#I got all the black and white done today and next time I'll get the colors done

[genderfluidgothwitch]

I have half a tattoo!

[naeverse]

The Black Rose

🖤 staring: Tattoo Artist Miguel O’Hara x female reader

      ◽preview: 

“Let me taste what this pussy of yours is like and then I'll tattoo that rose on your gorgeous ass.”

🖤 summary: 

At The Bloody Inks, the renowned Nueva York tattoo parlor, you meet the skilled, stone-cold and attractive tattoo artist, Miguel O’Hara. Seeking a tantalizing tattoo for your rear end, Miguel isn’t hesitant to get what he wants, especially if it’s a doll like you.

◽tw/cw:  Butt Tattoo, Cunninglingus, Dirty Talk, Face-Sitting, Lip piercings Miguel,  Needles mentioned, Oral sex, Semi-public, Tattooed Miguel, etc…

🖤  Pet names: Cariño (Darling), Muñeca (Doll), Bebé (Baby)

     ◽Rating: 18+ explicit I SMUT I

 🖤 Word Count: Around 9.6K 

(I do not own any of the fanart or photos used! All credit goes to the original artist!)

(*All rights reserved. DO NOT repost/translate/copy any of my work.*)

You were used to getting tattoos, so what made this time any different?

You found yourself pondering that very question repeatedly, as you approached the renowned Nueva York tattoo parlor, 'Bloody Inks.' 

Since the age of 18, you've adorned your body with small pieces of inked art, from your ankles to your shoulders. Despite your familiarity with tattoos, today marked a departure from the norm as you contemplated getting a substantial artwork for the first time.

But that wasn't what made you nervous…

It was where you were getting it. 

You had a little bet with your friends about your next tattoo, and to your dismay, the idea of a butt tattoo became the central topic.

Secretly desiring one, you were always hesitant due to fears of pain and discomfort on such elastic tissue, the thought of undressing completely from the waist down only added to the nerves. 

Yet, here you were, opening the door to the notorious shop…

A bell rang at your arrival along with the crackle of a searing guitar and thunderous drumbeats playing from a speaker. The music’s furious tempo of punk music overwhelmed your senses as you were hit with the smell of ink and antiseptic, and a hint of sandalwood. You stepped inside, your black tennis shoes, on wooden scuffed floors as your eyes roamed the dimly lit lobby before you. 

A black leather sofa sat in one corner, a front desk before you, and a few sculptures and decorations covered the worn wooden floors. Despite everything inside, your attention was instantly captured by the gallery of designs that covered the black-brick walls of the tattoo parlor. 

There were many sketches and finished pieces that were put on display, an assortment of vibrant colors and intricate details bringing life to the lobby. Mythical creatures, mandalas, floral designs, phrases, and abstract patterns decorated the walls, each one telling a different story and waiting to be chosen and etched onto willing skin. 

The counter was empty when you arrived, a soft, dim glow of light hanging from chains on the ceiling cast an amber hue throughout the lobby. You stood patiently at the black desk, fiddling nervously with the bottom of your white t-shirt and pondering if you should go through with this tattoo…

“Oy! We have a customer!” 

The loud outburst from a male with a British accent cut through the rather quiet lobby, making you jump. Your heart was beating rapidly in your chest whilst you overheard the small conversation between the British male and who sounded like a female coming from further in the tattoo parlor. 

“Gwendy, love, I’ve been dealing with the past few customers for a while now. Why not deal with this one, hmm?” The girl responded with a scoff. 

“Hobie, you know you haven’t done shit.” 

“Ah…you got me there love.” The British guy said with a chuckle. “Well, stop playing around and help the customer.” The girl laughed as you soon heard the sound of heavy footfalls becoming louder and louder. It wasn’t long before the identity of the British male was revealed to you. 

The black curtains that separated the lobby from the back of the tattoo parlor opened to unveil an ebony guy with thick black hair and piercings. His hair was styled chaotically on his head, but you had a feeling it was purposeful with the way he carried himself. He had unmistakable confidence and not a care in the world for anyone. His hands were tucked into the pockets of his black jeans, a black t-shirt covering his lean body as his combat boots thudded against the wooden floors. 

He came behind the counter, turning his dark brown eyes upon you, instantly making you a little intimidated. “Aye, name’s Hobie, and welcome to the Bloody Inks. Are you here for a piercing or a tattoo, love?” He asked, his slender fingers locating a pen and notepad from his side of the desk. 

You chewed your inner cheek, drumming your thumb against the handle of your small bag. 

This was your last chance to back out…

To decide to go on with life without the tattoo on your rear or to face your fears and get the beautiful inking. 

It wasn’t long before you already had your answer, giving the male before you a small smile. “I’m here for a tattoo.” You said bringing a smile to Hobie’s pierced lips. He glanced down at the notepad, his pen gliding across the page. “Can I see some ID?” 

You were used to this question and already had your ID in hand, placing it into the ebony male’s palm. He barely glanced at it before returning it to you. “Nice, have you been to Bloody Ink’s before?” He asked, causing you to bite your lip nervously. 

“No, this is my first time.” He looked up at you, his pierced lips pulled back into a smirk. “Ah, great! I’ll make sure the big boss does your tattoo then.” He said with a smile, but you couldn’t help becoming a little more anxious. The boss was going to be the one giving you your tattoo. 

The tattoo on your bottom…

You gulped, hoping the male wasn’t scary-looking or a perv. 

“O-kay!” Hobie exclaimed, pulling you from your thoughts as he finished writing. “Now, I’ll give you a book to look over the designs whilst the boss finishes up in the back,” Hobie said, pulling a black, hardcover album from under the desk, placing it into your hand, then motioning for you to take a seat on the sofa. 

You followed along to his instructions, taking the black book in your hands and moving over to the leather couch where you sat down. Hobie then left, going behind the black curtains and drawing them close once more. 

To pass the time and decide upon your tattoo, you look over the many designs inside the book. Each was skillfully sketched by hand and each held their own, unique form of beauty. Your eyes glazed over blazing skulls, graceful elephants, motivating quotes, to lastly land upon a beautiful flower. 

You gasped, instinctively reaching out to trace a finger along the intricate lines of the sketch. You could already imagine the rose’s petals on your bottom, sprouting out in full bloom across your right, no… left cheek.

The circular pistil was visible and drawn so full of detail that it felt like it was jumping out at you. A few leaves could be seen peeking out the top of the rose as you felt like this design was for you.

Like it was drawing you in…

…

..

.

“Have you decided?”

A deep, husky voice asked inside of the quiet lobby. You jumped in your seat, eyes snapping up to see someone was occupying the counter…

But it wasn’t Hobie…

A tanned male with a muscular, large build was now present. Standing tall and broad, his physique showed proof of his dedication to the wellbeing of his body due to his swell and bulging muscles. His chiseled features were framed by a strong, defined jawline, a sharp nose, and dark smoldering eyes. 

His bronze skin held tattoos that were intricately etched on his skin, each design holding a mysterious story across the backs of his hands, on his arms, and even along his chest and neck. They accentuated the contours of his muscles and added even more allure to his already magnetic presence. He placed his hands on the desk, his eyes still trained on you, his taut body dressed in a mere black t-shirt, jeans, and boots, but he made such simple clothes look like it was woven by the gods. 

You didn’t know how long you’d been gawking at him in utter shock and disbelief at the magnificence before you. It wasn't until he moved once more, beckoning to you with two inked fingers that you snapped out of your trance. 

You gulped, gathered up your bag and the black album, and made your way to the counter. 

The closer you got, the more attractive and intimidating he became. His bushy eyebrows were drawn low over his amber eyes and his mouth, holding two ringed piercings on the opposite ends of his lower lip, were pulled into a scowl. 

He looked stern, but you pondered if that was just his usual look. 

“So have you decided on what piece you wanted?” He asked again, but you were still baffled by how drop-dead gorgeous he was that you almost misheard him once more. “Y-yes.” You stammered, gulping thickly, your finger still holding the page of your desired sketch. He hummed, holding his large hand out to you, motioning to the black book. You complied, placing it open into his palm, the hardcover open to the page of your tattoo choice. 

It felt relieving to not have his stern eyes on you anymore, his amber orbs looking at the sketch you’ve chosen in the book. You bit your lip nervously, eyes trained on him whilst he looked over the design before he turned his gaze back up at you. “You know that’s an ass tat, right?” He bluntly asked which made heat rise in the back of your neck.

“Y-Yes, I know.” You replied, causing his eyebrows to rise for a brief second in surprise. “Well…Okay then.” He said, closing the book and holding the page with his thumb. “I’m Miguel, I’ll be your tattoo artist for today.”

Your heart dropped at his words. 

You didn’t know to feel excited or nervous as hell, knowing he’d be the one touching you so intimately. “I-It’s nice to meet you.” You replied, giving him a small smile. His eyes lingered on you for a moment too long as he gave you a curt nod, a gesture that hopefully meant, 'You too.'

He motioned with his head to the back of the tattoo parlor, the entrance that was covered in black curtains. “Follow me.” He commanded in a gravelly tone. You gulped, following behind him through the black drapes to venture further into the tattoo parlor. 

Instantly when you entered, the smell of ink and antiseptic became more potent, the sounds of the buzzing of the tattoo guns filled your ears along with the playful banter between the two artists from before. 

“So Gwendy, you still believe just because you're in your twenties now that you can order me around?” Hobie asked the girl from across the room. She chuckled, looking away from her male client who was getting a skull tattooed onto his leg to over at Hobie. The girl had blonde, wavy hair and black piercings that covered her face. Two studs styled her eyebrow and a hooped one could be seen on her nose. 

She smirked at the ebony male. “I didn’t say anything of the sort and stop calling me that. You know my name.” She laughed, eliciting a snort from Hobie. “Aye, but I like Gwendy better than Gwen.”  

Miguel groaned in annoyance, looking between the two young artists. “Stop this nonsense and get to work.” He barked at Gwen and Hobie which surprised you, every muscle in his backside tensing up after his outburst. The conversation ceased to be replaced with just Miguel and your footsteps and the buzzing of the tattoo needles, but Miguel’s previous words didn’t seem to affect the two artists’ since after you both left, their conversation started up again. 

Miguel grumbled under his breath, his grip on the black album tightening. You walked behind him down the hallway, his tall and broad being completely blocking your view around him. Every time you looked up, you came face to face with his muscular backside that was covered in his black T-shirt that looked to be straining against his musculature. 

You clutched your purse while walking down the hallway to watch him enter a room. When you looked over, you saw a name tag on the door that read 'Miguel O'Hara.'

‘This must be his own personal tattoo room.’ 

You thought, your stomach clenching on cue as you followed him into the room. Your eyes instantly took in the attractive strangers’ workspace, the room you would also be spending the next hour or so in.

The tattoo room seemed to be more grand, more important than the one the two artists’ Gwen and Hobie were in. The walls were decorated, once more, with black and gray masterpieces of artwork, but these were more sci-fi and futuristic than the ones displayed in the lobby.

Spotlights hung from the ceiling carefully positioned to cast a focused radiance upon the vintage leather chair in the center of the room. The space smelled strongly of ink, antiseptic, men's cologne, and…

Smoke.

But not the typical smoke from a fire, more like from tobacco.

You couldn't help but wonder if the fine male smoked. You didn't want to assume or stereotype, but he looked like he would…

Your eyes soon graced over the main attraction of the room, the tattoo chair and station beside it. The seat had a black leather cushion that looked soft and very comfortable. It appeared, overall, brand new as if no one had hardly sat in it. A steel workstation was positioned beside the hot seat, the surface covered in an assortment of tools like a painter’s palette. The main one catching your eye was the needles and the gun. 

You gulped, stepping more into the room as Miguel was rummaging through a nearby closet, the sound of metal and items clattering inside. He glanced momentarily over at the flower sketch inside of the black album before returning to get the items he needed. 

You’ve learned, so far, that your tattoo artist was a rather quiet man. He barely spoke, and merely did things without providing a reason or explanation. He rummaged through the closet, next to the cabinets of a few counters and then a small chest in the room, trying to find all of the items he needed to, what you can infer, tattoo your desired choice onto your skin.

Your eyes never left him, watching his massive build transverse around the room, moving things, picking things up, putting them to the side all whilst holding an aura of unshakable coldness that dripped from his very being. 

It was intimidating, yet alluring, nonetheless. 

Once Miguel found the items he needed, he placed them onto the steel workstation. 

With the way he was going about things, you would have thought he'd forgotten about your presence; as he was completely engrossed in what he was doing, placing a piece of stencil paper that held the floral design you wanted onto the workstation, along with black ink tubes, napkins, bottles of creams and other things.

However, you couldn’t focus…

You were highly nervous. 

You stood nearby, clutching your purse whilst Miguel covered the tattoo chair with a few gray towels, before returning to organizing his workstation, and handling his tattoo gun. His thick, inked gingers deftly glided across the metal tools and inks when he finally looked up at you. You noticed his dark brown eyes roam your figure, meeting your eyes once more as he fiddled with the needles and tattoo gun. 

“Which side?” He asked suddenly, placing the gun down on the workstation. You were baffled, confused about what he meant. “W-what?” You stammered, watching him take a seat on a black rolling stool. “You want your tattoo on your bottom, correct?” He asked, causing you to nod at his question. “Then which side?” He inquired once more. 

You gulped, biting your lip. You pondered, remembering the artwork of the black rose from the album book and how beautiful it was, briefly deciding with yourself on which side. “O-On the left.” You replied after considering. 

He hummed, nodding whilst placing a pair of black latex gloves onto his table. 

“Okay, I’m going to need you to undress from the waist down and lay on your stomach.” He directed, pressing a button under the chair with his foot, causing the backing to lean back. 

Your heart quickened and your stomach clenched. This was what you were worried about… 

The undressing part.

It wasn’t that you had an unattractive body or weren’t familiar with the acts of intimacy, it was the thought of him, a handsome stranger having his stern gaze on your sensitive area. 

How he’ll have to be studying your flesh, taking in every curve and dot whilst he worked in etching the beautiful tattoo onto your rear that made you a little reluctant. 

You hesitated, clutching your purse once more. Your nervousness started to become palpable as you noticed Miguel looking up at you. He took in your tentativeness, his stern face softening at the sight. He sighed heavily, clenching his jaw as his lip piercings caught in the ceiling light.

“Are you sure about this?” His deep and rough voice filled the quiet room, his movements coming to a halt. You chewed your inner cheek, pondering his question. “Yes…I’m sure.” You replied, causing him to click his tongue. “Then what are all these nerves coming from?” He asked, crossing his arms over his broad chest. The movement seems to make his pecs more defined against the black fabric. 

“I’ve seen you aren’t new to tattoos.” He said, his amber orbs probably taking in the small, tattooed quotes and patterns covering your body in minor spots before meeting your eyes once again. “So what’s the problem?”

You sighed, meeting his eyes. 

Strangely, you felt like pouring your heart out to him.

Despite his coldness, you had a feeling whatever you told him would stay in this room…

“I’ve never got a huge piece done before.” You told him, which was partly the truth. Miguel hummed, his gaze on you intense. “That’s it?” You bit your lip anxiously once more, fiddling with the zipper of your purse. “N-No…I guess I’m nervous about…

Undressing.” 

You uttered, biting your lip. However, Miguel seemed unfazed, only nodding in understanding. 

“What’s your name?” He asked suddenly which made your eyebrows furrow. “Y-Y/N.” You hesitantly replied, bringing a tight-lipped smile to Miguel’s lips. “As you can see. Y/N, for the tattoo you’ve chosen, it’s required that you undress from the waist down.” He said, his amber eyes searching the room before landing on a decoration that sat on a counter.

He stood up, picking up the small porcelain sculpture of a gray woman’s naked body. The piece looked rather small in his massive hands. 

“You see here.” He turned the female around, pointing to the left side of the gray sculpture’s plump rear end. “This entire side will need to be revealed for me to work.” He explained, lowering his finger to point underneath the left cheek. “And the tattoo would end underneath the left buttock.” He said, setting the sculpture to the side, and turning his eyes back onto you. 

“For other tattoos, I wouldn’t have asked for such things and simply allowed you to keep your undergarments on and work from there.” His tone was gravelly and rough as he spoke to you. “But I'd like to be cautious, so I ask you to remove everything.” He informed you, which made you feel better about the process, but still wary. 

Miguel, looked you up and down, tapping his finger against his thick thigh, noticing that you were still hesitant. “How about this,” He began, his words instantly piquing your interest. “I can turn around and allow you to undress and get into a comfortable position on the chair.” He said. “I’ll even give you a towel to cover yourself with.” He proposed with a straight face. “How does that sound?” His demeanor and gravelly tone contrasted greatly with his kind and understanding words. 

You thought it over for a while before nodding at his suggestion. He rose from his seat, retrieving a black towel from the closet, and placing it onto the tattoo chair that was already covered in gray towels. He then returned to his rolling stool and turned around to face the wall. “Let me know when you are done.” He said, his voice, husky and deep.

“O-Okay.” You told him, the uncertainty, evident in your voice. Your eyes took in his muscular backside that was straining against his black t-shirt. Every bulging muscle was visible through the fabric.

You bit your lip, feeling rather odd but proceeding on. 

You closed the door of his tattoo room and set your purse down on the floor. You exhaled deeply, calming yourself down before looping your fingers into the waistband of your black shorts, slowly drawing them down, your eyes trained on him. 

Miguel was completely solid and unmoving. His arms crossed over his chest and his back still facing you. He was so quiet, that you could almost forget he was there.

Well, almost…

When the black fabric of your shorts was nothing but a puddle around your ankles, you stepped out of them, tossing them to the side. You gulped, standing in just your white shirt, black tennis shoes, and panties. You heaved a quiet sigh, chewing your inner cheek.

This was the hard part…

You were about to undress completely…

You exhaled deeply, reluctantly slipping your thumbs into the elastic band of your black panties, pulling them down, and exposing your sex to the tattoo room. You hissed, feeling the cool air against your core. Hastily, you removed them from your being, tossing them to the side along with your shorts. 

It felt so weird standing in a foreign place with your rear completely unveiled.

You wanted nothing more than to cover up…

Your eyes shifted over to Miguels’ broad backside, still in its same position. 

“Everything alright?” 

You jumped at his sudden question, his voice was thunderous compared to the total quietness that had once filled the room. “Y-y-yes.” You squeaked, swiftly moving to climb onto the tattoo chair, laying on your stomach, and placing the black towel over your bare rear to conceal yourself. 

After Miguel’s abrupt question, he didn’t say anything else, and neither did you, despite being ready. It took a while for you to tell the sexy, and rather intimidating tattoo artist that you were all set. Your heart beat rapidly in your chest every time you thought you were prepared to do so. 

You rested your chin upon the backs of your hands, laying flat on your stomach. You heaved a sigh, feeling rather ridiculous at how scared you were. 

You chose to come here, just like you chose to get this tattoo. 

‘No reason to back out now.’ You thought, wetting your lips before getting the artist’s attention. “I-I’m ready.” You muttered, causing an instant creak from Miguel’s stool to be heard.

“Good.” He uttered, the sound of the wheels from his seat gliding across the black marble flooring filling the room. You soon felt his presence to your right, seeing him in your peripherals, sitting tall and large on his stool next to you on the tattoo chair. His dark brown eyes continuously glanced over at you before roaming your body, his facial features unreadable. You couldn’t tell if he was checking you out, or was merely looking at you to see if you hadn’t fainted on his chair. 

“You seem…tense.” He commented in his usual dead tone. You looked over your shoulder at him to see his large hands attaching a black ink tube to his tattoo gun. His black tattoo arm sleeve was visible under the projecting light of the ceiling as his amber eyes were trained more on what he was doing rather than you. 

“Y-yes. I’m still a little nervous.” You confessed, feeling your hands begin to tremble slightly. Miguel looked up at you, the light bouncing off his two lip piercings on his lower lip. “If I start and your body is not relaxed it’s going to hurt like a bitch.” He said bluntly, setting his tattoo gun onto his workstation. His words didn’t help, only causing your heart to quicken in pace and freak you out even more.

Because how could you possibly calm down? 

It felt utterly impossible… 

You weren’t nervous about the needle, or getting tattooed to begin with. You were experienced when it came to the inking process. What was working the nerves was the thought of his stern gaze and calloused hands feeling up your bare bottom. His gloved thumbs pressed into your rear, his amber eyes trained on every piece of you from the waist down which was making you nervous as hell. 

Miguel eyed you, taking in your troubled expression as you lay upon his tattoo chair. Your bare bottom, covered in a black towel and your chin resting on your hands. 

“Let me relax you.” 

He abruptly said in almost a commanding voice rather than as a proposition. His suggestion made your heart skip a beat. You couldn’t help the naughty thoughts that came to your mind at the thought of him ‘relaxing’ you. 

"And h-how would you do that?" You asked, watching him rise from his stool, his imposing figure casting a shadow over you. 

"I'm going to give you a massage." 

He declared. Your eyebrows furrowed at the unexpected proposal, your entire body suddenly heating up. "I've never heard of a tattoo parlor doing something like that." You admitted, feeling him adjust the chair's height to match his towering 7-foot frame, bringing the seat up to his waist.

"That's because you've never been to the Bloody Inks before," he said, a hint of amusement found in a usual cold voice. "There's a reason we're notorious in Nueva York, Y/N " he explained. "If we did what every other parlor did, we'd be just like any other tattoo shop…

Isn’t that right?”

He whispered, his voice sending shivers down your back. “I-I guess so.” You replied as without warning you began to feel his thick fingers on your shoulders, caressing small patterns into your blades. You gasped, the feeling instantly making you melt into the chair. 

“You okay?” He asked, every touch of his thick fingers against your tensed muscles making you shudder. “Mhm.” The hum being pulled from your very being and coming out more forceful than you attended whilst Miguel continued his massage.

Miguel’s tattooed hands were large and strong, tracing the contours of your muscles and pressing gently into them. Suddenly, you winced slightly, the tension resisting his skilled touch. “Relax,” He uttered, his voice a low rumble that reverberated from the depth of his broad chest. You shakingly nodded, eyes fluttering closed at the wonderful sensations. “O-Okay. I’ll try.” You replied, trying to calm yourself. 

You shakingly exhaled, feeling Miguel’s hands move down your back, his soothing caresses focusing on the crease that began the arch of your ass. 

“Damn, there's a lot of tension here.” He commented, adding more pressure into his fingers and kneading the soft tissue in that area. You let out a contented sigh, his large hands enclosing around the sides of your waist. His thumbs pressed into your skin through the fabric of your white t-shirt, rubbing small patterns into your lower back. You groaned softly, the sensations he was bringing to you felt so good. 

His touch, mysteriousness, voice, coldness, everything about him was so hot. 

His fingers soothing places in your back that you didn’t even know existed, bringing you closer to tranquility. 

“How do you feel?” He asked, pressing and running his palm along the center of your back, making you shiver. You exhaled deeply, your limbs feeling heavy and relaxed. “Mmm, good. It feels good.” You replied with closed eyes. 

“That’s good to hear.” He said, his hands leaving your body. 

“But I can’t help but notice you are still tense.” 

Miguel said, making your eyebrows furrow as a sense of emptiness filled your being without his touch.

“W-what do you mean?” You inquired, entirely puzzled. You didn’t feel a single bit of tension in your backside. A feeling of pure relaxation filled your being, leaving you confused about what he meant by such things. 

But it wasn’t like you were skilled as a masseuse yourself, so you could be mistaken. 

“Yes, you are still tensed.” He uttered, running his fingers along the center of your backside, over the curve of your ass to rest a hand on your rear that was covered in the black towel.

 “Here, it needs my attention.” 

You were shocked and in disbelief, instantly becoming speechless; but despite your bewilderment, Miguel continued talking. “It’ll only make sense to massage where I'll be working. It’ll help loosen the muscles of your rear, making tattooing it less painful.” He explained, but it still didn’t stop the huge blush that spread across your face. You didn’t know how to respond, stuck between your own uncertainties and desires. 

“T-this will be… beneficial?” You asked shakingly, trying to push past the naughty and erotic things that were filling your head. Miguel hummed. “Yes, I’ll be tattooing your left buttock, so it’ll help make the tattoo process smoother…

For you, I mean.”

You bit your lip. The butterflies, going rampant in your stomach. You didn’t know what to do or what to say, but then the realization that he was going to have to see and touch your bottom anyway when the actual inking process began led you to put your worries to the side and agree.

“No. I don’t mind.” You said, thankful that Miguel couldn’t see how red you were due to your face being away from him. Miguel hummed, his previous touch seeming to linger upon your skin. 

“I’ll have to remove the towel. You okay with that?” He asked, which made your heart skip a beat. You shakingly exhaled, nodding. “Yes.” 

You felt him lift the black towel from your bottom, the cool air rushing over your bare rear. You sucked in a breath as before, Miguel didn’t warn you, his warm hands groping your cheeks and instantly beginning to knead the fat of your ass.

This time, the sensations were different.

On your backside, the massage was more relaxing and tranquil, but on your rear, it felt more personal, more…

Intimate. 

His touch made you feel pleasure beyond anything…

You bit your bottom lip harshly, trying to muffle the erotic cries that wished to escape whilst Miguel’s calloused hands worked wonders on your rear. His fingers pressed firmly into your left cheek, squeezing the fat before moving along the sides. It was a process that you pondered if it was professional or not, but it wasn’t like you cared.

His fingers knead into your soft flesh, like dough, making you see stars every single time. You were slowly becoming wet, your arousal spilling from your exposed sex to gradually coat your thighs and drench the gray towels underneath you.

The massage was good. 

Dangerously too good…

A sudden moan broke free, filling the tattoo room when he roughly groped both of your cheeks in his large hands, spreading them apart. You instantly blushed horribly, embarrassed beyond anything. 

“O-Oh my gosh, I-I’m so sorry.” You briskly replied, wanting nothing more than to hide. You didn’t know how the hell Miguel would react. 

Would he cease his wonderful massage?

Tell you to leave?

Would things get hella awkward now?

You felt like a complete idiot, mentally facepalming yourself for giving into the pleasure of a total stranger. 

But to your surprise, Miguel did something you weren’t expecting. 

He chuckled. 

For the first time since you met the menacing and large Latino artist, he showed an emotion that didn’t make you feel so freaking intimidated. The sound of the small, deep laughter that passed his lips was honestly breathtaking, and you wanted nothing more than to hear it again. 

“No need to apologize.” He replied, drawing your attention back to him and his wonderful massage. His touch on your rear became more soft and gentle like he was taking his time with you. 

“It just shows I’m providing you what your body needs.” He replied, moving his hands onto your thighs, caressing them with his thumbs before running his hands up to fully cup your asscheeks into his hands. You moaned softly, your body instinctively arching up into his waiting palms. Miguel snickered, giving your ass another squeeze when everything stopped. 

His movement on your rear ceased, his small laughs, movement, everything! 

You lay there, waiting for anything to happen when you suddenly felt his pierced lips against your ear. 

“Let’s drop the act, Cariño.” 

He whispered, his breath warm on your face and his piercings, cold against your skin. Your heart dropped, and your body instantly became hot.

 You tried to speak, to deny what he was saying, but your quivering lips wouldn’t form the words. 

He snickered at your speechlessness and how flustered you were, the sound sending tingles throughout your entire being and going straight to your throbbing core. 

“Let me relax you how we both desire, Y/N.” 

He hummed, resuming his touch on your rear, but this time it was different. It was purposefully more erotic. He gave your bottom a sensual squeeze with one hand, his other moving up to stroke your hair. 

You couldn’t believe this was happening. 

It felt surreal. 

Something you'll fantasize about your sexy tattooist…

But Miguel’s fingers running through your hair, massaging your scalp whilst continuing to tease and knead your right asscheek with his fingers made you think otherwise. 

You were speechless yet again. You didn’t know how to respond, but your body was doing the speaking for you. 

Your juices dripping down your thighs and soaking the gray towels under you, spoke volumes on its own. You shakingly exhaled, trying to calm your excitement.

Miguel chuckled, his fingers continuing their tantalizing play on your rear, tempting and taunting you to give in to the sexy artist. 

You bit your lip harshly, eyes fluttering as he, teasingly, brushed his thumb across your slick folds. You gasped at his attempt to entice you more.

“Mmm, you are soaking, Muneca.” He growled against your ear, his lip rings brushing your lobe and making you shudder. He sucked in a breath, running his fingers up and down your slick folds, coating his digits in your never-ending arousal. He groaned at your wetness, cupping your mound, to circle his two fingers around your sensitive bud. You moaned helplessly, trembling with pleasure.

“Muneca, you want this, just as much as I do.” He uttered, pressing his fingers more against your throbbing bud, eliciting a cry to escape your lips and making you wetter. 

“Let me relax you.” He whispered, his deep voice filled with desire as he removed his hands to place them on your hips, caressing gentle circles against your sides.

“Let me taste what this pussy of yours is like and then I'll tattoo that rose on your gorgeous ass.”

He proposed once again. His words alone made your stomach clench in want. The gray towels underneath you completely soak with your arousal. 

You couldn't stop yourself. The desire blinded you as your head slowly nods at his erotic proposition. 

“P-Please.” You practically begged; voice tainted with desperation for more of him. You felt his pierced lips pull into a smirk against your ear.

“Good girl, Y/N.” He praised, nipping softly at your ear before pulling away. His touch left you cold and empty.

“On your knees. Ass up.”

He commanded, his coldness resurfacing right before your eyes. His sternness was even more attractive and made your core throb in anticipation.

You bit your lip, lust blinding your every action, thought, and word as you rose on the tattoo chair. As he instructed, you stood up on your knees and forearms with your ass thrust up into the air. 

The cool air continuously brushed along your heated core, making your breathing hitch every time. The position gave him a full display of your wet folds and the gradual drip of your arousal down your thighs. The sight alone revealed your evident desire for him which made you excited, but also ashamed. 

This sexy stranger was intimidating, scary, and someone you would, normally, never align yourself with. 

So what was different about him that had you practically soaking his chair? 

In your peripherals, you saw Miguel move. The mere motion snapped you out of your thoughts as his massive being disappeared from view. Instantly, you became anxious, oblivious to his next actions.

A sexy groan escaped his lips, feeling his amber eyes trained on your exposed sensitive area. “That's a pretty pussy you got that.” He purred, making you blush horribly. You buried your face into your inner elbow, embarrassed for liking the compliment from someone as sexy as him.

Miguel chuckled. “Does someone like my praises? You are a naughty one, Cariño.” 

He snickered. Your face, reddening even more. His fingers continued their dance along the skin of your ass, your breathing becoming more shaky and your body burning hot. 

His words and touch alone were enough to make you lose control. Beads of your essence running down your thighs. 

“Cariño, I've only known you for about 30 minutes, yet, there is something about you that fascinates me. Something that I love so very fucking much….

Want to know what that is?”

He asked, his voice deep and husky, yet sending a shiver down your spine; his fingers ghosting along your skin. “Y-Yes.” You shakingly inquired, curious about his answer, but also anxious for him to cease his teasing and touch you.

He chuckled at your cluelessness, running his nails along your bare rear making you shiver. 

“I love that despite your obvious hesitance and, dare I say, fear, you give into your wants, Muñeca 

Your desires.”  

He uttered, the pads of his fingers barely touching you, but forming goosebumps, everywhere along your skin. 

“I-I don't understand.” You breathlessly and honestly replied, trying your hardest to look over your shoulder at the large male but failing every time. 

“You don't understand, bebé?” He purred, his fingers leaving your bottom. “Then let me turn those gears in that sexy head of yours.” He whispered, his heavy footfalls slowly walking to stand in front of you. You gulped, glancing up to see him right before you, the growing bulge in his black jeans being the main attraction. 

“You come into my shop for an ass tat, yet you were nervous as hell to get it.” He acknowledged. “But despite your nerves, here you are on my chair with that sexy ass all ready for me." He said with a smirk. His hand moved to run through your hair, massaging your scalp with the pads of his fingers once more. 

Your eyes fluttered, sinking more into the soft leather, your rear rising. “And even now, I intimidate you, don't I, Cariño?” He asked, his male cologne and the faint scent of cigarette smoke filling your nose, increasing your desire for him.

Regardless of your lust, Miguel did intimidate you. His massive body, bulging muscles, stern-drawn face, tattoos, lip rings, and cold aura made you nervous around him. 

That you couldn't lie about... 

“Y-yes. You do.” You confessed, eliciting a deep hum from Miguel. “Yet, you are giving yourself to me.” He whispered, moving his hand from your hair to take your chin into his calloused fingers. He turned you to look up at him, your eyes darting to take in his chiseled cheeks, massive neck tattoo, enticing rings on his plush lips, smoldering amber eyes, and dark brown hair that loomed over his eyes.  

He smirked, his canines peeking out from his lips. “You are delivering yourself to me on a silver platter, Y/N.” He rasped, caressing your chin and holding your stunned gaze before pulling away. You were left breathless, gasping for air, you didn't know you were holding. 

You tried to track him, his huge, menacing form returning behind you and out of your sight. “So love, despite your worries, reluctance, and inner thoughts telling you to stop and turn back. 

If you desire something, you go through with it...” 

Your eyebrows furrowed. You wondered if Miguel's observation of you was correct. 

Were you the type to follow your desires, even though everything in you was telling you otherwise? 

You pondered, if the sexy stranger was right, despite only knowing you for a short time. 

But that thought soon became nothing but mush in your brain when his sudden grip on your asscheeks made your entire mind go blank. As if dipped in warmth, your body instantly melted like chocolate under his fingertips, a soft moan escaping your lips.

Miguel hummed, his breath brushing along your heated core, only making you wetter. 

“And I love a woman that knows what she wants,” He uttered, pressing a kiss to your left ass cheek, making you gasp, 

“What she needs…” He whispered, pressing another kiss to your other eliciting another soft moan from you.

“I can tell you are going to be tasty…” 

He rasped before finally giving you what you desired and swiping his tongue along your folds. 

You cried out, slumping against the tattoo chair whilst Miguel licked at your rear. He groaned, squeezing your ass and pressing his face more into your bottom, licking, sucking and completely devouring you. 

You moaned uncontrollably, gripping the leather seat tightly. “O-Oh gosh.” You whimpered as Miguel continued his pleasurable assault, running his skillful hands up and down your spine, brushing your shirt up to feel more of your skin. You were becoming hot and increasingly wet, your love juices spilling from your entrance to be swallowed by Miguel’s eager mouth. 

With every suction of his lips and the swipe of his tongue, it made your mind complete mush, time and space becoming non-existent. “So delicious, Muñeca.” He groaned, sloppily ravaging your core, and fucking you with his tongue. 

The tattoo room was filled with your whines and whimpers, Miguel’s low groans, and the squelching of your wet pussy. Your entire body was clenching and squirming the closer you got to that sweet end. 

Like his hands, Miguel’s mouth worked wonders on you. His tongue moved rapidly across your pussy, seeming to be everywhere at once. Swirling your throbbing bud, thrusting into your entrance, and lapping your delicate pussy lips. a

When it came too much to bear, Miguel held you close, preventing you from moving away from him. It only made you tremble, the pleasure consuming your entire being.

“M-Miguel, I-I’m close.” You cried out, pressing your face into the tattoo chair. He hummed, the vibrations rumbling through you and making your stomach tighten even more. “You want to cum, pretty girl?” He chuckled, moving from your desired spot to kiss along the skin of your bottom. His hooped, lip rings brushed along the skin of your ass and made you even more wetter. 

You moaned softly, frantically nodding. “Yes, yes. Please, Miguel.” You whined, wanting him to bring you to your release. You felt his pierced lips pull into a smirk. He pressed a kiss to your right cheek before returning his skilled mouth to your puffy pussy lips once more. 

You gasped loudly, his tongue darting erratically along your dripping folds. The feeling was more extreme than ever before as he continued, tugging and lapping at your sweet pussy. 

You were so wet, your thighs dripping with your arousal like a relentless rain, its non-stop downpour completely soaking your legs and the gray towels underneath you. You gritted your teeth, the burning in the pit of your stomach becoming too much to bear, begging for a release. 

Everything felt so good, you wanted to hold on, to feel more of Miguel’s tongue and hands that roamed your body, caressing you in ways that increased the pleasure by 10-fold; 

But you just couldn’t…

With a loud cry, you climaxed hard onto his waiting mouth. Your vision saw white, eyes rolling as your sticky juices covered his pierced lips and ran down your legs. Miguel groaned in pleasure, gripping your cheeks harshly, widening you and licking you clean, whispering, 'So good. Such a good girl for me,’ over and over again. 

It was like music to your ears. 

Your eyes fluttered as he finished; tugging away from your pussy lips with a wet plop. You were dazed, falling flat against the tattoo chair, and trying to calm your breathing and come down from your epic high. 

Faintly, you could hear Miguel’s boots against the black marble flooring, moving around to stand beside you, coming into view once more. 

With glazed eyes, you looked over at him, breathing heavily. His chin and pierced lips were completely covered in your arousal. Like a king who had just feasted on a buffet fit for royalty, he used his fingers to wipe it off in satisfaction. “So delicious, Muñeca.” He praised again with a smirk. Your entire body and face flushed at his erotic compliment. You were speechless, not at all knowing how to respond.

For a moment you just stared up at him, still trying to figure out if what just happened, happened. 

His amber eyes roamed over your form once more, lingering on your bare rear longer than anything else. He growled, stepping closer once more. “But don’t think we’re done here, Muñeca.”

“I want more. 

Just one more taste” 

He uttered, the words surprising you, but not as surprising as what he did next… 

Everything was a blur, his large being moved so quickly it was hard to follow, especially in your dazed state. 

You soon found him underneath you on the tattoo chair, his massive body laying under you and your puffy pussy lips right over his waiting mouth. His large hands roughly groping your rear, and holding you tightly in place.

Certainly, you wouldn't be able to get out of his hold, even if you tried. 

You gulped, staring down at him between your thighs in shock. Your mind, not keeping up fast enough. “M-Miguel, w-what-” 

“Let me relax you, chica.” 

He cut you off, gripping your ass in his large, inked hands and pushing you down onto his mouth once more. You cried out, his mouth even more intense than ever. 

Your eyes fluttered and rolled as his tongue circled your clit, teasingly applying more pressure and making you whine. Your fingers, instinctively, found his dark brown hair, gripping and tugging at the chocolate strands and making Miguel groan. 

He caressed your bottom with his large, calloused hands, sucking at your sensitive bud with his hot, wet mouth, expertly flicking it. You moaned helplessly. “M-Miguel, g-gosh. It feels so good.” You cried out, instinctively, grinding your hips against his mouth, chasing another steady rising climax. Miguel's eyes fluttered close, savoring your taste on his tongue as he lapped and sucked at your sticky folds.

Your breathing quickened, his piercings grazing against your sensitive skin with every lap of his tongue against your entrance. You were slowly losing it, feeling him gradually ease his tongue inside of you before thrusting you repeatedly with the wet muscle.

You moaned loudly, rutting your hips and continuously brushing his nose into your clit, his tongue continuing its torment. A strangled moan erupted from your throat, the pleasure becoming too much. You shook uncontrollably, gripping his hair tightly and squirming on his mouth.

“A-Ahh, Miguel, I-I can’t-” You tried moving off, but Miguel firmly held you down on his mouth, his tongue, darting in and out of your entrance, fucking you with his warm, wet muscle. 

The familiar feeling of scorching heat began to rise in your stomach. You gritted your teeth, his metal ringed, lip piercings brushing against your pussy lips with each suckle. He reached around, parting your lips and sticking his tongue deeply into your opening, messily lapping and sucking you.

Your love juices soaked his lips and chin to be sloppily devoured by Miguel. The room was filled with the erotic sounds of your pussy’s squelches. Silent moans passed your lips, as your head limply fell back to be caught by Miguel’s large hand. 

He took your chin in his tattooed finger, pulling you back down towards him. He moved his mouth from your heated core as his intense dark eyes met yours. “I want your eyes on me.” He said, his breathing rather stable, despite almost drowning in your pussy for what felt like an hour. His tattooed hand caressed your thighs, his eyes never leaving yours.

“I want to see you cum, Muñeca .” He whispered, pressing kisses along your inner thighs and nipping softly. You bit your lip, a soft moan passing your lips at his pecks. You weakly nodded, almost completely dazed. 

He smirked, pressing a long searing kiss to your thigh. “Hmm, good girl.” He uttered parting your pussy lips with two thick fingers and attacking your swollen clit once more. It took everything in you to keep his intense gaze. His dark brown eyes stared intently back at you whilst his tongue and lips moved in a frenzy along your pussy. 

Your body trembled horribly, fingers gripping his hair tightly to stabilize yourself. 

“M-Miguel.” You whined his name over and over again. The desire to tell him of your reached peak was on the tip of your tongue, but the pleasure was too overwhelming; leaving you unable to say such a thing as your release unexpectedly slammed into you. 

With a loud strangled moan, you orgasmed for the second time. 

Your body shook uncontrollably as your thighs squeezed around Miguel tightly. Your juices gushed out onto his eager mouth whilst a sensation of pure bliss sprouted throughout your being.  

Your eyes rolled as silent and breathy moans busted from the depth of your chest. Miguel didn’t cease his torment, continuing to suckle on your puffy pussy lips, swallowing all of your sweet nectar. His lips and chin were completely drenched in a mixture of saliva and your love juices, but it didn’t seem as if the massive tattooist cared.

Until he was satisfied, Miguel continued to slurp messily at you. You were highly sensitive, squirming on his mouth and whimpering uncontrollably as he held you down with a firm grip on your thighs. When his thirst was satiated, you were relieved to hear a deep hum of delight escape his glistening lips and soon feel him effortlessly lift you from his mouth to rest your bare bottom on his clothed chest. 

You were breathing heavily, trying to catch your breath. When you finally came down from your high, you glanced up to see his dark eyes peering back at you. His gaze was intense and stern as always, but your attention instantly went down to his mouth and the mess you’ve made upon it.

His tanned lips and piercings glistened with your arousal. Your essence dripping down to coat the entirety of his chin. Your entire face burned up at the sight.

“Oh my gosh, I’m s-so sorry.” You hastily apologized, still a little jittery from your explosive orgasm. You reached over to grab the black towel that was left discarded on his stool to try to clean him up.

“Don’t.” 

He simply stated, capturing your wrist in his large hand to halt your movement. Your eyebrows furrowed, watching him take the towel from you and toss it to the side.

You were confused, your eyes taking in his mouth and chin that was still covered in your juices. His pierced lips pulled into a smirk, his hands moving to caress your bare ass.

“I want to taste all of it, Muñeca. I'm not letting none of you go to waste…”

For the next hour or so, the room was filled with the buzzing of a tattoo gun and Miguel’s deep voice occasionally trying to soothe you.

“Beautiful Muñeca. You are doing well.” 

“I promise you, this rose will look good on you when I’m done.” 

“Just a little longer, I’m almost finished.”

He whispered, his gloved fingers pressing into your flesh as he applied the last finishing strokes of black ink onto the rose on your rear. You bit your lip harshly, gripping the leather cushion when finally, the buzzing of the tattoo gun ceased. The needle, no longer, harshly pricking of your sensitive skin.

“I’m finished, Muñeca.” He said, placing the gun to the side and soothingly, caressing your waist. You exhaled a sigh of relief, your eyes a little teary. 

“You did well, Cariño.” He praised once more, proceeding to clean the tattoo, applying an antiseptic ointment and covering it, all whilst speaking to you.

“Although, you’ve surprised me.” He said with a chuckle. “I thought you’d become a crying little mess on my chair.” He teased, making the two of you laugh. “I won’t lie, I thought so too.” You confessed, feeling him finish up putting a protective sterile bandage over your freshly inked tattoo. 

“I wouldn’t have let that happen on my watch.” He said with a smirk, motioning to you with a finger for you to stand up. “Carefully.” He sternly said, giving you a pointed look. His voice had its usual coldness but also held a hint of affection in his tone. 

That maybe the sexy tattooist might actually care about you.

You gave him a small smile, watching him begin to pack up his tattoo items and place them back into his closet. You followed Miguel’s words, cautiously rising up and off of the chair. You winced softly, your left cheek a little sore. 

You walked over to the body mirror in Miguel’s tattoo room, turning around to admire the fresh inking on your rear through its sterile bandage.

It was beautiful…

Just like you thought.

The black rose was wonderfully sketched and etched onto your rear end. Its petals, pistils, and leaves, were all defined perfectly and coated the entirety of your left cheek. 

You couldn’t stop looking at it, finding something else about it that you loved. 

Large hands settled on your waist, snapping your attention from your tattooed bottom to up at the hot male through the mirror. He smirked, meeting your gaze through the glass. “It’s sexy, isn’t it?” He asked, caressing your sides as you smiled, nodding. 

“You did really well, Miguel.” You complimented, both of your eyes, taking in the intricate linings of the rose on your rear. “I’m happy you like it.” He said, cupping your chin in his fingers to turn you to look up at him.

“But make sure you properly treat it every day. I’ll send you a list of aftercare instructions.” He said, his amber eyes taking in your face whilst he spoke. You bit your lip, nodding. “I will.” You replied. He smirked, glancing down at your lips before meeting your eyes once more. 

“Good, now kiss me.” He said in his cold tone, but his amber eyes held a look of fondness in them. You smiled, cupping his face in your hands and leaning in to press your lips against his.

You moaned softly upon the impact, his metal lip rings, smooth and cold, only making the kiss even hotter. You passionately kissed his lips, savoring the feeling of his lip rings and the taste of his plush lips against your own. 

When the two of you pulled away, breathing heavily from the heated exchange, he smirked, squeezing your waist before stepping back. “I hate to tell you this, but I have a client in the next 10 minutes.” He said, crossing his arms over his chest. “But I’ll see you next time, Muñeca, for your check-up.” He smirked, handing you a business card with his contacts and the address of the Bloody Inks on it. 

You smiled, taking the card from him, your hands touching during the small interaction that sent a spark straight through your being. 

You couldn’t help but wonder if Miguel felt it too…

There was an unmistakable pull that was drawing you towards him. You didn’t want to leave him, despite only meeting him that day. 

The desire to snuggle up in his muscular arms, to feel his touch on you once more was overwhelming, but he was right. 

It was time for you to depart…

So after carefully getting dressed back into your panties and black shorts, you pressed one final kiss upon the sexy tattooist’s pierced lips. The kiss oddly felt unending, but not long enough when you finally pulled away from each other, leaving you, even more, hungrier for him than before.

You exited out of his room, walking through the tattoo space of the shared artists of Gwen and Hobie who thanked you for coming, to then leave the tattoo parlor altogether. 

You walked down the sidewalk, feeling like a completely different person. You twirled the business card that Miguel gave you in between your fingers. A feeling of bursting adoration for the beautiful inking that adorned your left cheek, knowing it was created by the sexy tattooist. 

To you, the stunning piece of art wasn’t just a tattoo. 

No…

It was the marking of a memory of a day when a serious, cold, sexy, and dedicated artist came into your life, revealing a different side of yourself- a daring, more confident side that would forever be engraved in your mind. 

As you walked away, you couldn’t help but feel excited to see the sexy tattooist again, anxious for all the fun you and Miguel would get up to on your next visit to the Bloody Inks…

A/N: I hope you guys enjoyed 'The Black Rose.' Make sure to like, comment, follow, and reblog!! Love you guys!

<3 Taglist:

@oscarissac2099 @powerful-niya @szapizzapanda @mcmiracles @mreowmoreww @thedevax @jadeloverxd @lazyotakuofficial @migueloharacumslut @nattywattyy @homewreckingwreck @kinkybandages

(*All rights reserved. DO NOT repost/translate/copy any of my work.*)

[hanniebaeee]

One rainy night

Brother's best friend Seungmin x fem!reader

Warnings: Kissing and touching MDNI

Genre: Friends to lovers, fluff

Summary: One rainy night, you stop resisting. And that rainy night, you realize some things can't be kept waiting.

You were pouring some coffee into a mug when you heard urgent footsteps moving in and out of the living room. It was just around 7:30 am and you were just out of bed. Your hair was in a messy bun and your eyes two tiny sleepy slits. You take your coffee to the sofa next to the window and sit down, cosy and warm under a fluffy throw blanket.

Then you see him out again, looking incredibly stressed. His was dressed in formals - a nice white shirt and black trousers, so well fitted on him. But his hair was a mess and his face was a shade of pink.

This was not normal Seungmin behavior as he was one of the calmest most composed people you knew. He always had his shit together, no matter what the situation. He was that strong silent type - not so much when he got together with your brother - yet, he'll intimidate you into feeling like a silly goose with just a look.

You watch him silently as he scurried around, looking so flustered and muttering under his breath. Too much anxiety for this early in the morning. A minute later, your younger brother Jeongin joins you on the couch and says, 'Hey, do you know how to sew a button?'

'Hm?' You asked, 'Is that what he's so worried about?'

'Yeah, we have to leave for the conference in an less than an hour and he wants to wear that shirt. Can you help?' Jeongin asked.

'Ok.' You said, leaving your cosy spot to go find the thread and needle. When you're back, the boys are talking and Seungmin looks up at you.

'Go on.' Jeongin said, giving Seungmin a little shove and the latter approached you with pink cheeks.

'Do I need to take it off?' He asked, clearing his throat.

'No no, I'll be quick.' You said, stepping closer and starting your work.

Seungmin felt his heart beating so fast as he watched you sew the button back on, your bottom lip caught between your teeth. He had to control his urge to just bend down and kiss you. You were just so pretty. The morning sun had your bare skin glowing and with your silly Scooby Doo pyjamas and your messy hair - Seungmin watched in silence as you were so...you.

You feel his heartbeats against your hand resting on his chest as you sewed the button to his shirt. He was so warm. You sneak a glance up and see that he was watching you, with a little smile on his face. As soon as Jeongin left the room, you tell him, 'Don't look at me like that.'

'I'm not doing anything.' Seungmin said, and you felt his hand land on your hip, pulling you flush against his body, his fingers squeezing ever so gently. You swallow nervously, and your hands tremble a bit.

'I hope your talk goes well.' You said.

'Thank you, baby.' Seungmin said, his voice low.

Your body was pressed to his and his warm breath fell on your face. His hand on your hip slipped to your lower back, holding you close.

Putting in the final knot, you cut the remaining thread and step away from him.

'All done.' You announce, patting the button with a smile.

'Thank you Y/N.' He said, nodding as Jeongin came, dressed and ready as well.

'No problem.' You said and walked back to your seat to finish your coffee.

Jeongin patted his friend on the shoulder and told him that they should get going if he wanted to get to the conference in time.

Y/N: Innie, I'm on my way to Dani's

Y/N: See you in the evening

Innie: Ok, let me know when you get there

Innie: stay safe and I'll text you the time

Y/N: 👍

You take the train to your friend's place and spend the day with her. It was somewhat close to the conference venue, so the boys would pick you up on their way back home.

Seungseung: See you in the evening baby, have fun today❤

You stare at his text and feel your heart flutter. Being your brother's best friend, Seungmin has been a constant presence in your life. He had been very open about how he felt about you right from the start, but neither of you ever took a step, mostly since Jeongin was very protective over you. Even though he was the baby brother (by a couple of years) he tended to act like the older one. And he had warned Seungmin against any funny business, because he would tolerate anything but not seeing you heart broken.

You had tried to ignore his adoring looks or flirty banter most of the time, but recently, it's been getting harder and harder. You were all adults now, Seungmin has always been serious about how he felt and he had you falling apart with just a look.

You take in a deep breath and type in a reply.

Y/N: Thank you Minnie, you have a good day too❤

Seungmin smirked at your response. Jeongin was typing into his laptop, getting ready for their presentation and all Seungmin could think of was how cute you looked as you mended his shirt. It had been a simple thing, but his heart was stuck on how nice it would be - you doing simple wifey things for him.

He blushed, and quickly tried to get back to his work, taking his mind off you.

You had a nice day with your friend. You and Dani had met in college and now worked in two different cities. You tried to meet up every now and then to catch up. Museum outings, browsing through bookshops, munching on little treats from pretty little bakeries. What a fun and relaxing day this had been. But as the day went on, it got cloudier and colder.

'Just stay the night, Y/N.' Dani said, not understanding why you were so adamant to go back home.

'I know Dani. But I have to get back home. I told you I was working on something.' You press, and Dani just sighed.

'Ok, whatever. You win.' She said, pouting. 'This is about Seungmin isn't it?'

'What? Why would you say that?' You asked, cheeks colouring at your friend's accusation.

'Because I'm your best friend and I can read your mind.' Dani said with a shrug. 'Besides, he's such a cutie, I'll be so happy for you.'

'There is nothing going on, ok?' You aid quickly.

'Aha. Ok.' Dani mocked you, shaking her head. 'Darling, you can lie to yourself. Not to me, ok?'

'Danii!!' You whine. 'Stop it!'

'He's coming to get you, isn't it?'

'So is Jeongin. They're both coming.' You said.

'Mhm.' Dani nodded, laughing.

'I don't even know what you're trying to do right now.' You said, looking away.

'Y/N. I know you. I know when you're being stupid. So tell me what the problem is.' Dani said.

'He's Innie's best friend, Dani. I just can't mess that up.' You said sadly. 'I won't be able to live with it if I'm ever the cause of a problem between them.'

'Baby, sometimes you should think about yourself too. Innie's a big boy. He'll handle it. Ok?' Dani said, touching your hand.

You just put your head in your hands, sighing.

Just as you had predicted, it was raining by the time Dani left and you sat at the bus stop, waiting for the boys. You check your phone and find a text from Jeongin that had you sighing again.

Innie: I'm so sorry, I'll have to stay back, but Min will come and get you ok?

Innie: Im so so sorry noona

Innie: You two get home safe ok? Call me if there's anything

You think about the long ride back home. Alone. With Seungmin. In this rain. Oh.

Y/N: Ok Innie. See you tomorrow.

The rain got heavier and even with the umbrella, you were drenched. The wetness spreads through your simple jacket and clothes, and you are so cold. Your teeth chatter and you send Seungmin a text, asking where he was. Just as you lift your head from your phone, you see Seungmin and you are so relieved, you want to cry.

You quickly get in and he's staring at you for a moment, then he's angry. He takes in your drenched form and said, 'You could've waited somewhere safe, Y/N. Why the hell would you -'

'I didn't think it would rain so much. Then it felt stupid to walk all the way to a cafe or something.' You said in a small voice, feeling a bit embarrassed.

He started driving, silent for a while. Then he turned to you and said, 'Get those clothes off, now. It's a long drive home, you'll fall sick for sure.'

Seeing you shivering, he reaches forward to turn up the heating. But you are just so soaked, it hardly helps.

'Get to the back, and get them off. You can wear my jacket, it'll keep you warm.' He said, glaring at you as you try to make up your mind.

'Why are you mad at me?' You asked.

'I'm not mad, Y/N.' Snapped, Seungmin, throwing you a look. 'You're being silly. Now go.'

'Fine. Don't look.' You said, climbing over to the back seat.

Your eyes meet in the mirror as you start peeling off your wet clothes. He looks away quickly. And then, when your jacket,shirt and jeans are all gone, you saw him looking again.

'I said not to look, Seungmin.' You said, giving him a pointed look.

'I'm driving.' He said, not paying you any attention.

But then, your eyes meet. Again.

'If you just wanted me to strip for you, you should've just asked.' You snap, angry, yet weirdly turned on by it.

'Ok, then, strip for me.' Seungmin snapped back at you.

'Stop the car.' You said.

Seungmin looked at you, narrowing his eyes.

'I said, stop the fucking car, Seungmin.' You said again, loudly.

'Y/N, what-'

'Stop the car and get back here.' You said and his heart stops for a minute. 'I want to talk.'

He looks at you for confirmation that you weren't joking, before looking for a safe spot to park the car. When he does, he climbs to the back and sits next to you.

'I'm here.' Seungmin said as he watched you get rid of the final pieces of wet clothing. 'Jeongin would murder me, if he knew.'

'Innie will have to understand that he can't decide what I want in life.' You said, pulling on his jacket.

'What do you want, Y/N?' Seungmin asked, his breath quickening.

'You. I want you.'

Seungmin closed his eyes for a moment, trying to gather his thoughts. Then he leaned towards you, placing a kiss on your lips. You put your arms around his neck, pulling him towards you. His hands slip into the jacket you were wearing, and around your waist.

He kissed your jaw and neck and collarbones - warm, open mouthed kisses. His hands slide down your hips, over thighs, before they settle on your hips again.

'Y/N.' He mumbled against your soft skin.

'Hmm.' you hum, your fingers in his hair.

'I love you.' He said. And there was a small pause before you smiled and said, 'I love you too Minnie.'

You felt his smile on your skin, and he buried his face in the crook of your neck. He is looking at you again with a soft smile on his puppy face.

'Really?' He asked. 'You do?'

You laugh, blushing.

'Yeaaah.' You said, making him laugh too.

'Let's go home and tell Jeongin.' Seungmin said. 'And then, I wanna fuck you in peace.'

You just look at him with raised eyebrows.

'What? If not I'll be too stressed.' Seungmin said.

You laugh, and he runs his fingers along your hip bone, making you squirm.

'Yeah. Let's talk to Innie first.'

'Ok. I love you, baby.'

'I love you too, Minnie.'

Jeongin was just up after a nap, and walked into the kitchen to see you and Seungmin cooking dinner. There was a comfortable silence in the room and he stood leaning against the doorframe, watching you both.

Seungmin was chopping some veggies and you were stirring something in a pot. Jeongin raised his eyebrows as he saw Seungmin lean forward to place a quick kiss on your cheek.

You just smile and then, you turn around and scream.

'Oh my God, Innie!' You said, placing a hand against your chest. 'What are you doing standing there like that?'

'Oh I'm the sneaky one now?' Jeongin asked, making you blush.

Seungmin just smirked, dropping the chopped veggies into the pot. You study your brother's face for a minute before turning to look at Seungmin.

'You told him? You told him and you didn't tell me??' You glare at Seungmin.

'What? He's my best friend, of course, we talk.' Seungmin said, coming over to put an arm around you. 'Besides, he's ok with us.'

'But I wanted to tell him!' You said.

'Ok, tell me then.' Jeongin said, taking a seat at the dining table. Placing his chin in his hand, he looked at you expectantly.

Seungmin laughed, returning to the hob to stir the contents of the pot.

'What can I say now?' You said, blushing.

Jeongin laughed, coming over to you.

'Just so you know, I'm happy for you both.' He said, putting his arms around you. 'I always thought you two would end up together.'

'Don't make me cry now.' You mutter, hugging your brother tightly.

Jeongin kissed the top of your head and ruffled your hair fondly.

Your eyes meet Seungmin's over Jeongin's shoulder and he winks at you. You smile, burying your face in your brother's shoulder.

'You better take care of my noona.' Jeongin said, pointing a finger at Seungmin.

He just grinned and said, 'Gonna just smother her will all my love.'

Jeongin laughed with Seungmin and you had the weirdest realization.

'Innie, why did you have to stay back yesterday?' You asked and he was clearly not expecting that question. His eyes met Seungmin's and he looked flustered for a moment.

'You planned this didn't you? You knew all this time?' You asked, pinching his ear.

'Owww! I'm not blind noona, of course I knew you two liked each other. I've known about him for years now, but I caught on with you only a couple of years ago!' Jeongin squealed. 'Let go, let go, let gooooooo!'

'Oh my God! I hate you both!'

'Well, too bad for you, you're stuck with us forever now!' Seungmin said, grinning like the Cheshire Cat.

You sigh, but smile nevertheless.

[goldenamaranthe-blog]

Jazzercise!: Hazbin Hotel

Buckle up, Buttercups! This one's long.

Charlie: (wearing a pair of pink leggings, rainbow sneakers, white exercise t-shirt, and a red sweatband around her head) Alright, Everyone! Today, we're going to be doing some team bonding exercises throoooough- Da-Dada-Daaaaaah! -Exercise!!!

Hazbins: (all groan in dismay and grumble and clamor in annoyance)

Angel: (wearing powder pink leg warmers and neon green leotard that looks like it came out of an 80s) Is there any way we can sit this out? Some of us are hungover.

Vaggie: (wearing a black and purple sports bra and black spandex shorts that cut off halfway down her thighs, hair tied up in a ponytail) Still? We celebrated the hotel's grand reopening last week.

Husker: (wearing your stereotypical gym teacher windbreaker pants but no shirt or jacket) The empty liquor wall at the bar will verify.

Lucifer: (magically appears wearing a pair of bright red, men's booty workout shorts from the 70s, white Dad sneakers with tall red socks, and a white and red sleeveless shirt tucked into the shorts) Well, I'm all for a little sweat and hard work! Whatcha got for us, kiddo?!

Charlie: Dad! (Averts her eyes) What are you wearing?!

Lucifer: What?! I wore this in my college days!

Angel: Oooooh! While I'm not complaining there, Short King, I don't think Charlie appreciates seeing the "King's Apple" lodged in your shorts.

Lucifer: Huh? (Looks down at the natural, indiscreet bulge in his shorts) ........But these shorts cup the boys so nicely.

Charlie: (about to puke like when she watched Angel's best porno during show and tell)

Vaggie: Babe, let's just focus on getting the workout done. Alright?

Charlie: OoOookay.... Um... Do you mind taking over? I actually have no idea what I'm doing.

Vaggie: (sparkle in her eye) Sure thing, babe. (Turns to the rest and squares her shoulders) Alright, we are going to start with two easy laps around the track followed by partner bear crawls for two hundred meters, thirty burpies, and ending with twenty inverted push-ups! Any questions?

Hazbins: (awkwardly glance at each other)

Niffty: (wearing a 50s style one piece workout suit) YAY!!! PAIN!!!

Vaggie: THEN MOVE!!!

-One Hour Later-

Hazbins: (moaning and groaning in agony as they lay defeated on the track)

Angel: (rolled out like a spider that got run over) Charlie..... Toots.....

Charlie: (gasping for breath as she falls to her knees and holds herself up on shaking arms) Yeah.... Angel?

Angel: (Looks over to Vaggie who is on her third iteration of bear crawls and using an equally dead Lucifer for weight) If this psychopathic bitch of a stamina monster brings this kind of energy to the bedroom, (wheezes and coughs) then I'll pray for your loins the next time you guys have sex.

Charlie: (panting as she rolls onto her back, too tired to even correct the inappropriate statement) Thank you, Angel. (Tilts her head up and leans on her elbows to watch Vaggie)

Vaggie: (finishes the bear crawls and drops Lucifer off with a jump) Thanks for being my partner, Sir. (Breaks into her burpees)

Lucifer: (wheezes through little spindles of smoke) No problem, Vaggie. Anytime. (To Charlie) What do you feed that girl?

Charlie: (watching Vaggie intently with a fresh blush not caused by exertion)

Angel: Charlie?

Charlie: (watches the muscles in Vaggie's thighs and shoulders work as she speeds through her burpees)

Lucifer: Chaaaaarlie? (Snaps fingers) Little Duckie, are you alright?

Charlie: (hearts beat in her eyes and Careless Whispers plays in the background somewhere as she watches Vaggie's leg, shoulder, and back muscles contract and flex under the duress)

Vaggie: (finishes her burpees and goes into a handstand, briefly getting her balance before starting her handstand push-ups)

Charlie: (watches a bead of sweat follow the contours of Vaggie's shoulder muscles and scars and drool starts dribbling down her chin) Angel.... I need that prayer now....

Angel: Huh? (Follows Charlie'sline of sight and groans in pain as he brings his hands up in prayer) Our Unholy Father of Debauchery, please see that this horny bitch's snatch makes it safely out of the upcoming pounding she is about to receive. May her holes be elastic and well lubricated to avoid tearing, her legs be flexible as they reach behind her head, her orgasms shake her very foundation, and the aftercare be filled with all the cutsey cuddling she can handle. Amen.

Charlie: (continues watching) I wanna climb her.

Lucifer: (awkwardly) Uhhhhh.... Vaggie's not a tree, sweetie.

Charlie: I want her to *CENSORED* my *CENSORED* and *BEEEP BEEEP BEEEEEEEEP* while *CENSORED*,and then *BEEEEEEEEEEEP* and *CENSORED*

Angel: (gasps and clutches his imaginary pearls) Holy Fuck, Babe!!! Cool your jets! (Pulls out his phone and starts recording) I gotta use some of these lines at the next recording!

Charlie: When she smacks my *BEEEEP*, I want to *CENSORED* *BEEEP BEEP* and *BEEEEP-EP-EP-BEEEEEEEP* to taste *CENSORED*.

Lucifer: (faints after hearing his daughter saying such filth)

Angel: (stops recording) ......Fucking-A, Charlie, that's even making me feel dirty.....

Thank you, @sevi-fuk, for giving me the idea of Charlie going fiendish about Vaggie and her muscles.

[fairyrcts]

ivy , c.s. • track 2

by fairyrcts contents - intended lowercase , 3rd person , cursing , slight male masturbation

(an - short cuz pink + white finna eat and i got more blurbs comin out)

chris had felt bad after leaving the girls' apartment that night. it had been serenity's first time getting high and he wanted to help with the morning after cause he knew how much that'd suck. but, like most everyone in that city, he had places to be.

i'll check in with her later he thought

that morning, he'd gotten up, feeling terrible. it was routine at this point.

brushing off his aching head, he did his daily duties. got dressed, brushed his teeth, etc.

he'd plan to go see his friend nathan and meet him for lunch, which wasn't until 1. it was currently 10, so he had plently of time.

since having nothing to due, he made the decision to go visit serenity and check up with her.

meanwhile, she was stressing out completely.

she had slept in by an hour and was 25 minutes late to her lecture today, not to mention how absolutely gross she felt.

she was rushing to get her black stockings on, almost tripping with each movement.

"crap, crap, crap."

she'd already put on her pastel purple sweater, skirt and tied her hair up in a bun. all she needed to do was slip her boots on, grab her bag and go.

which, she did. she'd made it all the way down the stairs and out of her apartment. she thought the rest of the day would be smooth sailing, but god had other plans.

when opening the glass door to exit her apartment complex, serenity aggressively bumped into a familiar face.

she let out a small 'ow!'

chris backed up, stumbling a bit.

"jeez, do that to everyone?" his words made himself chuckle. but serenity wasn't having it.

"only to everyone standing in my way. i've got places to be, sorry." she let his comment go and began speed walking.

"hey, wait up! came to check on ya and you're runnin" he sighed before jogging to catch up to the curly-haired girl who was currently pissed at him.

"wait up, says the clueless brunette who's literally the reason i'm late!" even with her words being angry, chris was still focused on her angelic voice.

"how's that my fault?" he was now beside her as the two sped-walked at the same speed.

it was quite an eyesore to passersby. this swanlike girl, with put together clothes and dainty gold jewelry dripping off her and a taller, basic-looking white guy who's wearing baggy jeans and a sleeveless shirt that said 'pirate girl' on the front.

they definitely stuck out like a sore thumb to anyone who didn't know them.

serenity's facial expressions became blithe as she began explaining. "you got me high! i shouldn't have done that."

"okay, 1, you asked. and 2, didn't it feel good though?"

chris's words made her eyes crinkle as she thought.

yeah, it did. like a weight was lifted and a feeling of relief washed over her. but she wasn't to give him the satisfaction.

"not the point, chris. is chris short for christopher?" she remarked, now at the campus.

"uh, yeah, why?"

"now i can say your full name when i'm mad at you. i've got a lecture i'm about to miss the rest of, thanks for checking in or whatnot. if you wanna check in and not annoy me next time, ask izzy to gove you my number." serenity rushed her words as she walked up more, chris stopping to not go campus property.

she turned her dour face to look at him once more. to say chris was mesmerized was probably the perfect word.

he shot her a lopsided grin and walked away.

chris just replayed the sounds of her melodic voice as he walked back to his car. he'd rather losten to that than any music on any radio station.

-- --

after the rather exhausting day at school was over, serenity made it back to her apartment and noticed izzy hadn't been there. she leaned against the kitchen counter and opened her texts to see around 4 from a random number.

unknown

hey just wanted to say sorry for earlier

unknown

izzy gave me ur number btw

unknown

this is chris

unknown

but u prob put that tg already

she laughed to herself at the stupidity of his thought process. she saved his contact number and put it under 'chris !'

she debated wether or not to text back, but decided on it after a moment of thinking.

she simply responded to his messages with a voice message.

on the other end, chris was going insane.

he'd saw that he had a voice message and absolutely went crazy. when he played hit, he just became engulfed in what she was saying. it was small simple words, but with her butter like voice, it was more than that.

his opposite hand instinctly moved to the tent in his pants. chris slightly palmed himself through the blew jeans he wore. he imagined it was her rubbing down on his erection.

he thought how'd she react if she knew. probably not the greatest.. so out of respect, he stopped, mentally cursing himself for caring.

he sent a voice message back, jokingly talking about the effect she has on him with her voice.

the pair just sent voice memo's back and forth all afternoon, just talking about everything they could really think of.

chris responded to one of serenity's with "man, i should come over right now. i could bring over sum more weed or whatever. or nothing at all."

which definitely got her thinking. she enjoyed their conversation so far, and the result of her getting high last night wasn't that bad. what's the worse that could happen?

[kpopbestie96]

Part two: Crushing on my best friend

Hello lovelies! I finally wrote part two! I really hope you enjoy it! Again, I'm really sorry for not posting part two earlier. I wanted to but time got away from me. Please enjoy, please be delusional reading this! Let's go!

Paring: Bang Chan x reader, Bang Chan x Y/n

Genre: Stray Kids fan fiction, Bang Chan fan fiction

Warnings: cussing, 17+

"Let me see your phone," Chan demanded, holding out his hand, hoping she would actually give it to him.

She scoffed in disgust while rolling her eyes. "What for?" She asked, placing her hands on her hips.

Chan felt his anger brewing while thinking back to what you said if she didn't show you her phone. His heart stung a little bit. "I see..."

"See what?" Her eyebrows were pinched together, annoyed that you would ask to see her phone.

"We're done," he said without any more hesitation.

"Seriously Chan?" She stepped closer to him, her vision not leaving his. "Just because I won't show you my phone??"

"It means your hiding something."

"It fucking doesn't!" He looked down at his coffee table, seeing his phone light up while she had her back towards him; complaining how he doesn't know how to trust people.

He saw that it was you who messaged, squinting down to try and read it before she turned back around. He saw something, saying: I've been wanting to tell you. Is all he could read before she was yelling his way again.

His mind was racing, not even listening to his girlfriend, wondering what the rest of the message said if it started of the way it did.

"Please leave," He pointed towards the door annoyed. "I want you out of here! We're offically done." He was fuming and couldn't wait for her to leave his home and life.

"I can't believe this!" Her arms moving every which way. "You're throwing this all away because of an accusation??"

"Just show me your phone, it's simple." He noted.

"No," her voice almost sounded liked a spoiled child. A brat that wasn't getting her way.

"Then get the fuck out. I can't help you much more."

She left yelling, flailing her arms everywhere as he walked back to pick up his phone off the coffee table.

He opened your message, sitting down slowly onto his couch, taken back by your confession.

"She likes me more than a friend??" He couldn't believe it. He thought earlier today you would say something, not send him a message while fighting with his girlfriend. Well ex now.

A smiled crept on to his face because the younger version in him was jumping up for joy. He pushed his crush for you away when he realized this was only going to be a friendship.

He never wanted to ask because he didn't want to ruin what you two had. But now that you admitted to liking him, he was ready to confess how he feels about you.

He messaged you, called you but you weren't picking up or texting back. I wonder if she's asleep, he thought as he saw the time.

I'll go over tomorrow, he got ready for bed but it was no use sleeping as he wondered what to say. "I like you too, always have. No that's dumb. Um, you've always been part of my heart." He covered his eyes with his hands trying to find a way to tell you.

The next morning you immediately checked your phone. Okay, let's think of the worst possible outcome.

When you clicked your phone on, you saw there was a few messages and missed calls from Chan. Shit, I didn't think it would be this bad. You tossed your phone back onto the night stand, walking away to go take a shower where you cried your eyes out.

I should have done it...I knew it. You gripped your hair, frustrated for letting your emotions take over to do something so crazy.

The entire morning, you avoided your phone like the plauge. You werent ready for the rejection, so you made your breakfast and chilling in the living room. While Chan was at home wondering why you haven't called or messaged him back.

He figured he would do the next best thing and go over. He zipped up his favorite black jacket over his white sleeveless top, paired with some black shorts and shoes.

He raced over to your house, hoping that you were still there and didn't leave for the day while you finally got up and decided to check your phone.

Okay, I can do this. I will understand and be mindful of his decision. I can do this.

You sat down on your bed, your feet hanging off as you couldn't help but stare at your phone. As much as you were comforting yourself, your body didn't want to reach out and grab it.

As you bit you bottom lip softly, you finally reached over, grabbed it and held your phone in your hand.

When you clicked it on, you saw other notifications that weren't top priority to look at, as you clicked on the messages icon on the screen.

Your finger hovered above Chan's messages not looking down at the phone. Okay just press it, you told yourself. As soon as you were about to press your thumb down on the screen, you heard a knock on the door.

Your eyes shot open, what...who's that? You brought your phone closer to you, looking down to see Chan messaged he was coming over.

Oh! You quickly fixed yourself up a bit before answering the door, not wanting to look too much like trash.

"Hey!" You said opening the door wide for him to come in. "Sorry I didn't see your message. I would have gotten dressed more and done my makeup."

"Y/n you're fine! I always tell you how much more beautiful you look without it."

You tried to keep your smile down as your nerves were wondering why he was here. Oh God, he's going to reject me to my face. Well let's get this over with. "Please, come in." You said stepping out of the way for him to walk in and take his shoes off by the door.

"Do you want anything to drink?" You nervously asked, eyeing him suspiciously when he didn't turn around to face you, seeing his the black jacket cover his broad shoulders.

"Nah, I'm okay. But is there a reason you didn't text or call back?" He asked, not wanting to beat around the bush.

With your hands behind your back, you stared at the ground nervously as your heart was about to fall out of your chest and land on the floor. "I...I guess I wasn't ready," you stuttered as you tried to keep your tears from falling out.

"What do you mean?" He walked over to you, seeing his white socks in your view. "Wait, did you think I don't feel the same way?"

Your head snapped up a little too quickly, making you mentally face palm yourself for the way your reacted. What did he say??

But Chan didn't think of anything of it as he could see the worry on your face. "Y/n...can I see your hand?"

"Um..sure..." you said sounding skeptical. You shakily put your hand out, which made you yell at yourself. I've held his hand before, I need to calm down.

His strong, veiny hand covered yours making you cheeks turn a light shade of pink. "You're message made me so happy, you have no idea how long I've had a crush on you."

Time stood still with his announcement, none of this seemed real to you. "What?" Was the only question you could ask.

"We've been friends for years and I thought that's all we were ever going to be. So I pushed my crush for you away. But now that I know..."

He stepped closer to you, titling your head up to look at him, while he continued to hold your hand, squeezing it a bit tighter.

Your body was tense and you could feel your breathing become irregular, there's no way this is fucking happening. I'm dreaming, cause that's the only logical explanation right now.

He moved his face down as your eyes were wide open, waiting for something you've only dreamt about. His face stopped, softly feeling his pink plumped lips agaisnt yours.

You silently whined as he opened his eyes, wanting to make sure this was okay, not want to over step his boundaries. "May I? I don't want to make you uncomfortable."

"Of course you can."

You could feel him smile before placing his free hand on your left cheek, softly pressing his lips against yours.

Your head was spinning as the butterflies in your stomach released.

You couldn't believe this was happening, thinking to all the times you've dreamt about this, all the times where you were shyly checking him out, all the times for biting your tongue whenever he would introduce a new girl to you.

His hands moved to your hips, pressing your body against his while you floated on the most comfortable cloud you've ever rode.

"I've been waiting a long time to do that," He said breaking you out of your thoughts while resting his head against yours.

You opened your eyes, starting into his, while there was ringing in your ears. "I know what you mean," you softly laughed while you didn't want to move past this moment.

"But go get dressed," Chan said, standing straight up. "Let's go on a date."

"A date??" You asked shocked, flinching back by saying the word date.

"Unless you want to stay friends? Let's go hang out." He chuckled.

"I'll go get ready! I'm assuming casual?"

You couldn't help but move your vision to see his his jacket sliding down his arm, exposing his toned shoulder. You quickly yelled at yourself to whip your gaze back to his.

"Yeah, let's go do something fun!"

"Okay, I'm in!" You were about to run to your room when he grabbed your hand and spun your around.

"Wait one more thing," He said before smashing your lips against his. "Just wanted to do that. But go get dressed."

You were left in a haze as you walked to your room, feeling his lips still on yours.

"Woow..." you said quietly to yourself as you closed the door behind and threw yourself onto the bed, smiling so big while staring up the ceiling. I can't believe this is real! You squealed, trying your best not to be too loud.

Once you got dressed, did some makeup, you walked out to a smiling Chan who turned your TV off once you walked out.

"Ready?"

"Ready!"

You walked to the elevator as he sneakily intertwined your fingers together. Your cheeks became warm, looking down at your hands together before looking at him.

You could see a smile forming on his face, his ears turning red as he shyly turned towards you.

"Is this okay?" He asked.

"Of course," you smiled before stepping onto the elevator and heading to your first date with him.

💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖

For part one: Click here

For more Stray Kids things I've done: Click here

[w2soneshots]

Photoshoot -W2S

words: 0.7k+

warnings: none.

summary: you meet a cute boy during a photo shoot.

Today I have a photo shoot with On Cloud for their new women's collection. I got up, took an everything shower, dried and straightened my hair, did my skincare, got dressed and threw on my converse. Once I was fully ready I grabbed my bag and left my apartment.

"It's in a warehouse so there will be other people shooting for there own brands." my manager said over the phone as I drove to the location. "That's fine, do you know what I'll be wearing?" I asked her. "All I know is that you will be wearing the trainers." she said. "ok. Im here now so I'll call you when I'm done." I said pulling into a parking spot. "good luck, bye." she said declining the call.

I got out of my car, locked it and headed into the warehouse. "You must be y/n!" a lady said walking up to me, I nodded. "Im Rose, I'll be directing the today's shoot." she said bringing me over to the dressing rooms at the back of the building. I headed straight into makeup and hair. They didn't do much to my hair, just gave it more volume and for makeup they did it very natural.

Once hair and makeup was done they handed me a black body suit and some white socks. I put them on and they applied this oil thing to my legs to make them sort of shiny. "Perfect, ready to go!" she said ushering me out of the dressing room and back into the main area of the warehouse. "Im just going to grab the shoes. go ahead and meet the camera team." she said pointing to the collection of cameras and lights surrounding a big white backdrop.

I looked around quickly before I started walking, there are 2 other shoots happening, one next to mine, the other opposite. I began walking (on my tip toes, since I'm just in socks) quickly towards the set. Once I got there I said hello to all of the crew. Rose came back with the shoes. "here we go." she said handing them to me. I put them on, then turned my head toward the shoot happening next to me. I caught eye contact with a tall man with dirty blonde hair wearing a hoodie. He's also sat next to a small ginger man wearing the same hoodie just in a different colour. I smiled slightly at him and turned my head back to Rose.

"Perfect, stay right here!" Shaun (the main camera man) said, referring to the pose I was currently in. "That's a wrap, great job everyone." Rose said loudly. "Can I see the photos?" I asked Rose. "definitely." she said waving over Shaun. "These are the ones we will be using."

"Woah." I said staring at the pictures. "you look great babe" Rose said smiling. "now, do you want to go back to the dressing rooms to get changed?" I nodded and made my way back to the dressing rooms not before Rose took the shoes off me. I got back into the clothes I was wearing earlier, said thank you and goodbye to Rose and everyone else on set before leaving.

Harry pov:

"Go on bog, she's leaving, quick!" Ethan said pushing me towards her car. I took a deep breath and made my way over to her. I tapped her on the shoulder. She quickly turned around and her face lit up. "hi" she said. "hey I was just wondering if, uh-" I said stuttering. "If I was single?" She said kindly. "uh, yea." I said slightly embarrassed. "well I am." she said. "Ok, I uh was wondering If you're maybe free on Friday?" I asked. "I think so." she said pulling out her phone. she silently scrolled for a second before saying "yes, Im free!" "do you like Nando's?" I asked. "It's one of my favourite restaurants." she said. "thank god" I thought. "great, dinner?" I asked hopefully. "send me the time." she said handing me her phone. I typed my number into her phone. we said goodbye and she hopped in her car.

"Soo?" Ethan said as I walked back over to him. "we're going to dinner on Friday!" I said slightly excitedly, Ethan jumped "Yes bog!" He said patting me on the back.

[ashsostrange]

"averagegirlie" is just "xxoxobree", formerly known as "breeandhermunches" on a burner. newsflash, your "fav" miles writer isn't who you think she is!

ik a lot of us must be VERY confused so let me help you out. @/averagegirlie and @/xxoxobree are the same mfkn person! why did bree make this account? i assume that it's so she could fend for herself and keep the "unbothered" act up on her main page. that's why she deletes all her reblogs after arguing w someone then comes over to this account to start bsing. not to mention she can say extremely problematic things with no repercussions, because she doesn't have a following on that page + it's not tied to her.. at least it wasn't before! bree's a very messy liar. i peeped the truth so lemme share it w y'all.

bree if you're seeing this, go take a couple shots before you read. you should've kept it cute but you didn't, so let's get nasty mf.

i have receipts! let's start right here cz i find this the funniest:

nobody but her spells "internet" like that... this is one of the many examples of the two accounts talking alike, even though bree said she wouldn't refer to "yao" as a friend when the whole rashad thing was going down. yesterday, i reminded yao of that. she said "i like bree, so what" but she deleted that and changed it to "when are y'all gonna catch on to the fact that we talk?" mhm.. bree's a lil confused, but next!

y'all see "yao's" tag? telling alexa to play some bs... then y'all see bree?? NEXT!

go look on miss average's page. she only comes online to defend and ride the hell out of bree's dick. remember ts w amani? why are you going so hard for someone who says they dk you like that LMFAO. not to mention, when the rashad shit was happening, bree said "this my girl and she never been wrong" but then she turns around and says "i wouldn't say we're friends" WHICH ONE IS IT MISS MUNCH??! 😭🤣🤣 next!

why we praising tf out of bree's oc? ts was ai bro. we got a self supafan. next...

look at this smart anon, putting tg the pieces and shit. "ash and dalia fight your battles every time" is literally.. a lie. what battles are we referring to? talia's never in drama as much as you're implying. and ima ride for my friends anyway, tf? but my entire blog will never be centered around ONE human being. it ain't that serious ever. "yao" and bree need hobbies cz writing obv ain't doing it for her. next.

bree has also said she's messy lol. she likes drama. hm!

look at how she came on her white horse when bree was battling the great war w anons over miles morales smut (which i don't fw, js to be clear.) who summoned her? BREE LMFAIOFHDGFKJAS... NEXT!!!

here's miss xxoxo munches being ableist, much like her alter ego. bro went silent and blocked lia after this. now let's get into miss average again.

look at this bs. ion even gotta say much.. this girl is black & not chinese!! y'all should know why this is weird. here's the "evidence" she gave me btw:

here's me proving her wrong! she tried! next.

y'all see the way they're tagging their posts w their usernames? mhm.. ik you do.

HMMM....

these are both bree. i don't mean to bring up maye again, but i have to for context. what happened wasn't js "drama"... the things she said to dalia were racist + that post she was lyin' about lia in. she also liked the post.. dead giveaway you silly bitch! 🥱 nd she was also instigating in honey's inbox. i know her typing style and her emoji colors lol. it's common sense atp. it's not hard to tell when an anon is bree. and from what i'm seeing not even maye is fw her.. LMFAISAIDHSAY GIRL YOU'RE DONE! 😭 feel free to go thru their accs, you'll see ts too. she's funny asf for this, i'll give her that and that only. i've never laughed so much in under 24 hours. 💓

in conclusion, bree is messy, bored, insecure, ableist & miserable! she thought nobody would ever find out but here we are today. she fronts not gaf but then switches to this acc to let off some serious steam... as miss freeman once said: "Alexa, play yikes!"

but bless bree 💗 maybe if you change now, you'll still be able to collect your tokens like dalia says.

[justagamerandaweeb]

TLC (Tender, Loving Care) - Modern AU! Senjuro x Reader

I'm in a fluffy mood at the moment, so why not make a story featuring a sick (Y/N), and a caring Senjuro Rengoku? My friend on Discord suggested that I should go with him, and this dude is severely underrated, so it works. He's a really caring guy, why wouldn't this suit him? Also, he's gonna be older in this, like early 20s or so, just like his brother :)

Be forewarned, there is vomiting included in this story. So if you're squeamish about someone blowing chunks, highly suggest you leave.

Gif by @mizurei and border by @mikeykuns

You vomited at the trashcan that was next to your bed, blowing out chunks of what you ate yesterday. Once you finished throwing up, you plopped right back onto the pillow. Fuck... out of all times to be sick, why now? My nose is so stuffed that it feels like I can't breathe. This sucks. You thought as you did a soft sniff.

She then heard the sound of someone knocking on her door, and she shouted out, her voice sounding hoarse and scratchy, "Come in." The door opens and the person behind the door is revealed to be a man with fire-like hair, yellow eyes, red irises, and white pupils, and black forked eyebrows. Along with a face mask to protect himself from getting sick. "H-Hey, (Y/N). How are you feeling today?" The young Rengoku asked her.

She sighed as she responded to him, "Like crap. My nose feels so stuffed, that I can't breathe, my lungs feel like they're on fire, and my throat hurts because I keep throwing up. Long story short, I feel like hell right now." She summarized as she softly sniffed again. "Oh... Well, sorry to hear about that. Do you want me to make you anything?" (Y/N) violently coughs as she says, "Yeah... Sorry. Can you make me some soup? I think that would make me a little better."

The young Rengoku nods as he says, "I'll see what I can do." He saw her smiling as she softly spoke, "Thank you." and closed the door. Senjuro briefly exhaled as he thought to himself, Okay Senjuro, time to do your duty as a brother-in-law, and take care of your sister! And so he marched to the kitchen to fix (Y/N) a chicken noodle soup.

He opened one of the cabinets and took out a white plastic bowl, and rinsed it out with the sink. Once that was done, he puts the bowl on the counter and trotted to the pantry and turned on the light. He analyzed the rows of food that were filling the shelves, until his eyes caught a glance of cans of chicken noodle soup.

Once he grabbed it, he popped the top off and poured the soup into the bowl. He threw the can away, and grabbed the bowl and put it in the microwave for three minutes, and 30 seconds. As the timer was going down, he walked back to (Y/N)'s door, and knocked on it again.

(Y/N) shouts out again, "Come in." And Senjuro opens the door, peeking his head out. "I'm making the soup, is there anything you want me to do for you?" (Y/N) softly coughed as she looked to the right and grabbed a blue cup, and said, "Could you fill this up with ice and water, please?" She said in a way it sounded like she was losing her voice.

Senjuro nodded as he walked in, grabbed the cup, and said, "Anything else?" And she shook her head. "Thank you." He smiled under the mask from her saying thanks to him as he responded, "You're welcome." And cracks the door. (Y/N) lets out a wheezing laugh as she thinks to herself, He's such a good boy. I'm glad Kyojuro taught him right. She thought, sounding like a wholesome grandma.

Senjuro scoops ice up from the freezer and dumps it in the cup, and once it is halfway, he puts it under the water dispenser and waits for the cup to fill. He stood where for a prolonged moment until the cup was filled to the brim with water.

He puts the cup on the island as he stands in front of the microwave, waiting for it to beep. He softly clapped his hands together, and got on his toes as the timer on the microwave decreased. Once it beeped, he opened the microwave and took the bowl of hot soup out. He then grabs a plastic spoon, and slowly stirs the bowl, and softly fans it to make sure it isn't too hot for (Y/N).

He then picked the bowl, and your cup up as he strolled back to your door, and softly pushed the door open. He put her cup right next to her on the mini table, as he grabbed the chair next to him, and sat down in front of her. He scooped up the soup and said, "Open wide." and she opened her mouth for him to pour the soup into her mouth.

She chews the noodles and swallows them, softly coughing once she finishes it. Senjuro asked her, "How is it?" and (Y/N) glanced at him and responded, "In the words of Kyojuro, tasty. I would scream it out, but my throat hurts too much." She said as she softly laughed, and so did Senjuro. He continued to feed (Y/N) more of the soup, until she told him to stop. He puts the bowl on the mini table, and grabs the cup as he says, "Are you thirsty? If so, sit up for me, please."

She sits up from the bed, and was about to give her a waterfall but she grabbed the cup from his hands. "I may be sick, but I can do this on my own." She said as she took a sip of the cup. "But, thank you. You're doing a good job taking care of me." Senjuro smiled under the mask as he bowed down to her and said, "Anything for my brother's wife."

(Y/N) then pats his hair as she says, "You'd make a great husband, you know that, right?" Senjuro blushes at the thought of it. But in hindsight, she was right. His brother taught him how to treat others with respect, and how to treat others when they direly need them. Feats like that are what make a great friend, and a spectacular significant other.

She put the cup back on the mini table as she laid back down on the pillow and said, "Thank you for feeding me that soup. It feels like I can breathe through my nose again. My stomach and throat still hurt, but it's something." She said, smirking at him.

Senjuro smiled as he said, "Is there anything I can do for you?" (Y/N) looked at the flat screen in front of her, hanging on the wall as she said, "Can you turn on the TV? the remotes on the stand." And he nods. He stood up off the chair, and grabbed the remote. He sat back down on the chair and turned the TV on with the remote.

"What do you want to watch?" Senjuro asked (Y/N) as she responded, "I'll watch whatever you wanna watch. I'm not too picky about what I watch so long as it keeps me entertained." Senjuro as nods as he elicits a, "Hm." from his vocal cords.

A show popped up in his head, and he thought both of them would love it. He pressed the search bar on the remote, and slowly typed in The Spectacular Spider-Man in the search bar. Senjuro heard (Y/N) gasp as she said, "You like this show too?" He nods as he responds, "My brother showed me this when he was in his Spider-Man phase when we were both little. I liked the show, and the characters, the villains too." He said as he scrolled through until he stops at the 10th episode titled, "Persona".

He presses play and puts the remote down on the bed as she asks him, "Is this the episode where he gets the black suit?" "Symbiote, and yes it is. Sorry for my correction." Senjuro said as his eyes were glued to the TV. (Y/N) chuckled as she said, "You're such a nerd." making Senjuro elicit a nose laugh.

An hour and 32 minutes passed by as both of you watched the 13th episode, where Venom tried to attack Spider-Man's loved ones, them being Gwen Stacy and Aunt May. As they were watching the TV, Senjuro felt his stomach growl and stood up as he said, "I'm gonna get something to eat. Are you feeling any better to eat anything else?"

"If I'm going to be honest, probably not. Just go ahead and eat, I'll be okay." You said as Senjuro nodded and left the room. Such a good boy. You thought as you continued to watch the TV. However, you started to retch as you felt something in your stomach slowly coming back up. Oh no... you turned your body to the right, and left your head hanging on the side of the bed, and hovering above the trash can as you elicted a few retches before a wave of vomit launched out of your mouth.

The force of vomiting made your already sore throat made it hurt even more. The sloshy, mushy sound of the vomit going in the trash bag sounded so grotesque, it was something that would make anyone upchuck. You spit out a big wad of saliva as you look at the aftermath of you spewing out your stomach's content. The vomit was a golden yellow, along with a few bits and pieces of the chicken.

You spat out more saliva before you felt a second round quickly arriving, and you vomited again. Thankfully, it wasn't much, but it still hurt like hell. Senjuro barged right in to see you hanging your head above the trash can as you looked at him with tears in your eyes. "S-Senjuro... Help me..."

Senjuro quickly scurried to you as he lifted you back up to the bed, and put your head on the pillow. "I'll go get a towel, and some medicine! J-Just, hang on okay!?" Senjuro said as it sounded like he was panicking as he ran back out of the room. Your entire body was shaking as you were lying down, waiting for Senjuro to come back.

Someone up above... please help me gain the strength I need to overcome this... (Y/N) thought as tears started to down both sides of her face. Please... Senjuro came back with a wet small towel, and a bottle of pills. He puts the wet cold towel onto (Y/N)'s head, and opened the cap of the bottle. He pours one tablet out as he says, "Open your mouth." and she obeys him.

He puts the tablet in her mouth and grabs the cup of water and pours a appropriate amount in her mouth, and she closes it as they both hear the sound of her swallowing it. "The effects might take a minute to kick in. I-I think it's best if you sleep for the time being." (Y/N) nods as she says in a feeble, hoarse tone, "Okay..."

Senjuro puts his hand on (Y/N)'s covered body, and pets her as he reassures her, "It's gonna be alright. You can get through this. I know you will." smiling under the mask. (Y/N) looked at him as she moved her arm, and grabbed his hand. "Th-Thank you... for taking care of me..." her eyes began to close as she repeated the words, "Thank you... thank... you... that..." and then she passed out asleep.

A couple of hours went by, and it was now dark outside. Senjuro yawned as he started to get sleepy, but he didn't want to leave (Y/N)'s side. He wiped his eyes with his free hand. He already finished the entire second season of The Spectacular Spider-Man, and now he was watching Adventure Time. He checked his phone and read a text from his brother that he was coming, 30 minutes ago.

Where are you, brother? I can only stay up for so long... Senjuro thought as he wiped his eyes with his free hand. He yawns as he started to fade in and out of sleep. His eyes and neck were getting heavier as he lowers his head, and slowly closed his eyes.

That is, until someone knocked on the door. He lifts his head back up as he stood up, and slowly let go of (Y/N)'s hand. He leaves the room, and unlocks the front door to see that it was his younger brother, Kyojuro. "Big brother! I'm so glad you're here!" and hugged him. Kyojuro laughed as he says, "Nice to see you, too, little brother." And pats his back.

They both walk in as Kyojuro asked Senjuro, "Where's (Y/N)? Is she still sick?" Senjuro pointed at the cracked door and said, "She's in there. And yeah, she's still sick. But I've been taking care of her while you we're gone." Kyojuro pat his back as he said, "Thanks, man."

Senjuro smiles under the mask as he says, "Anything... For my older sister-in-law. Excuse me." He said as he yawned mid-sentence. "Oof, sounds like she took a toll on you." Senjuro rebutted, "No, I've just been staying up for too long, that's all." Kyojuro hummed as he said, "Either way, you sound tired. Go upstairs and get some sleep. I'll take care of her for tonight." He said, scruffing up his hair.

Senjuro softly laughed as he said, "Okay, okay. You don't gotta mess up my hair for it." And started to go upstairs. As he was going up, Kyojuro said, "Hey." making Senjuro turn around. "Yes?" Kyojuro walked up to him, and wrapped his arm around his neck as he laid his head on his shoulder and said, "Thanks for taking care of my wife. I was kind of disappointed in myself for not being here. But, I'm glad she was being taken care of by someone like you." He said, with a smile on his face.

Senjuro pats his back as he said, "Anytime." They both stopped hugging Kyojuro said, "Now go upstairs and get some sleep." Senjuro chuckled as he gave him a two finger salute as he went upstairs to his room. Kyojuro then looks at the door of the room you were in, and peeks out to see you asleep with a towel on her forehead.

Kyojuro stepped back as he went to the kitchen and went into one of the lower cabinets to get a face mask. He puts it on, closes the cabinet, and softly opens the door as he sees Adventure Time playing on the TV. My brother still has taste... He then sits down on the chair next to her.

He heard her groaning as her hand started to move around, as if she was trying to grab something. He reaches his hand out to her, and she grabs it, forming a smile on her sleeping face. Kyojuro looked at her as he thought, You did good Senjuro... you did good. And started to watch the TV.

If you gagged while reading this, I sincerely apologize. But, that's all I have for you today. Until next time.

❤️👋✌️.

[mangoisms]

i'll be the dangerous ledge (you be the parachute)

━ chapter nine: what if we could risk everything we have | read chapter eight

━ pairing: tim drake x f!reader

━ word count: 4.2k

━ warnings: none

━ masterlist

The next morning, you find Tim in your kitchen.

You emerge from the bathroom, having already guessed he was here by the smell of food cooking and from the sound of your TV playing the morning news. Well, late morning news. 

Things settled around the city eventually in the wake of the news about Red Robin. Well, as settled as they can be here in Gotham. But you don’t suspect the Bats are spread too thin. They have, like, a team working here. Batman and Robin, of course, then Black Bat and Signal and Spoiler who doesn’t wear the bat emblem, exactly, but is seen with them frequently enough to be associated with them. This is on top of the few others who also work in the city, like Huntress. So, it’s not like there’s a shortage of vigilantes to go around. 

But the news on the TV is talking about the weather for today, not that. 

“Keep your sunscreen on standby as we have yet another sunny day here in Gotham, with partly-cloudy skies and highs in the eighties. We can expect higher temperatures throughout the week as a heat wave from the south hits us —”

You stop by the boys’ tank, privately pleased to see them having just finished their breakfast, no doubt courtesy of your unexpected guest. 

You glance away from them, to the kitchen, where Tim is currently making eggs, with something else on the counter next to him. Wait, is that a…

“I’m not complaining but… where on earth did that waffle maker come from?”

Tim turns, appearing not at all surprised by your appearance — he’s never spooked, not once, but he does it to you frequently — and shoots you a smile. “Hey, good morning.”

“Morning,” you say, drifting closer to him. You’re both dressed down, with him in sweats and a white t-shirt, and you would bet a decent amount of money that he rolled out of bed, half-heartedly fixed his hair, brushed his teeth, and came down here immediately. You did the same, still in your pajamas, which are a pair of old shorts and a ratty softball shirt from high school. 

It’s not the first time he’s done this but like always, it is terribly domestic and not at all good for your heart.

“So… the waffle maker?” you ask, trying to sneak a piece of buttered toast. 

He gently bats your hand away, looking back at the pan, where eggs sizzle. “You said you like the efficiency of waffles.”

You blink. 

That’s… a lot to unpack.

First of all, when did you say that? 

You pause, searching your memory.

Your prolonged silence clues Tim into your confusion. He flips the egg. 

“When we were at Waffle House in April and the cook and waitress got into a fight.”

“Oh! And the waitress —”

“Stopped the chair thrown at her single-handedly,” he finishes.

“Right, right…” You did say something to that effect after your food had arrived. And it remains true. But of course, waffles are only efficient if you have a waffle maker and —

“Tim, you didn’t get this for me, right?”

“I just thought waffles would be fun,” he says, vague, specifically a non-answer. 

You scrutinize his side profile. Something about him right now… With a spatula in his left hand, his right hand drumming on his thigh. It’s not like him to give up a nervous tell so easily. Not like him at all. 

Your curiosity is unbidden and difficult to suppress, but you decide to step back anyway and let him come to you in his own time. He’ll have to, if the waffle maker really is for you. 

“Well, you’re not wrong,” you say, brushing a hand over his shoulder. “Now we’ll just have to see if you can beat Waffle House.”

“Probably can’t. My waffles are being made peacefully. Mostly peacefully.”

You laugh and help him finish. Mostly by pulling out the waffle, then pouring batter for the next one, the one for him.

Garnished with homemade whipped cream, the leftover strawberries from yesterday, and maple syrup, with a side of eggs and toast, your breakfast is a hearty one. Or rather, your brunch is, since it’s eleven. 

He’s quiet throughout it, eating his food, but with a distant look in his eyes. You still don’t push. 

“I think you did it,” you say when you finish, leaning back in your chair, belly full, making you want a nap. “You managed to beat Waffle House.”

Tim snorts, pushing around the last bits of his waffle. “High praise.”

“Only for you.”

He looks at you, seeming to come back to himself, face softening at your words and at the warm smile you allow yourself to give him. Not too much but enough, enough to soothe some of his nerves, maybe.

You know it’s worked when he glances down at his plate and sighs. 

Setting down the fork, he stands, crossing over to the living room, leaning down to dig through his bag. 

You sit up, curious, at the sound of paper. 

He unearths a newspaper, coming back over to you hesitantly, with the newspaper held folded in his hands. 

“Tim?”

He opens his mouth, then closes it, grimacing at something. 

With a big sigh, he eventually extends it to you. 

You unfold the paper and can’t help the way your eyes widen as you get an eyeful of the front page.

The front page, with a picture of you and Tim smack dab in the middle, specifically… specifically yesterday in front of the ice cream parlor, the two of you smiling at each other in a way that appears a little less than friendly. So, naturally, the headline is about exactly that. TIM DRAKE AND MYSTERY GIRLFRIEND OUT ON THE TOWN. Written by Vicki Vale. Of course. You expect nothing less. 

You scratch your cheek idly. “Huh.”

“I’m really sorry,” he says, the words seeming to burst out of him as he takes his seat again, face wrought with guilt. “I should’ve known they were there. I was careless. Should’ve had the cap or something, I don’t know, but I… I got cocky about it, since we’d gotten away with hanging out in public. The PR team is handling it, I swear.”

Handling it. Setting the record straight. You are not Tim Drake’s girlfriend. What a laughable concept. Well, you’re sure the elites are laughing. Probably the whole city. 

Your throat tightens uncomfortably and you fold the newspaper and set it down, shaking your head.

Man. What does he have to apologize for? If anything…

“I should apologize,” you chuckle, glancing away from him. “Since you got stuck with me for that. So, don’t worry about it, Timmy. You’re fine.”

Not much about you that is interesting, save for being friends with Tim. Poor Vicki Vale won’t have much to work with, you suspect. Though that will probably be the focus. That you’re just a no-name teacher’s aide, associating with one of the city’s most eligible. 

Whatever. You don’t want to be anyone else. 

That, you know, is true.

But Tim appears upset, bothered, by something, lips tugged in a frown, a deep wrinkle between his brows that you itch to smooth away with your fingers. The way he looks at you… almost like he’s hurt.

You shift forward. Why is he —?

Before you can ask, he is already speaking.

“The waffle maker is yours,” he says. “I don’t need it and if I do, I can come and use it here. I don’t mind. But… you’re wrong.”

Okay. That’s… a lot. The waffle maker doesn’t need to be prioritized, though, you don’t think. So…

“Wrong? What do you —?”

His eyes flicker around the kitchen, thinking quickly, before he huffs and leans around the table to take your chair and drag it closer to his. You let out a squeak at the jostling movement but don’t stop him, confused for the most part about what’s going on. 

“Tim?”

He shakes his head, reaching for you, hands sliding to your cheeks. Your breath catches in your throat, heart lurching in your chest.

“Tim?”

“Stuck with you,” he mutters, disapproval clear in his tone. “With you. That’s… wrong. So wrong it’s not even funny. If anyone is stuck with anyone, it’s me you’re stuck with.”

Wait, is he…

Your heart thuds in your ears, chest ballooning with nervous energy as you struggle to grapple with this conversation. With the way he is looking at you, his expression the softest it has ever been — for you. Directed at you. 

Heat rises to your face, making you dizzy. 

A thumb absently strokes over your cheek as he studies you. “There is no one else I’d rather it be. Even if it’s inconvenient for you, I’m selfish enough to admit that I don’t want anyone else. I just want…”

“Tim,” you whisper, unable to believe your ears.

“You,” he finishes quietly. “It’s you. I’m sorry.”

You both are wrong, then. 

No one is stuck with anyone. 

And you aren’t going to let him think that way, either.

“I’m not,” you say. “So, kiss me already.”

Tim kisses you.

He kisses you hungrily, a shade too desperate for eleven in the morning, in a way that sparks a fire inside you. But not a spark of creation, it’s the kindling of embers that are always burning, singeing through your veins, and you can’t help but kiss him back just as eagerly. It’d only been yesterday you wanted it desperately and now you have it and more.

The truth, reality forced upon you, for you to bear witness to how soft his lips are, the way he holds your face so gently, how he tastes like strawberries and maple syrup and the wish for more, more than that, takes hold of you violently. You press forward, your fingers sliding into his hair, silky-soft, and he lets out a sharp exhale, shivering in a way that makes you feel something dangerous. 

Astounding how you can have this and still want more.

But you’re starting to think you’ll always want more from him. More, more, more. Like you wouldn’t be satisfied until you two were one, cells and atoms intermingling. It’s a lot. A lot. For you and for him, the enormity of all of it, of what you might ask of him. From him. More than he can give, maybe, but if he feels the same as you do, then you know he’ll give you as much as he can, give everything. 

The necessity of air has you two breaking apart, but he just leans his forehead against yours, warm breath tickling your lips with each breath. 

You’re happy to stay there, eyes closed, catching your breath.

After a minute, he leans forward, lips brushing yours again, but softer this time, less hungry, less desperate, something terribly, terribly tender that has your chest exploding with warmth. You almost can’t believe it, that you’re here right now with Tim Drake cradling your face like you’re made of fine china and kissing you so sweetly, so full of honeyed affection, it clogs the arteries of your heart.

But it would be a good way to die, you think.

Especially here in Gotham.

Maybe you should give it some credit, though. 

Tragedy dogs the city constantly but even still, the impossible remains possible and you are all the more grateful for that fact.

You separate again and like before, you just lean your foreheads together, basking in the moment. 

Tim moves first and you suppress a shiver as his lips brush over your cheek.

“I guess we’re both wrong,” he murmurs.

Ah.

Neither of you can say you don’t deserve one another. Even if you feel it, he disagrees. And if he feels it, you disagree, too. And where else should you go with that?

Nowhere good, you think.

You smile. “I guess so.”

“So, then…” he starts, finally pulling away. Your eyes flutter open and your stomach swoops like you missed a step as you see the open affection in his gaze, written all over his face. It makes you feel treasured in a way you can’t quite cope with. Instead you focus on the flush on his cheeks, a tempting rush of blood that makes you want to kiss him again and see how warm the skin feels underneath your lips. 

“Yeah?”

“I know it’s a little backwards,” he goes on, thumb stroking your cheek, the other dropping to the side of your neck. Your hands find themselves on his forearms, muscles and tendons flexing beneath your fingertips. “But I wasn’t anticipating that.”

You nod. “Neither was I.”

Though you should’ve known your luck would run out eventually.

“I guess it doesn’t matter much now, anyway,” he says, then pauses, nervous, bashful energy filling him again. “Unless — I mean, I would like to take you out on an official date but, uh, I get it if that’s maybe too soon to really say —”

“Tim.”

He stops. You smile and it feels horribly honest, full of affection and warmth and with everything else not yet spoken. He softens, but the red in his cheeks darkens again. It pleases you too much.

“If you’re okay with it, then I’m okay with letting the press think we’re together,” you say, squeezing his wrist reassuringly. “Even if I wasn’t certain, it would probably be best to let them keep the rumor, rather than try and say we’re friends. But as it is…” 

As it is, you’ve since realized these feelings aren’t going anywhere and knowing that he reciprocates, that, maybe, he’s felt it for a while, too, it makes you hopeful. This isn’t just something fun to do over the summer, this is you seeing him in your kitchen in the mornings, still in pajamas, and thinking you’d like to always see him like this. This is from a few weeks ago, when you two slept together on the couch and it was the best sleep you’ve ever had and waking up with him still here, still a little sleepy and bleary-eyed, it made you think you wouldn’t mind having this for a really long time. 

For forever, you dare to think. 

“I know,” he says, and you think he really does know. 

He brushes a few strands of hair from your face, touch gentle. 

“So, then, in that case,” he starts, smile warm as he says your name, the syllables that wrap it equally as warm, “will you go out with me?”

“I thought you’d never ask,” you say, then lean forward to kiss him again.

You aren’t going to get tired of doing that anytime soon.

And by the way he kisses you back eagerly, you know he’s thinking the same.

You both agree to have your date on Friday night. 

But until then, neither of you see any point in changing anything. 

You’ll still drop by after school or he’ll come over. You’ll still watch movies together.

Nothing changes. The core of your routines remain the same.

Well, except for the fact that you two can’t really keep your hands off each other and the entire city now knows you two are dating.

Monday morning, you showed up in class at eight as usual, finding Ms. C. She said nothing much about it, other than, You’re lucky it’s the last week of school. Everyone is going to be unbearable.

Not trying to make you feel bad. A simple fact. A warning, even, and it turned out to be true. The amount of teachers and aides that dropped by the class to talk to you — even if you’d never once spoken to them — was ridiculous. 

Most of the kids were giggly about it. A few jokes. A little grossed out. You get that, though. They’re kids. Don’t know any better.

But for your colleagues and the odd parent that manages to corner you? It’s a bit ridiculous the way some of them look down their noses at the thought of you dating him.

Well, Mrs. Hightower who teaches eighth grade science, you’re married and also not in a better position. Like, okay, you… sort of get the icy mothers (and occasional father) who sniff at the thought with their designer clothes and yachts and vacation homes in Monaco; they have money, so they think they are better suited for him. (When that honestly has nothing to do with it, but you’re trying to make a point, so, you know.) But for your fellow aides and teachers? All of you are in the exact same boat. 

The life of a more of less public figure is a tricky one. 

And honestly, Tim isn’t even as famous as he could be. Imagine what it must be like for Bruce. 

Yikes.

Every gossip page in Gotham digs their grubby little fingers into your past. 

Naturally, they don’t get much.

Moved here at eighteen for college. Majored in education and minored in psychology. Graduated with honors (that’s probably the only exciting thing for them). Worked at Gotham Elementary in Burnley, then moved to Gotham Pointe. 

That’s it. 

But when they fail to find dirt, the conversation naturally turns to how you aren’t suited for him, how he should be dating the heiress to a massive company rather than some nobody teacher’s aide. 

You try not to let it bother you.

Tim works hard to assure you that he doesn’t care about that. That he never has and never will. You believe him, but with it shoved into your face at every given moment, you think you’re allowed the occasional moment of insecurity.

On Thursday, though, you’re in high spirits. The kids have let the issue go, focusing on some other thing that’s gotten their attention and today is probably the first day that only a few people try to talk to you about everything, allowing you to focus on doing your job. For the most part.

Tim told you to come by his place after school, that way you two could make dinner and spend the evening together. After showering and changing, you catch the elevator to head to the fifteenth floor. 

The doors slide open. You step out, your eyes on your phone, reading a text from your brother, who, alongside your parents, remain a little flabbergasted that you wound up in a relationship with Tim Drake. Though your brother claims he ‘saw it coming.’ Like hell he did. All he ever did was try and convince you to send him Tim’s debit card info. 

The sound of your name.

You blink and look up, meeting the wide, bright blue eyes of a pretty blonde.

Wait, you’ve seen her face before —

“Steph — I mean, um, Stephanie Brown, right?”

One of Tim’s good friends and an old ex-girlfriend. He said they dated when they were teens but broke up and are still good friends. 

She grins, stepping back out of the elevator, apparently having been waiting to take it back down. 

“In the flesh. I’m a little surprised you recognize me but it’s great to finally meet Tim’s mystery girlfriend.” The last part is a tease from the newspaper from last weekend.

You laugh. “Tim has pictures of you and the others around his place. That’s how I knew. And it’s nice to meet you, too.” 

“I was popping in to see about it,” she tells you, not minding the elevator doors that slide shut once more. “Wondering when he’d finally bring you around. He doesn’t like to share.”

You grin, cheeks warming. Her energy is infectious. You can see what might’ve drawn him to her. “It’s my last week of school and we have our date tomorrow. So, probably after the first date. The whole press reveal thing kinda threw a wrench in our plans.”

She grins back. “Well, the way he tells it, that was the thing that kicked your butts into gear, so I guess that’s how it has to go.”

“That… Yeah, that is true,” you say with an embarrassed laugh.

“Aw, it’s okay. It would’ve happened eventually. Tim’s just the type to really, uh, collect evidence and draw up conclusions before he likes to do anything.”

You laugh, because he is like that. 

“Either way,” she says, smiling. “At least you got me out of the way. Meeting all of us can be… a lot.”

“So I’ve heard.”

She snickers. “Guess we’ll see you sometime soon. Maybe around his birthday. Bruce’ll want to have dinner or something with him at the manor and I can join them just so you have another familiar face.”

“That would be great. Really. I appreciate it.”

“You really are as kind as he says,” she says, pouting a little. “Now I’m jealous.”

You laugh, flushing at the compliment — both at what he apparently told her and the fact that she agrees with it so much to the point that she’s jealous. Even if it’s just a tease. But honestly, the way her blue eyes twinkle, you don’t think it is. 

“I’ll leave you to it,” she says, hiking her bag higher over her shoulder. “This homework is calling me to kick its ass.”

Right. Tim told you she was in the grad program for social work at GU. She must be taking summer classes. 

“Good luck.”

“Thanks. You kids don’t do anything crazy, alright?” she says, pointing mock sternly at you as she presses the button for the elevator again. 

You snort. “We’ll do our best.”

She gives you a melodramatic thumbs-up of approval, then steps into the elevator when the doors open. 

The smile on your lips is hard to budge. Steph’s a whole lot of fun, isn’t she? And meeting her now did help some of those budding nerves that rear their head every time you think of the prospect of meeting his family.

But like she said. That might not be until July. Mid to late July, really, since his birthday is on the nineteenth. Speaking of, you need to get back to the rec center to continue working on his gift… Maybe you can do that sometime next week…

Coming up to his door a second later, you unlock it and step inside. 

“Honey, I’m home!” you call out in a sing-song tone, slipping off your slides and locking the door behind you. 

Tim steps out from the kitchen, an expectant look on his face. “You saw Steph on your way here, didn’t you?”

You grin. “Sure did! She’s fun.”

“I wasn’t expecting her today. She wanted to ambush me about you, I think.”

“See when you’ll bring me around? Yeah, she said the same to me.”

He rolls his eyes, exasperated but still fond. “We haven’t even had our first official date. Honestly. They’re all a bunch of gossips, you know? I’m surprised it was just her that ended up coming. I was expecting Cass and Duke, too. Maybe even Alfred. Though he’d come with a much better excuse than ‘I was just on this side of town.’”

You laugh and he shakes his head, extending a hand that you take, not resisting as he ropes you into his embrace. 

“In any case,” he starts, pressing a kiss to your cheek before you sink into the circle of his arms, “how was your day?”

“S’okay. The kids were good.”

“And the teachers?”

You grin into the collar of his t-shirt. “Mostly behaved. They’ve finally grasped some semblance of self-restraint, so, wasn’t too bad.”

He hums, one hand stroking up your back, the other at your hip. You’ve always known Tim was particularly tactile but since everything between you, it’s been turned up a notch. Not that you are complaining. You’re less touch-starved these days, just because of him, but you’ll hardly say no to more of it. 

“How was yours?”

Another hum as he presses his face to your hair. 

“Fine. Lucius asked me to help with some IT stuff and I did that today. Easy work. Cleaned a bit. I sterilized those shells I got for the boys, by the way, and put them in the tank. Don’t know if you saw. Then I saw Steph, as you know. Just started dinner right now.”

“Look at you. All the best qualities of a housewife.”

“Don’t pretend you don’t like it, honey.”

You giggle, though your face warms at the endearment, and he can tell by being so close to you, chuckling softly as he leans down to finally kiss you. 

You press closer, sliding your arms around his neck while his lock around your waist. The full press of his lean body against yours makes your head spin. Stupid Tim and his stupid muscles…

You’re posturing, of course.

You’re… happy. Glowing with it, according to one of the kinder parents who ran into you at school. You believe it, mostly because some part of you doesn’t believe this is actually happening. That Tim kissed you breathless on Sunday and told you he wanted you. The other part of you basks in the thought, in the realization, in the fact that you get to come home to this. 

You’re so, so lucky. 

Nothing can beat it.

Absolutely nothing.  

━ end notes

1. dc editorial’s worst decision was having steph start wearing the bat symbol. leave her OUT OF IT! let spoiler stand on her own! it’s not like bruce ever approved of her.. or tim for that matter… they did her so dirty… ANYWAY

2. all waffle houses are conduits of gotham energy. thats why they’re Like That. food’s absolutely SCRUMPTIOUS tho

3. pleased to report it is canon that tim uses pet names. that tim is, in general, pretty soft with his s/os. here’s a soft moment with him and steph from robin (1993): page 1 / page 2 (read them consecutively in that order!). then another one with tim being very sweet... and finally, the page where he calls her ‘sweetie’ (and she calls him that too!).

in general, i am not too fond of sweetie as a pet name. however, i am very much appreciative of honey. it has a good balance of domesticity and affection, you know? i wouldn’t be adverse to sweetheart either. or baby. so ;)

4. on that note i continue to push my housewife/houseboyfriend(husband?) tim agenda. thank you.

anyway... about time wasn't it ;)))) we have a little ways to go before the end but i promise it's nothing too extreme. i never really wanted to make their confession a Massive Angsty thing. i mean there is stuff to deal with, particularly what tim said and reader slightly misinterpreting it (because he is apologizing for it being him but also because of what he does that she still does not know about). and no worries, we will deal with that. but ultimately, it won't be made into a Big Thing. this fic isn't really centered around that - i want it to be comforting, you know? but we still have to handle the hangups that come with being a civilian and dating a vigilante LOL

reblogs are appreciated!

[captainx-camino]

I got Buggy done yesterday just in time for my local Japanese Festival event today so, here are some highlights:

Starting off small, here's the wig (and scarf, which I didn't make) chilling on my wig head waiting for me to struggle to put it on.

90% of the work I did on this wig is going to be covered the entire time I'm wearing it, but did I let that stop me from hand laying an entire glued hairline? Lmao of course not! That would have been easy, and we don't do easy in this house!

As stated above, I didn't make the cap I just got one online simply because I was having shit luck finding the striped fabrics I would have needed and the idea of having to sew two different stripes together was giving me hives.

Ascot, vest, gloves and glove cuffs~ In other words, 90% of the work of this costume and his accessory friends.

The Ascot was stitched together by my lovely partner via the piss poor instructions I was able to give them on how I wanted it made. Seriously, give them a round of applause for somehow decoding my incoherent babbling. This is beautiful. @kadaverc0splay did a fantastic job.

The gloves are just purchased leather fencing gloves of which I fold under the length and hide it under the cuffs I made, which are simply craft foam, paint, and buckles I had to order online with almost not enough time to get them because, for some reason, craft stores no longer find it necessary to carry and assortment of styles and sizes of buckles. *Internal screaming*

*sharp inhale* Ok. The vest. *Reconsiders every life choice he's ever made* This thing is a BEAST. It was a pain to make, it's a pain to wear, the leather belting that secures the garment closed is held on by glue, prayers, and human sacrifice via my own blood, sweat, and tears. It took me more hours than I care to even think about, let alone admit, to do all the top stitching on this godforsaken goblin of a clown man and that's not even half of the ironic tragedy that gathering the supplies for this disaster was.

Not only did I have to replace more than one of the FIVE DIFFERENT TYPES OF RIBBON AND TRIM THIS BASTARD HAS ON HIS VEST but nowhere had everything I needed in enough yards to complete anything I needed done, so I had to make several trips and buy several different things to finish any part of it. INCLUDING THE BUCKLES, which arrived here Thursday...for an event today. So, that was fun.

Oh, and also, the white ribbon is wired, but the wire refused to be pulled out, so it's just in there now I guess. Lucky me!

(the belts aren't entirely accurate, but I'll save adding the additional headache that will cause for the con I'll be wearing this to next spring. I'm tired.)

Buggy's many belts of despair and loathing...

I swear the cosplay gods are never kind to me, but tricking me into thinking this was going to go well because I was able to get some good sized chunks of real, genuine leather for dirt cheap? Not cool, guys!

The leather was chocolate brown and not black, as I had previously believed it to be upon purchase. So, it had to be painted with latex paint. (Thank you again, pretty boy, I seriously couldn't have done it without you. Seriously.) Actually , another round of applause for all the belts being painted by my partner, because they also painted the foam under belt for me. Because he was smart and got his costume done several days ago.

Not me. I'm not that bright. No. But alas, we trudge forward.

And by trudge...

These boots weren't made for walking, these boots were made for traversing through the dusty floor of the fun house you've built around yourself to forget how salty your rat ex has left you - AND IT SHOWS!

Ignore my poorly made foam buckles. I'm not going to repeat myself about that bs, lest I may sink back into a depressive state equaled only by my ability to pass it off as a joke. These crumpled, sad black asskickers were originally brown! And suede. Don't ask me how I got them to look like old, worn leather. I simply fell into a dissociative state and awoke with black boots and no memory of where I'd been. The belts are foam, and the weird pattern on his tongue is simply a quilting square from Joanne fabrics that I glued on and then mod podged over.

As stated above, the buckles are foam and painted. They look awful, but if anyone is close enough to my feet to say something about it, my foot is going to need to detach to be removed from betwixt their teeth.

The entire costume was also weathered by @kadaverc0splay (including the pants, which are not pictured here because I didn't really do anything to them) while I cried over the wig that you won't see most of so you know what, just send all your praise to them I'm not even here all I did was top stitch and cry.

All in all, and in true Buggy fashion, the build of this costume was entirely, and regrettably, failing upward. Because, hot damn, did it come together. 🔥

See you at Aki Matsuri.

I never want to do this again~!

[ericaand]

Waking Up with Joseph Quinn - Part 4

Characters: Joseph Quinn x Fem!Reader

Summary: You and Joseph have interviews today, and a question you never expected comes up.

Word Count: 1000+

Warnings: Angst

MASTERLIST

You nuzzled your head between Joe's shoulder and neck, as the smell of his cigarettes and cologne filled your nostrils. You were so comfortable and at peace, that you ended up dozing off.

"Ey love were here." Joseph gently shook his shoulder.

Hazey-eyed, you glance to your right to find you are stopped near a large industrial building. Probably one you'd go right past if you didn't know you were going there.

As you enter, you have someone rush up to you. "Y/n, hi, I'm going to be assisting your today during the interviews and such. Can I get you anything before your first interview? Which is in about 20 minutes, by the way."

You look behind you, Joseph is no longer there, but beside you a few feet away; being handed a list and pointed in the direction he was meant to go.

"Um, maybe just, um a water?" You wave to Joseph as you follow your assistant to a long hallway with multiple doors on either side.

"My name is Winston. Please, sit here; someone will be in briefly to fix your makeup and hair. I'll grab your water. Be right back."

The door shut, as you walked to a stylist chair with mirrors surrounding you. There were a few more chairs, but none of them filled. The room was cold and quiet, with concrete floors and walls that seemed to connect. You closed your eyes and tilted your head back, reminiscing the past 48 hours, realizing that it's been some of the best times in your life.

You jumped as the door swiftly opened, Winston, walking in with a bottle of water and cell phone in his other hand. Behind him was a short woman with bright red hair and a black apron, she was carrying a small train case and a rounded flat iron.

The woman chewed gum and stuck her hand toward your body, "My name's Lorin. Anything, in particular, you'd like me to 'fix'?" She air quoted.

You shrugged and shook your head. "Do whatever you think makes me look pretty."

"Well, honey, that'll be easy." She snorted.

She placed minimal makeup on your face, and curled bits and pieces of your hair, spraying a thick layer of hairspray after.

Winston looks up from his phone, "Perfect timing. Let's go. First interview of the day."

You're whisked away, with nothing but the taste of hairspray in your mouth. You were seated, alone this time. You took a deep breath and began to shake your knee. You've never done an interview alone before. Usually, you'd have others to turn to or to help distract the interviewer, but not now.

You shake hands with the gentleman next to you, who then proceeds to shuffle through small white cards on his lap.

"Here we go! You're on!" You hear from behind the camera.

"So, y/n, how're you doing today? Saw that you and the cast won several rewards last night. Congrats!"

"Hi, thanks! It was absolutely incredible. Never thought I'd even be there and experience any of that. It was most definitely a night to remember. I'm doing well today though. How are you?" You cross your leg over the other and lean on your hip, attempting to appear more comfortable.

"I'm good, I'm good." He proceeds to ask questions related to your minimal previous work, what your favorite scene was to do, and other things related to working on set and with the cast mates.

"I see we're running out of time, I have one last question; I hope you don't mind. It's been all over social media today, that you and Joseph Quinn walked out of the award show yesterday together and got in the same car." He smirked and tilted his head toward you. "You two looked pretty cozy, I must say. Can you spill the tea on your relationship with him?"

Your cheeks felt firey red, as you pulled your mouth into an awkward smile. This was not prepared for one bit. You blurted out whatever came to mind first. "Yeah, absolutely! He's a great boyfriend and I'm really lucky to have him!"

"Oh wow. Well, that's awesome news. Congrats you two!"

Your heart was thudding so hard you weren't sure if you were going to make it out of the room without a panic attack.

After a few more interviews, some alone, some with other cast mates, you awaited Joesph's return to the car. Your knee bobbed up and down, as you rested your head on your hand with your eyes closed.

You heard the door open opposite to you, as Joseph slid in. This time, creating much more space between you two than previously. Joseph leans forward and informs the driver to head back to the hotel. You wait to see if he going to initiate conversation, but after a few minutes, you cannot stand the silence anymore.

"Hey, how were the interviews?" You attempt to say cheerily.

"They were fine. I see yours went well." He continues to stare ahead.

You knitted your brows together, squinted your eyes, and shook your head. "What do you mean?"

"Y/n, boyfriend?" He turns to you, shrugs, and shakes his head. "Why'd you do that? Especially on an international interview, of all places. Why couldn't we have kept this between us?"

"Joseph, I know. I'm sorry. He bombarded me with that question, I wasn't expecting it. I didn't know what to say!" You spoke hurriedly. "What's the big deal? Are you ashamed of me? Don't want anyone to know you're dating a C-Class celebrity? What, am I too ugly for you? I don't 'fit' into your circle well enough?" By now, you'd leaned into his space a little farther.

"I dunno why you'd even think those things. I've NEVER said anything even remotely close to that."

The car stopped in front of the hotel you and Joseph had been staying at. You grabbed the door handle, "Well, you didn't have to." You swung the door open and marched up the stairs into the lobby.

Before Joseph could even reach you, you'd begun to make your way to your room. You huffed your way down the hall, slamming your feet as quietly as possible. You fell face first on your bed, slamming a fist into it.

A few minutes after, you heard a knock on the door. You moped toward the door, peering through the peephole, expecting to see curly locks, only to be met with a set of familiar eyes.

[caffieneaddictt18]

Anything for you

*unedited*

As you're reading a book on different herbs and their uses, metaphysical and physical, you start to play with your hair. It kinda reminds you that the last time you had gotten your hair done was a while ago and it was so you're friend had a model for her graduating test from cosmetology school.

You set the book down and pull out your laptop, looking for hair services. Just a cute trim ans maybe a styling. You just want to feel cared for.

"Hey, honey. Whatcha doin?" Your partner comes over and kisses your cheek before going and starting the kettle, noticing the look on your face. You haven't read in a while and tea was always a great start to entering the 'reading zone' as they called it.

"Just lookin at something. I'm running low on Queen Anne's Lace." A simple little white lie. Shouldn't be too bad when you leave to go get your hair done.

"Oh, are you? I will leave you to it then." Your partner hands you your tea and kisses you again, on the lips, before going to their computer to play games.

You watch them carefully, drinking your tea and scrolling through until you find a place you like. You then put the laptop away, and take out the book you were reading. As you read, you jot down notes about apecific herbs and their uses.

Your partner sees this in the reflection of their glass case, and smirks.

---------‐--------------------------------------------

The next day, as your partner is in their office, you pass by in a comfy-cute outfit. "Hey, babes! I'm gonna go get my hair done!"

"Here you go, baby." Your partner gives you two hundred dollars, cash, that seemed to appear out of thin air.

You stop before you can pass the door and hesistantly take it. "Um... thank you, Baby." You slowly walk away and your partner smirks again. They get up and follow you to the garage.

As you're about to get in, they gently pin you against your car.

"Anytime, Honey~" and they hold your waist tightly as they mash their mouth against yours. They kiss you just long enough to make you feel dazed for a short while. When you finally part, they slowly and carefully open your door for you and get you in, buckling you up. They open the garage door as you start the car.

"Have fun, Baby!" They wave as you drive off to the salon.

When you get back, you show off your hair.

"You are stunning, Gorgeous." They gently take your hands in theirs and spin you, making your hair gently spin too.

----‐-------------------------------------------------

It has now been about a month since you got your hair done, and you still feel amazing.

As you are getting dressed for the day, complete with the evil eye pendant necklace and black bag, your partner speaks up.

"Hey, let's go get your nails done today. I'll pay." They casually just say it like it's no big deal. But this is the first time anyone has done this. It kind of is a big deal.

"Are you sure? Nail's aren't cheap. Especially the ones I like to get." You are hesitant about taking this offer, especially since they have already shelled out 200 just for your hair. It feels wrong somehow...

"Yeah. What about blue, like your necklace, in french tips? Or a dark blue that goes with your outfit and necklace?" They bring up ideas you haven't even thought of. Never would you ever think to do a blue French Tip nail set, let alone just painting your nails blue. You have painted your nails black, and white, and even a clear coat with sparkles in it for 2012 New Years. But never blue. Maybe they saw all the TikToks on women's nail colors and their meanings...

"Okay... if you're sure." You reluctantly agree. They seem happy that you're letting them spoil you.

"I'm sure, Darlin'." They gently caress your upper arms, trying to assure you; before gliding their fingertips down and bring your hands to their lips. Then you both head out the door, awaiting whatever adventures they have planned out.

------------------------------------------------------

"Hey, hun! What do you think about going to the mall?" You shout into the house, not ecpecting a response back.

"Sounds great, babe!" Their voice shouts back at you, "Let's get ready snd then we can go!" You see a figure move from a door and go into your bedroom.

As you both get into their car, your partner asks, "So... what's with the mall trip? I'm not upset. Just curious."

Trusting that your partner isn't upset, you tell them. "I haven't been in a while, so I just want to look around. Possibly grab a few things, but mostly window shop."

"Okay, Dove." They bring your hand up and kiss it as they watch the road, glancing at you whenever they can.

When you reach the mall, you enter and look around. Still has that same magic... Mall Magic.

You grab your partner's hand and take them to the food court first. If your hands are full, you won't get anything. So you grab a large lemonade, and they get a soft pretzel. You drag them through different stores, pointing out things. "Wow! I haven't seen that band in so long!" "Whoa! They actually have it in stock?! I haven't been able to find this anywhere!" "This is pretty."

Your partner takes notes of it all and tell you to go rest. Grab another lemonade and something to eat. "You've walked enough, baby. Now rest."

As you are eating your to-go salad and another lemonade, you see your partner.

And their full hands.

"Honey!" You rush to get up, and help them, "What did you do?!" You ask them, worried for their answer.

"I noticed what you bought and what you didn't. But the stuff I saw you look at, was the stuff I got." They smile and walk back to the table, arms lighter now.

"I thought you were on your phone." You look at them quizzically.

"I was. Writing down everything you liked but didn't buy. So I bought it for you." They smile and grab the chicken sandwhich & soda you bought for them.

"Baby... why have you been spoiling me? I'm grateful, but i don't understand why." You take another bite of your salad.

They sigh, setting down their food. This has just turned into a serious talk. "You can talk to me, Baby. What's going on?" You persist, wanting to find out what is plaguing your partner so much they felt like they had to spoil you.

"I... I just see the way you have been treating yourself recently. It's not the healthiest. You skipped dinner last night and then skipped breakfast this morning. You were going to skip lunch if I didn't have you get food. And you have been pushing yourself so hard... I don't ever want you to do that. I love you. I... I want you to love yourself the way I do." They look at you like a puppy with its tail between its legs, like it got caught doing something bad.

"Oh, baby..." You grab their face gently and kiss them even softer.

"Thank you..."

------------------------------------------------------

Author's Cup of Tea:

Okay. I know this isn't typically what I post, but I've been drawn to it like a moth to a flame, so i decided to finish it.

At 9:25 pm...

When I have work at 5 am...

(ihonestlyjustwantthistohappentome🤭imsorry)

[onsunnyside]

sonny sonny sonny i hope you're done w exams bc im thotting out tonight. this gif is giving bonnie and clyde vibes or just clyde!ari and the unsuspecting little thing that asked to hitchhike with him 😖 oo or was she taken as a hostage during one of his robberies, is curtis his partner in crime, SO MANY THOTS

gif credit to @lilacevans!!!

hehe hi bestie brandy, i have two more left then i'm free until January 😣 but i always have time for thots !! ESPECIALLY THIS ONE:

i get tornado by jesse jo stark vibes🌪 you've been waiting for this day for months, counting down the days until you could leave your hometown and venture off somewhere new !! somewhere bigger and brighter !! you've worked non-stop for years, sometimes two/three jobs at once while living with your parents. your late teens/early twenties were focused on your wild naive dreams, while your friends got married or started their careers, you were stuck in diners and shops, saving every cent for the future outside of this blip on a map.

you only needed a ride to the neighbouring city, the one with a train station that could take you somewhere far, far away. as you savour your last milkshake at your fave diner, you overhear a stranger talking about his next stop, another city but in the same direction as yours !!

so you take a chance and ask if you could hitch a ride: "I'll pay you! I just... I gotta get out of here." You stare down at your bags, trembling under his hard gaze, "please, it has to be today... I've had it marked down forever!"

the handsome man is quiet for a few moments, silently admiring your green sundress and old sneakers. you haven't even told him your name yet asked for a ride. "does it have to be right now, or can you wait?"

"I-I can wait, sir. I'm very patient, I promise."

he cocks a grin and nods to the seat across the table, "why don't you have a seat? let's get to know each other before sittin' in a car for over an hour."

in hindsight, you should've never trusted this stranger, regardless if Ari gave you butterflies and seemed genuinely interested in your small-town life and big-city dreams. it all happened very fast: "you ever seen a gun before?" then a switch flipped and one of the waitresses was bleeding, everyone was screaming until Ari demanded for silence and "all the fuckin' money" from the register and the other patrons. you must've blacked out bc the next moment you're dazed in the backseat with handcuffs around your wrists. He promised not to make it too tight, "only if you're a good girl, okay?"

and it doesn't just end there: after Ari gets tired of your crying and pleading for freedom, he gags you with a bandana. then he pulls over on a dead-end road with abandoned houses and strangely enough, there's someone else there. he's leaning against the black and white car with a cigarette between his fingers.

The sheriff walks right past you, ignoring your loud whimpers and restless banging on the window. His eyes are shaded by dark glasses as he opens the passenger side and slides in. You recognize him from around town, he's as tall as Ari, and as broad as a mountain. He's driven you home a few times on late nights and even attended dinners hosted by your father, you thought he was a good guy.

As he settles into the leather, he glances over his shoulder, and a soft sigh falls from his pink lips. "You know, her daddy is close with the mayor."

Ari shrugs, "she should've known better."

You weep because he's right, you should've known better! (me thinks... reader is just a little dummy blinded by her dreams 🥺 quite sad if you think about it. she's too trusting of others, and time after time, she's been betrayed but she's never learnt her lesson).

"She's a gem, that's for sure." Sherrif Everett notices the bags on the floor, "Oh, are you skippin' town, sweetheart?"

You can't answer and just stare at him, broken and confused. You watch in horror as he takes one of the duffle bags, exchanging a handshake with your captor.

"Any guess on when you'll be back?"

Has he been here before?

"Maybe a week or so, who knows..." He licks his lips, blue eyes meeting yours through the rearview mirror, "this sweet thing may be of more use than just lookin' cute."

many possibilities here !! stockholm syndrome? does the reader end up being Ari's partner in crime? does she ever escape or does she get trapped in it all? as for Ari, has he been here before but the police always cover it up? one thing is for sure: Ari isn't ever going to let her go... and he'll do whatever it takes to keep her... if you catch my drift...

(ALSO SHERIFF CURTIS !! SHARING IS CARING ???)

THIS WHOLE THING GIVES ME JESSE JO STARK VIBES !!

[vashsmunch]

Duet

Millions Knives x GN Reader

Synopsis: you and Nai are college roommates, who often like to play the piano for each other

Warnings: Slight hurt/comfort

─── · 。ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

"Ugh, how did it go again?"

You sniffed, wiping a stray tear from your eye as your finger grazed over the white and black keys. Your posture was awful, but you couldn't be bothered. A singular note rang out as you pressed down, isolated and deafening in the silence. All you wanted was to remember that song.

"It's quite late for you to be up."

A weighty sigh left your lips as Nai walked up next to you, staring at the piano you were seated at. "I couldn't sleep. I thought maybe playing would help, but it's not," You laughed dryly, leaning back and closing your eyes.

A long few moments passed, neither of you speaking. You'd grown accustomed to him quietly appearing by your side, though it used to scare you to death before. A peculiar roommate, sure, but endearing once you got to know him. He'd told you once that silence didn't necessarily have to be filled, and since then, it'd stuck. You would often complete schoolwork on the couch together, occasionally speaking up when someone (you) would have trouble understanding a concept. The other (Nai) would give a few words of advice, then it was back to the comfortable silence. At the end of every school day, the best part was being at home, just coexisting with him. Occasionally you would play songs for each other, depending on how much work you had to do. It was the way you two showed appreciation; it was more meaningful than words in that aspect.

He sat beside you on the bench, and you laid your head on his shoulder. You scooted closer to him, trying to get comfortable. A slight jolt of surprise, but he relaxed as he got used to the feeling of you two being like this. "That song I always play... it's the last one I remember from my old home. I feel like I'll forget all the memories I made there if I don't play it." 

You'd never really told Nai about your past before; the two of you had mutually agreed that you shared a space, and that was it. Maybe it was the time; it was pretty late. Perhaps it was the scent of fabric softener flooding your senses. He must've done laundry today. But soon, the words just started spilling out of you. Suddenly, you were telling him about your past, the experiences you'd had before you came to university, trying to escape. You spoke about your future and trying to carve out your own path from the rubble of your previous surroundings. And at the end of it all, you were thanking him. For the stability he brought you since living here and how it was the first time you felt like you were truly home.

Nai didn't say anything. He just let you ramble, listening to your words tumbling over each other as he took in every bit of information. After a few moments had passed, he spoke. "You were trying to play that song, yes?" You nodded softly, not really comprehending what he was saying.

It wasn't until you heard the first few gentle notes that your eyes widened, and you turned your head to stare at him. He was playing, more delicately than you'd ever heard him play any melody. "It wasn't difficult to remember, considering how much I would hear it," His voice wasn't laced with the usual tone of sarcasm but with something a bit more emotional. The fact that he had remembered the tune at all was dumbfounding, but he was also playing it perfectly. It was like he was trying to tell you something; with every key he pressed, he was writing a letter that only you could decipher.

"Nai... do you..?"

"You weren't the only one who cherished our time together," He didn't meet your gaze as he continued playing, but his words were soft and gentle. "Being callous is all I've ever known, and you especially have been on the receiving end of it." You let out a soft snort as you recalled the first time the two of you had met. He had given you the most distasteful look as you stumbled through the front door, carrying all your belongings. His eyebrows crinkled in disgust, staring as you tried to not fall over from the sheer weight of boxes. Not the most graceful of introductions, and sure, he was mean at times (most of the time). But he was also endearing and affectionate, never doing too much when he could sense you were tired. It was the little things like that that made you fall for him, and up until this point, it'd never occurred to you that perhaps he felt the same way.

"I'm well aware that I am not the most likable person on the planet. But you never seemed to be affected by that. You always treated me like an equal, even when I didn't do the same. I've etched into my brain countless times every action you've done. Every word you've uttered plays through my heart like the sweetest melody I've ever had the blessing to hear. Perhaps I don't deserve to feel so elated being here with you. But to me, the entirety of my life has been crafted for this exact moment. I'm devoted to you. Every need and want you could ever desire, I'll provide. Because to me, you're everything. And to be without you is a feeling I never want to experience ever again."

[mysecretlittlelibrary]

Wash Day With Loki

Pairing: Loki x Black!Reader

Word Count: 1.2k

Warnings: not a single one it's so fluffy and great

Genre: it's all fluff because we love self-indulgence in this household

Summary: what wash days are like with your boyfriend Loki

***

You hum along to the music playing from your speaker while you rinse the shampoo out of your hair. This is the easy part; when you're done, you cut the water off to tackle conditioning and detangling your hair. You saturate your hair with conditioner and sit on the floor of your shower. Detangling always takes at least thirty minutes so you usually just sit down to do it. Starting at the back you slowly work through small sections with your wide tooth comb and sing with your playlist to make the time passing more enjoyable. With how loud your music is playing so you can hear it above the shower when you turn it back on, you don't notice your boyfriend announce himself in your home. You don't even realize he's here until your music and singing lead him to open the bathroom door looking for you.

"Hey y/n, I was- oh, is today wash day?" Loki asks taking in the state of the room.

"Yeah, finally had enough time to take care of it."

"In that case, I'll get started on dinner. Did you need anything?"

"Oh can you grab me a t-shirt for my hair? I forgot to get one before I got in the shower."

"Sure, cotton right?"

"Yes please!" You call. Loki hums and exits the bathroom, returning quickly, shirt in hand, at least you assume that's the white fabric you see through the frosted glass of your shower door.

"Found one, I'm gonna leave it by the sink, okay?"

"Oh no, I was doing stuff at the sink there might still be product on it. Can you put it on the toilet seat? Just make sure the lid is down." You tell him.

"I feel like telling me to put the lid down wasn't necessary as the alternative would be to drop the shirt you plan to dry your hair with... into toilet water." Loki says and you're sure he's rolling his eyes at you.

"It's not that I think you're stupid it's just that it's the kind of mistake I would make from moving too fast." You explain to him and he chuckles.

"Sure whatever, did you have any preferences for dinner?"

"Whatever you make will be good!" You say.

"Are you almost done?" He asks.

"It'll be about twenty minutes. I'm like halfway through detangling."

"Oh what are you doing with your hair this time? Or are you still wearing it out?" He asks.

"Loki?" You hum.

"Yes?"

"Go make dinner." You try to sound stern but you can't help but giggle a little.

"Hey I'm only curious."

"Ask me again when I get out of the shower and I'll give you all the answers you want." You roll your eyes.

"Fine. Dinner will be ready when you're done." Loki says and after a moment you hear the bathroom door shut, leaving you to your music and your hair. You finish detangling and give the conditioner some time to sit in your hair while you wash your face and body before finally rinsing it out, carefully trying not to re-tangle it in the process. When you're satisfied with your job on your hair you turn off the shower and grab your towel, drying enough to step out and lightly pat your hair so it's not dripping everywhere before you wrap it with the shirt Loki left so you can focus on your body before dealing with the next step. You turn off your speaker as well, shuffling to your room with it in hand. You put on your favorite lotion and then get dressed, putting on a pair of shorts and a hoodie you and Loki basically share. You bought it for him, but he really only wears it after you've worn it enough that it smells like you and then you wear it again when he drops it back in your room, you assume because it's worn off. As you walk out to join Loki in the kitchen, you unwrap your hair and rub the shirt through it, running it over sections of your hair like you would a towel in order to dry it.

"All done?" Loki asks over his shoulder.

"Yep. What'd you end up making?" You sit at the island with your hands still working your hair with the shirt.

"A chicken tortilla soup. Saw the recipe online. Thought you'd like it."

"I mean, you cook pretty well so I'm sure it'll be good." You tell him with a shrug and a smile.

"Thank you my love." He says ladling two bowls from the pot and bringing them over to sit beside you.

"Smells good." You say before you've tried it. "Tastes even better." You add.

"I'm glad you like it." He smiles. "So what're you doing with your hair next? I'm dying to know."

"I'm doing those butterfly locs again. They were super cute last time."

"Are you doing them tonight?"

"Nah just parting the hair. I'll do the actual locs part tomorrow." You shake your head.

"Do you need any help?"

"No I think I've got it Loki but thank you for offering."

"You always say that and then I end up sectioning like half of the back." He muses.

"Well if you're gonna complain about it-"

"I'm not complaining. You know I never mind helping you with your hair." Loki says.

"You should let me do your hair one day." You smile.

"What would you do to it?" Loki's eyes narrow skeptically.

"We could do any number of things really but I'd either curl it or braid it." You shrug.

"Why?"

"You never change your hair. I'm just curious what it would look like."

"Do you not like it as it is?"

"Don't be silly your hair is fine of course pumpkin. It's well-kept and that's really the only detail that matters to me. It's just that your hair is long enough to play with and it makes me want to do things to it that's all." You tell him.

"I'll consider it, but nothing that's going to be difficult to undo." He warns you.

"Relax it's not like I'm asking to dye it some crazy color- although I bet you'd look cute with silver hair. Or perhaps green since that's your color." You hum.

"I am not changing my hair color y/n." Loki warns you.

"I won't do anything permanent. I've already agreed, but if you're ever having a crisis and desperately want a change- I would love to see you with some wildly colored hair." You try to hide unsuccessfully to hide your smile.

"You are impossible." He rolls his eyes but the amusement is clear on his face.

"You say that now but the seed is planted. I bet you'll try it."

"I will leave the wildly colored hair to you my love. Since you can do it without all the damaging chemicals with all your protective styles." Loki says.

"Do you have a favorite on me?" You ask.

"I love anything that makes you happy." He brings your hand up to his lips.

"Well, you're very good at that." You giggle, at this point the two of you have finished your bowls of soup and Loki takes them to the sink.

"I pride myself on it." He says. "Now, let's go get you ready to do these locs tomorrow before you get too tired to finish sectioning." He claps before tugging you back towards your room. You follow him happily. It shouldn't surprise you that with how long Loki has lived you're not the first Black person he's dated honestly, but still, it always surprises you a little just how much he understands about certain things and how much he enjoys getting involved too. It's sweet how he uses things like your haircare as times to bond with you. You're sure your boyfriend will never cease finding ways to amaze you, and that's not even because he's a god.

***