaking slowly as you recite the rehearsed words. “You are my world. You have my heart. I cannot imagine my life without you. Ona, my love, will you marry me?”

Ona, whose face split open into a huge grin the second you started speaking Spanish, nods and wipes a tear away.

“Yes,” she responds in English. “Yes, I will marry you.”

You push yourself up onto both feet and reach for her hand to slip the ring onto her finger, then pull her in for a deep kiss. Her arms wrap around you again, this time careful to avoid your tattoo, and you can’t get enough of her lips against yours or the feeling of her in your arms.

“I thought we agreed that I’d propose to you,” she whispers, when you finally break apart.

“Oh, I’m still expecting you to return the favour at some point,” you tease her. “But after all the uncertainty these last few months about your career and trying the long distance thing, I realised the only thing that matters is that I’m certain about wanting to spend my future with you. In Manchester, in Barcelona, wherever this journey takes us. I’m yours.”

“Can you say all that again, but in Spanish?” Ona asks, a teasing grin spreading across her freckled face.

“Shut up,” you pout, giving Ona a little push, but she wraps her arms around you and presses her lips to your hairline. “I’ve been practicing my proposal for weeks.”

“Plenty of time to teach you more if you move here,” Ona teases you. “You’ll be fluent by the time you have to write your wedding vows.”

“Challenge accepted.”

It’s been an impossibly long three weeks apart, but knowing that you have a future with Ona makes it all worthwhile.

#woso x reader #woso imagine #ona batlle x reader #ona batlle imagine #fluff #established relationship

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