Minors DNI (18+)
A Calm Night
Jason Voorhees x g/n Reader
TWs: Hunting mention, blood mention, drowning mention— listen, this is just a fluffy piece about the reader taking care of Jason. That’s it that’s all— just a whole bunch of self indulgent fluff.
“Jason!”
Calling off the porch, you wait patiently. He’s out there in the forest somewhere— you know it. He’d brought his archery gear when he left, whether practicing or hunting, he promised he wasn’t going far.
Not that you ever had to worry about that.
There were his heavy footsteps, then his large figure emerged. His hands bloody, he looks quite pleased with himself.
“I got a deer!” He signs to you, gestures quick with excitement.
“Really? That’s amazing!” You cheer, opening your arms for him, “Come inside and get washed up, you can tell me all about it over dinner.”
He squeezes you back when you hug him, his arms snug around you, the bloody hands staying away— knowing well you don’t like scrubbing blood out of your sweaters.
You tell him about the dinner you prepared as he washes up— the conversation is good to keep his mind off the water. You lead him to the table, where your places are set. Gesturing to his seat, he settles in as you collect the dishes and load them up. Setting it in front of him, you take the opportunity now that he’s sitting to press a kiss to his head.
A rare opportunity to kiss skin.
Jason becomes flustered— he always becomes flustered when you take care of him like this. The kiss only further solidifies your place in his heart.
He begins to sign in that one-handed half-word kind of way, explaining how he went out to practice and ended up finding the stag he came across. Dropping his utensil into his dinner, both hands move around his head, where his mask sits half-off.
“They must be huge!” His arms move out and up to express the sheer size of the antlers, before coming back down to promise he would be bringing them back later.
“Why don’t you bring them and the meat in after dinner? We can get it all put away.”
Idle conversation continues over dinner, only pausing when he goes to collect the meat, and you clean up the kitchen. By the time he comes back you’re prepared to start sealing away the fresh meat.
In one hand, the package of meat. The other, cleanly severed, large antlers.
Fawning over how pretty they are, you both make quick work of preserving the meat. You send him down to the cellar, where you keep the deep freezer. As he carefully puts away nicely packaged cuts of meat, you tend to preparing for his shower.
It was something you were helping him work through— the extreme fear of water associated with his drowning, had him running for the hills when it came to baths. Showers, while still bringing intense anxiety, could be managed if done right.
Soft towels and nice smelling soap waits with you.
He knows what’s coming next— you were very insistent on daily bathing. But your insistence on his self care didn’t upset him. He knew you didn’t want to hurt him. Your eyes are too kind and soft, your smile is too sweet.
So of course, he shyly makes his way to the bathroom, hands squeezing and relaxing— a nervous fidget, shifting from one foot to another.
“It’s okay, you know I’ll be right here with you. We can make it quick and go right to bed. How does that sound?”
The tension in his shoulders release just the tiniest bit.
He’s so timid as he begins to undress, cued on by your own disrobing. Led by the hand, you take the first step into the running water, letting it fall down your back as you guide him in. There’s just enough room for the both of you, and the water doesn’t even have to touch him.
Grabbing his loofah, you load it up with soap and run it under the water, going to work gently scrubbing his body. Stopping only to get more warm water on it.
“There we go— how’s it feel? Are you warm enough?”
You aren’t surprised he kept the mask. Even though you’ve seen his face, he’s always far more comfortable in it, than without it.
As you wash his back, he washes his legs and junk, turning so you can scrub his chest and stomach.
“Alright, there we go… here, for your face.” A washcloth with face wash sits warm in your hand, holding it out for him to take— he always takes it, turns away, and removes the mask for washing. A habit you’ve grown accustomed to.
But now, he hesitates.
When you ask why, he somehow becomes even more shy. Fumbling with his hands before he finally signs, asking simply, “can you?”
“Would you be comfortable with me doing it? I don’t want to make you anymore uncomfortable, I know this is already stressful…”
He shakes his head, grabbing his mask slowly, he pulls it up and off.
Clasping it in his hands, he can’t seem to meet your gaze.
You smile, and gently cup his cheek. “Hello handsome, thank you for letting me help.”
Jason turns to putty in your hands as you gently wash his face— small circles on his cheeks and forehead, a little extra love under the right side of his neck, where a bit of blood splatter dried.
So careful and considerate, not a bubble gets in his eyes. Nor does he become overwhelmed by the feeling of water on his face.
All he can focus on is you.
“There you go.” You press a kiss to his cheek when you’ve finished, and begin to finally wash yourself— Jason imagines assisting you as you do for him, every touch from him would be tender and loving. He would be just as careful as you are, he knows it.
For now, though, he stands patiently as you rinse off.
He steps out first, and you’re quick to follow, wrapping yourself in a towel, you begin to pat him down— and he stops you with a hand on your wrist. As you begin expressing your confusion on your face, he reaches for your towel. Gently freeing it from your body, he begins to pat you down.
His mask set beside the sink, he’s attentive as he dries you off.
“Thank you, Jason.” The whisper tickles his ear when you hug him, his arms wrapping securely around you, he scoops you up.
In the bedroom, both your pajamas sit folded neatly on the end of the bed. He takes great care to put them on you— he’s never done this before, but that doesn’t seem to matter.
Because when you lay down to sleep, hugging his head to your chest, his arms around your middle, you know he loves you in ways words couldn’t describe. He’s said it before, but moments like these make it all the more clear just what he meant; he loves you more than he could ever express.
(click for better resolution)
kate bush during a performance of “wuthering heights” (1978)
mood
ℙℝ𝔼𝕋𝕋𝕐
⤷ Dabi - Touya Todoroki
x
ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ
➤ genre § fluff
✎ word count § 4.2k
⊱ warnings § mentions of alcohol
You carefully rotated the little whiskey glass, as you wiped. Yours were so focused on the way it reflected the unnecessarily bright, flashing lights surrounding you. You blinked twice and rubbed your eyes with the back of your hand. You've been up all night, and everything was stress inducing. The blouse which had the first two buttons torn, or the vest you wore over it that suddenly became too tight. Maybe it's the tie you were wearing, it's incredibly annoying.
You put the glass down, next to the similar crystal pieces. Letting out another sigh, as you leaned on the counter, lowering your head to try and drown the music out.
Too much people. Too much music. Too little air.
You watched a man, slam on the chair in front of you, a lady on hand, flopping down on the chair next to him. Chuckling and giggling, swaying and shuddering, and the reddening tips of their ears couldn't hide how shit drunk they were.
"Two Mojitos!" The man said, and the woman just giggled.
You winked with an out-of-habit smile, snapping your fingers as you pulled out a bottle of rum, and some fresh limes. Hopefully, it's the last drinks of the night. 2 less individuals to worry about.
You're eyes were half-closed as you did a bunch of tricks with the fruit and mint leaves, which no one paid attention to, but it made your work a little less boring. You pulled out two glasses, as you shook the metallic container to mix the rum and sugar inside. Placing the mint leaves in the glasses, and tossing the metallic bottle from a hand to another, before pouring the liquid into the glass, finally cutting the lime into slices, placing a bunch inside the liquid, and a single slice on the tip of the glass for that dramatically decorative effect.
"Two Mojitos." You sang sheepishly, as he gave you the money.
"Keep the change!"
You walked to another empty part of the counter, starring at the blonde D.J. who couldn't possibly make the music any louder. You stared at the people dancing in the big nightclub, a redhead in a short silver dress, a blondie in a tight purple dress, a guy in all black, a guy in black and white, white and blue, too many colors. You briefly rubbed your eyes, and turned around, facing the dull colors of bottles of cheap alcohols, rum, wine and champagne, they made your eyes relax, feel a little more comfortable in their sockets.
"One Blue Blazer." You heard a whisper too close to ear, it made your body jolt.
Your breath hitched in your throat as you turned around and stepped away, almost but not bumping into the other counter of glasses and a quick heater.
"Scared 'ya? My bad, sweetheart."
He leaned back to sit on his chair with a chuckle, as he placed a dollar bill on the counter, the tip of it between his index and middle finger.
"Right.. Blue Blazer.." You watched his hands, your cheeks slightly flushed as you rubbed your nape.
"In a funny glass, myeah?"
You coughed to fix your throat, closing your eyes for a moment to get rid of the fire on your cheeks, as you opened them and turned around to get his drink ready. You turned on the kettle on the inner counter to let the water boil, as you pulled out a whiskey bottle and two lemons. You skill-fully opened the whiskey bottle with one hand, poured some into a metallic bottle, added garnish then started playing around with the bottle to mix the solution while waiting for the water to boil. It was a habit at this point, even if you felt a certain pair of eyes on you, which wasn't a first, you were so confident with your skills.. mainly because you're bored.
"You enjoy what you do?"
You froze for a moment, and looked at him over your shoulder. You looked at the bottle, threw it in the air, nudged again into the air with your elbow before catching it.
"No, just adaptive mechanisms." You giggled, pulling a funny glass to his request and poured the contents of the bottle in.
You added some boiled water, traced the tip of the glass with lemon nectar for the spice, and grabbed the lighter.
"Flaming?" You lit the lighter and looked at him for consent.
He closed his eyes with one head shake, as he dragged the glass towards him by the base. You closed the lighter, spun it between your fingers before putting it back in your pocket. You watched him trace his fingertip on the tip of the glass, before dragging it across his tongue.
"You don't strike me as someone who smokes."
You raised an eyebrow for a moment, he must be referring to the lighter you tucked in your shorts.
"My co-worker keeps misplacing it and it sucks." You huffed and grabbed a nearby finished glass, taking the bill underneath and letting it join the lighter.
"So you don't like what you do."
He wants to chit chat. You huffed, cleaning the glass in your hand with a cloth, as you chose your words carefully.
"Won't say no to income."
He hummed, taking a sip of his drink. He then placed it back down, letting his cheekbone rest on his knuckle as he watched you. You placed the glass next to it's clones, tugging the cloth in your empty pocket. You then leaned back on the counter, crossed your arms and held eye contact for a good while. His eyes were such a pretty shade of the sky, you could stare at them for hours. You've seen many colorful eyes, bright, deep, whatever, and you've held many intense eye contact, but oh boy, those pair of blues are definitely your favourite now.
"I love your eyes."
He gave you quite a sly smirk, your eyes were fairly pretty, but not enough for a stranger to compliment them. You dragged your index finger across your bottom lip, looking away for a moment as you felt your cheeks flush again.
"Get glasses."
"Don't do that."
You watched him lick the tip of the glass and take a sip with your eyebrows furrowed, one of your eyes squinting in a confused expression, much to your dismay he didn't elaborate.
You took a deep breath, your eyes making a triangle shape across his face, from an eye to another, a brief glance at his lips then slow repeat, and for just a moment you forgot how loud the music was, until he swiftly turned around, giving you his back as he set his drink down, letting you stare at his nape. You were surprised for a moment, but you've been here before, just never this lost. Another little eye flirt, another customer. You sighed, and moved to an empty part of the bar, waiting for the next customer, or perhaps the next guy to stare at you for moments before giving you his nape.
You gave the whole bar a check, collecting some change, cleaning glasses, giving refills and giving out a couple of orders. By the time you went back to where mister pretty-boy was, he was gone, with his glass empty resting on some change.
You grabbed the glass to clean it, and as you picked up the money, you saw a tissue with something written on it.
Meet me when your shift's over, pretty. -Dabi
Pretty, and Dabi. At least now you know the owner of your favorite blue eyes, but what the hell? No number, no place, no nothing, how would he even know when your shift ends? How would you meet him? The note was so messy, but something is incredibly hot about mystery. It's always the anonymous ones who are more attractive, as long as they're not a giant neon sign that screams kidnapper, you were in for a ride.
You spent the rest of the shift on autopilot, serving everyone while you questioned a literal paper tissue. You'd see a guy hit on a girl, and as they leave the bar together you think how this date could be a portal into something beautiful, but then you see a girl slapping a man, or a girl suddenly yelling at a man, and you realize, that this person, Dabi, should have made more effort. How will you even find him? What if you don't even want to date him? All these questions made you gaslight yourself into thinking you were just too pretty for him to ask you for a date up straight, and so you've decided to just go on about your everyday after shift routine. If he happen to be a part of it, sure, if not because of his misleading, info-lacking proposal, then it sucks to suck on his part.
Hours later, maybe two or three. The place wasn't any less empty, if not more crowded, but for the sake of your eyeballs, your shift was finally over.
You stared at the single tissue in your hand in the changing room, reading the words over again. Let's say for one moment you were oh so eager to meet him, your answer was an immediate yes, what are you to do now?? How would he even know your shift is over? Would he really be willing to wait for you for 3 hours??
With a sigh you threw the tissue away, removing your tie and unbuttoning your vest to disregard it as well. You were a simple jacket over your white blouse and shorts, bid farewell to your co-workers, and slowly made your way through the red alleys to the back door. It may have been a staff-only area, but you have a couple making out, and someone smoking in the corner nonetheless. You opened the door, breathing in the slightly polluted night air, and letting it out.
"Good evening, sweet thing!"
You had pepper spray for a reason.
"Ohh, aren't you the bartender?"
It was one of those nights. You occasionally left the night club to be met with a person or two, who were just hanging, and wouldn't say no to fun.. or wouldn't take no for an answer either. You had security guards escort you out sometimes, but not all times, you should see what happens to the strippers or pole dancers in there.
With a sigh you turned around, eyeing over two men who weren't so awful looking, but reeked off of alcohol, and definitely some substances.
"Good evening to you too.."
You smiled, not so brightly, your hand tugging in your bag as your fingers wrapper around your precious can of pepper spray.
"You really shouldn't go home alone, you know!"
"Oh yeah, who's gonna take care of you?"
They swayed left and right, slowly walking to you. They must have been either throwing out whatever drunken leftovers, or just smoking more substances.. or possibly just waiting for co-workers.
You took a single step back, guarded. You have an idea how this scenario would go both ways, but they 2 pairs of eyes, not just one, and the moment you aim at one of them, the other would probably prepare to dodge your attack while you spray the first one. Maybe spray one's eyes, and kick the other's nuts? Yeah. That should probably be the safest-
"She's with me."
There it was again. That odd whisper.
A gentle hand wrapped around your hip, pulling you to the side. Your shoulder was pressed against someone's chest, and it made your breath hitch. You didn't need to look up to make sure he's the owner of your favorite blues, he smelled awfully nice for a man. Something sour, and something spicy, with the stinky sting of the scent of cigarettes.
"She doesn't seem to mind."
You hate men for a reason.
"She does, get lost."
It was just his fingers, his whole hand cupped the curve of your hip, his fingers grazing the belt around your shorts, and just one of them, touched your skin through the small gap between your shirt and your shorts. His other hand was out of your vision, because you were looking straight ahead, slightly downwards, but you were able to make out he must be smoking a cigarette because he was holding something to his mouth.
Your cheeks flushed, and your heart banged against your ribcage as your fingers trembled softly. You hate physical contact, you hate when someone touches you, especially without asking first, but fuck, what is this?
"Don't be so selfish, the pretty lady hasn't said a thing."
You can't-
"She doesn't need to."
With that, he flicked the leftover of the cigarette with his middle finger, letting it land at their feet, before turning you around and walking away. You implied. He may be doing this for selfish purposes for later, but for now, you needed an upper hand, and 3 against 1 or 2 against 1 is further from that.
The moment you got out of their sight, his hand caressed your back from your hip up to your nape, letting his arm rest around your shoulders. Your breath hitched in your throat at the closeness, your fingers still tight around the pepper spray can almost crushing it, as his heart bounded against your shoulder, and you hoped he couldn't feel the banging of your own.
He soon enough slowed down in front of a dark blue motorcycle, unwrapping his arm around your shoulder and walking to it. He grabbed the half-face helmet dangling from one of the helmets and held it out for you.
You stared at it for a moment, taking a half-step back, before looking at him with a raised eyebrow. He seemed safe, but this was all too suspicious.
After a moment of another intense eye contact, his smirk widened, before he stepped closer and held the helmet out above your head to make you wear it. You slightly flinched back from the movement, but slowly stepped back in place under the helmet so he can put it on your head, to which he did, and adjusted a strap under your shine.
"Relax, pretty. I'm no kidnapper."
You huffed, and pulled the glass thing up to glare at him. He just smirked at you, the way he would a child.
"Sounds like something a kidnapper would say."
"Would a kidnapper let you keep a pepper spray?"
You rolled your eyes and walked past him, hoping on the back of the motorcycle. Leaving him room to sit in front of you. The back seat was high, so you briefly placed your hands between your legs to hoist yourself up. He walked over to you, leaning back on the driver seat with his hands in his pockets.
"Where'd you wanna go?"
You moved your bottom lip, tilting your head slightly as you looked up for a moment.
"Not home."
He blinked, his smirk unfaltering as he stayed silent.
"Take me somewhere."
He smirked only wider, showing some teeth. As he hoisted himself off his bike, and threw a leg over it.
You slowly wrapped your arms around his waist, laying your palms flat on his trunk. You could feel he was toned as shit underneath that shirt, you can vividly imagine him shirtless which was quite unholy.
"A pretty name for a pretty woman."
He started his bike and took off.
The hair didn't hit you, but it blew his hair back and you caught more than a few glimpses of his sliver industrial piercing on one of his ears. You rested your head between his shoulder blades, your arms tightening for a second, with each bump, each turn, and each stop.
"Relax, pretty. You're not gonna fall." He yelled, and you groaned.
He must've felt the vibrations of your face against his back because he chuckled.
"Stand up."
"Are you crazy?!" You tugged on his shirt with your fingers, as a form of nudging him.
"Trust meeee, pretty. You can still hold on to me, but stand up."
You didn't comply, and just slammed your forehead on his back.
"Real cockblock"
"That's mean.."
"Then stand up, pretty. I promise I won't go so fast." His voice softened, the moment your hold on him loosened up.
You were into risky shit, but there's a difference between risky and deadly, however the line between them was extremely thin.
He stopped at a red light and you felt him let go off of one of the handles and pat your thigh. His hand was so cold, almost icy against your skin, his pinkie even caressed your skin under your thigh high for a moment.
"You'll like it."
You stared at his hand for a moment, taking a deep breathe before unwrapping your arms from around his waist. You held on to his sides before slowly standing up, resting your hands on his shoulder, or more likely holding on for dear life. He wasn't even moving but your heart was alreadu pounding so fast. You leaned on his back, pressing your knees each against his side.
"Hold on." Just as the light turn green, he took off in the blink of an eye.
The momentum pushed you back, making you clench around his shoulders, and he used one hand yo hold your knee till you leaned forward again and got used to the speed.
He was right, you liked it.
The air didn't hit your face because of the helmet, but it had your jacket flying around you almost like wings. You'd hang out of your friend's car window often, or so, but this was wilder. So much unsafer, but wilder, and somehow you felt safe holding on to Dabi.
"Told you, ya'll like it."
You broke out into a laughing fit, wrapping one arm around his neck from the back, while you stretched the other one above your head.
"This is amazing!"
He took a sharp turn, leaning left, dangerously a little closer to the ground, and you just wooed leaning right to keep balance.
He laughed, leaning back in place and speeding up out of the city.
"You better not take me somewhere haunted, I like you!"
You tugged playfully at his hair, as he drove through a road in the forest.
"Don't worry, if you liked that you'll love this!"
He laughed, and got on a mountain road. The air got colder, wilder, and so did his speed. You yelled into the air, making him laugh, and race against the wind to the top.
He started slowing down nearing the end of the road, as you were met with a white fence. He parked his car, and got off, holding out his hand. You took, in giggles and chuckles leftover from your laughing fit and the adrenaline, as you took your leg off the bike, taking his other hand when he held it out too as he helped you hop off. He had a wide smirk, as he watched you giggle and chuckle the left overs of your laughing fit. He looked you in the eyes as he undid the helmet strap under your chin, his fingers caressing your jawline unnecessarily, which made your cheeks flush slightly, and giggle some more.
"What?" You asked.
He smiled, freezing for a moment before removing the helmet off of your head, and letting it hang on his bike handle, before walking to the fence and jumping over it.
"Whaaat!" You giggled again as you followed him, and helped you get over the fence like he did with his bike.
"I don't see why you don't think you're eyes are pretty." He murmured.
After he helped you get over the fence, by holding one hand, then your other hand, letting you throw your legs over, he kept his hold on one of your hands as he walked down the leap, almost dragging you with him. He stood on the edge of a steep he needed to slide down, and looked at you.
"Com'ere."
You silently obeyed, taking a step closer to him. He slid down the steep, then held a hand out as he leaned close to catch you.
"I'm not jumping..."
You raised an eyebrow, taking off your jacket and wrapping it around your waist, to let it cover your butt and the back of your thighs as you slide down just like him, but in a more of a sitting position. He chuckled, as you stood up and almost fell forward from the moment but he caught you, of course he did.
"You're no better than an average man." You scoffed and nudged him off playfully.
He simply snickered in response, and walked ahead of you.
"Alright, pretty. Think you can close your eyes for your average black head?"
You stared at him suspiciously, and crossed your arms.
"Alright, just look at me then."
He stepped closer, filling your entire view on purpose, as he placed his fingers around each of your wrists. You hummed in disapproval as you stared at him, and he stared right back at you. His pupils slowly expanded, as he started walking backwards, and your eyes flickered behind him.
"Ah, eyes on me."
He tapped your temple, and you looked back at his eyes almost immediately.
"If you do end up kidnapping me, it'd make for a.. very interesting documentary.."
You whispered, staring at your reflection in his own orbs. His fingertips were so soft when they trailed down your temple, and pushed back a misplaced strand of your bangs back in place, before caressing your cheek softly. He smiled quietly, didn't even respond, just walking backwards, and you following on his trail.
"Gosh, your eyes are so lovely.."
He whispered, before turning around and stepping aside, to let you see a view of the city. He did this at that timing on purpose, to leave you speechless on both ends. It was typical, of course it was a sighting scene, but wow. Those are as lovely in real life, as they are in one's head when reading a book. The awful pitch black of the sky was a pretty purple because of the stars and moon, as the gentle city lights of a busy city twinkled on the ground. The breeze was just as great, and the smell of mud and leaves was so refreshing compared to the pollution of the smoke, alcohol and sweat you smell everyday.
"O-oh wow.."
You whispered, your hand still around his. As he stared at your face for a moment, before watching his step to pull you forward, and you just stepped towards him. Something about this creepy man was just so assuring enough to allure you.
"Watch your step."
He whispered so softly, as he pulled you to a bench and sat down, untying your now dirty jacket from around your waist and tossing it at the end of the bench before patting your hip, motioning you to sit down. You blinked, looking away from the city, to meet his beautiful blue orbs, they were a lot more prettier than any city lights. You stared at the bench before sitting down, right next to him, thigh to thigh.
His smile widened when his cheeks flushed so slightly, as he took a deep breathe and threw his hands behind his head, stretching one of them behind you, as he crossed his legs.
"You... want my jacket? It doesn't seem cold, but like..."
You giggled, and huddled up to his chest, the arm behind you just barely curling up to rest on your shoulders.
"Nah, the wind's amazing."
"Yeah... thought so too.."
You two just watched the lights sparkle, cars moving, or rooms turning on and off, and what not. More than strangers, less than friends, but this comfort was like nothing before.
"Dabi, huh?"
"It's a signature name, in case ya' didn't show up." He chuckled.
You turned to him then, and he was already looking at you with a smile. His eyes scanned a triangle shape on your face, from your right eye to the left, then briefly to your lips before looking back up at your eyes.
"What's your real name then?"
"Touya Todoroki."
"Hm... Touya.."
His eyebrows barely twitched when you said his real name.
"Touya... you do look like a Touya, Touya." You patted his knee, breaking eye contact to look back at the city.
"You're gonna make me ask?"
You turned back to him again, and he was staring at you still.
"I'm (Y/N)."
He used the arm around your shoulders to lay his hand on your head, his fingers stroking your hair gently although his palm didn't touch your head.
"A pretty name for a pretty girl."
"Oh shut up, it's not as pretty as Touya."
You huffed and crossed your arms.
"But it's pretty because it's yours."
You smiled again, a flush covering your cheeks, as you stared at his lips and he stared back at yours.
"Nice to meet you, Touya."
"Pleasure's all mine."
✧˚ ༘ ⋆。˚ ✮ ⋆ ˚。𖦹 ⋆。°✩ ₊˚ʚ ᗢ₊˚✧ ゚. ˚ ༘ ೀ⋆。˚ °❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:・ ⋆⭒˚。⋆ ✧˖° ₊˚⊹ ᰔ༉‧₊˚.
the entire point of life is to be silly, kind, and really weird btw.
M E R C U R Y
Ariana Reines
✞ 666 ✞
New need unlocked
Thomas Hewitt x reader
Short Imagine
Request: Can I request thomas with an so who flirts with him very aggressively? Will say the sweetest things with an aggressive tone like “who gave you permission to be soo damn CUTE?!? The audacity to walk around lookin all smoochable”
Request sent by: Anon
Warning: Cursing
Thomas knew it wasn’t rare to see you mess around with your friends in a flirty way. In fact, he thought it was interesting, the way you would be so open and playful with everyone. What he didn’t know, though, was that it was ten times worse when you two got into a relationship. You had gone from this far away person he didn’t think would mess with him like that to someone who wouldn’t leave him alone about how attractive he was. He couldn’t see it, of course, but you never failed to remind him of how beautiful he was to you.
You started out as this bright, somewhat reserved, person to him. You didn’t play around with him and kept your hands to yourself but the moment you both became closer and finally started dating, your hands roamed his body, not in a sexual way ( sometimes ) but to grope his muscles and poke at those squishy pecs of his. It was an everyday occurrence that Thomas honestly waited for just so he could go about his day normally and it threw him a tiny bit out of whack when you didn't do it. tu
“Hey baby- GOD..DAMN!” You sent a firm slap to his ass with a devilish grin and he didn’t flinch. “Who allowed you to look this good today, my love.” You giggled, sliding under his arm that was hard at work at his work station in the basement. His movements paused to look down at you and your shining, beautiful eyes, and allowed his arm to pull you closer, loving the closeness. Your arms snaked under his apron to hug his body and send a small kiss to his chest. “Good morning.” You closed your eyes and rested your fast against his side to which his hand brushed your hair away from your eyes and rested back down on your waist. He kissed the top of your head through his mask and went back to work, your body slipping away from his own to go back upstairs with a comfortable smile. His mood was instantly lifted from that little interaction and his day was set on a good path. It was going to take a lot for something to ruin it.
It was moments like that that he really enjoyed. “Hey big boy! Looking good!” You would call out from the porch over to your man who was lugging a big bag of feed for the chicken. “Sweet baby Jesus, you’re lookin’ extra fine today, babe.” You complimented, hands squishing his cheeks to kiss his mouth over his mask. There would never be a time in his life where it would get old to him. The man loved it. It was a part of you. Something that made you YOU. Some might call it being extroverted. Others might call it weird but he didn’t think so. He thought it was a normal part of his everyday routine and he didn’t feel like breaking that routine anytime soon.