#all rolled into a pretty chaotic package

[gillyweedgrl]

Does being a combination bisexual himbo and emotional support gremlin make one a double threat or a quadruple threat?

Asking for a friend…

[kedsandtubesocks]

this high of you & me

Lucien Flores x F!Reader

summary: Lucien Flores is your weed dealer and you think that’s about it

warnings/tags: 18+ MDNI. dealer!Lucien AU, drug use and discussion, shotgunning, sweet giggly moments, mentions of unspecified age gap (reader’s age is not mentioned but Lucien is older) reader and Lucien under the influence but he’s still a consent king, one use of ‘good girl,’ light making out

word count: 1.4k

a/n: I wrote this in a possessed fever after that clip & I know this might not reflect his personality once the movie comes out but I just had to I’m sorry, thank you to @lowlights & @tightjeansjavi for letting me scream about this and if you decide to read this - know I’m thanking you a million times

His house is an eclectic mess.

There’s a framed photo of Gustav Klmit’s ‘The Kiss’ beside a black light poster of a tiger. His awful leather black couch screams of a bachelor refusing to grow up.

“All I have to drink is bad tap water, ginger ale, or a mini grey goose sample.” Lucien yells from his kitchen.

“Uh, the ginger ale is fine.” You answer back.

This is the first time you’ve ever been alone with him.

Normally you’ve only experienced him with your best friend and his boyfriend. They’re the ones, through a friend of a friend, who introduced you to Lucien.

That’s how he became your dealer.

Now as you try to seem busy, you scan the book shelves in his living room.

There are many things that catch your eye -

The Alchemist by Paulo Coehlo, a very abstract but suggestively sexual mini sculpture of two beings entangled in a type of wave like motion, a clear quartz crystal and a cute elephant figurine.

The man known as Lucien Flores is no short close to a chaotic puff of smoke you think you’re never meant to catch.

Behind you, you hear him rearranging things on his coffee table.

“You gonna joint me, or not?”

His pun makes you snort.

On the glass coffee table sits your drink among a cluttered collection of things.

“You asked for the usual right?” He mutters preparing everything like someone out a check out counter.

“Yeah, but I can go after you give me the- ”

“No, no it’s all good.” He reassures quickly, cutting you off. “I got nothing planned and company is always nice.”

He packages up the weed in the typical baggies he uses. This time they're holographic blue, almost matching his charming but strange vibes in a strange way.

“What happened to the dragon ball z themed bags you had?” You ask jokingly.

“Ran out.” He pouts and you grin.

After separating and packing up everything, he moves to start grinding the weed. Then with a click on his remote his stereo flows to life.

Frank Ocean’s ‘Pink + White’ begins playing and illuminates the room.

Small talk comes. Lucien asks about how work is going, any new shows you’ve gotten into.

He’s charming, like a bizzare off highway tourist attraction you can’t seem to leave.

“No need to sit on the floor. Come on. Spots open right here.” Lucien grins patting the couch beside him.

“Your couch is a pain, hate how it sticks to me.” You reply with a scrunch up face.

“Maybe I want you to keep sticking to it?” He offers light and you roll your eyes.

Being a notorious flirt, you try not to fall under his sweet words spell.

You’re about to make a quip back until you see him yank out a fuzzy blanket and spread it across the couch.

“What a gentleman.” You dryly smirk and Lucien shrugs.

But you rise up to sit besides him, close but not comfortably so.

“How much extra is this gonna cost me hm?” You muse watching him pack the bowl.

“Don’t you know the old saying, pretty babes don’t pay?” Lucien remarks so effortlessly.

Your throat gets a bit dry and you’re thankful for the ginger ale wetting your lips.

The lovely glass pipe, swirled with so many unique colors like the silk button up shirts Lucien wears, is handed to you.

“You first.” Lucien grins.

He even lights it for you, a modern day chivalrous knight in his own fucked up unique way.

The first inhale is always a favorite of yours. The smoke fills you, tickles your senses. But you can’t help but cough a bit.

“That’s the good stuff, huh baby?”

The phrasing and how smug his voice purrs out is dangerous.

“It’s one of the new strands I’ve been wanting to try. S’called ‘girl scout cookie.’ Pretty sweet name huh? But kinda makes me wish I could eat some right about now, ya know.” Lucien rambles as you hand the pipe back to him.

You at least appreciate how talkative and alluring he is. Between passing the pipe back and forth to him, you’re pulled into discussions about aliens, music and then, YouTube videos.

“No,” you giggle. “You gotta see this one.”

“If it’s another sad cat video I’m gonna cry and kick you out.” He pouts and you’re overcome with the urge to lean forward and kiss the furrow in between his brows.

You can’t deny how handsome he is. Like, ridiculously so. You know he’s older but there’s a youthfulness to him that’s reassuring. Like his spirit will always stay free. But you know that also seems dangerous after hearing about the list of exes he had from your best friend’s friend.

So very cautiously you tread into this new territory, whatever it is.

You lean closer, hold your phone up and show him your favorite go to funny video.

You can’t even stop the giggles. You wanna blame the weed, but it’s so hard not to laugh even without it. You’re overcome with glee and lean against Lucien’s shoulder. His shoulders shake and you hear the most adorable twinkling giggle.

He’s laughing.

“See!” You urge. “Told you it’s funny!”

“It’s not that! It’s you! You’re making me laugh.” He wheezes out and your heart flutters.

“Then I’ll stop laughing so you can stop laughing and watch!” You reply back determined.

So pressing your lips together, you rewind the video. You and him stay silent. Or you try to. Your lips twitch so terrible wanting to break.

Then Lucien’s shoulders shake again. In seconds you’re both busting out laughing. Your poor phone is forgotten.

This time he howls with an infectious joy and you feel it in your gut, in your bones.

“You weren’t supposed to laugh!” You chide him through the giggles.

“You weren’t either!” He cackles.

You realize you’re practically draped against him, and Lucien even fully leans back into you.

The smoke, the drug, coats everything in a smokey soft haze and with the high creeping its way into your mind, a molteness seeps into you

Lucien smells so good too, clean, cozy, but also like a cologne you wish you could pinpoint.

“Thanks, it’s dolce and gabbana.” Lucien replies.

Your face ignites in flames realizing you must have spoken your thoughts out loud.

You’re about to scramble out from this mess when you peer up and find Lucien staring. His earth soil eyes, softly dusted with a rosy color, hazily watch you.

“Y’smell good too.” He mumbles back.

“Thanks, it’s my fabric softener.” You tell him.

Lucien busts out laughing, a bright firework of a thing and you once again get caught up in how wildly warm he is.

Shaking his head he shifts to grab the pipe.

But his hand slides to rest against your thigh, like it’s a small way of saying don’t move, don’t leave.

And you don’t.

“You wanna try something fun?” He offers.

“Sure.” You don’t know what you might have just agreed too.

Lucien maneuvers, slides his large warm hand to your face and your heart stops. He tilts your head towards him and his thumb softly rubs against you.

“You trust me?”

The soft lull of Frank Ocean continues playing in the background softening this world around you.

You don’t even know if this man has a middle name or not, but you know him enough, or mainly, find yourself wanting to melt more into him.

So you nod quietly.

“Good girl, just keep your mouth open.”

That line takes your breath away.

You have an idea of what’s coming, but even with that, you crumble.

Lucien inhales from the pipe, filling his mouth with smoke. In a blur he moves. It’s like you blink and he’s all around you.

His hand on your face, his body pressed up flush against you and then, his face slowly moving towards you.

With his lips open, he breathes the smoke into your waiting mouth and your eyes shut in bliss. His lips graze against yours, a tease.

You inhale on instinct. Yet your hands move on their own, possessed, to run against his warm broad chest.

Once the smoke is in your mouth and you hold it in, allowing this mixture of the smoke and him to consume you. You also don’t miss the way Lucien himself breathes out.

Then before you can close your mouth, he lets his tongue gently swipe at your top lip, a kitten-like lick.

But it’s divine.

When a soft whine escapes you, Lucien effortlessly dives in to kiss you, cradling your face and steals your breath away again.

Making out with your dealer could probably be one of the dumbest decisions ever. But he’s a unique high of his own, one making you so dizzy, but you think you don't want it to end just yet.

So you melt into this smoke and into him.

And it’s otherworldly bliss.

[loserboyfriendrjl]

"share with me?" lyall grinned, leaning against the doorframe.

sirius reached into his pocket, flipping the package open with his thumb, and gave it to lyall, who accepted it gratefully and fished out one.

"nasty habit, did you know that?" sirius asked, his voice muffled by the cigarette. "can kill you."

"don't we all die either way?" lyall asked, contemplating, but his voice was tinged with irony. "when it has to happen, there's nothing more you can do then let time consume you."

"better make the best of the little time we've got, then." sirius smiled around his cigarette, fiddling with the lighter to his lips, taking a drag and blowing through his nose. "you never know when you're kicking the bucket."

lyall nodded, accepting the lighter from the younger man. "especially now, with all the rubbish going on."

they sat in silence for a while, their cigarettes consuming themselves between their fingers.

"you know, i used to dislike you very dearly."

"i'm aware." sirius chuckled. "it was pretty obvious. you didn't really try to hide it. you've gotten better at it, though."

"that's because i don't hate you anymore. i think you're good to remus. he needs someone lighthearted to him. he's always been... a serious kind of person. constipated, if you will."

sirius snorted.

"it's not like i'm wrong!" lyall laughed, a guilty look on his face. "he's never been a lighthearted person, and he was always passionate about what he believed in. you, in the other hand, could give your life for what you believe in. remus is more balanced than you are."

"remus and i are different people," sirius said, running a hand through his hair. "it's very obvious. but i think he's good for me. he keeps me grounded, keeps me from flaring up and burning everything around me to the ground."

"well, aren't you a poet?" lyall asked, chucling. "and you bring a spark to his life. with your way of being. you're good to each other. you find a harmony, even though it's as chaotic as it can be."

sirius rolled his eyes, smiling nonetheless.

"hope and i used to be like that. once you get to know each other on a deeper, personal level, and you melt into each other, your differences won't be so obvious."

"look who's the poet now." sirius laughed, stubbing out his cigarette.

"come inside," lyall said, gesturing to the door. "it's cold outside."

lyall closed the cigarette behind them, the waxing gibbous giving their house an eerie glow.

[obsoleteozymandias]

Hello! If you're still doing them, could I please get a Baldur's Gate 3 matchup? I hope you don't have too many, I know that matchup requests tend to pile up very quickly so I apologize if you already have a lot. 

Irl I'm AroAce but I am attracted to fictional characters, so any gender works for me. I am also genderfluid (she/her is fine), autistic and disabled with joint pain, asthma and sensitivity to cold. I'm a professional librarian, witch (and pagan, I write a lot about both things), herbalist/ethnobotanist and athlete. I really enjoy working out and getting big muscles, and I'm thinking about competing in either the Highland Games (at my state's Scottish festival) or the Paralympics. I have to be really careful with my breathing when working out and stuff because of my asthma, but I'm very stubborn so I make it work somehow lol. I'm a really odd mix of athletic and scholarly - I'm a librarian and I love plants, I can name almost any plant I find on the side of the road, but I also really enjoy being strong and impressing people with my muscles. I like to describe myself as an irl Shounen anime protagonist - I'm very spunky and determined, like if I'm going to be a witch or an athlete I'm going to be the best witch or athlete. I'm a little perfectionistic in that way but I also know when I need to take breaks. 

I love plants, I have a myriad of houseplants that I care for very deeply, and I also really enjoy cooking and baking. A big fact about my appearance is that I’m very short, I'm under 5’ (152 cm). I also have really wavy long auburn hair, glasses, big muscles, and I love collecting shirts and clothes that I think are funny. I once bought a really ugly pair of pants because they were called “gamer pants” and I found that hilarious. I'm basically if a girl was also a lame boyfriend and I love it. I'm generally a little confident and I like who I am, but I get anxious and awkward sometimes. People are actually a little surprised by my real chaotic personality because I usually put up a pretty sweethearted demeanor so they get caught off guard by some of my antics. That being said, I genuinely adore taking care of people and I like being nice to others. I’m also both a walking trivia machine and a himbo, so I know tons of facts but can’t figure out how to turn the wifi on lol. I really just do my own thing and I don’t keep up with pop culture or trends, so I’m clueless about most movies and series and things. 

Sorry if this is too long, I got a little too into it lmao! I hope you’re doing well, and thank you!

The AroAce-but-not-for-fictional-hotties (/j I cannot emphasize that enough) army is growing. We will conquer and we will kill. 

== Baldur’s Gate 3 ==>

I match you up with…

Karlach

Pre-relationship:

You and Karlach get on from day one. Your kindness gives her a sense of belonging amidst the morally grey characters in the party, and yet your chaotic tendencies make her laugh like no one else. 

Thus, she’s pretty smitten with you from day 1. 

She also likes that you’re intelligent and strong - you’re everything rolled up in one dorky package that she deeply admires. 

When you wrap up her wounds after she gets injured, you can practially hear her infernal engine exploding with emotion. 

She’ll constantly ask you about the plants you find, amazed you can identify them. She’ll make you bouquets of the nicest flowers she sees, and it’s all so terribly romantic. 

Confession: 

Karlach tells you how she feels point blank, but in a nice, private setting with some flowers for you. She wants you to know how she feels, and she isn’t afraid of that at all. 

Relationship:

You two are a force to be reckoned with on the field. You both knock in goblins’ heads together and look into eachother’s eyes lovingly as you do. 

She likes your penchant for wearing silly clothes. She enjoys that you are so put together and confident, but also that you let yourself be silly and whimsical at the same time. 

She’s always there to help you when you feel awkward, and there to cheer you on while you tear up both the physical and intellectual battlefield.

Y’all are perfect for each other, enough said.

[vani-is-typing]

I saw the Barbie movie today and oddly liked it despite the fact it didn't quite live up to the hype all the marketing had created around it, at least for me.

I remember feeling defeated for a moment as the credits rolled and the song barbie world boomed around me. I was like, "what have I done?" Because I'd spent more than I'd thought watching the movie in its first week and at a more expensive theater in our locality. But then as I walked out of the hall to my car, I had an epiphany.

I strangely liked Barbie because it had everything one could ask for with Barbie. It was pretty and chaotic and nonsensical in a way that hooks you despite knowing what will happen already. This was all the same stuff we saw in all Barbie movies as children.

Perhaps the reason many people found the movie disappointing and couldn't accept the ideas it was presenting, was because this time there was no cartoonish packaging to wrap it all up and dismiss them in. Perhaps they couldn't comprehend that real people, the likes of Margot Robbie and Greta Gerwig and Ryan Gosling, would support and help spread the ideas which had previously been delivered through the means of animated media aimed at 12 year old girls.

So, no. The Barbie movie wasn't a legendary piece of art many had expected it to be. What it was, was a pink acid trip radically serving us feminism and the joy of being human with the side of a blasting soundtrack.

I can't wait to watch Barbie again.

[mreowsu]

Hello,

Do You only write for male characters or You do female as well ?

If You do, can I request Zeri x rich!fem reader ?

THX :)

OUT OF THE 'ORDINARY'‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎

⎯⎯⎯ Zeri never would have expected to catch the attention of the school's prized beauty.

c/w: zeri x rich fem reader. wlw. sg au. inspired by the art of jm-chrome. w/c: ?

Valoran High, the kind of place where lockers shine and glint, catching light like they’ve been polished by a team of highly-trained fairies, the hallways smelling like a mix of Axe body spray and hopeful dreams.

Entering the scene, our leading lady, a walking, talking fashion magazine, walking through the corridors like she’s on an invisible runway. Every step she takes makes heads turn and whispers to commence. Decked out in tailoring that could probably--most definitely--pay off a multitude of the student's loans.

She's the undisputed queen of high school elegance, her accessories jingling like a cash register on Black Friday, and her silk outfits swishing louder than any of the school's gossip.

And that's not all, this woman isn’t just stylish--she’s a human kaleidoscope, her eyes drawing people in like a mood ring.

People can’t help but stare, wondering if she’s the embodiment of every teen drama trope rolled into one mcuh too wealthy of a package.

And speaking of teen dramas, in the chaotic cafeteria, the air thick with the smell of mystery meat and overpriced coffee, this glamour goddess locks eyes with Zeri, the art kid who looks like she stumbled out of a Tim Burton movie. Zeri’s got neon hair, a wardrobe from the thrift store clearance bin, and enough paint stains to start her own color palette.

Ah.. Zeri, the queen of quirks. She's always in her own world, sketching away while the rest of the school munches on whatever passes for lunch these days. But our heroine, in a moment of either insane curiosity or sheer boredom, decides it’s time to cross the social divide. With a hair flip that could rival a shampoo commercial, she makes her move.

“Hey, you! The one with the rainbow hair and the ink-smudged fingers!”

She calls out, loud enough to make everyone in the cafeteria look up from their phones and social climbing lattes. Zeri glances up, her heart doing a triple backflip as she meets the gaze of the school’s resident evil enigma.

And just like that, it’s game on.

Suddenly, the cafeteria is the scene of a rom-com, complete with dramatic gasps and jaw-drops. The glamorous heiress and the artsy oddball are thrown together by the unrelenting forces of teenage destiny.

They’re soon spotted hanging out, you with Zeri and her paint-spattered sketchbook.

High school politics? Pfft.

These two are too busy sneaking into each other’s lives after curfew. Think boombox serenades and mixtapes straight out of a 90s movie. Zeri starts appearing in your insta selfies, and you find yourself dabbling in her finger paints. You're breaking all the rules, defying every clique, and making everyone’s jaws drop harder than a failed skateboard trick. (oh shit did I just create a rhyme)

Fast forward to the high school prom. You show up in a dress so stunning it might have been sewn by fairy godmothers, and Zeri rocks a custom tuxedo jacket created by yours truly.

You both waltz into the prom like in a scene from “Pretty in Pink,” but with more color and way more attitude.

The dance floor becomes your own private kingdom, and the rest of the student body watches in awe as the both of you twirl through the night.

But of course, as every great story needs a few bumps. Whether it’s a misunderstanding involving a rogue art project or a party crash gone wrong, they handle it all with the grace of a sitcom duo and the resilience of, well, teenagers in love.

As graduation looms, the two stand together among the rows of different faces, ready to take on whatever the future throws at them.

Their story, a blend of high school clichés and defiance, becomes legendary.

Valoran High will forever remember them as the power couple who turned the mundane into the extraordinary, and made love look like a Jackson Pollock painting--wild, messy, and absolutely unforgettable.

In our world obsessed with labels and status, our heiress and her colorful muse show everyone that sometimes the most beautiful stories come from the most unexpected pairings.

So, here’s to them, the duo who turned high school on its head and painted their story with the courage to be true to oneself in the face of adversity.

© 2024 mreowsu / strictly NO rewriting, reposting, or any form of alternation distributed of my works without myfirm permission.

Thank you so much for being the first request so far in my inbox! I hope I am able to satisfy you since the request was unspecified and I wasn't quite sure what you fancy. anyhow enjoy! Pardon the way I write.. I am rusty and if you have noticed I barely include convos. I am bad at writing them. I'll do my best to improve in time.

[ximplesolutions]

What Is A Distributor Management System?

Developing markets are huge and complex with thousands of distributors, a great many outlets, and billions of likely exchanges.

Producers need to deal with this tremendous organization of all shapes and sizes distributors while additionally shuffling the clashing requirements of various channel accomplices.

In any case, how could producers deal with all of this with restricted data and understanding available?

How might they assume command? How might they oversee individuals and advancements while as yet reducing expenses? And, generally significant of all, how might we make it simple?

Indeed, the response lies in versatile, brilliant yet basic innovation through a Distributor Management System.

A DMS (Distributor Management System) controls your downstream supply chain, however, it likewise assists you with controlling advancements, further developing productivity, streamlining stock and sales cycles, and distributor claims - you get precise, solid data on optional sales.

Set forth plainly, the motor drives every one of your sales and distribution exercises.

Significance - For What Reason Is A DMS Required?

To understand the significance of utilizing a Distributor Management System, we want to look at the basic difficulties of Divert Sales Management in India

·        Greater part distributors are little, chaotic elements that have lacking capital and tech infrastructure.

·        Multi-brand distributors find it hard to oversee data for the different brands they handle.

·        Huge distributors miss the mark on actionable data and information.

·        To enter rustic regions, it's important to add a few levels in the distribution chain, adding cost and inefficiency.

·        Absence of constant data on orders, stock, claims, and returns prompting stockouts or overstocking.

·        Restricted infiltration of the web, and substandard planned operations infrastructure.

·        This absence of information management has an impact of deferring over your whole sales pipeline.

How a Distributor Management System arranges these Difficulties:

·        Sales Analytics and Trends

·        Stock Out Scenarios

·        Order Management

·        Price Circulation and Control

·        Stock Movement

·        Better Procurement Planning

·        Scheme Management

Role Of Distribution Management System In Supply Chain Management To Outperform Your Rivals:

We should attempt to understand this by a model: A worldwide firm G produces X, Y, and Z products under its brand name.

It has N number of stockrooms in various regions of the planet where it stores the mass products of the separate classes.

Presently it has nearly many Distributors who convey various products to the Market, about thousands of wholesalers, then around a huge number of retailers, and exactly a billion products are at long last sold toward the finish of the interaction.

Presently following everything is the main section for any business to develop and we realize that it has a few dreary components connected to it like legitimate storage, safe delivery, checking on finances, inventory list, quality overview, customer satisfaction, product development, shipping, and packaging, and an extensive list go on from here.

And envision doing it physically and making it happen from the workers recruited… The outcomes will be that the development rate would take a profound plunge because the representatives will be caught up with doing the previously mentioned undertakings and their productivity would diminish, prompting lesser execution and more mayhem, where the advancement would vanish and unjustifiable tension would increment, rolling out no apparent improvements toward the end.

Try not to overreact, because this is where the Distributor Management System keeps a beware of!

It deals with pretty much every small component so you can deal with your business, causing it to become decidedly high!

A mechanical system gives you knowledge about every one of the cycles continuously till the time your buyers become blissful customers!

The Bottom Line: -

The continuous product overflow and retail level saturation play made the part of a distributor incrementally significant.

Mechanization, through a Distributor Management System (DMS), is basic to improving FMCG distribution.

A decent Distributor Management System streamlines all distribution work processes and exercises, further develops supply chain efficiency, eliminates stockouts and overstocking, and permits organizations to get continuous data from distributors.

With the right software platform fueling your sales and distribution exercises, you can accomplish elite execution in even the quickest and most divided commercial center.

And that is where the Ximple Solutions (Distributor Management System) comes in. Intended for organizations in arising and creating markets, Ximple Solutions is a distributor management system that gives total visibility of your optional Sales or stock lying at your distributor's end.

It promptly incorporates with your distributor's Tally, so you don't need to send a different gateway at your distributor's end and still can monitor all pertinent information.

The distributor can continue involving his current Tally software for his charging.

[just-some-random-blogger]

You Can Do Better

[Blurb XVII]

Simon Dominic (Jung Kiseok) x Idol!Reader Characters: Ssam-D, Jessi Ho Summary: You recently went public with your relationship with Ssam-D, making most questions you get on interviews directed towards him. Word Count: 1k+ Warnings: Fluff,  jealousy, pining, suggestive themes, specific depictions of reader, eg, being tall and fit, typos etc.

A/N: this is pretty long for a blurb considering its word count but yeah

I was invited to Jessie’s Showterview and it was immediately loud, lively, and chaotic on set. It started when I walked in with a crop top, showing a pretty decent portion of my midriff.

Jessi gasps and points to my top.

I turn down to my top, “what?”

She turns to the camera, “she’s so sexy. She really wants to show off her hard work.”

“I’ve been going to the gym a lot lately. I don’t work on my abs for nothing.”

Jessi turns to the camera, “this is why we’re friends.”

She begins to ask me a bunch of questions about my comeback and whatnot, we play a quick trivia game, then she gets to the segment she said she was most excited to talk me about.

“So, you have recently went public with your relationship with Simon Dominic.”

The crew makes a sound.

I turn to them, knitting my brows, “are you all fans? You seem enthusiastic.”

“They are,” Jessi fans herself with her cue cards, “you’re a hot topic and it will increase our ratings.”

I make a knowing look and break into a laugh.

“But you know when I heard the news, my immediate thought was you can do better.”

I break into an even louder laugh. The rest of the people on set laugh with me.

Jessi shakes her hands, “no don’t get me wrong, like, I’m friends with Ssam-d oppa, but knowing you and how amazing you are-”

I chuckle and cover my face.

“- like she can do everything, I think-”

“That’s not true.”

“-no, but you really can though. Like, you can sing, dance, act, model, and look at how tall she is!” Jessi shakes her head, “you’re taller than him, aren’t you?”

I raise a finger, “just a bit. When I wear heels, I’m definitely taller.”

“See!” Jessi says, “you’re every person’s dream. You’re the full package. You can do much better, babe.”

We all share a laugh. 

I sigh and shake my head, “that’s what mother said.” 

There in another eruption of even louder laughter.

“SEE!” Jessi calls.

By now, I’m clenching my stomach in laughter. Jessi turns back to me, waving her cue cards around, “now I have to ask. Why are you dating him then?”

“Let’s see,” I sigh and cross my arms, “why am I dating him again?”

Jessi leans into me as she breaks into laughter. I shake my hands, “No, no, no, I’m joking, clearly,” I playfully roll my eyes, “I remember when I met him for the first time, he was really confident and forward. Cause, I’m really forward too, and I don’t think I could ever date a guy who couldn’t handle my strong personality.”

“That’s right. She’s very American-style; very opinionated and honest, like me.”

“Right,” I nod, “what I really liked about him was how thoughtful and sweet he is. He’s patient and understanding, and I can, like, feel safe around him.”

I turn away from her as I continue my thoughts, “you know I think you an tell how much confidence he has, how much swagger, considering he’s a rapper. I fell like he channels that energy into our relationship. He makes me laugh so hard and makes me feel precious with how much he tells me.” I turn back to Jessi, “he’s great.”

Jessi makes a face, “I’m so fucking single.”

We explode into another fit of laughter.

“Okay, so, we’re gonna test that and see just how strong your relationship is.” Jessi explains. “We’re going to have you prank call him,”

“Oooh!” I break into excitement, “okay what do we do?”

Jessi reads her script, “okay, we’re gonna make you call him to see if you can get him to say a key word.”

I nod enthusiastically, “okay, game.”

Jessi reads her card and laughs, “Ya!” She throws her head back, ”you have to get him to say ‘I’m so angry,’”

My face drops, I turn to the producers on set, “ya, I don’t think he’d say that to me though. Do I have to say it exactly?”

The producer tells me no.

Jessi shakes her hands, “Does he never get angry at you? Or like, gets annoyed or irritated. How does he react when you do something like that..”

“You know what, there was this one time where I dropped ice cream on his shirt and he was just like ‘it’s alright, accidents happen.’” I place a hand on my chest, “I felt so much worse though compared to I think how I would if he got mad at me.”

“That can happen. If they’re so nice about something you did wrong, you ending wanting them to just cuss you out.”

The staff laugh at that while I get my phone, “you know what, I’ll try though.”

“Really?” Jessi asks in surprise.

I’m already dialing his number when I suddenly ask, “what do I even tell him?”

“You can just like-” Jessi starts but gets cut off when I look to my phone screen and hear, “Hello?”

“Hi, oppa.”

He hums, “what’s up, baby?”

Jessi breaks into a wide smile.

I break into a smile as well, then ask, “Oppa, are you busy right now? Are you at work?”

“Yeah, I’m at the studio right now.”

“Ah, I’ll be quick then-”

“No, no, it’s good. I always have time for you.”

Jessi suddenly stands and pretends to leave.

I feel my cheeks burn, “aw, thank you, baby.”

His deep voice goes up an octave higher, “of course.”

“Oppa, I just want to ask how you would feel if I hang out with a friend tonight. A guy friend.”

It takes him a long moment to reply. I feel a bit nervous. He speaks, “who is he?”

Jessi and I turn to each other, “No, no, like, hypothetically. I’m not actually hanging out with anyone.”

“Ahhhh,” he sighs in slight relief. His voice trails off “well... I mean you’re your own person, and it’s your friend...”

I wave my hands around, “so, how do you feel about it?”

“It’s okay. Do what makes you happy.”

I break into a soft smile. I then think of something else, “but what if I sleep over at his place?”

Jessi’s jaw slack. He give me a look and I give her a panicked one.

For a moment, I think he drops the line and I turn back to my phone to see if he was still in-call. “Kiseok oppa?”

“...”

“Oppa,” I stand from my seat, “I just want to know how you��d feel. I’m not actually going to do it.”

“I’d be fucking pissed,” he quickly blurts

Jessi calls, “PASS! PASS!” 

I break into a sigh of relief and the crew breaks out of their silence. Jessi gets my phone and says, “oppa, oppa! It’s Jessi.”

He doesn’t respond.

“Your girlfriend and I are doing Jessi Showterview and her mission was to get you to say ‘I’m so angry’ and you just passed with flying colors.”

Kiseok curses again. 

Jessi calls out but then breaks into laughter. She then gives a bow, “I’m sorry for making you angry at your girlfriend.”

He sighs, “actually, I should have seen this coming cause she told me she had an interview today.”

“See! It’s really your fault for getting angry.”

I laugh but he agrees, “I suppose part of it is though. I should be more understanding.”

I get my phone back and pout, “You’re already understanding. Sorry, baby.”

“It’s okay, I’ll have my revenge soon enough.”

I still.

He sweetly replies, though I can hear the smirk in his tone, “have fun at work, baby.”

[slashingdisneypasta]

Total Drama Villains x Reader || Drabble Set

Plot: You forget to take a towel to the shower and only realise after the shower, so you open the window to stick your head out and ask whoever's out there (Hoping someone is out there) to grab you one but to your chagrin- there's just a villain.

Includes: Chris, Heather, Mal and Scott.

Warnings: Mmmm, I dont think so. Swearing? A kiss?

~~~

All:

You slowly look around the room, very very aware of the fact that you're naked and cold in a room that does not have a great lock on it. "Ohhhhhh no." The words come out low and steady... but are just brimming with panic.

No. Towel.

No towel!!

Finally you gasp, covering the bottom half of your face with your hands and looking at the benches and the sinks in dread. You accidentally came in here without a towel!!

The sudden sound of footsteps out the back of the cabin rips a gasp from your throat and you lunge at the window, unlatching the lock and opening it to see who it is. Before you even stick your head out, you're calling for whoever it to stop. Please. Hold on! I need your help!

Chris McLean:

*You are an adult camper.

When you actually see who's standing out there, you groan. Chris McLean stands outside on the grass, hands in his pockets and an intrigued look in his eyes. He know's he's about to be amused, or he's going to amuse himself depending on what kind of trouble you're in- or what kind of help you apparently need.

"What's up?~"

"Nevermind."

"Oh no no no! Come on, you can confide in Uncle Chris, cant you?"

A whine tumbles out of you. Uncle Chris?? Grooooooooss. He see's and acknowledges your disgusted reaction to him calling himself that, but just giggles. He doesn't leave, to your utter annoyance.

What other choice do you have?? Rolling your eyes, you look down at your feet instead of meeting his beady eyes and wiggle your toes. And mutter suuuuper quietly, half hoping he doesn't hear you. "I forgot to bring a towel... and I really need one... " And, this part you say especially quietly. For seriously asking Chris fucking McLean for a hand would be akin to letting your dignity pack its bags and fly the coop. "... and would you please get one for me... "

"... Sorry, I didn't catch that. What didja say?"

Oh god. A little louder, you say shortly. "... I forgot a towel... "

Chris smirks at that, rolling back on the feels of his feet. "And? What would you like from me, Y/N?"

Finally too frustrated to keep playing this stupid game with the show's host, you snap your eyes up to his and cross your arms. "Fine! Damnit. Get me a towel, please."

Immediately, a cat like grin slowly spreads across Chris' face. Its the most evil thing you have ever seen.

"Now why would I do that when I could get Chef here to send in a buncha rabid bats with you and flush you out?" Christ teases - no, threatens. But then again, does he know the difference in the first place? - , that famous, alabaster white, terror instilling grin on his face as usual. "Now that's, good TV!"

You groan, head falling back on your neck, in frustration. "Chrr-ris!!"

"Ha ha! Well? What do you expect?" You cant argue with that, but you cans till groan again. "Okay, fine. I'll get you a towel! But what will you do for me, heh? Nothing comes for free."

"Oh, don't I know it. I've been on this show for 3 seasons now." For some reason.

"Heh heh."

"Fine, I'll... " Ugh, something for Chris... You blow air out of your cheeks slowly, in thought. What would Chris like? Well, he'd sure get kick out of you getting one of your friends hurt but that's sure as hell not happening. Finally, after a few moments, you get an idea. And scowl. "I'll be sure to drum up some drama for you. Good TV, right?"

"For sure! Promise?~"

Sighing, you lean tiredly on the window sill. "Oh, I cross my heart and hope to die." You promise him like he's a child, which he basically is. Chris McLean has got the maturity level and the intelligence package of a 7 year old on crack.

"Wicked! Heh heh, this'll be good. Okay, hang tight. I'll be back."

You smirk at his retreating back.

~

When he finally gets back and hands you a towel - a much nicer towel then what you and the other campers have been using. Which is nice? But also, you cant help but worry about what kind of strings might be attached to it, - through a crack in the door, you carefully wrap it around your body and tightly tuck it in.

"I'll want that towel back" He snaps, cranky. Why?? He could've just gone and gotten you your towel! "I imported that from Fiji!"

Of course he did.

Now you take a deeeeeeep breath, gathering all your courage, and killing the butterflies reeking havoc in your stomach. Then open the door again and grab hold of the front of Chris' signature teal shirt and wrench him close before he can walk too far off.

And you smash your lips together and slam your eyes tightly closed.

When you pull back from the kiss - a horrible, unpleasant, bad kiss, - you immediately wipe your mouth with your arm and let him go. But when you reveal your mouth again, you're for damn sure smirking at the stunned man. "Is that dramatic enough for you, Chris? A camper and the host? Scandalous- I bet we'll be front page news."

Then quickly you lock yourself inside the bathroom again, not really caring for his reaction- which only comes, finally, minutes later when you're half way dressed.

"DAMN IT Y/N!!"

Heather:

"Hm." Heather crosses her arms, an evil smirk on her lips- opportunity has knocked on her door. Or, the inside of the shower cabin. "You need something from me. Well! What will you do for me return? Hm?"

As expected. "I will vote for whoever you want me to at 2 different instances of your choice going forward. Except for myself, I wont vote myself out."

She thinks for a moment, but definitely looks pleased. "Three, different instances of my choice."

Fucks sake- "Fine! Just- please! I'm getting cold and one of the boys could come in here at any time and see me butt ass naked!!"

Uncrossing her arms and setting her hands on her hips instead, Heather laughs. "Oh- one of these boys? Shower? Haha. Have you smelled them??"

You blush darkly at her joking with you; At your worry but not your expense, before shaking your head of silly feelings and usher the pretty girl Heather, forward. "Go! Go! Get my towel already."

"Be right back." She rolls her eyes, heading off.

~

When she gets back, she reaches up to the window with the towel and you gratefully take it, beginning to dry off any drips from your body and get dressed as quickly as possible. "Thank you Heather!!"

"Mhm, yeah. Sure."

A few minutes later when you leave the door, Heather's waiting for you on the porch and you basically have a small stroke- jesus christ, why is she there!? STILL!?

"Oh, relax. I'm just cashing in some of your part of the bargain." She sneers, walking closer to you and pressing a sharp fingernail into your chest. "Dont forget, you owe me now."

"I remember Heather, we did this like 10 minutes ago."

"Good." She smiles, a tint of evil to it still. Pleasantly surprised that you're being so obedient. She leans back. "Okay, so Gwen's got to go. You got that? She's out. Vote for her and you're third done with your debt to me."

"Yes ma'am." You smirk, brushing by her and stalking off back to your cabin to put away your things.

Heather watches, hands on her hips and her own smirk on her lips. You might just be useful out of this bunch of losers. Not quite a diamond in the rough, but... better, at least. For sure. "Hm."

Mal:

"Oh- Mike!" You exclaim excitedly as soon as you see the lanky, dark haired boy. What luck!!

But then he slowly turns around; A dark, sinister grin on his face and hair over one eye. And your heart immediately drops.

This is not Mike. Neither is it Chester, Svetlana, Vito or Manitoba- any of which would have been just fine alternatives for this moment.

This has to be fucking Mal. You've met him before, and absolutely nevermind on the luck front.

"Nope." Yep- the grizzly, deep voice that responds to you can belong to no one other then Mike's chaotic evil alter. Shit. Shit, shit, shit. You continue to chant curses in your head as he turns around fully and comes forward, looking up with evil glinting in his eyes at you like a twisted Flynn Rider to your Rapunzel.

The kind that makes you rather stay inside your tower- its safer here then out there with him. You don't go out to meet the rabid pit bull!!

"Ummm, nevermind! Go about your business, I'm fine here. See ya!"

"Oh no. What'd you want from little Mikey?" He asks, crossing his arms and tilting his head to the side, cruelly inquisitive. You chew on your bottom lip. Damn it; You've peaked his interest. Fuck.

"Um... " The sound comes out quiet and insure as you look down at the grass before his feet instead of his face. You're so nervous. "Well, I... I forgot my towel before I took my shower, and uh... I was just gonna ask him if he could go get me one."

For a moment, he's silent. Your gaze flickers up to his face to see an utterly wolfish look on his face, eyes gleaming with mischief before averting your eyes again to the grass.

Then a loud puff of hard, unpleasant laughter escapes him. He doubles over, holding his stomach as he guffaws at your embarrassing situation. You roll your eyes and cross your arms.

"Oh shut up," You snap, bravely- making him cut off his laughter immediately and look at you. You dare to fucking talk to him like that? "Come on, go get me a towel, please!! I'll owe you one."

After a moment, he stands up straight again and crosses his arms. Yes, he could do something horrible to you right now to teach you not to talk back to him; but it looks like you're going to struggle without his help. All he has to do is watch! "Hmm, nope!"

"Come on!"

"Not gonna happen."

"Ugh." You groan, leaving the window and Mal and plopping down on a bench. Fucking bastard.

This is so awkward. Especially since you know he's still out there!! And he could send someone in at any time.

... Minutes later, and you're still dripping wet but now freezing fricken cold, a towel is flung in through the still open window and lands on the wet floor near your feet. Your eyebrows fly up your forehead, as you look from it in surprise and to the window.

Mal's voice calls through it. "There! Its no fun if you just sit and bear your punishment." Huff. You can just imagine the cute boy - the look works for Mike, but is just very odd on Mal, - crossing his arms and setting his jaw, or even pouting. His voice just sound sooo frustrated. "I'll get you another time, anyway. Everyone will go down, eventually."

"Oh... mhm, oh sure." I mean, I can at least listen to his evil babble since he got me a towel, you think as you start drying yourself down and getting dressed.

A moment after you've got your shirt on, the door is kicked open and Mal stands on the threshold, making you jump. "Jesus christ!- "

"Kiss thank you?"

"Get outta here!" Absolutely not!

Scott:

Peering out from the window, you nearly miss the boy leant up against the cabin beneath you, in fact you would have- if it weren't for his bright orange hair. You gasp, unintentionally getting his attention and smiling brightly when he looks up to find you. "Scott!"

A confused, yet somehow still evil expression paints his face. "Y/N?? What are you doing?"

"Well farm-boy, how do you feel about giving a lady a hand??"

Scott snorts, getting off the wall and stepping back to see you properly. "Lady? I don't see any lady here."

Oh- Bastard. You look back into the bathroom before disappearing from the window for a moment before returning, and promptly clobbering him with an empty shampoo bottle. "You see her now!?"

"Ugh... yeah." He grumbles more malleably now, much more open to suggestion as he rubs his forehead. "Sure, now I see her... ow."

Now you feel a little bad. He looks so pitiful when he's in pain... and yes he's a rat but... its still not okay to hurt someone. You aren't Chris. And also you're getting colder and colder as the water drips unimpeded down your skin and maybe its making you soft. "Ohh... okay, I'm sorry."

He glances up at you, surprised at your apology. "Ahh, no problem, I guess... " Did someone just apologise for whacking him on this show? He crosses his arms, raising a curious look to your disembodied head. "Uhh, what'd you need a hand, with?"

"I... kinda... forgot a towel... could you please go get one for me??"

For a moment you watch his eyes narrow and a wicked grin flicker at the corners of his mouth and get anxious that he's going to ask for something in return- before he rolls his eyes and just shrugs, turning and heading off to the cabin. "Yeah, sure, whatever. Be right back- try not to gather too much attention, haha."

As he walks off, you duck under the window again, sighing in so much relief. "Thanks, Scott!"

~

When he returns, you're waiting at the door and crack it open just enough to get the towel from him immediately- which you quickly wrap around yourself comfortably and sigh. "Thank you so much!"

"Hm. No problem." He huffs, wondering why the hell he did this for you anyway and crossing his arms again.

From inside, you carefully ask: "Are you gonna get weird if I hug you now?"

Immediately Scott's ears go bright red and he quickly loses every little bit of cool-guy vibe from a moment ago. "I-In your towel?? N-No!! I mean- yes!" He rubs the back of his neck, looking away from the door like its you, or he'll accidentally spontaneously develop x-ray vision and damnit, he's a gentleman. "I mean... " Or at least he tries to be.

Grinning, because Scott's unexpectedly cute now that you've flustered him, you quickly open the door, hug him quick, then close the door again and shout 'BYE'.

[raibebe]

Of needles and seduction

Genre: Fluff and smut Words: 15.2k Prompt: Johnny tattoo shop AU featuring best friends Yangyang and Jaemin Warnings: contains smut, Daddy-kink, size-kink, mentions of mirror-sex

A/N: This is very self-indulgent, I’m sorry. While I do have piercings myself, I know next to nothing about tattoos, so I’m sorry if anything is inaccurate. Also I don’t advise what some characters in this are doing for yourself. Just a quick special thanks to @burtonized​ who has listened to me ramble about this story and Johnny and helped me write this by giving me ideas and support. Thank you darling! This fic is a beast, I have never written anything this long,it’s insane. If smut isn’t for you, you can stop reading after the phone call and still have a pretty decent story. If you feel like, you’ve seen this post before, you might have. I deleted the original one because tumblr decided to delete it from the tags.

“Are you sure this is a good idea?” You asked for what you felt was the tenth time in the past five minutes. “It’s going to be fine. The shop is clean and sanitary,” your friend Yangyang groaned while running his hands through his messy, blonde hair. It was getting way too long, hanging low into his eyes. “I’m just saying that this doesn’t seem like a safe place,” you mumbled but followed your hyper friend through a more than dubious looking side street of Itaewon. “Jaemin got his piercings done in the same shop and those healed just fine, stop being a baby,” the blonde said while rolling his eyes. He quickly checked his phone for the address of the (probably illegal) piercing and tattoo shop and took a sharp turn into an even shadier looking street. “I still don’t get while you need me to come with you when you want to get your nipples pierced for god knows what of a stupid reason.” “It’s easy,” Yangyang grinned at you, “Ten said I wouldn’t dare to do it. And I’m going to prove him wrong and you’re going to document the progress.” “Do you ever listen to yourself talk? You’re literally paying someone to stab you into your nipples to shove a piece of metal through it just to prove a point.” “It’s just one nipple though.” “How does that make it any better, Yangyang?” You deadpanned. Your friend groaned again. “I knew I should have taken Guanheng with me. He would have been supportive.” “He would also be supportive of getting ‘I love Tacos’ tattooed on your ass.” “He would,” Yangyang agreed with an exaggerated dreamy look on his face. “What a madlad.”

You sighed but couldn’t help smiling at his antics. You had befriended the hyper exchange student when you had been assigned to be partners for a group project for your mandarin class. Yangyang had only taken the class for extra credit and easy good grades while you were struggling like crazy and had seriously questioned all your life choices that had let to you taking the class. (But mostly you regretted listening to Renjun who had convinced you it would be an easy class.) The group project turned out to be rather easy when you had a native speaker as your partner and you had become fond of the younger student, staying in touch with him and helping him find his way around the big campus. If you had known that he was a package deal with a bunch of other equally hyper and questionably crazy exchange students, you might have thought a little longer about keeping in touch after the project was over. But who were you kidding, the other boys and Yangyang were incredibly dear to you and if Kun had his regular morning coffee, the others weren’t even that chaotic.

“That’s it,” Yangyang suddenly exclaimed, pointing at a small beat up looking wooden door that looked like it was ready to fall out of the doorway any second. But a little green neon sign that hang next to it flashed the word “open” onto the street indicating that a shop must be hiding behind it. Your arguably best friend quickly grabbed your hand as if he had been sensing that you were about to complain again and dragged you into the shop. A little bell jingled quietly when Yangyang closed the door behind you two. You took a deep breath to calm your nerves (hell you weren’t even the one to get stabbed with a needle) and took a look around the small room. It was small and poorly lit and every free space on the walls was plastered with drawings and photos of both freshly done and healed tattoos. You had to admit that whoever had done those had done a good job, they looked really neat. You guessed that at least two artists must be working in the shop. A good portion of the art were very neat black and white works (some looking freakishly realistic) while others were very vibrant and artistic.

With a confident bounce in his step, Yangyang went up to the counter to a man with wild bubblegum pink hair wearing a black tank top that showed off the ink on his arms and torso, all kept in black except for a deep red rose on the side of his neck. His eyes were lined with dark eyeliner, making them seem like dark bottomless orbs, and they were fixed to the screen of a laptop that was covered in stickers that were a wild mixture of cute characters and various rock and hip-hop bands. “And what brings you here?” The man asked with a surprisingly deep voice, turning his head towards your friend. “A friend of mine told me I could get pierced here,” Yangyang spoke, his hands fumbling with the loose threads of his sweater. “And if that was the case, what would you want to get pierced?” “My nipple.” At that the other man raised one of his perfectly arched eyebrows. “People usually start off with getting an earring or something.” “Go hard or go home,” Yangyang grinned, making the other man snort. “If you have 70.000 Won in cash, I can look if one of the piercers is free.” When your friend got out his worn wallet and put a couple of bills onto the counter, the other man smiled for the first time. It didn’t quite fit his whole dark punk aesthetic but you couldn’t deny that he was really good looking.

“Don’t run away now kiddo, I’ll see if someone is free,” he grinned, “I’m Taeyong by the way.” When he disappeared behind a curtain made out of pearls into the back, Yangyang turned towards you with the biggest smile on his face. “I told you it was going to be fine.” You just hummed nonchalantly, still not entirely supportive of the whole idea. “One of the guys is ready in a bit,” Taeyong said when he came back to the main room. “Are you getting anything?” He asked, looking at you. “Oh no, she’s a scaredy-cat, just here for moral support and to document that I actually did it,” your friend answered for you. Your face immediately heated up under the intense gaze of the pink haired tattoo artist. “Too bad,” he just shrugged. “So technically you need to sign stuff for legal issues and whatnot. But since this place doesn’t exactly exist on records, we’re skipping that part. You’re not on drugs or any meds, right?” “I’m not,” Yangyang shook his head, making his hair flop back into his face. “Any issues with fainting or other medical conditions?”   “Nope.”   “Great. Had a good meal before coming here?” “I had breakfast,” Yangyang shrugged. “You had a slice of cold pizza from yesterday,” you groaned. “That I ate in the morning, therefore it’s breakfast,” he argued. “Well in that case,” Taeyong interrupted your bickering and threw a granola bar into Yangyang’s hands, “Eat that and let your girlfriend treat you to some proper food afterwards.” Before the blonde could deny anything, you had already opened your mouth to tell the other man that in fact you weren’t dating.

“Sure, sorry for assuming,” he shrugged and sat back behind the counter, taking out an iPad and began drawing something, probably a tattoo design. “Nervous yet?” You asked Yangyang who was uncharacteristically quiet while munching on the granola bar. “Shit, I’m really doing this,” he replied, exhaling shakily. “You don’t actually have to, Yangyang,” you tried to comfort him. “And let Ten just get away like that? No way. I am doing this. I’m not his little baby Yangyang anymore,” he said like the stubborn child he was. You could just sigh and roll your eyes at him. “He might have just been joking, you know?” “One does not simply challenge Liu Yangyang like that and not expect consequences.” “Kun is going to actually flip and pop a vein,” you tried to reason with your friend for a last time. Kun was doing a lot of coordination work for the exchange students with a Chinese background and had taken on almost a fatherly role for the younger students that hadn’t been in Korea for long. And even though Ten wasn’t even that much younger than Kun, he almost lost his otherwise calm composure when the Thai boy had announced that he successfully had pierced his ear by himself yet again after he had convinced a poor med student to smuggle some equipment for him. And from there the situation had somehow escalated into Ten daring Yangyang to get a nipple piercing. “Well he can’t do anything about it once it’s done. We’ll just make sure he’s with someone who can call an ambulance if he ends up having an aneurism.”

“Someone still wants their nipple pierced?” A new voice interrupted your conversation and a tall man with dark inky hair came into the room, making the pearls of the curtain clink against each other. One side of his head was shaved while the longer hair on the other side framed his handsome face beautifully. He was wearing a loose black T-shirt paired with ripped jeans with almost as many holes as there was fabric that hugged his long legs perfectly, showing that he had also ink on his legs. From his lobe dangled a little silver chain and of course his arms were covered in intricate designs, one arm strictly black ink while the other sported some colorful pieces as well. In the center of his plush lower lip sat a black ring and just beneath his left eye two little silver balls were reflecting the low light. You couldn’t deny that the man looked absolutely stunning despite his unusual appearance.

“Yes, me,” Yangyang eagerly answered the man’s question and walked towards him, tugging you with him. “Too bad,” the piercer grinned cheekily and winked in your direction, making your heart flutter in your chest and heat rise to your face, before he extended a big hand to shake Yangyang’s much smaller one. “I’m Johnny,” he introduced himself before leading you both into a smaller room in the back with a simple black padded bench in the middle of the room and a desk tucked into a corner. The walls were plastered with art and photos like the main room, showing that Johnny apparently was able to pull off a bunch of different tattoo styles. He seemed to have a thing for florals and roses though. The only free space was taken up by a full body mirror at the opposite wall. Johnny sat down on the little stool that was standing by the desk and motioned for Yangyang to sit on the bench while you sat down in the only other chair in the room, made of worn looking black leather.

“Let me see your chest before we start this whole thing,” Johnny spoke to your friend after he had grabbed a pair of silver framed glasses that sat low on his elegant nose and slipped on a fresh pair of black gloves. With only slightly trembling hands, Yangyang pulled his sweater over his head, keeping his hands buried in the fabric. “Looks good to me. Left or right one?” “Ehrm, I haven’t really thought about it,” he confessed. Johnny chuckled. “Spontaneous decision to get your nipple pierced?” “He does it to prove a point to a friend,” you supplied before Yangyang had the chance to answer. “Seems like a valid reason,” the tattoo artist grinned, “You play guitar or anything where the strap could irritate the new piercing?” “Just the violin,” Yangyang supplied, demonstrating how he would hold his instrument. “Then I’d suggest we go for the left one,” Johnny concluded, grabbing a bunch of stuff he needed. “Is it going to hurt badly?” “No idea, mine aren’t pierced.” “The first one is fine,” another voice chimed into the conversation and a pink mess of hair appeared in the doorway. “My client is there and Jaehyun isn’t back from his break yet, have an open ear for the door.” Johnny just hummed but it seemed enough to satisfy Taeyong who disappeared just as quickly as he had appeared.

“You ready?” Johnny asked one last time. Yangyang took a deep but shaky breath and nodded. “You better film this so Ten knows it’s real,” he said, holding out his phone towards you. Rolling your eyes, you got up from your actually really comfortable chair and took the phone from your best friend’s hands while Johnny disinfected Yangyang’s nipple and drew two little circles where the bar would go through it before grabbing a small mirror to show him. “Let’s do this,” your best friend nodded and you pressed record. “It’ll be quick,” Johnny promised, disinfecting one last time before he grabbed a pair of tongs to hold the nipple in place and freed a needle from a foil package. “I’ll count to three and then I’ll start, alright?” “A-Alright.” “Last time to chicken out.” “No, I’m doing this,” Yangyang gritted out, closing his eyes. After that everything happened really fast: Johnny counted to three and steadily pushed the needle through Yangyang’s nipple, who bit his lip hard. He then let the needle dangle from the nipple while freeing a little barbell from another foil package to insert it through the canal he just had made. “And that’s it,” he announced when he secured the little balls on either side of the barbell. You ended the recording when Yangyang left out the breath he had been holding in. “Now no sports, especially no swimming or sexual activities for a while. Clean it well and don’t worry if it gets sore, that’s normal. It can take a while to heal, so be patient and don’t let it get infected. You can get a smaller barbell or a ring once it’s healed. Just come back to get it changed to be safe.” “Fuck I really did that,” Yangyang cursed and looked down to his chest, “I think I need a minute before I can get up.”

“Take your time, I don’t have any clients for another half an hour,” Johnny reassured him, putting the used materials into the trash. “Just please don’t vomit all over the floor or hit your head while fainting.” “That has happened before?” You asked, eyes wide. “Not on me but it’s not unheard of. You sure you don’t want anything?” he asked, turning towards you. His silver framed glasses had slid down his nose a little and you couldn’t deny that the man looked really hot, looking at you from beneath his lashes. “She’s too scared,” Yangyang teased. He couldn’t feel too bad if he still could do that then. “Too bad, I think you would really suit a little conch or something,” the piercer motioned around his own ear to indicate what piercing he meant. “A conch?” You asked, turning towards the mirror to try to imagine it. “Wait let me show you.” Johnny quickly got up to search through the drawers of his desk before he pulled out a little box with a bunch of jewelry, grabbing a small hoop. He stood behind you in front of the mirror. “Hold still for me,” he breathed and bend down to push your hair behind your ear before he carefully put the fake piercing in place. For a moment you could swear that time had stopped. You felt his breath fanning over your skin gently and could smell the intoxicating smell of his cologne. You were so close to each other, you were sure that if you turned your head, your noses would brush against each other. But before you could do anything stupid, Johnny pulled back and gently turned your head so you could see the little silver ring. “I think I could put an even smaller one if you wanted,” he said, watching you through the mirror with an intense gaze from his dark eyes. “I’ve never thought about getting a piercing,” you admitted shyly. While you did get your lobes pierced when you were a child, you never thought of it much. “It looks good. Not so much like daddy’s good girl anymore,” the piercer grinned. You almost choked on air when the words left his plush lips, feeling the heat rush to your cheeks.

“How much?” “For you I’ll do it for free, darling,” he grinned, running a hand through his thick dark hair, making his muscles shift beneath his inked skin. While your brain was still short-circuiting from the nickname, Yangyang seemed to be back to 100%, destroying whatever the atmosphere between you and the tattoo artist just was. “Are you really going to say no to a free piercing, dude?” You could just groan and roll your eyes at your best friend. “Stop calling me dude, Yangyang.” “Only if you get that piercing.” “That’s blackmailing.” “Just do it, it won’t even hurt right?” “It’s just a bit of pressure,” Johnny assured you, his lips curled into a smile. “I can always take it out if I don’t end up liking it,” you thought out aloud. “The beauty of temporary body modifications,” Johnny sighed before he stepped in front of you to take the fake piercing off again. With his face so close to yours again, your eyes traveled over the little silver balls beneath his left eye, over his elegant nose down to the black ring in his lower lip and you briefly wondered what it would feel like to kiss him. “So what will it be?” You looked over to your best friend who had put his hoodie back on and nodded his head enthusiastically, making his fluffy hair flop into his eyes. He really needed a haircut.

“Alright, let’s do this,” you decided. “That’s what I like to hear,” Johnny grinned and moved to get his stuff ready. “Need me to hold your hand?” Yangyang grinned when you took his place on the bench. “I wouldn’t want to contaminate you with girl germs,” you teased, sticking your tongue out at him. “I’m sure he wouldn’t mind some girl germs if they’re coming from such a pretty girl,” Johnny cut in when he rolled back over on his stool, his glasses pushed back up his nose again. You couldn’t even fight the heat that crept onto your face at his words, he sure could feel it radiating off your cheeks from where his gloved hands were touching your skin. “I’ll do it where I placed the fake one, just with a smaller ring, alright?” He spoke softly when he disinfected your ear. You could just nod, anxiety taking over, making your heart race and skin prickle. When you heard the plastic bag that held the sterile needle rip, you pressed your eyes shut and balled your hands to fists. “Take a deep breath for me, doll,” Johnny mumbled, gently caressing your skin where he had grabbed your face to stabilize you. “In and out.” You shakily did as he asked you, his low voice comforting and calming your anxiety a lot. “Now you breathe in and let me count to three, then you gently release that breath. Can you do that for me, darling?” “Yeah,” you breathed, eyes still closed so you missed the soft smile on Johnny’s face. “Alright, deep breath in. One, two, three,” the pain of the needle piercing through your skin made you clench your fists harder, “And breathe out.” You tried your best to release the breath evenly until the pressure of the needle was just a low thudding. “You’re doing great, darling,” the handsome piercer reassured you, “I’ll just push the ring through and we’re all done here. Take another breath for me.” This time the feeling wasn’t as painful, just a really uncomfortable feeling of pressure. “All done, pretty,” Johnny concluded, clicking the ring closed. “Open your eyes.”

When you did open your eyes again, he held the little hand mirror from before in his still gloved hands so you could see the little ring that sat against your ear now. The skin was a bright red and you could feel your pulse throb around the metal but it actually fit the shape of your ear really nicely. “Thank you,” you smiled at Johnny. “It’s been a pleasure,” he winked before gathering the used needle and tissues to throw them away. “Take good care of it and try to not sleep on that side for a couple of nights and it will be healed in no time.” “Let’s go home, big baby,” Yangyang chirped in, already on his feet to leave the room. “I’m starving.” “There’s a good ramen shop a little up the street, not too expensive either,” Johnny recommended.

“Thanks for the piercings, man,” your best friend thanked the artist when he took you back to the main room. “No big deal,” Johnny shrugged and sat down where Taeyong had sat before, putting his long legs up on the counter. “Well, have a nice day, maybe we’ll come back for more some time,” Yangyang grinned, opening the door to leave the shop. “Oh I’m sure you will,” the artist replied, locking eyes with you before winking. “Take good care of that piercing, doll. You know where you have to come to if you want more.” You nodded shyly before bowing to the man. “Thank you, Johnny.” “I’ll see you again,” it wasn’t a question. Somehow you and him both knew that this wouldn’t be the last time you would step into the shady tattoo shop.

The next time that you found yourself in the shady streets of Itaewon came faster than you had thought. This time you were accompanying Jaemin to his tattoo appointment after Jeno had ditched him because he had to take over a shift at the cat café he worked at. (That poor boy had to take antihistamines before every shift because of his allergies but couldn’t resist the charm of the kittens.)   “You’re a lifesaver seriously,” the hyper boy repeated while jumping up and down excitedly, “Sitting still for hours on end is really so boring if you have no one to talk to.” “Can’t you talk to your artist?” You asked confused. “He threatened to stab me with the tattoo gun the last time when I was trying to talk to him while he worked,” Jaemin pouted. You could only imagine how irritating Jaemin and his moods could be to someone who wasn’t used to him. Ever since he had decided that he wanted to commit to what he had dubbed a soft punk look, he had been going to the shop somewhat regularly to start a collection of tattoos and piercings. It had started a year ago when he first had dyed his hair to a light blue color. Shortly after that he had first gotten his ears and then his nose pierced. The two lip rings in his lower lip were his newest addition as far as piercings went. The tattoos came a little later. After much consideration he had made the decision to start a floral piece on his arm, the center would be a hummingbird, all with black ink for now.

After a little bit of Instagram stalking you had easily identified the intricate flowers that adored Jaemin’s upper arm as Johnny’s work and the thought of seeing the handsome tattoo artist again had made your heart beat faster in your chest. Not that Jaemin needed to know that you weren’t coming with him for his sake but rather because of your desire to see the dark haired flirty man again.   You had been thinking about his dark eyes behind his silver framed glasses and how he scrunched his eyebrows when he was concentrating a lot for the last weeks. (Not that you had replayed the video of him piercing Yangyang an unhealthy amount of times or anything…) Every time you took care of your new piercing it reminded you of how his fingers felt on your skin and how his deep voice had gently guided you through everything. Not to forget how easily the pet names had rolled from his lips. And oh god his lips… His Instagram account featured a good amount of pictures of himself both casual and while working and the way his plush lips would curl into a confident smirk did things to your heart. His latest update had been the actual death of yours though. It had shown the new tattoo he had gotten recently: It was an intricate eagle that spread over his muscled chest, the feathers of the wings blending seamlessly into the other art covering his strong shoulders and biceps. Did you already mention that he was freaking shirtless in the picture? And that he was hiding a seriously ripped body beneath the wide T-Shirt he wore the last time you were at the shop? So to say that your thoughts had started to spiral after seeing that post was a little understated.

You still felt a little uneasy when you followed Jaemin through the backstreets of Itaewon but when the shabby door with the neon green ‘open’ sign came in sight, you felt the feeling disappear, only for it to be replaced with a mixture of excitement and anxiety. Jaemin grinned widely when he pushed the door open and his good mood was always infectious, a smile creeping on your lips. This time a new man sat at the counter, lazily rocking back and forth on the chair with his phone in his hand. His hair was dark and hung into his eyes and he wore a dark, long sleeved hoodie, so you couldn’t see if he had as many tattoos as his colleagues but if the tattoos on his hands and neck were any indication, he must be pretty covered as well. You recognized the rose on the back of his hand from one of Johnny’s Instagram posts. When the man looked up, you saw that he didn’t only have tattoos but piercings as well: In his lower lip sat two rings right next to each other, a ring dangled from his nose and two little silver balls sat in the hollows of his dimples that showed when he smiled at Jaemin. “Back for more?” He asked with a deep, rumbling voice and got up to greet Jaemin properly, bumping their shoulders together. “Got an appointment with Johnny for my sleeve,” the blue haired boy replied. “I see the snake bites healed well.” “Done by the best piercer of the shop.” “You know it,” the man laughed, throwing an arm around Jaemin. “Brought your girlfriend?” “I’m just a friend,” you quickly corrected the piercer. (Why couldn’t you just platonically join a friend for his tattoo session?) “Alright, just a friend, I’m Jaehyun. Johnny should be ready by now. You know the way?” Jaemin nodded and pulled you with him to Johnny’s room.

When Jaemin pulled the curtain to the room open, you weren’t prepared for what you were seeing: Johnny was standing in front of the full length mirror with his black button up shirt unbuttoned, applying cream to his still tender looking eagle tattoo on his chest, making his beautiful sunkissed skin glisten. “You’re early, Jaem,” he spoke. “Jaehyun said you were already ready,” the blue haired boy shrugged and plopped down onto the black bench. “Oh you brought company,” Johnny turned around when he spotted you and grinned, “I knew you’d come back, doll. How’s your piercing healing?” You had to summon all your strength to rip your eyes from Johnny’s strong and glistening chest to meet his dark eyes. “It’s fine as far as I know, doesn’t hurt anymore,” you stumbled across your words. Couldn’t he just button his shirt back up? “Let me see.” Before you could protest he had made two big steps and was right in front of you, the intoxicating smell of his perfume filling your senses. He gently tucked your hair back to have a look at the piercing and you swore you could feel electricity buzz beneath your skin where he had touched you. “You took great care of it, darling. Not regretting it yet?” “No, I like it.” I like you. The words had laid on your tongue but you managed to swallow them back down.

“Stop flirting with her, I’m the one paying for your attention,” Jaemin whined from where he was sitting. You of course immediately felt all your blood rush to your head but Johnny just chuckled. “I haven’t seen any cash yet, boy.” The tattoo artist gave you a last wink before turning towards his actual client, buttoning his shirt back up but leaving the last two buttons unbuttoned, letting the head of the eagle just barely poke out. Taking a deep breath you sat down in the worn leather chair while Jaemin handed Johnny a bunch of bills that the taller quickly counted. “Alright, I’m all yours for the next five hours or so,” he grinned, “You saw the drafts I sent you?” Jaemin nodded while he took off his jacket and rolled up the sleeve of his T-Shirt to expose the ink on his arm. It was already beautiful even though it wasn’t even halfway done. The hummingbird was still missing its shading and he hung in the air for now, the flowers and leaves stopping above its head. “Yeah, I’m still not sure about the color though. Can’t we just do more flowers instead?” “Sure but the inner arm and near the elbow is going to hurt like a bitch. So it’s either that or you let me color that hummingbird.” Jaemin groaned dramatically, turning his arm to look into the mirror. “He does look weird just half-finished like that.” “So color it is?” Johnny asked while rolling up the sleeves of his shirt a bit, exposing his own tattoos: A snake like dragon curled around his entire right arm, kept in all black ink. “I really liked that green-blue watercolor thing you sent,” Jaemin supplied when he turned to lie down. “Right, then I’ll do some flowers directly surrounding the bird and color that thing.” He snapped his black gloves on and turned to prepare his machine and the colors.

“Come closer with that stupid chair,” Jaemin whined, making grabby hands at you. After Johnny nodded, you pushed the chair closer with great effort. “Are you going to whine for the whole time?” You groaned but smiled fondly at your friend. “Most likely,” Johnny answered instead of Jaemin and rolled over on his little stool, his silver framed glasses back on his nose and a pen between his lips. “I’ll freehand a bunch of flowers first to make sure they fit around that little guy nicely.” “And I thought you liked putting others in pain,” Jaemin joked when Johnny adjusted a little lamp and began to draw flower after flower. It was really fascinating how quick his hand drew delicate petals and leaves, filling up the space around the hummingbird. “Oh if I put others in pain, they usually like it,” he grinned, his voice dropping an octave. You almost choked on plain air and had to try to mask it as coughing but if the way Johnny’s eyes twinkled was any indication, he had seen right through it and dared to be smug about it. “Wow my third appointment and we’re already talking about kinks?” “Sorry Jaem, not interested,” the artist laughed, “I’m more into cute girls.” He leaned back to examine his drawing, throwing you another quick wink. You barely held in a squeak. He really wasn’t even trying to be subtle about his flirting anymore. “Ready for the big gun?” “Oh dick jokes now, nice,” Jaemin chuckled while you were sure your head was about to explode from how much blood was collecting in there. You covered your hot cheeks with your hands in a hopeless attempt to cool them. “Oh look Johnny, she’s getting shy already.” “I haven’t even started yet, baby.” That was it. This man was going to be the death of you. You really didn’t need to know what it sounded like when he spoke those words that were dripping with honey. “Why did I agree to come with you?” You groaned, hiding your face in your hands. “Because you missed me”, Johnny said at the same time as Jaemin said: “Because you’re a good friend.”

After a beat of silence in which Johnny arranged his actual tattoo gun and Jaemin stared at you while his smile grew bigger and bigger, he asked: “Now which one is it?” “I’m not answering that,” you mumbled from beneath your fingers. “No answer is an answer as well,” Jaemin singsang but luckily the low buzzing of the tattoo machine saved you from any further embarrassment… For now…   “Now hold still or I’ll actually stab you,” Johnny warned before he dipped the needle into black ink and began to trace the lines he had just drawn on with a fine needle. “Yessir,” Jaemin joked, wiggling his eyebrows.

Johnny was unusually quiet while he worked, completely tuning out the chatter of you and Jaemin about shitty professors and assignments. You were absolutely fascinated by the confidence he radiated while dragging the needle over his client’s skin. He went back and forth between two different tattoo guns and rubbed Jaemin’s skin every now and then to get rid of excess ink. Soon Jaemin’s whole upper arm was decorated with delicate flowers and leaves and Johnny leaned back to both take a deep breath while stretching his back and to look at his work. “Let’s take a break before I do the color,” he proposed, wiping down the skin. “It looks great,” you complimented his work, taking a picture for Jaemin so he could see it himself. “Damn that pain really pays off,” your friend grinned, zooming in and out of the picture before posting it to his Instagram. “Does it hurt badly?” “You get used to it,” he shrugged, not taking his eyes from his feed, “It’s more like someone continuously scratching you.” “I can show you if you want,” Johnny chimed in from where he was cleaning his tattoo gun from the black ink. “I don’t think I’m spontaneous enough for a sudden tattoo.” “Not even if I offer it for free again?” He laughed. “I’m not mentally prepared for that,” you tried to reason. “I can still show you how it feels though. Without ink.” You shyly nodded and held out your arm for him that he quickly wiped down with disinfectant when he was done putting a fresh needle into the gun. “Just don’t flinch, darling,” he softly spoke before the buzzing of his tattoo gun filled the silence. You expected it to hurt a lot more when the needle touched your skin but it really wasn’t that bad. It was an odd kind of pain you couldn’t really describe. “It’s not that bad,” you told him, looking into his beautiful brown eyes behind his glasses. “It hurts more when it’s directly on the bone or at a more tender area,” Johnny explained and turned the gun off again, bending down to look at the slightly reddened skin of your arm before chucking the used needle into the nearby trashcan. “Let’s patch that up real quick, just treat it like any other scratch.” You nodded and let the handsome man put a band-aid over it. But before you could pull your arm back again, he leaned down to press a kiss on the cloth “For a good and quick healing,” he breathed and grinned smugly when you quickly turned your head away to hide your heated face.

“When you’re done flirting, will you finally put some color into me?” Jaemin interrupted, grinning widely. “That’s what she said,” you mumbled under your breath, making Johnny chuckle. “All you need to do is ask, darling.” Before you could even wrap your mind around what the tattoo artist had just implied, he had already rolled back over to your blue haired friend to take a look at the hummingbird. “Alright let’s do this,” he grinned before wiping down the skin once more. The buzzing of a new machine filled the room and Jaemin scrunched his eyes shut when the needle dipped in turquoise ink met his skin. “This is nasty,” he complained. “Don’t be a baby,” Johnny murmured, dragging the needle over your friend’s skin that accepted the ink quickly. “You want to hold my hand?” You giggled. What you didn’t expect was for Jaemin to actually reach out to you with his unoccupied arm, making a grabby hand. “Jeno always holds my hand,” he whined. “You’re such a big baby, Nana,” you sighed but still laced your fingers together, yelping loudly when Jaemin squeezed down hard. “You said it didn’t even hurt, you big liar,” you squeezed out between gritted teeth. “You’re not the one getting stabbed,” Jaemin argued, “That shit hurts different than the black.” “It’s a different needle,” Johnny explained, “People usually say it hurts less than outlines though.” “It’s not more or less, it’s just different.” “Well it’s going to hurt more if you keep seizing up like that, relax.” “You’re one to fucking talk,” Jaemin sounded upset. “Don’t curse at me for giving you a pretty tattoo,” Johnny just said, dipping his needle into the little pot that held the color again. “Talk him through it,” the artist said to you, looking up from behind his glasses that had slipped down his nose again.

“Hey, remember that time when Donghyuck was so drunk he wanted to jump from the roof into the pool at that frat house?” You quickly said, the silly story coming to mind first. The memory made Jaemin giggle. “Jeno and Mark had so much trouble holding him back once he managed to climb out of the window,” the blue haired boy chuckled. “They were lucky they didn’t fall off.” “That would have made for an even better story though,” Jaemin laughed. “They could have hurt themselves,” you said, scandalized, “You’re hanging out with Renjun too much.” Jaemin didn’t answer, instead he just hummed and wiggled his dark eyebrows.

“Did you ever go to college?” You asked Johnny out of curiosity even though Jaemin had said that the artist preferred to keep quiet and concentrate on his work. “Do I look like I went?” He just laughed, cocking one of his stupidly perfect eyebrows at you when he looked up. “Well, I didn’t want to assume,” you shied away under his gaze. “I dropped out of high school to learn tattooing,” Johnny shared while painting Jaemin’s skin as blue as his hair, “I wasn’t good in school anyways. So art school or something wasn’t an option either. Not that I would have had any money for that.” “What made you want to pick up tattooing then?” You asked curiously. “Art usually is very temporarily and if you make a mistake, you can just erase it or paint over it with another color. Not so much with tattoos. I like that. It’s immortal as long as you don’t start shooting lasers at it.” “I’ve never thought about it like that,” you confessed. Tattooing had never seemed like art to you but that was exactly what it was. Just not on a canvas but under your skin. “Thinking about getting one now?” Jaemin teased, squeezing your hand that he still held. “I haven’t even told my parents about the piercing,” you scoffed, “They would disown me.” “Well too bad, I know a pretty good tattoo artist,” he joked and poked his tongue out. “Do you now?” Johnny asked, a grin on his lips, wiping down Jaemin’s arm before going in with a lighter color. “Yeah, he works in this shady ass shop in Itaewon and I am pretty sure you can buy drugs there as well.” “Those are not for sale,” the artist chuckled when he saw your scandalized expression. “It’s just anesthetics for certain piercing procedures, calm down doll.” “So sadly, it turns out you can’t buy drugs at their shop but it still looks shady and I’m pretty sure they’re paying part of the mafia so the police won’t come to investigate.” “I know nothing of transactions of this sort,” Johnny commented before you could get an actual heart attack. Illegally tattooing and piercing was one thing but mingling with the mafia was a whole other thing. “Anyways, he does pretty cool tattoos and pierces as well,” Jaemin continued, a grin on his lips, “Also talking male to male here, he’s pretty ripped.” At that Johnny started grinning as well. “Wanna know his name?” Jaemin asked you when Johnny turned to clean his needle and you just rolled your eyes but nodded, wondering what he was getting out of all of this. “It’s Jaehyun.” “Excuse me?” Johnny exclaimed with wide eyes when both you and your blue haired friend started laughed at his stupid joke. “This kid,” he mumbled and shook his head before putting the needle back to Jaemin’s skin who seemed to have forgotten to whine about the pain.

The rest of the appointment was spend with you and Jaemin chatting about this and that and a short video call from a red eyed Jeno who had finished his shift at the cat café and wanted to apologize and promised to buy you two dinner after you were done. “I think that’s all I can do for today,” Johnny said after he had stared at the little hummingbird for a while, “Your skin took the color well but if I do any more, I’ll stress the skin too much. I can go in another time if I need to fix anything.” Jaemin nodded, sitting up so he could inspect the colorful hummingbird in the mirror. “Wow that looks sick,” he commented, his eyes going wide, “Totally worth the pain.” “That’s what I wanna hear,” the artist grinned, grabbing some paper towels to rub the tattoo down once more. “Let me snap a picture to post.”

After both men had taken about 20 photos each, Johnny quickly wrapped Jaemin’s arm in plastic wrap, reminding him how to take care of it. “Text me for the next session, I think we could fit some pretty roses at the bottom. Maybe add a dash of color here and there or other animals,” the artist smiled, slipping the glasses off his nose, gently placing them on the table. “I’ll think about it but first I gotta slave away behind the bar to make more money,” Jaemin sighed, shrugging his jacket back on. “And you darling?” Johnny asked, putting on his confident smile again. “When will I see you again?” You just stared at him, at a loss for an answer. Did he really want to see you again? But before you could even open your mouth, Jaemin had already pulled your phone from your grasp, unlocked it and shoved it towards Johnny. “Put your number in already,” he sighed and rolled his eyes dramatically. Laughing, Johnny did as your friend had said. “Very smooth, Jaem.” “I- I guess I’ll text you,” you stuttered when Johnny gave your phone back, your fingers tingling where his touched yours. “I’ll be waiting, darling,” he winked, raking a hand through his inky strands. “Alright, time to leave, before you start drooling,” Jaemin destroyed the intense atmosphere and grabbed your arm to pull you back to the main room and out of the parlor, leaving a laughing Johnny behind in his room.

“I wasn’t even drooling, what the fuck Jaemin,” you argued when you were outside, your phone clutched to your chest. “Stop complaining, I got you his number, you should be thankful,” he just grinned, absolutely shameless, tugging you along through the little street. “I will not thank you for embarrassing me in front of him,” you pouted, unlocking your phone to confirm that Johnny had indeed put his number into the contacts with a little black heart behind his name.

“Is it too early to text him?” You asked when you and Jaemin sat in the subway on the way to his and Jeno’s dorm to take him up on his offer for food. Your friend just laughed at you, making an elderly man scowl at the two of you, who shook his head in disapproval. Well, Jaemin’s visuals didn’t help him when he acted like this in public. But as long as he didn’t care, you wouldn’t care either. “Text him after we’ve eaten,” he advised you. “Then you don’t seem as desperate as you are,” he added, which earned him a punch to his not tattooed arm.

All through dinner, Jaemin retold every embarrassing moment that happened at the tattoo parlor, making Jeno laugh so hard that he almost choked on his rice. You really needed to find new friends. These ones were just harassing you at this point. (Aside from the fact that Jaemin had indeed managed to get you Johnny’s number, you’d thank him later when he couldn’t make fun at you.)

Later that night, you laid in bed in your own dorm room, staring at the screen of your phone. Your fingers were hovering over the keyboard but you really couldn’t think of what you should text Johnny. You didn’t want to seem weird. With how confident he was, he probably did this a lot and you were too proud to make a fool of yourself. Groaning you tossed and turned in your bed for a while, still staring at the empty chat box that by now must be mocking you for your cowardice. Sighing you typed out another short message to immediately delete it again. Should you just send him a simple ‘Hi’ or ask him if he had eaten? How the rest of his day went? In moments like this you whished you were more confident in yourself.

The sound of an incoming message suddenly filled the room and made you jerk. When you saw Johnny’s name on the screen, your heart first stopped for a second before it started beating about three times as fast as it should. How did that happen? With shaking hands you unlocked the phone to see that you in fact didn’t delete the last message but accidentally send it. Luckily it wasn’t as embarrassing as it could have been and Johnny had just answered that he was glad that you had finally texted him. Before you could think of an answer he sent another text asking you why you were still awake this late when he expected you to be a ‘good girl’. You could practically hear his smirk and you couldn’t fight the heat that rose to your cheeks. You replied that you were already in bed and were about to sleep if he was concerned about your sleep pattern that honestly wasn’t the greatest ever since the semester had started. ‘Oh, sexting already’ he replied, making you shriek in embarrassment. Was this what your message had looked like? ‘You alone?’ He asked and with a furiously beating heart you answered with a simple yes.

A couple of seconds went by with no answer from him which definitely didn’t lower your anxiety before the loud sound of your ringtone tore through the silence, Johnny’s name on the display. You quickly answered it to not wake up anyone on your floor, pressing it tightly to your ear. “Hello?” “Good evening, miss,” you heard the rumble of Johnny’s voice, “Missed me already?” “You’re the one who called,” you argued, making the man on the other end of the line giggle. “That is true.” “Why did you call?” You asked curiously, shifting to lie down on your back, staring at the ceiling. “Just wanted some company. My last client just left and I’m cleaning up the shop for today, the others already left,” he explained. “Jaehyun and Taeyong?” “Yeah those two guys,” he sighed and you heard him rummaging in the background. “Is it just you three at the shop?” “Yeah, it was just me and Taeyong at first but Jaehyun is an incredibly quick learner once he had found someone who was willing to teach him a thing or two. So he quickly joined the two of us.” You just hummed, your fingers playing with your hair, unsure of what to say. It was somehow easier to talk to him like this when you couldn’t see his eyes twinkle in mischief or his lips curling up in that confident smirk. Like this he was just a boy who wanted company and not an insanely handsome, heavily tattooed man who flirted shamelessly. “Do you usually work this late?” You asked to fill the silence and out of curiosity as well. If the shop wasn’t legal there sure weren’t any laws regulating how long the artists were supposed to work. “I don’t,” Johnny laughed, “But thank you for your concern. I was just tattooing a friend for free after my last paying client left because he was in the area.” “You do that a lot? Offering up your services for free?” “Just for friends and special people, doll,” he chuckled, “Why? Are you considering getting inked after all?”

Well were you? You didn’t even know at this point. Whenever you had thought of tattoos you had only ever thought about big bold and very black lines, of skulls, names of exes on your skin forever and warped pictures of people’s faces. But never of delicate flowers, bright colors and intricate designs. Johnny had made it obvious that it was art that he was doing and that it wasn’t just some technical procedure to get color beneath your skin. “I- I don’t know,” you confessed, “I never thought much about tattoos until Jaemin started getting them.” “I thought so,” the artist chuckled, “But I bet I could design a pretty piece that would compliment you nicely.” “I don’t think I’m the type for it though,” you argued, thinking about the amount of ink on Johnny’s body and you hadn’t even seen half of it. (Not that you planned on doing so but you were curious to know if there was more hiding beneath his clothes.) “It doesn’t have to be an obvious one. Just something only you know about.” That really got you thinking. His tattoos were really delicate and you had seen that he could write in really pretty cursive. “I don’t want to pressure you into anything, darling. But if you ever want one, you know who to ask.”

“Yeah, thank you Johnny,” you murmured, lost in thought about how you would look like with multiple tattoos. “I like the way you say my name.” “You- what?” You stuttered when he caught you off guard like that, making him laugh. “You’re cute,” he said once he had calmed down. “Stop pouting,” he added when you weren’t answering. “How did you know I was?” Johnny chuckled again. “I just knew.” “Thank you for keeping me company,” he said when you hadn’t said anything in a while. “It’s alright. I like talking to you,” you confessed. You could hear a door closing and his deep chuckle on the other end of the line. “You probably hear that a lot…” you murmured, embarrassed at how the words had slipped past your lips. “I actually don’t,” Johnny said, “I appreciate the words, darling. I’m all done cleaning up now, thank you for keeping me company.” “It’s fine, no need to thank me.” “You should go sleep now, it’s already late. Sweet dreams, doll. Maybe I’ll even visit you.” “Goodnight, Johnny,” you squeaked. The last thing you heard before he ended the call was another chuckle and a hushed goodbye. Smiling widely you turned your face into your pillow to muffle the scream you let out. How could this man make your heart beat faster like that with just a few simple words? And why did this short phone call make you so happy? Sighing, you put your phone to your nightstand and cuddled tightly into your blanket, the thought of Johnny’s smooth voice guiding you to sleep where he indeed did visit you.

After that initial phone call, Johnny called you more and more often. Sometimes when he was on his lunch break and his colleagues were still working, sometimes later at night when your head was spinning from studying and he was cleaning up the shop. You two talked about your days, you complained about professors, deadlines and assignments and he told you about tattooing and his sometimes crazy clients. And every now and then Johnny would bring up his offer to tattoo you. Which made your thoughts spiral every single time. In class you would scroll through Johnny’s Instagram account, imagining what some of the intricate, more feminine designs would look like on your skin. After much consideration you definitely ruled out anything big or colorful. But something small wouldn’t hurt, right? Well it would, you would be giving him permission to stab you with an automated needle a bunch of times which in itself sounded really scary. But Jaemin’s tattoo looked nice. And after his skin had peeled, the hummingbird truly looked absolutely incredible and you couldn’t wait for him to visit the shop again to keep working on the sleeve.

So in a whim of bravery and with the help of the little glass of wine you had drank you told Johnny that he should tattoo you. “Are you for real?” He asked. “I am,” you giggled, “I’ve thought about it a lot the past weeks.” “I am honored, darling. What will it be?” “Something small and no colors please,” you told him. “That’s all you’re asking for?” “Yeah, I… I like the simple black stuff you do,” you stuttered, suddenly really nervous and unsure if this was actually a good idea. “I’ll design something that’ll match you perfectly,” Johnny promised, sounding very eager. You could hear some rummaging on his end of the line. “I could fit you in Friday evening after my last client. It won’t be too late and I need some time to come up with a design that’s worthy of being in your body.” You swallowed dryly. If you said yes, you couldn’t back out anymore. You would be getting inked. Secretly. Without telling anyone. Not to mention illegally. In a reasonably shady shop that was owned by the most gorgeous man you had ever met. Taking a deep breath, you nodded before you realized that he couldn’t see that. “I’ll be there,” you promised. “I’m looking forward to it, doll,” Johnny said before he wished you sweet dreams just like every time when he called you late at night.

The neon light in front of the door to the shop was already shut off when you arrived the next Friday late in the evening but the door gave away when you pushed it open with trembling hands after taking a deep breath. “I thought you weren’t going to come, darling, you left me waiting,” Johnny greeted you, jumping down from the counter he had sat on. He was wearing a simple black t-shirt with a little white rose design over his heart that fit him perfectly. His hair was elegantly swept back, exposing the freshly shaved part on the side. “I’m sorry,” you mumbled, fumbling with the sleeves of your hoodie. “Don’t be nervous, I’ll take good care of you,” he promised, quickly locking the front door before taking you to his room where he motioned for you to sit on the bench. “Do you trust me?” He asked, tipping your head up so you would look into his dark eyes. “I- I think I do,” you stuttered. “I won’t tell you what you’re getting,” Johnny grinned and your eyes widened in shock. “You will like it and it’s not that big.” “I’m not sure, Johnny,” you voiced your concerns but he just pressed his index finger to your lips before you could say any more. Your breath hitched and he could definitely feel your shaky exhale against his finger. “You said you trust me, doll.” Taking another shaky breath, you nodded and a smile spread over his plush lips. “I need you to take off your shirt and lie down on your left side,” he spoke, his voice casual but you could feel something shift in the air between you. At a loss for words you just nodded again and did as Johnny asked when he turned around to gather his stuff.

“Take a couple of deep breaths for me, darling,” he instructed you when he rolled over on his little stool, his glasses sitting low on his nose and his hands already gloved. “It’s going on your ribs,” he told you so you wouldn’t flinch when he quickly dragged a razor over the area before disinfecting it. “I’ll draw a quick sketch first. I don’t want to mess it up when it’s going on your beautiful skin.”  You felt the tip of his pen meet your skin in a gentle stroke, tickling your skin so you had to giggle. “Don’t make me mess this up, baby,” Johnny scolded, playfully slapping your back. “It tickles,” you pouted. “I’m trying to be gentle with you,” he said and you could hear the smile in his voice. While he was sketching, you closed your eyes, trying to figure out what he was drawing. But all you could figure out was that it was something rather small which calmed your nerves a bit.

“All done,” the tattoo artist announced after a while and quickly pulled his little side table with his tattoo gun and ink closer. When the low buzzing noise filled the air, you pressed your eyes shut even tighter, balling your hands into fists. Technically you knew it wouldn’t hurt badly, Johnny had shown you before. But you were still getting stabbed a bunch of times and fuck, you were really doing this. Letting this man put something on your body that was going to be there forever and you didn’t even know what it was going to be. “Relax, darling. I’ll be as gentle as I can be,” he promised, running a hand up and down your back. “It’s going to be on me forever,” you said. “It is. Your own personal piece of art on your body. Just for you to have.” That was a beautiful way to see it, you thought. It’s not just some pigment stabbed into your skin but art. Something unique no one else had. And Johnny would be painting it on just you for you and you alone. “Okay, let’s do this,” you breathed. “That’s my good girl,” Johnny praised and the words made your stomach twist with a feeling you didn’t want to further explore.

The pain was bearable. It was weird at first and the ribs sure hurt more than it had on your arm and the bones somehow seemed to amplify the buzzing, making it travel through your body. You had to grit your teeth when Johnny went over what seemed to be the middle part of the tattoo, where he grazed the skin in quick successions. “That hurts.” “I know, baby. But you’re almost done. You’re doing so well for me,” he soothed and gave you a small break to breathe before he went back in.

“All done, darling,” Johnny announced a little later, turning off his machine and rubbing the tattoo down with a wet paper towel. “Can I see it now?” You asked. “In a bit, keep your eyes closed,” he spoke softly and took your hands in his now ungloved ones to first guide you into a sitting position and then off the bench and over to what you assumed to be the mirror. He turned you so your side was facing the glass and put one of his big hands on your waist. It felt hot on your exposed skin and made goosebumps break out on your skin. “Open your eyes, doll.” You did and looked directly into his dark chocolate brown eyes behind his glasses. “I’m too scared to look now, is that silly?” You asked, losing yourself in his eyes and leaning towards his body that just seemed to radiate heat. “It’s beautiful, just like you,” he assured you, squeezing your waist reassuringly. After taking a deep breath, you tore your gaze away from him and turned to look at yourself in the mirror where a delicate, black chrysanthemum was awaiting you on the skin over your ribs. It indeed looked beautiful, absolutely stunning. It was small but looked so delicate and realistic and fit well with the curves of your body. “It’s stunning,” you whispered.

“Thank you, Johnny.” “No need to thank me, darling,” he chuckled and when your eyes met again, his were dark and almost hungry. “But I think I should reward you for being so good while I tattooed you.” Before you could ask what kind of reward he was talking about, he had already connected your lips in a passionate kiss and pulled your body flush against his. You couldn’t help but sigh now that you finally knew what the metal of his lip piercing felt like against your lips. Johnny was a good kisser and you were boneless in his strong grip not long after he had slipped his tongue past your lips after you had moaned into the kiss when he had started to push you backwards to the bench again, hoisting you back up. “Let me make up for the pain I’ve caused you,” he breathed against your swollen lips when you broke apart to breathe.   “Just keep kissing me like that,” you demanded, burying your hands in his soft black locks to kiss him again. He chuckled and let you dominate the kiss for a while, toying with the black ring in his lip and exploring his mouth. Meanwhile Johnny’s hands started to wander from their place on your waist down to grope at your ass, pulling you forward against him, so you could feel his growing erection between your legs which made a spark of arousal shoot through you.

“Let me make you feel good, baby,” he breathed heavily while kissing down your neck, gently taking the skin between his teeth. “Please Johnny,” you begged, feeling the arousal simmer low in your stomach. Grinning he pulled back and raked his dark eyes over your figure before making quick work of your belt and sliding your jeans along with your panties from your legs, only shortly struggling with your shoes. “It’s not Johnny now, baby,” he rasped when he kneeled down in front of you, pulling you towards him roughly, so your glistening core was exposed to him. “It’s Daddy,” he added before licking a broad stripe through your folds and flicking his tongue at your clit. You could just mewl and throw your head back in pleasure. You didn’t know that this would be such a turn on for you. “Say it, baby,” Johnny demanded, lazily dragging his tongue over your sensitive bundle of nerves. “Please Daddy,” you whimpered and you could feel his low groan vibrating against your core. He wasted no time to attach his plush lips to your clit, gently sucking and grazing his teeth over the little nub, making you mewl and shiver in pleasure. He definitely knew what he was doing, altering between stimulating your clit to the point where it almost became too much before he focused on dragging his tongue through your folds, gently prodding against your entrance before it gave away. When Johnny moaned you could feel it travel straight through you, making your head swim with pleasure. Looking down to the man kneeling in front of you, you were met with his dark eyes, staring straight up into yours. Moaning, you threaded your fingers into his soft hair and pressed his face closer to your core, not even taking the chance that he could move back. “Feels so good, Daddy,” you moaned when he spread your labia with his fingers so his tongue could dive deeper into you, stimulating your velvety walls. When he hummed it send sweet vibrations through your core and you could feel your orgasm approach almost embarrassingly fast. “Mmmh, so close Daddy.” “You wanna cum, baby?” He rasped, his hot breath fanning over your clit that he was lazily rubbing with two fingers. You bit your lip and met his dark eyes, nodding furiously. “Then beg for it, doll. I could stay here for hours,” Johnny spoke before he turned his head to mouth at your thigh, gently biting and sucking at the sensitive skin until it bruised under his ministrations. “I would just keep you right on the edge for hours until you’re a shaking mess for me, begging for release.” His lips split into a wicked grin when he saw how his dirty words affected you and he slowed his fingers on your clit until it was just enough to keep you stimulated but not enough to make the knot in your stomach snap. “Please Daddy,” you whimpered. “Please what baby?” He rested his head on your thigh, looking up at you from innocent eyes as if he wasn’t driving you insane with just his fingers. “What is it beautiful?” He repeated the question, replacing his fingers with his tongue. “You wanna cum?” “Yes please,” you whined, grinding your hips against his tongue to get more friction. “Well if you ask so nicely…” Johnny immediately slipped two fingers inside you with almost no resistance from how ridiculously wet you were and began pumping them in and out of your core fast, crooking them to search for your sweet spot. “Come on baby,” he growled, locking eyes with you again when he closed his lips around your clit. Almost screaming his name, you came hard when his fingers finally found your sweet spot, rubbing at it mercilessly to help you ride out your orgasm. Your thighs were shaking and you fell back onto the bench, the leather sticking to your back where you just laid for a while, your head spinning, breathing heavily.

“You look gorgeous like that,” Johnny complimented you, when he got back up from the floor, raking his clean hand through the mess that was his hair before he shamelessly took his fingers that were covered in your essence into his mouth, sucking them clean. Through half lidded eyes you could see the way he was still straining against the fabric of his jeans and the sight made your mouth water. “You’re still hard,” you said breathless.   “I am,” he said matter of factly. You wordlessly let your thighs fall open for him, exposing your core to him. “Oh baby,” Johnny cursed, pressing the heel of his palm against his bulge, “As much as I want to fuck you right now, you still have a fresh tattoo, doll.” “Please, Johnny, I want it,” you begged. “Shh, baby,” he soothed you rubbing a hand over your thigh, “Let me dress that tattoo and then I’ll take you upstairs to fuck you on an actual bed like you deserve.” You nodded, amazed by his amount of self-control.

Johnny worked quickly and efficiently: Cleaning your tattoo one last time before putting some ointment on it to keep it moisturized. At last he gently taped down a small sheet of plastic foil to keep it safe. “All done, beautiful,” he spoke before pecking your lips, “You still want to come upstairs with me?” “Yes Daddy,” you answered and you swore you could see his eyes darken just from the word alone. “Hold on tightly,” he ordered before scooping you up into his arms, holding you up by your thighs. Squealing you quickly wrapped your arms and legs around him, holding on tightly. “I’ll get your clothes before we open up tomorrow,” he mumbled when he carried you through the back door of the shop that lead to a dusty staircase. You pressed your body closer to his, nuzzling your face into his neck where the smell of his cologne was the strongest, to have some of his warmth seep into your skin when you started to shiver from the cold air. Lazily you let your lips travel over his skin, sucking a mark next to a splash of ink.

Johnny quickly grabbed the keys to his apartment’s door from atop of the doorframe (not really safe) and unlocked his door while holding you up with just one of his arms, the display of strength making your head spin. With quick steps he crossed the way to his bed and gently laid you down on the soft sheets, immediately crawling on top of you, crowding you against the mattress. “I knew you would look good in my bed,” he rasped, kissing your neck while his hands made quick work of the bra that you were still wearing for some reason. “You’re gorgeous, doll,” he breathed after he had sat up on his knees, looking down at you with dark eyes, his big hands roaming your body. Feeling shy under all the attention and compliments he was giving you, you tried to hide your face behind your fingers but he wasn’t having any of it, quickly grabbing your wrists in one hand to pin them above your head. “Don’t hide from me baby. Daddy wants to see how much you’re enjoying yourself.” You could just nod, trying to force down the whimper that almost spilled past your lips, he hadn’t even done much yet and you were already feeling arousal pulse through your veins. “I couldn’t hear your answer,” Johnny teased, gently grabbing one of your boobs to massage the soft flesh. “Yes, Daddy.” “That’s my good girl,” he grinned, releasing your wrists to slip his T-Shirt over his head, revealing his strong chest where the eagle majestically spread its wings and the hard lines of his abs. “Like what you see?” He asked smugly, climbing off the bed to unbuckle his belt and slip his jeans off his narrow hips, revealing strong, muscled thighs. One of them was covered with the face of a growling panther while the other was decorated with a colorful koifish tattoo that disappeared beneath the fabric of his dark boxers that were doing very little to hide a prominent bulge. “Let me,” you breathed and crawled over to hook your thumbs into the waistband. But before you pulled them down, you pressed a couple of kisses to the cherry blossom branch tattoo that seemed to stretch from his back over his hipbone and further down, mingling with the koi tattoo further down. With every centimeter of skin you exposed, more ink from the blossoms became visible and you kissed every single one of the delicate flowers. When his length finally sprang free, you had to swallow dryly: His cock was huge and hung heavy between his legs. Licking your lips you looked up to him, to find him grinning down at you. “Go to town, baby.”

He didn’t need to tell you twice, you were itching to feel his heavy weight on your tongue. You pressed a sweet kiss to his tip before placing a hand at the base only to find him surprisingly soft as you experimentally pumped your hand once. “It takes a while for it to get fully hard,” he groaned when you moved your hand up and down his shaft a couple of times, feeling it pulse beneath your fingers. Damn if he wasn’t even fully hard, how big would he be if he was? Holding him at the base, you licked a broad stripe up the whole length before you swiped your tongue around the pink head, pulling another groan from Johnny’s lips. Taking a deep breath, you finally took him in your mouth and hollowed your cheeks, tasting his skin. The weight on your tongue felt just right and you couldn’t help but moan as you slowly started to take more and more of him until you felt him hit the back of your throat. Shit, you were barely able to fit half of his length in your mouth like this. “You’re so big,” you moaned when you pulled off of him with a wet pop, spreading your saliva down the shaft with both of your hands. Johnny just hummed and grabbed a handful of your hair to shove your mouth back onto his dick. He cursed when the velvety heat surrounded him again and gently began to thrust in and out your mouth. “Fuck you look so good with my cock in your mouth,” he breathed heavily. You could only moan where your lips were stretched around his length and hollow your cheeks when he pulled out, the grip he had on your hair keeping you in place while he snapped his hips. “Shit baby,” Johnny cursed when he pulled out, panting while he rested the head of his cock on your outstretched tongue. “I could cum like this.” You whined pathetically, looking up at him with pleading eyes. He chuckled and gently slapped his cock against your lips, smearing them with precum. “But you don’t want that, don’t you, baby? You want my cock inside you? Stretching you out?” “Yes Daddy, please. I need it so bad,” you blabbered, not even knowing where those words were coming from but you seemed to have said the right thing with how Johnny’s dick twitched in his hand.

“Then get on your hands and knees for me, baby. Ass up.” It was almost comically how fast you complied, baring yourself to him. “Such a good girl,” he praised, grabbing your asscheeks to knead and pull them apart. “Beautiful.” “Please Daddy,” you begged him, arching your back further. “Patience baby,” he chuckled. A frustrated groan got stuck in your throat and turned into a drawn out whine when he pushed two of his fingers inside you, pumping them quickly and curling them to find your sweet spot again. Soon two fingers became three and he had reduced you to a moaning mess with how he abused your sweet spot once he had found it again. “You think you’re ready for my cock, baby?” “Yes. Oh god, yes please,” you begged while shamelessly grinding back on his fingers that he had stilled inside of you. “Spread your cheeks for me,” he ordered while quickly grabbing a condom from his bedside table and rolling it onto his cock. Balancing your weight on your knees and shoulders, you reached around yourself to pull your asscheeks apart so Johnny could see your core clenching around nothing. “You’re such a good girl for me,” he rasped, running his palm along the curve of your body while lazily thrusting his cock through your folds, making it glisten with your essence. Finally you could feel him nudging at your entrance with the thick head of his cock. “You want it, baby?” “Yes please Daddy,” you gasped, trying hard to be good and not grind back against him. “You’re such a good girl for me,” he chuckled, “And good girls get what they want if they ask so politely.” With that he finally sank into you in one agonizingly slow thrust until you could feel his hip bones press against your skin. You had to screw your eyes shut and bite your lip to suppress a whimper. You had never felt so full before.

“Fuck baby, you’re so tight,” Johnny groaned, grabbing you by the dip of your waist with his big hands, grinding you on his cock. “I’m so full, Daddy,” you gasped when he slowly pulled out until only the head of his cock was inside you before he languidly thrust back in. “Yeah? You like that? Being stuffed full of my cock?” You could only moan and nod where your head was pressed into the sheets. His cock was so big that it seemed to press against every good spot that was inside you, setting your nerve endings on fire, the pain from being stretched like that only adding to your pleasure. “You‘re sucking me right back in baby,” he cursed and gripped your waist harder, pulling you back on his cock as he picked up the pace, low groans falling from his lips. Your moans got progressively louder and louder the faster Johnny snapped his hips. “Hands behind your back, baby,” he ordered panting and immediately grabbed both your wrists in his hands to use them as leverage so he could fuck into you faster, the change of angle and pace making you moan his name. Your head was swimming with pleasure and you could only moan and mewl beneath him, imagining how he would bite his lip while watching his dick disappear inside you over and over again, stretching out the delicate skin of your sex. “God baby, your ass looks amazing,” Johnny groaned, praise after praise falling from his lips that reduced you to a moaning mess.

With one particularly hard thrust he buried himself to the hilt inside you and draped his body over yours, his hot breath fanning over your face when he spoke, a deep rumble in his chest while grinding his dick right against your sweet spot that had you seeing colors behind your closed eyes. “Wanna see you bounce on my dick, doll. Can you do that for me?” Taking a deep breath, you nodded. Your ability to form coherent sentences had left you as soon as he had begun to fuck you in earnest. “You’re such a good girl,” he purred and gently pulled out, making you whimper from the loss. You felt the bed dip next to you and when you opened your eyes, you were met with Johnny’s pleased smirk as he leaned against the headboard of the bed, his cock resting against his hip, too heavy to properly stand up and you couldn’t stop another whimper. “Come on baby, I know you want it,” he grinned, crooking a finger in a ‘come closer’ motion. Dragging your limbs from beneath you with great effort, you climbed onto his lap, immediately claiming his lips in a messy kiss. You buried your hands in his stupidly perfect hair to mess it up and tug at the inky strands, causing Johnny to moan into the kiss. “Hmm, my baby is feisty,” he chuckled when he broke the kiss, the pupils of his dark eyes blown so wide that they seemed almost black. “But you promised me to ride my dick,” he reminded you. “And I’m gonna,” you slurred, reaching between your bodies to grab his cock, giving it a couple of strokes. “But turn around for me baby. Wanna see how much my fat cock is going to stretch you out,” he rasped, playfully biting your lips. “But I want to see you too,” you complained. “Oh you can,” he grinned and pointed over your shoulder. You reluctantly turned around before you saw what he meant. Right across from the bed was a big mirror and you gasped because of how fucked out you already looked. A couple of tears had rolled down your cheeks and messed up your makeup and your lipstick was smeared around your lips.

You carefully grabbed Johnny’s cock again and held it steady so you could sink down on him, watching yourself in the mirror until you sat snug on his lap and had to close your eyes because the feeling was so overwhelming. He felt even bigger like that. “You okay, baby?” He asked, grabbing your hips tightly to help you swivel them on his cock, making it press into your walls just how you liked it. “How does your cock feel even bigger like this?” You gasped as you leaned forward and slowly started to ride him at first to get used to his size and figure out the best angle for you. Your legs shook with the effort to keep your rhythm but the look Johnny had on his face, his eyes glued to where you two were connected, made it worth it. Suddenly a wicked grin spread on his lips and he snapped his hips up when you lowered yourself again, tearing loud moans from both of you. “Fuck, do that again,” you demanded when you raised your hips again. “What’s the magic word?” Johnny teased, holding you up so you wouldn’t drop down again. “Please, Daddy.” Groaning he started to snap his hips up every time you ground down on him, making your skin slap together with an obscene noise.

God you wanted to die on his dick. “Do you now?” Johnny laughed. Shit did you say that out loud? “Want to feel how deep it goes inside you?” He rasped, wrapping his strong arms around your waist. You went lax in his hold and mewled helplessly. Who knew that a little display of strength and a big dick were such turn ons for you that your brain was reduced to mush. Grinning he carefully pulled you up and against his chest and draped your legs over his after he had planted his feet firmly onto the mattress. “Watch, baby,” he ordered as he lifted you off of him until only the tip was barely inside you anymore before letting you drop down again. You mewled and thrashed in his hold, the feeling just on the edge of too much. Feeling him deep inside you was one thing but actually seeing it was a whole other thing and it messed with your head. Curiously you pressed your hand down on your lower stomach when Johnny had started to piston his hips up into you instead of dropping you down onto his cock every time and you swore you could feel him move inside you. A drawn out curse left your lips and you threw your head back onto his shoulder.

With the way he was snapping his hips up you could feel your orgasm approach at lightning speed and you were so far gone that you shamelessly reached between your legs to stimulate your clit. “Fuck baby, you’re so hot like this,” Johnny groaned, grinding his dick inside you as you quickly rubbed your clit, toeing right on the edge. “Please Daddy,” you cried out, not sure what you were even begging for. “You gonna cum on my cock?” He rasped, snapping his hips harshly, “Wrapped around my big cock stretching you out like this?” You nodded your head furiously, your eyes screwed shut. You were so close that you could already feel your toes curling. “Show me baby. Show Daddy how good his cock makes you feel.” That’s what pushed you over the edge, the way he was panting in your ear, his voice strained from how he was drilling into you. The coil in your stomach snapped and you almost screamed his name, your body curling inwards and thighs shivering as your orgasm washed over you, making a bunch of colors explode behind your lids. In the back of your mind you registered Johnny’s curses and how he was grinding his cock inside you to help you ride out your orgasm. “Such a good girl,” he praised when your body went lax on top of him, your chest heaving with heavy breaths. You briefly wondered if you had ever cum this hard and you couldn’t think of any other time. “Thank you Daddy,” you panted, turning your face to press a messy kiss to his plush lips that were bitten raw. He chuckled lowly when you whimpered when his still hard cock shifted when you tried to turn around.

“Will you let me fuck you for a little longer, baby?” He asked, running a hand through your sweaty hair. Instead of answering him, you lifted yourself off his dick to turn around on his lap, capturing his lips again. “Want you to ruin me,” you whispered between kisses, “Want you to ruin me for any other men. Want to only remember how you feel inside of me.” Johnny growled deep in his chest before he pushed you down onto the bed, hungrily licking into your mouth. “You’re the one who is ruining me,” he panted, rising to his knees. He quickly grabbed your legs and threw them over his shoulders before he sank into you again with a low groan. This time he didn’t waste any time with building up the pace and immediately snapped his hips harshly, chasing his own orgasm. “You’re taking me so well, baby,” he panted, folding your thighs to your chest so he could push into you even deeper, making you see stars with how he was nailing your sweet spot with the new angle. And even though you had just cum, you felt another orgasm build inside your stomach. A row of curses left Johnny’s lips when he could watch his dick slide in and out of you again and he gripped your thighs so hard you were sure you’d have bruises there tomorrow. But that was something you’d worry about later, right now your world was only made up of the handsome man with his huge cock that was currently rearranging your guts with how vigorously he was snapping his hips, making your skin slap together with lewd sounds.

“I’m gonna cum baby,” Johnny grunted, his hips losing their rhythm. “On me,” you managed to choke out, still lost in your own pleasure. Another groan left his bitten lips before he quickly pulled out and ripped the condom off, jerking his cock with quick strokes, his eyes fixed to yours. All it took was a couple of jerks before he threw his head back and you could see his abdominal muscles contract before the first burst of white hot cum spurted from his dick and covered your chest and stomach. With parted lips he stroked himself through his orgasm, milking rope after rope from his cock until he hissed with overstimulation. “Fuck,” he cursed before giggling when he saw the mess he had made of you, his cum dripping from your boobs and running down your stomach. He cursed again before claiming your lips. “You want to cum one last time, baby?” “Please Daddy,” you whined, spreading your legs further for him. “My good girl,” he sighed, sinking two fingers into your heat, quickly crooking them to stimulate your sweet spot while his thumb was putting sweet pressure on your clit, making you thrash beneath him. “You look so good covered in my cum,” he rasped before he kissed you harshly to swallow your moans and cries of pleasure. You desperately held on to his shoulders, breaking the kiss when your head was spinning from the lack of oxygen. While speeding up his fingers, Johnny began sucking bruises low on your neck and over the soft skin of your cleavage. “Shit, I’m gonna-“ you didn’t get to finish your sentence because right that moment he had sucked one of your nipples into his mouth which was just enough to send you over the edge for a third time that night, your lips parted in a silent scream of his name and your thighs shaking and closing around the handsome man kneeling between them. “That’s my good girl,” he praised breathily and gently rocked his fingers to help you ride out your orgasm before he pulled them out, instead winding his strong arms around your body, holding you to his inked chest.

For a while he just held you close, not caring that his cum was now also stuck to his chest. “Fuck that was a lot,” you chuckled, burying your face in the crook of his neck, inhaling his calming scent. “Not what you thought would happen when you get a free tattoo?” Johnny softly spoke, carding his hand through your messy hair. “Not at all.” Another question was burning inside your head but you were too scared to ask it. You didn’t want to push him and ruin the mood. “I should clean you up and see if that tattoo is still okay. Then we can cuddle, alright?” The tattoo artist said before he detangled your bodies from one another to get up from the bed. He looked around on the floor for a cloth and you could finally see where the cherry blossoms on his hip were coming from. A big samurai was stretched over half his back, surrounded by the pinkish blossoms. It seemed like it wasn’t a complete piece yet, the samurai staring at the still untouched skin of Johnny’s left shoulderblade. “Your back tattoo is really pretty,” you mumbled to fill the silence while Johnny was wiping his chest clean before he gently did the same to you, taking extra caution when looking at your still fresh tattoo. “Thank you,” he smiled, pressing a kiss to your forehead, the metal of his piercing feeling warm on your skin, “We should change that foil real quick.” You just nodded and let him do his work, exhaustion settling into your bones.

“Do you do this with all your clients?” Shit. You hadn’t meant to ask that, the question had just slipped your lips and you could feel Johnny freeze where he was dressing your tattoo again before he secured the last piece of tape. He sighed and slipped beneath the covers, pulling you against his chest, so you could listen to his heartbeat. “Not all of them,” he answered eventually, “I haven’t slept with a client in a while. It happens sometimes but usually I don’t think much about it.” “And now you do?” He just hummed nonchalantly, playing with your hair. “They usually don’t come back after I fuck them.” He paused, holding his breath. “Will you come back?” Your heart started to race and you could feel a bright smile spreading over your lips. “For more free tattoos and piercings?” “Oh, yeah, I guess,” he sounded so deflated, the confident tattoo artist suddenly gone. “You idiot,” you giggled, pillowing your head on his sternum so he could see the smile on your lips, “I like you Johnny. I’ll come back if you want me to.” Now he was also smiling, his features softening. “Don’t make jokes like that, my heart is fragile,” he joked, wrapping you up in his strong arms.  

“Which one was your first one?” You asked him when the silence between you stretched while you traced the scales of the dragon that wound around his arm. “My first tattoo?” Johnny shifted around for a while before he showed you his other arm that had all kinds of different designs on it, some in bright colors, some strictly black. “That little guy over here,” he said with a smile on his lips and pointed to a little sunflower at the bend of his elbow, “To remind me to always look at the sun, at the bright side of life.” “It’s cute,” you breathed, touching the yellow petals. “And then it went downhill from there,” he chuckled, “It’s addicting.” “Let’s hope I can stay abstinent.” “What a shame, I’d love to cover you in my art,” Johnny confessed, tilting your face up so he could claim your lips in a kiss. “Maybe one or two more,” you breathed in between kisses, making him chuckle against your lips.

[reidscanehand]

saw you staring

Based on this request from @musicxlover97 : 33

Thank you for this request! xx

Prompts:

33. "I notice when you stare at my lips, you know. You can just kiss me and get this awkward part out of the way."

Pairing: Spencer Reid x BAUfem! Reader

Category: Fluff

TW: Very little alcohol consumed by legal adults

Word Count: 1384

A lil fluffy fun. I hope you like it! I’m so sorry it’s late; my flatmates came back from school break today and it’s been an all day project moving them back in! xx 

Spencer Reid has always found himself to be a singularly meticulous human being. From his clothes, to the way he keeps his possessions, to the way he holds himself, Spencer, in layman’s terms, is fussy. But, he doesn’t really care if he comes across as fussy, partially because this behavior makes him comfortable in the chaotic world around him. But also, now that he’s older, he’s learned to claim the parts of himself that make him him. Knowing this about himself and being rather finicky about the world around him have given him the life he has. A life he wouldn’t really trade for anything. Especially now that you’re part of it.

Now, if Spencer’s fastidiousness is noticeable, yours is positively innate; a part of your being that isn’t just obvious to profilers. And Spencer thinks it’s the most adorable trait he’s ever seen in another human being. He’s pretty sure he was the first to notice your fastidiousness. You were sitting on the jet eating a pack of mixed sour gummies. Absolutely fascinated, he’d watched as you separated each type of gummy on a small paper plate that you’d quietly and politely asked for; hearts, cola bottles, cherries, and gummy bears. You then proceeded to eat them, in a disseminating order based on what Spencer finally realized after an embarrassingly long amount of study was your preference of flavors: gummy bears first, then cola bottles, then cherries, finishing on hearts. It took you close to a half hour to complete the small package. And it was the most charming display of slight fussiness he’d ever seen.

There were things that became apparent to everyone, but Spencer was always the first to notice. You fold pieces of paper over three times before using them as a bookmark. You format your case notes the same way every time. You check the creases in your clothes and roll back your shoulders before entering interrogations. As others start to notice your behaviors and tease you, even in the kind, familial way the team tends to tease, Spencer finds himself becoming quietly protective of you. In some cases, he’s not so quietly protecting you.

“Hey,” he sidles up to Derek one afternoon, “can I talk to you about something?”

“Of course,” Derek replies cheerily, leaning back in his desk chair. “What’s going on, Pretty Boy?”

“Could you...um...could you not…” Spencer keeps his voice down, determined not to bring attention to the conversation, his eyes flitting to your desk across the bullpen as you flip a pen through your fingers. He rocks his weight between his feet. “Could you not make fun of Y/N?”

“Make fun of Y/N? How are we making fun of Y/N?” Derek asks, confounded.

“I just...Y/N is still getting used to the team and I don’t want-”

“You don’t get upset when we make fun of you-”

“I used to!” Spencer whisper screams. Derek stares up at him from his seat, slamming his chair back to the floor, his mouth dropping open slightly, his eyes widening.

“Reid, I’m sorry, I-”

“Look, it’s fine,” Spencer interrupts him. “I’m fine now. I like who I am. I got used to it and I don’t care about it anymore, but Y/N...I don’t want...those little things that she does are...they’re very…” Spencer struggles to find the words, attempting to keep his voice down, even as a smile grows on his lips. “She’s a very endearing and precious person. I don’t want her to...I don’t want her to...I don’t want her to be self-conscious about...about anything, because...because she’s really wonderful and doesn’t deserve...that.”

Derek’s eyes grow wide, his eyes flitting unsubtly between the two of you, “Spencer do you...do you like Y/N?”

Usually, when Spencer is quizzed about his personal romantic life, he’s quiet about it, shoving off the curiosity and interest. But, in this moment, as he looks over at you once again, your pen still being flipped through your fingers, Spencer can’t help but smile, “Of course I do.”

~~~

About a week later following a successful case the entire team is easily convinced by Penelope to go out for an evening at a local bar. For Spencer, the evening is shockingly uncrowded and relatively fun, actually, and it has nothing to do with the single shandy he drank about an hour ago, and everything to do with the fact that you’re there and you haven’t left his side. If anything, the single margarita you’ve downed has made you slightly touchier than normal; warm and comfortable, leaning slightly into Spencer’s side. You’d asked if he minded, well aware of his sensitivity to touch, and he’d happily agreed to let you lean against him.

“You smell nice,” you whisper, the two of you left alone as the rest of the team have exited to the floor or back to the bar. Spencer glances down at you, his heart leaping at your drooping eyes and slight smile.

“Thank you,” he replies, a blush rising in his cheeks. “So do you.”

“Thank you, Doctor,” you reply, cozying deeper into his side. He shifts slightly, wrapping an arm around you, but not touching your shoulders. He keeps his arm above you on the booth, still lacking permission to touch you. Neither of you is drunk, but he would never touch anyone without their consent. 

“Are you not going to wrap me in your arms, Doctor?” you whisper. As though life in moving in slow motion, Spencer feels his head swivel to stare at you, eyes widening.

“I...what?”

“Do you not like me?” You’re looking up at him, your grin deepening tenderly as you maintain eye contact. “You stare at me enough. So, either you have a crush on me or...I constantly have something on my face that you’re not telling me about.”

“I...Y/N...I don’t...I, um…” he’s furious at himself for stuttering so uncontrollably. He swallows, almost painfully, “Of course I like you, Y/N.”

“Good,” you whisper, still staring at him. “Because I like you, too.”

“You like me?” Spencer asks in absolute disbelief.

“For a profiler,” you reply, moving ever so slightly closer to his face, eyes dropping from his eyes to his lips and back again as you speak, “you’re not very observant.”

Spencer feels like he’s drowning, but it’s not unpleasant. Drowning in your eyes is the best way he could conceive to die. All he can manage to say is, “Oh?”

“Well, Doctor,” you chuckle softly, “I’ve noticed your staring, but you somehow haven’t noticed mine.”

“You stare at me?” Spencer asks, still in absolute amazement that any of this is happening.

“Of course I do,” you reply, “and I’ve noticed many things.”

Spencer can do little but stare into your eyes, searching the depths of them, profiling you despite the workplace moratorium on profiling each other. He just simply can’t believe that he’s liked you for so long, that you know about it, and that you, apparently reciprocate.

“Really?” he breathes, scared to move. You’re so close now that the smallest of moves from him would touch his lips to yours.

“Oh, absolutely. You’re very charming, Doctor Reid. I notice how you twist pen caps, how you mark your place in books, how you follow the pages with the middle finger of your right hand as you read. And…” You glance at his lips before your eyes flicker back up to meet his, swallowing a little bit yourself before continuing to speak. “And I...I notice when you stare at my lips, you know.”

“I could say the same for you,” Spencer teases, his arms wrapping around you as you scoot closer to him, placing your hands on his chest.

You smile at him, catching your bottom lip in your teeth before releasing it to say, “You can just kiss me and get this awkward part out of the way."

“Can I? May I?” Spencer whispers, edging infinitesimally closer to you.

“I wish that you would,” you reply.

Spencer Reid is a singularly meticulous human being. You are an equally fastidious human being. But as the two of you kiss each other, it seems that you have both found your bearings in the chaotic world around you.

~~~

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[pingutats]

be this close, forever and ever

you and harry have been together for a while. your nights at home are quiet and comfortable, and, well, you’re both just so in love.

warnings: sexual content (soft giggly sex), mostly fluff

word count: 2.5k

.                               .                           .                               .                           .

Living with Harry, the two of you start to fall into the same rhythm. It’s not easy with his schedule as chaotic as it often is and your lives so profoundly different, but the nights when he’s home are the quiet sanctuary you need from all of those stresses. His little rituals seep into your own. The evenings are for being together, enjoying each other’s company without distraction or pressure. It’s just you and him, and the routine you’ve constructed so delicately together.

It starts with a face mask. Just because he’s so famous, he receives packages from different companies hoping for endorsements. He doesn’t really do those but he keeps the boxes anyway and most nights the two of you pick out one to try. He reads through the ingredients while you wait for the prescribed fifteen minutes to pass: pumpkin extract, baobab oil, a white flower extract.

“Which white flower?” Harry asks, looking up at you. 

His mask is wrinkled between his brows where he’s frowning and you reach up to smooth it out again, your hands coming away sticky. You wipe them on his sweatpants, which just makes him frown again. “Dunno,” you say, “but it must be a pretty powerful flower if it—” you snatch the packet out of his hand “—de-puffs, hydrates, and brightens our skin.” You scan the printed text for a moment. “I think this one’s supposed to be used in the morning.”

“Oh, fuck. The moon’s out. Was this all for nothing?”

After peeling off the masks carefully in the bathroom, you coo over each other’s soft skin ridiculously and move back into the living room for the next unspoken event of your night. Harry is borderline religious about meditating, somehow possessing the discipline to do it for twenty minutes day and night. You aren’t like him, but sometimes you join in. It is good for you, after all.

The two of you sit on the carpet, legs crossed and backs straight, side by side and within arms reach. The itch to reach out and touch him or lean over to put your head on his shoulder is strong, but you know it annoys him when you do that. He is so serious about it — “It doesn’t work if you keep poking me, the point is to be completely focused” — and even if you’ve never reached his fanaticism about the practise, you respect it so you keep your distance. Two minutes in, though, you’re starting to get bored. He can meditate for ages: twenty minutes is his standard, and you simply don’t have it in you to sit still for that long. Quietly, so as not to disturb him, you uncross your legs and stand up, padding across the soft carpet into the kitchen to turn on the kettle.

When the soft alarm he’s set on his phone rings and brings him back to reality, he blinks open his eyes to see you in front of him, holding two steaming mugs. It’s the tea he buys especially to have before bed, something a friend recommended to relax him. You aren’t sure if it really does anything, but it tastes good so you always have a cup too. When you think about it, you do almost always have a good sleep the nights that you drink it. Those nights are the ones you’re sleeping with Harry, though, so maybe it isn’t the tea. You set the mugs on the table nearby. 

“Thank you, love,” he says softly. He reaches to take hold of your hand and then suddenly drags you down to the floor, a tangle of limbs as you collapse on top of him. 

You giggle and then shriek as his fingers find the ticklish spot along your ribs. “Harry! Get off!”

His attack ceases very quickly when you accidentally elbow him in the stomach in your attempts to escape.

“Sorry, H.”

“’S alright. Probably deserved it.”

“You did.”

But he’s mostly quiet in the evenings — doesn’t like to talk too much as he decompresses from the busy-ness of his days, so he shows his affection more through his actions. As the two of you sip your tea (still on the floor, because with the plushy carpet he has it’s just as comfortable down here as on the couch) he reaches out to drum his fingers over your knee while he tries to remember all the things he needs to do tomorrow. He’s always written himself to-do lists and he got you hooked on them too. You were sceptical at first, but they do make life easier. The little thrill of ticking off boxes in your black notebook with your initials monogrammed on the bottom right corner (Harry’s gift) is a bonus. He’s less driven by those superficial rewards, so he chooses to keep his on his laptop, which is rose gold. His hand leaves you only to type the next line of his to-do list, then he’s back to tracing patterns over the fabric of your borrowed sweatpants. He emails the list to himself when he’s finished. You’ve always found that funny, and you tease him for being grandpa-ish, but it’s just another one of his eccentricities that makes him more endearing.

You probably wear his clothes just as much as you wear your own. He loves seeing you in his stuff. He’s practically throwing t-shirts at you as soon as you walk into the house. He’ll take your stuff, too, sometimes. Dating Harry comes with an unspoken agreement to merge your wardrobes. There are a couple of pieces — a hoodie or two, sweatpants that are too big for either of you, a pair of extremely fluffy socks — that have been passed between you for so long that you can barely remember who owned them first. The sweatpants you’re wearing right now (paired with just a sports bra) are his. The old band tee he has on is yours.

He carries the empty mugs back to the kitchen and loads them into the dishwasher while you finish the last of your planning. There’s no discussion around it, just like no one asked you to make the tea in the first place. The two of you just now how to work together now, with all the times you’ve practised this routine. Sometimes it’s him who makes the tea, sometimes you finish your list first, but you never really have to talk. Harry usually picks out an album to play in the background over these moments, and that’s the only thing you need to listen to. It’s good. It makes you feel more connected to him, like you understand each other on a deeper level than just being able to talk.  You know Harry like the back of your hand. He knows you almost as well as you know yourself. It’s a quiet kind of euphoria, to love and be loved back. You don’t need the fanfares and the grandiose displays. You just need each other.

Later, you pull faces at each other in the mirror while you brush your teeth, bumping hips as you giggle around your toothbrushes. He’s finished in the bathroom before you are, so he lies in bed  in just his boxers and watches you through the open doorway while you do your last couple of skincare and hair rituals. Satisfied, you switch the bathroom light off and enter the bedroom that you share, decorated with framed artworks you both chose, a bedspread that you picked out together. You quickly change into just a long loose shirt, then collapse into bed with him and crawl under the covers, his greedy arms pulling you to nestle into his side while he presses a kiss to your forehead. He likes to read before he sleeps, but you aren’t in the mood for that. You shuffle down until your head is at his chest and you throw your arm and leg over him, letting him rest his paperback against your bare thigh while he reads with you wrapped around him.

After a couple of minutes of just the sound of pages turning and your soft breaths, you start to sponge kisses over his bare chest. He ignores you at first, but you hear his breathing stutter as you move up to his collarbone.

“Let me just finish this chapter,” he murmurs. “Just a couple pages left.” His eyes don’t leave the page, but he gropes around until he finds your hand and brings your fingers to his mouth, kissing them before he lets your intertwined hands drop.

You don’t reply. You pull your hand out of his loose grasp and run your fingertips up the subtly defined lines of his abs, softened by the way he’s sitting. You trace the wings of the butterfly tattooed over his stomach, then draw a constellation between his four nipples — he chuckles and pulls your hand away, holding it tighter this time.

“Baby,” he says, a little firmer this time.

You kiss his shoulder again.

He sighs, closing the book (he doesn’t tear his eyes away from the page until it’s fully closed and you almost feel bad for distracting him until —

He throws the book on the nightstand and reaches over your body to plant his hand on the mattress, pushing himself up so he’s hovering above you. “You’re a pest,” he says, leaning down to nudge his nose against yours. 

You giggle and bite your lip, wrapping one leg around his hip and pulling him closer to you. “Kiss me?”

He obliges, pressing his lips against yours. “That all you wanted?” His tone is slightly teasing. He’s always liked to see you squirm.

You shake your head, wrapping your other leg around him. You can feel the bulge underneath his boxers against your crotch and it sets a fire in your core. You thread a hand into his hair and pull him down to kiss him again, less chastely this time. You roll your hips against him, just slightly, and smile against his kiss when you feel him twitch.

He breaks away from the kiss and smears his lips over your cheekbone to your ear. “Tell me, angel, tell me what you want you want and I’ll give it to you,” he whispers.

You barely contain a whimper at how deep his voice has gotten. “Fuck me,” you say, gasping as he starts to place hot openmouthed kisses down your neck. When you first slept together, you were too embarrassed to ask him so openly. You don’t get embarrassed around him anymore. “Harry, please fuck me.”

He pulls back suddenly, smiling down at you. “See? All you had to do was ask nicely.”

“Harry!”

He’s laughing as he pulls his boxers down to free his cock, but his giggles fade into a low moan as he takes hold of himself and strokes a couple times. “Ready for me, baby?”

“Yeah.”

He pushes into you with one fluid motion, making your eyes roll back. He fills you so perfectly. Every single time he’s in you is better than the last, it never gets old — there’s no feeling that’s as good as how he feels. Sometimes it’s explosive, sometimes he’s brutal in how he fucks you, or passionate and needy, or the both of you get caught up in the roles you make up to play, but you treasure the times like this. The times where he’s on top of you, face-to-face, alternating between kisses and whispers and little giggles — this is where you feel the most love for Harry.

He takes his time, in no hurry to end this moment. The pace he sets is slow but he reaches deep into you on each thrust, his breath coming out increasingly ragged every time he buries himself to the hilt. You have your hands in his hair and splayed across his back — he has one clutching the pillow beside your head to hold himself up, the other roaming over your chest. It’s like he can’t decide what he wants to do with his mouth: he’ll kiss your lips, then along your jaw, down your neck, then back up to your ear where he whispers all the sweet little nothings he can think of.

“So pretty, baby, love you so much, taking me so well, always my good girl, my best girl, my girl, always feel so good…” He chants it like a prayer, his words taking on a firmer tone each time he thrusts in, starting to pick up the pace a bit. “Touch yourself for me, darling, want to see you cum underneath me.”

You moan and reach down between your legs, rubbing little circles around your clit while he starts to fuck you at a faster pace. “Feels so good, Harry,” you say, your words choked slightly by the intensity of what you’re feeling right now.

“I know it does,” he replies, kissing you again, swallowing your moans. That edge of cockiness, the way he knows how to take care of you, when you just need his mouth on you and he can’t keep off you — you love all these little traits. You love him. And he loves you. That’s maybe the feeling to triumph over all the others.

“I’m close, I’m close,” you chant, the hand on his back digging fingernail marks into his skin as the warm feeling in your core rises, threatening to explode.

He thrusts into you faster, his rhythm growing slightly sloppy. “Yeah? Let go for me, baby, let go, I’m right behind you.”

You cum, legs shaking around him and brows pinched as you stare up at him, while he watches you cum undone with an intensity behind his gaze that wasn’t there before. You say his name, over and over, trying to put all you want to say into just that one word. You hope it’s enough. You think it is. He gets you.

“I’m gonna cum,” he says, words cut off by a pant, as you feel the aftershocks of your own orgasm and the growing over-sensitivity. “You feel so good, baby, gonna cum so hard…”

You feel him spill into you as he cries out, his body collapsing over yours so his entire body is pressed against yours. You thread your fingers through his hair until he starts to come down from his high and rolls off you, his cock slipping out and you hiss at the slight friction.

“God…” he murmurs into the air. “That was so good.”

You giggle, twisting around and propping your head up with your hand so you can look down at him. “You say that every time.”

“It’s good every fucking time,” he says, a smile spreading across his face.

You poke his dimple and he tries to catch your finger with his mouth, biting the air playfully, but you pull it away. “You’re such a weirdo.”

He pouts for a second, but then his features soften. “I love you.”

“I love you too.” You drop your head back down to the pillow, watching him stretch his arm out to turn off his bedside lamp. After a couple of swats at the switch, he finally manages it, and brings the same arm back over to drape over your body. It’s totally dark now. “Love you so much,” he tells you, kisses your forehead.

“Love you more. Goodnight, H. Sweet dreams.”

“Night, angel. Sleep well.”

.                               .                           .                               .                           .

hope you enjoyed -- let me know if u did, i like reading ur replies/tags !! i rlly loved writing this fic, it’s just so domestic and sweet and happy. the meditating and the to-do list (including the emailing !! ) is from the real harry. 

btw !! my ask box is open for requests & general chatter, so come say hi :D

[painless-innit-colourful]

‘We Planned Too Far Ahead’

A year ago today was the day Tommy and Techno took Connor hostage in order to get back Techno’s stuff from L’Manberg, which means it’s also the anniversary of that chaotic moment Tommy & Tubbo reunited for the first time since exile. Back in the summer, while watching some geese attack a child for bread, I was like ‘hey what if I wrote a fic about Clingy Duo Christmas jumpers? and made it sad??’ then I wrote it and forgot I had it ‘till this morning. Oh, also, Thalia makes a cameo.

(you can also read this on my ao3: painless_and_colourful)

---

"Green and red? That's very festive." 

The shopkeeper either missed their shared smirk or chose to ignore it, moving deeper into the racks. "Hold on- Thalia said she had something specially made for you. I'll just go get them." "Ah, Thalia." Tommy leant on a nearby rack and then immediately sprang back when it nearly collapsed under his weight. Tubbo suppressed a giggle. "She sure keeps us all in fashion." He said as he steadied himself again. Tubbo indicated Tommy's shirt by playfully tugging on it. "Or something. Won't you just try the uniform?" Tommy shifted foot to foot, pulling his 'I Don't Like This Topic' face. "Y'know..." Tubbo nodded, joining in with him when he said: "I'm not a big fan of men in suits." 

Tubbo sighed. "No points for style. Still, at least you wear a shirt." Tommy snorted. "Ah, yes. How long, on average, did it take for Big Q to lose his shirt at cabinet meetings?" "Eight and a half minutes," Tubbo grumbled immediately. "No fond memories of the Schlatt administration then?" Tubbo gave him a pointed look. "I think you know the answer to that." 

Just then, the shopkeeper returned, two brown paper packages in hand. "Here. She knew you'd be coming." "She usually does," Tubbo said with a smile. The two boys unwrapped the packages, revealing two Christmas jumpers, one red with green details, and one green with red. They both had a snowman on the front facing different directions, and the borders were decorated with multi-coloured Christmas lights. Tubbo beamed at his, "I didn't know Thalia knitted!" The shopkeeper just laughed. "She's a woman of many talents. I'll leave you to it." 

By the time she was gone, Tubbo had already put his on over his shirt - sometimes you go straight from work to Christmas jumper shopping. It fit pretty perfectly, as expected (Thalia has their measurements memorised, and if not, written down). Tubbo expected to see the same when he looked at Tommy, but his companion was giving his jumper a suspicious once over, like it was about to accuse him of arson. "What's up?" He looked up, and Tubbo could tell exactly what he was about to say. "Really?" "Put it on." "Reeeeeally?" "Put the jumper on Tommy." "Do I have to?" 

Tubbo leaned closer, making a mockery of their melodrama. "If you don't wear a Christmas jumper to the work Christmas party, so help me I'll- I'll demote you." "No." "To below Fundy." "No! Alright, alright!" They both fell into a round of laughter as Tommy pulled the jumper over his head. As with Tubbo, it fit him snugly, and he stared hard at his reflection in a nearby mirror. "It's alriiiight." "It looks good on you." "So does yours- Actually-" Tommy chuckled as he adjusted the neckline of his. "It's pretty convenient our colours are so Christmassy." 

"Are they alright?" Said a familiar voice behind them, and the two boys turned to see Thalia, supreme tailor of the SMP, standing with her arms folded over a roll of fabric that reminded Tubbo of Manberg wallpaper. "Ayyye, it's the woman of the hour!" She laughed at Tommy's cheering. "What hour is it? I've been sewing for about twelve. I think." "Give yourself a break Thalia, they're perfect, aren't they Tommy." Tubbo elbowed his vice. "Yeah, they're, uh, great." He snorted at Tubbo mouthing something about promoting Fundy. "They're fantastic. Thanks, Thalia." "Just make sure you enjoy yourselves at that do, okay? And save us a seat!" She called, walking away to the back of the shop. "You know you're always welcome in L'Manberg!" Tubbo called back. "I know!" 

"When is the Christmas party?" Tommy asked as they moved towards the counter to pay, shrugging his jumper off and haphazardly folding it. "The L'Manberg one or the cabinet one?" "Both." Tubbo chuckle-sighed. "The cabinet one's on the 23rd. And Christmas is Christmas." "Right. Hold on... You're telling me I have to wear this thing twice?" Tubbo laughed all the way back to L'Manberg. 

They showed their jumpers to Phil when he asked them where they'd been on that chilly early December morning. They showed Ghostbur and Fundy too, since they were nearby. Ghostbur squealed in delight seeing them matching, and Tubbo figured if he could get Ghostbur to be present at the parties, he might just get Tommy in a Christmas jumper out in public after all. 

If Fundy had remembered that day later in the month, he didn't say anything. And with Phil gone and Ghostbur missing in action, no one knew when they saw Tubbo that he wasn't wearing the right jumper. 

It was a size too big in the arms and baggy on the sides, but he saw that as a plus. On the days where he wanted nothing more than to stay in his room weeping, the jumper gave him somewhere to hide. He'd curl his fingers around the extra length of the sleeves and imagine it was Tommy's hand. 

And no one else knew. 

Until one late night. He'll admit, he had been drinking the evening before, but it was still technically Christmas, and he had good reason. And he was the President, so it wasn't like anyone could tell him no. He'd only been asleep a couple of hours, and he couldn't quite tell if he was still drunk or hungover when he was awoken by a sharp knocking on the door of his bedroom/office in the government building. "Mr President?" Was that Ranboo? What in the world did he want? 

"Mr- Oh- screw it- Tubbo? Tubbo wake up." He kicked at the duvet and connected instead with a table leg -  he'd fallen asleep at his desk and in his clothes, no less. "Yeah-?" He staggered to the door, commanding his sleep-addled brain and limbs 'up, go, that direction'. "What is it?" He opened the door to see the half-enderman half-whatever-he-was, looking like he'd been up half the night, wringing his hands anxiously. "Ah! Sir! Um- There's a bit of a situation, in- just outside L'Manberg. They're asking for authorities-" He found himself jogging a little to keep up with Tubbo, who'd just taken off down the corridor towards the exit. "Where?" "By the apiary- S-Sir!" He whirled around at the top of the stairs. "What?" "You, um- You're wearing a Santa hat, Tubbo." 

He snatched the stupid thing off his head (Prime only knows how it had stayed in place while he was asleep) and threw it to the floor. "Is it urgent?" "Um, yeah, but-" "Then this'll have to do." 

Yes, he was wearing a Christmas jumper and jeans and not his usual suit. Yes, he was about to walk into a serious situation. And yes, he was the President, and if his presence couldn't communicate that then the suit wouldn't make much difference. 

Across the boards of the highways, through the snow, between the camarvan and the new apiary. He was glad for the warmth from the jumper (only half wishing he'd kept the hat on), curling his fingers into the sleeves, searching for Tommy's presence that he had tried to call on since finding his method of suicide over a week ago. He'd been afraid at first of Tommy's ghost appearing, but with the passage of time, Tubbo felt more and more alone, and he longed to see his friend again, in whatever form. He rounded the corner, and curse the stars in the sky, curse the snow on the ground and may this be a warning against wishing for something in case it comes true, because speak of the bloody devil, there's Tommy. 

There's Tommy, standing next to Technoblade. There's Tommy, with a hostage at his side and a harsh expression on his face. There's Tommy, looking a bit worse for wear but warm and healthy and oh Prime, alive. He's alive. Technoblade smirks as Tubbo rounds the corner because yes, here's the president in a Christmas jumper, but Tommy's expression suddenly slips as he gives Tubbo a once-over, and his mouth falls open slightly as he mouths: 

"That's mine." 

'Yeah,' Tubbo thinks, watching as Tommy digests the fact that Tubbo's wearing his jumper, looking him in the eyes for a split second. And then he looks at Techno, and his face reverts to aggressive like it was before. 

'Yeah, it is.'

---

Taglist: @nixavia @zrenia @spaceheatertrash @waitblues @kinda-late-but-here-though @icyisweird @boomybelovd @rozugold @thatfriendlyanon

[bowandcurtsey]

Sorry, I’m new here and still learning the rules🥴

Pt. 2

Modern-ish? Or just say this is a “medical magic item” and it works 👍

May I request a scenario/headcanons for our very own Finral, Yuno, & Asta (Liebe manifesting out of Asta’s body and watching on the sidelines)?

Their pregnant s/o asks him “do me a favor?”, “sure.”, “thanks!” & she just walks away after he agrees... what’s the favor? Later she takes him to her baby Dr. AND said favor is a Labor Pain Simulations(google videos😅) “we’re in this together right?😁” *if he tries to get out of it once her realizes what the favor is - cue the ‘innocent’ blinking of the eyelashes paired with trembling puckered lips and her ‘puppy dog begging face’*

SO,

How does he react when she brings him there? How much convincing does it take for him to follow through on the favor? How does he react once they set him up? How does he react after they actually turn it on level1️⃣2️⃣3️⃣& when it’s over? Have his feelings/empathy for labor changed? And in Asta’s case what are some of Liebe’s reactions after they get there and he manifests and just watches from the sidelines next to Asta’s s/o? Even though he’s probably find quite a bit of the ordeal pretty hilarious… do you think Liebe’s level of empathy for Asta’s s/o when she’s gonna be in labor would be affected too?

(She 🖤s him but also does laugh - she is occasionally a sadistic prankster… not her fault, he already knew that about her and that she’s horrible at holding in her laugh & accepted those parts of her a long time ago so her hands are clean 🙌)

Hello lovely bby!

Asta and Yuno are still too young to be a dad, so I'm going to write Finral for this one! And since there's only one character, I'll add the bulls in as well! I miss my chaotic kids.

Finral Roulacase x f! reader ft. the black bulls

TW: Pregnancy

"Are you absolutely sure about this, wifey?" your husband stood before you with the labour stimulator attached to him, "I won't die because of this?"

"Well, this is my second pregnancy now, I'm still well and alive?" you raised a brow at him.

"Do it do it do it!" Luck cheered on from the side.

"Why are we doing this in front of everyone again?" Finral sighed.

"Erm.." you pursed your lips, holding back a smile, "because Yami received my package for me and the next thing I knew the whole base knew I bought them, and they all wanted to see your reaction to it."

"So I'm the guinea pig now?"

"You always have been, Fin!" Vanessa slapped his back, obviously a little inebriated "what are you talking about?"

"Cut the crap." Yami pressed start on the controller than was on your hands.

Everyone stared at Finral, expecting something to happen.

"Is it working?" Noelle looked at the stimulator.

"Yes, it is." Finral rolled his eyes, "it just stings a little."

"It's level 3, and according to the manual, this is where the water bag breaks" you were reading the paper in front of you, "well, at this point you barely feel much."

"go to 10!" Asta exclaimed.

"NO." Finral snapped at him.

"No wait, I want him to feel the slow intensified pain.." you were still reading the manual so you did not notice that all eyes were on you, surprised at your sinister thoughts.

"Wifey.. Do you love me?" Finral pouted a little.

"labour birth is only one part of the hardships of being a mom, don't complain." you retorted.

"I like your wifey," Yami threw a thumbs up at you.

You increased the intensity to 6.

"Ah, it feels like my muscles are cramping a little..." Finral grimaced.

"This is where I'm waiting for dilation."

"How does it feel?" Gordon probed quietly

"It's uncomfortable and you want it out of you asap, but you can't yet. Like constipation." Finral replied, his brows twitching a little as he took a seat near him.

"Heh. I go through that everyday." Yami chuckled, seemingly proud of himself.

"Too much info, sir." Secre shot her captain a deadpanned look.

"Anyway, I felt this for hours during my first pregnancy." you said with a nonchalant expression, as you raised the level to 8.

"Ahh!" Finral jolted in his seat, trying to curl into a ball. He sucked in a deep breath of air through gritted teeth.

"I-is it t-that painful??" Grey asked, covering her eyes with her fingers.

"Y-yeah." Finral could only reply. His hands were clutching on the sides of the chair.

"Go all the way!" Gauche was suddenly interested in the entire ordeal.

"No! Wait!" Finral cried out.

"Yeah, wait." Zora snickered, "let him suffer longer before giving him the Ult."

"I s-swear, you guys.." he could not continue chiding them, he was losing strength.

"Yeah..." you looked at your husband, sweating dripping down his forehead, "this is where it's almost ready to push, but not quite yet.."

"Ugh, get this thing out of me already!" Finral yelled.

"Hey! No yelling," Charmy had her arms akimbo, "I'll make you good food later to replenish your energy."

"Surpass your limits~" you winked at your husband as you pressed level 10.

Finral was on all fours on the floor at this point, his sweat dripping profusely onto the wooden floors.

"Are you a cow?" a voice of distain sounded behind the crowd.

Everyone turned around and saw Nacht appearing from the shadows. Whether he had always been lurking there or he just came, nobody knew.

"Isn't this where you're supposed to push the baby? How are you going to do it on all fours?" His eyes were narrowed, looking unamused at everyone in the room. "tch. Do something right will you guys? For once?"

You couldn't help but laugh at the whole situation.

"It's true, lie down and try pushing like a real woman." you chuckled.

"W-wif- help..." Finral couldn't even speak coherently.

You finally turned the stimulator off, as Finral just laid on the floor with his limps sprawled at every direction.

"At least now you understand the pain," you giggled, "some women bear with this for hours!"

"Wifey.." Finral finally mustered the strength to talk, "you're the best. I promise to do whatever you tell me to~"

-end-

This was so cute! hehe! thanks for the request!!

[leviiattacks]

hi bestie!! pls pretty pls do a levi one where he takes care of a sick y/n im feeling a bit under the weather and im getting kinda scared bc of covid :<< anything to help calm my nerves pls? thank you <3

author note :: get well soon anon :-( i’m super sick rn too (when am i not tho </3) so i get how it is. this isn’t that great because i wrote it pretty quick but i hope it eases youuu :-) this is just pure fluff and sappy stuff and yup yup MODERN LEVI BC... listen i have a soft spot for modern levi word count :: some how i got to 1.4k ????? idk how i always go over the expected word count i have in my head 

it’s literally been YEARS since the last time you were sick

if you really dig through the depths of your memory you’d say maybe you were last sick when you were seven???

it’s that or your memory is just not great

either way, you really do not want to bother anyone with your sickness so you decide to hole up in your room for the entire day

you don’t even tell levi about it because you know he’ll drop everything for the sake of your comfort

the only problem is that midway through the day you’ve become so bedridden you can’t even begin to fathom attending classes tomorrow

you guess you’ll be taking another day off

as that thought crosses your mind your bedroom door bursts open

“i...” levi lets out a long sigh and you look at him dazed from your pounding headache

you’re surrounded by scrunched up tissues and your cold meds have been left untouched

“i’m gonna get you sick too. back away.” you’re frowning and signalling with your hands that you want him out

your nose is stuffy and you’re sniffling but levi just rolls his eyes before he sits next to you on the floor

buried in your duvet you look a little like a burrito and he laughs at that

“do you know where the thermometer is? i’ll check on your fever.”

he’s looking at you waiting for an answer

you think for a second and then you try to rummage through the timeline of today’s events.

to be fair you’re a little disoriented but for some unknown reason you feel yourself get a little teary eyed

maybe it’s a mix of your upcoming deadlines looming over you or perhaps it’s missing a really important class today

but it’s so sudden you don’t even know why your body is making you act so irrationally but that’s what fevers do

“i think i” you sniff and then the waterworks flood out of you. your brain can’t adjust to the severity of your headache and your urge to sleep is higher than ever

honestly you don’t cry very much so to see the tears worries levi almost immediately

“im sorry i misplaced it.” you croak out, your voice is all scaly and weird, you hate it

stupidly you get upset about that too

don’t people sound hot when they’re sick?? why do you sound like an angry bear...?

this is not fair.

“and i’m stressed.” you blow your nose but it continues to drip despite your constant attempts to stop it

nose bright red and hair disheveled levi’s eyes soften when he sees your workbook laying at the foot of your bed

notes are scribbles in random corners and your mind map is a chaotic mess but you’re trying your best given the circumstances

god, even when you’re sick you’re working hard. you’re ridiculous but in the most endearing way known to man

“alright, lay down.” he runs a hand through your hair to fix the birds nest before he adjusts your pillows and places your head down gently

“i’m sorry i’ve lost the-”

levi’s index finger presses against your lips and he shushes you

“get some rest, please.”

you comply but not before giving him a playful glare

his warm palms move to hold your face. cheeks squished together he swipes your tears away

“i’ve got some soup on the stove you’ll be good in no time.” his soft reassurance is comforting and protective

nodding you flutter your eyes shut.

you’re unable to sleep but levi’s presence is enough to ease you even if it’s just a little you do feel better

fifteen minutes pass and levi returns he’s got you a hot cup of tea and the soup is nowhere to be seen

“i had an accident in the kitchen... so have some tea instead.”

you simply laugh it off, he’s trying his best and you’re alright with not having to be fed tomato soup

tomato soup..... it’s sick and twisted it tastes so bad

you recall having to force yourself to down an entire bowl last christmas after catching a cold

never ever again will you do that

anyways, pea soup superiority it’s the only valid type !!!

levi likes tomato soup though that’s the only reason it sits in bulk in one of the kitchen cabinets

he brushes the mountain of tissues on your bedside table away, he’ll dispose of them later

placing the cup of tea where the aforementioned tissues once were you then realize he’s brought you a slice of madeira cake to have alongside it

at this your eyes brighten you love madeira cake it’s so soft and buttery and simple but it’s just REALLY GOOD???

anyway, you definitely recommend everyone to have some it’s a solid 10/10

“picked some up on my way here.”

your heart swells affectionately

no one will ever love you as hard as he does

to be honest, the little things he does keep you grounded and you don’t really know where you’d be without him

he always pays attention to the things you love, always carries you from the couch to your bed, always tucks you in, always lingers a little just to make sure you’re sound asleep

you know about that last bit because on occasion you have stirred awake on accident

every single time he strokes your hair and holds you close ushering you back to sleep

again, you don’t know if it’s your fever making you emotional or the warm feeling of being loved so HARD?? it’s like whack a mole the only difference is being repeatedly hit by bursts of affection

not really a great analogy but your brain is fried right now and it’s the best you’ve got

levi sits next to you making the mattress shift and you then plop your head against his chest

“drink up.”

he hands you the cup of tea but you nuzzle your face into his neck instead forcing him to place it back down

“what are you doing?” he asks.

one of his hands draws circles onto your back soothing you and the other hand is fiddling around with the packaging of your cold meds, he looks to be reading the description just to make sure you can take them

the feeling of his t-shirt under your cheek fades away and you find yourself staring up at him

“get here.” he softly murmurs

rather than pressing a hand against your forehead he swoops down

at first his hands feel your face and neck

“you’re burning up.” he frowns and then he does it

he presses his forehead against yours and you swear you could stop breathing and pass out right then and there

“the fever’s getting worse, why didn’t you call me earlier i had to find out you were sick from-”

“i love you.”

he freezes.

“of course you love me but that’s not what we’re talking about right now.” he snorts and looks you right in the eye.

suddenly you’re kinda just a teeny-weeny bit self-conscious about your dark under eyes but you push that thought to the back of your mind

“no i mean. i really fucking love you levi.” the expletive only makes you sound more serious especially since you always scold him when he uses vulgar language

it looks as if his mouth moves to say it back but you stop him

“you don’t have to say it again. i’m saying it because you said it first.” you explain through your drowsy state

“when did i say it first?”

the fever must be really getting to you is what he’s thinking

“your actions spoke for you.”

he ever so slightly jabs you with his elbow before he carefully places your head back down onto his chest

“you’re so sappy.” he pecks your cheek and you hum silently still unable to breathe out of one of your nostrils

“i know but you’re sappier.”

levi doesn’t respond because he knows you’re correct

:-)

[rumblelibrary]

Hello, it's me again, your friendly neighborhood... Hungarian?!...👀❤️

Can I request a Sebastian Zöllner fic, where he is a coworker of Reader, and there's an obvious sexual tension, attraction in the office, they sit opposite each other, legs touching sometimes, hands touching... Idunno... Things like this 👀🔥 but nothing happened... Yet...🔥🔥

Never an Enemy [Sebastian Zöllner x Fem!Reader]

Word count: 5k

Warnings: A bad mouthed journalist with strong opinions about art and performance that might offend

Author’s note: Did I let this idea simmer in me for ages? Yes. Did I ever stopped thinking about it? NO.

You hummed softly while the music blasted in your headphones as you made your way up the stairs to the headquarters of the Art Tribune, the art focused magazine you worked for since over a year.

You liked the job even if to deal with artists was hard and the pay check could really deserve an improvement, it was stimulating and surely kept you on the edge. That morning in particular you needed to revise some background stories and just loads of reading to do to work on a new article for an upcoming exhibition. Just the usual fact checking, but you just couldn’t do it at home the day before so you decided to come early and enjoy some peace and quiet at the office.

You arrived at the top of the stairs of the fourth floor with a groan, you told yourself you had to do the stairs because you spent 70% of your life sitting in front of a computer, kind of self care, but brutal. You groaned lightly going straight toward the little kitchen installed for the team when you noticed something in the empty shared room full of desks. It was actually a really nice place with big industrial style windows that let lots of light inside, a very smart environment to work in, with areas where you could relax, free Wifi and loads of facilities. Usually people were put in big desks together, facing each other, trying to push a sort of ‘community feeling’.

Inevitably most of the people created barricades with books, and pictures of their dogs or even empty coffee cups. Yes, all cute and artistic, but do not talk to me.

That’s what also the attitude of the man you shared your desk with on your first day. He whined like a child for twenty minutes, complained he was happy to work alone, followed the assistant of the editor around the office and created a barricade of catalogues between the two of you so thick that you wondered if it was also bulletproof, only to rest his elbows over it half an hour asking if you had the change for the vending machine. Yes, that random man was you colleague and friend, Sebastian Zöllner.

The same that you are witnessing now asleep on the desk, head resting on his crossed arms while a stand of saliva went down on his shirt, wild hair and shoes taken off.

He could be considered an attractive man if he wasn’t a bloody nightmare of a person. You actually worked a lot with him and enjoyed his presence most of the days, your characters folded nicely and you would bounce off his attitude. He was strong on biographies and annoying the shit out of others, so he was always nagging at someone, you included.

You smirked slowly tracing his hair with your fingers, he never looked so innocent and you were always surprised to learn how those messy hair were so soft. It wasn’t the first time you did that gesture, sometimes he did lean his head like this only to be touched like an annoying mewling cat that needs attentions. “Kaffee” He mumbled making you chuckle, such a an annoying brat and he didn’t even open his eyes.

You carried on walking to the little kitchen room to prepare some coffee for you and your desk partner. You shook your head aimlessly as you started wondering why the man is here at this hour and if it was really a good idea to wake him up. To have him awake means to be able to do little to zero.

You watched the coffee get ready, the comforting tune of your morning playlist getting you still on the good side of your mood as you poured the coffee in your mug.

Then you saw it, an arm sneaking in front of you and taking the mug from your hand, you jump scared in a second almost pouring the rest of the coffee on the whole kitchen counter only to encounter Sebastian sleepy figure behind you bringing the mug close to his nose and inhaling deeply the aroma before having a gulp, you stared at him as his jaw clenched, his eyes got a bit teary. “Fucking hot” he whined making you chuckle, he deserved it for stealing it, luckily you were already doing some more for him so he stole your favourite mug but you had some coffee for you left.

You pulled off your headphones leaning them on your neck “No idea you’d be sleeping at the office, weren’t you off on some interview ?”

He shrugged “yeah, well me neither, but interviewing sculptors is always annoying as shit and those are always supersensitive” he said opening the freezer and pulling out some ice cubes from their box and putting them in the coffee mug. “Scheiße!” He cursed as the ice cube landing in the mug caused the coffee to spill onto his white shirt. You pressed your lips tight against each other not to laugh into his face, but he was already pissed off and it wasn’t even proper work time. You watched him lean over the sink trying to wash it off somehow without even bothering to take it off, just adding chaos on chaos.

“Y/N! Do not laugh and try to help me! Beside, the heck are you doing here at this hour?” You rolled your eyes at that comment, but you didn’t indulge him in that request.

“I was just looking for silence”

He nodded like he didn’t believe a single word of it, he was just an asshole and you had to deal with it like it or not. You almost hated how he was so freaking good at writing and that’s probably why many people indulged him. Even you knew his pieces on the magazine and didn’t expect to find out he was so…so Sebastian.

You let out a breathy chuckle taking your mug and making your way to your joined desk letting him wrestle his balance over the kitchen sink trying to get the stain wet and not shower himself in the meanwhile.

You sat down at your spot leaning the mug on side, hands covering your face trying to keep a clear mind letting out a big breath “okay, let’s do this”

You turned on the lamplight on your desk pulling out your laptop from your backpack. As the computer was ‘waking up’ you stared at Sebastian side of the desk compared to yours.

You had like a little citadel of books around you, but it was pretty neat, a little succulent gifted by your friend for your first day at work with the name tag ‘Danny’ on it sitting beside the lamp, lots of pencils and pens of different colours and notebooks to no end. If you had something in common with that beast of a man was that you both still relied on paper for sketching ideas and write down impressions in the moment, then onto the typing.

His side, however, was like a contemporary artwork in itself. Half empty cigarettes packages everywhere, the ashtray filled up, paper inside books and books filled with more papers. Notes everywhere, the damn king of neon yellow post-its, stains of coffee and crumbles of food invert corner, his red laptop showing off like a punch in the eye and his satchel bag always hang or thrown around.

You often wondered if the cleaning stuff just gave up on him. Your lucky guess was that he would probably throw a fit if anything was moved, so everyone just played the blind eye.

He was good at throwing fits.

You watched him come back sitting in front of you, half of his shirt soaked in the attempt to clean it up, he licked his lips picking one empty package of cigarettes looking in it and throwing it away until he found one with still something in it and he lighted his cigarette as he turned on his laptop. You sighed opening the window to let the fresh air not getting you intoxicated.

You went back to sip your coffee and stare at the screen quietly, every now and then your eyes falling onto the little cloud of smoke in front of you.

Sebastian was an attractive man, that was undeniable and you were sure that made him also a successful interviewer even though he was so random and chaotic, when he was silent and collected in thoughts he was indeed a sight to be seen. The dark hair framing his face like he was some cherub, his deep eyes staring into the void of his own words as he typed. He had a sort of decadent look on him.

Slowly the office begun to get filled, people coming here and there to tease Seb about coming early and he just waving his cigarette around asking for silence.

“Zöllner””

The chief editor shouted getting into his office without even turning around. Seb rolled his eyes looking at you as he pushed the cigarette in the ashtray waving his hand around to dissipate the smoke around him before standing up.

“I wonder how he managed to survive few days without shouting my name” he smirked.

You looked at him and mimicked his smirk.

What a chaotic man.

You had finished your reading by then and started to make a first draft of the article you were meant to work on.

“Y/N!!!” Sebastian voice rang through the office making you jump on your seat and he gestured at you to go with him with a big wave of his arm.

You looked at your screen with an helpless sigh, it seems like you will not write that article anytime soon, you’d better just have slept an hour more.

You stood up following that incessant wave as Seb put his hand on your back to get you in a bit quicker.

“Good morning”

You said as the chief editor nodded quietly “Look Y/N, it is a big favour I have to ask you” he begun frankly as you were beginning to get worried “you did your time with silly articles, so I thought it could be interesting to pair you up with Sebastian to go to tonight’s exhibition of Evita Schnecke”

Your eyes went wide as you looked at Sebastian shrug his shoulders.

“I need somebody to keep the horse with tight rains” Mr Megelbach continued gesturing with his pen at Sebastian and then at you “and you will dip your toes in those big time artists environment, but we really need to make sure Sebastian won’t hurt anyone’s sensibility, her interview has been obtained with lots of hard work”

“Yeah, we all know that hard work” Sebastian whispered in your ear earning a glare from Mr Megelbach who handed you a couple of catalogues from that artist and the invitation.

“So, put on hold your current article for today, make a plan with this train wreck and please make sure he doesn’t show up dressed like that”

“That was unneeded”

“All precautions are always needed with you, and now get out of my office the both of you”

You nodded moving out of the office, you were a bit anxious. Those artists were unpredictable just as Sebastian.

You made your way back to your desk with him as you sat down looking at the invitation. “So, it begins at 9 pm” you said almost understanding why Sebastian shouldn’t be allowed to go unescorted because the invitation on the dress code had: Wear something that talks about your soul. Only that could bring Sebastian to have an aneurism.

“I hate that bitch”

“Seb, that’s not a good start for an article”

He smirked as you said so but shrugged

“I mean it, this woman was born into privilege, she portrayed herself to be this underground rebel, but her simple black dress was a Chanel and her everyday boot Balenciaga, so I don’t trust her for a reason”

You smirked as you could agree with that and showed him the two catalogues the boss gave you

“Choose your fighter”

He groaned so loud he could have stabbed his toe and he leaned over his side of the desk picking one from your hand giving a light pinch on your side “teacher’s pet”. You chuckled softly as he always said that.

“Tell me if you read something that it is not about the performer’s way of life” he mumbled opening it in front of him.

You begun your reading and it was indeed the hell pit of a vey spoiled kid who was told to be the greatest since the first day of life, you picked your notebook and opened it taking notes on things that you could ask about.

Sebastian in the meanwhile lighted up another cigarette rolling it between his fingers mindlessly, his eyes looking above the paper at you every now and then among the little curses in German about the stupid things written there.

After some time it was becoming really a torture to read and you leaned your back on your chair stretching your legs forward for Seb to catch one of them among his.

You smirked as you often joked to him he was like some bear trap with those legs always catching yours.

He put his hand under the table bringing your leg up onto his thigh as you shifted even lower on your seat, his hand touching your ankle mindlessly as he had a talent for little massages like that. He did it the first time a while aback, a summer day where it was so hot and humid that you couldn’t feel your own legs.

So it became a little ritual among the two of you. You had many of those rituals, it was like an unspoken collection of attentions. Like you making the coffee in the morning because he was a grumpy ass. Or him always buying you some chewing gum or little treat when he went to buy cigarettes.

“I guess I am not the only one that needs a restyle”

He said bringing you away by the tenderness those little actions brought to you when he pushed his finger in your Vans shoe deepening a hole that you were trying to ignore from months.

“Seb, don’t do it, I wanted to make them last another season”

“Another season? These can’t last the end of the month, no doubt why your sex life is a train wreck”

You frowned at him taking your ankle off his hand to push on his chair making him roll back thanks to the little wheels underneath it, but he held on the desk and pulled himself closer again.

“What do you even know about it”

He looked at you, eyebrows raising up on his forehead

“Y/N, if I was your boyfriend I wouldn’t allow you to leave the bed that early in the morning to go to the office and that’s a fact”

“Oh, and how on heaven could you detain my passion for this job?” “Well, I can write you a list about it, you can consider it a to do list on your next date” His smirk was so wide, he enjoyed to tease you like that, the bastard, he knew to be an hottie and he always acted like half of the world was up to fuck with him.

“Oh please, do it, I want to see”

You teased him and he leaned in elbows on the table staring at you.

Oh the sexual tension with him was too much, you always went down on this hurricane of remarks, always him mentioning how you need more orgasms or implying it, or even implying how good he is at giving them.

“But be careful, because any act should be performed and not only lived”

You said quoting the artist you were reading about and he whined so hard like you really stomped your foot on his balls.

“Horrid witch”

“Me?” “No, that one”

He huffed and puffed picking another cigarette. Sometimes cigarettes just died on his fingers as he forgot to actually enjoy them more than waving them around.

The artist herself wasn’t remarkable, she used themes seen over and over before, she had a background as performer/dancer and she added painting to that, but more than talent she had an amazing marketing squad. You read her story and her commentaries about living like in a poem, which always sounds pretty easy with a big bank account.

You did all you could to stay neutral even if Seb was going down to massacre the woman, you two shared a bundle of two sandwiches (or better say, your brought a package of two and he was skipping his lunch so you just handed it to him) until you decided to get parted and go get ready at home.

That evening you were waiting for him in front of your apartment, when a taxi stopped in front of you and his figure appeared waving at you to come in on the back. His eyes widened in surprise “Well, well, well, look who got all fancy here”

He smirked as his eyes travelled on you shamelessly, the dress was actually one of those you brought ages ago and never used, also to wear heels felt like new, last time you went to a fancy event almost hard to recollect.

“Just move and let me in”

You said chuckling as you looked at him being so elegant when you noticed it, the price tag on his shirt.

“Seb, did you just buy this shirt?”

“Yes, and I am going to take it back tomorrow”

You looked at him puzzled

“What?” He groaned “I suck at ironing stuff”

You looked at him as a little laugh escaped your lips as he told you not to, but it was too late for that, you shifted closer to him anyway helping him to hide that price tag better behind his neck. Nevertheless the white shirt was really fancy and fitted him perfectly.

As you arrived in front of the gallery you sighed and made your way inside.

The place wasn’t crowded but few eyes turned as you got in.

“Would you like some champagne?” A waiter asked and Seb picked two flutes immediately downing one in a gulp on his own as the other was still in his other hand, he put the empty glass on the tray and then picked a third one handing it to you.

“Drink Y/N or you won’t make it to the end of the evening”

You smirked as he was always over dramatic, but indeed the evening seemed to be made for posh people to show off how cool they are.

You spotted the artist pretty quickly wearing a Valentino bright red dress, she surely had the dancer figure and gestures which gave her some kind of an edge.

"She is all yours"

You looked at Sebastian already half way through his drink, giving you that cheshire cat smirk.

"Are you sure?"

"You know I will insult her in a second if she names her dancing background one more time, I saw the videos, she looked like a three ready to collapse on the ground" he chuckled as you smirked shaking your head at his metaphor, but he is probably right, he is too much biased.

"I didn't notice the open back before" he said referring to your dress as he caressed over your skin with his fingertips making goosebumps raise up your spine.

"What? Am I too sexy for your own good?"

"Probably" he commented not losing a beat to answer you. You were taken aback from a moment, his eyes still down on his hand touching your back before raising up to find yours.

Then he took his hand away and pressed the cold champagne glass against it making you hiss "Now go, I'll check this bourgeois art"

You frowned but you just moved away from him. He always did it, he teased you and then made it a joke. You gave it back to him too, it was your relationship, that's how you balanced it.

"Good evening " you said to her with a smile holding your glass in your left hand before offering your right hand to her "I am Y/N, from the Art Tribune"

She went from neutral to smiling in a second

"Oh, I was waiting to meet you" she said leaning to kiss your cheek, surely she was a woman with charm, with a degree of boldness that made her charming and also, you noticed, extremely touchy-feely with everyone.

"We can define this a sort of retrospective of your previous works, I liked to see the evolution of it" you lied, because you just saw the catalogue.

But that was fair enough to have her go on about her, guess what? Past as a dancer, about how she needed to express herself, how she was her own muse and all the stuff you already read.

"What is next for you then?"

"I want to follow my dream, I have always wanted to found a space with my name where people could rent the rooms to perform dances and arts"

You stared at her. For real? Like there weren't other hundreds in the whole city?

"What will keep you apart from all the others that did this before you?"

"Nobody is me" she smirked like it was clear and obvious.

You asked few more questions, but you were sad to admit Sebastian was right. There wasn't art there, there was just profit, selling a name, a brand.

This saddened you because you met many artists that had less than a chance to make it but double the talent of Miss Valentino Dress.

"Y/N" Sebastian warm hand was on your back as you were downing the last bit of champagne "Come, come ,come quick" he said pushing you away as the artist clearly recognised him but he dismissed her with some insult or whatever he just mumbled.

"Seb, I was working, what the hell?"

"Elke is here"

You still didn't understand, you were puzzled as the reason of that anxiety was still unknown to you.

"Like your girlfriend Elke?"

"Put an ex in front of it" he said looking around frantically

"Oh, I am sorry, I didn't know"

"No, me neither, I thought she was just bashing around, she always did" his arm sneaked around your waist pulling you closer "please, act sexy for once"

You were one second from hitting his guts with your elbow when Elke herself approached.

"Oh, I didn't expect to see you here" she said waving her glass around

"Yeah, well I work for an important Art journal if you remember"

"How could I forget?" she groaned looking at you then as Sebastian's hand rested onto your hip. Really? Was he acting like you were his date?

"Hi, I am Y/N"

You said politely to her and she chuckled "Run when you can, this man is a leech and you don't even know it"

She mentioned it almost casually, but you could feel all the poison implied on your skin, Sebastian's hand giving you a soft squeeze, you had never seen him like this before. He looked like a dog that just got kicked, his back hunched over you lightly both trying to protect you and for protection.

"Well, thank you for your advice, I must be a real torment too because we actually have lot of fun together, I like his unpredictability"

You said it from your heart, you didn't want to insult her or anything, but you felt bad for him. Even if he probably deserved it, to be humiliated like this must be hard in any circumstance, in particular in a place where he is supposed to work and being known.

He looked at you a bit surprised, he leaned slowly pressing a kiss on your temple and you smiled because of that gesture so enveloped in that feeling of tenderness.

"Your shot" Elke said clearly a bit annoyed that you as she just moved along followed by a man that must be her date.

"Lets go out"

You suggested as Seb nodded and just followed for once, he held your hand as you guided him and for once he wasn't talking or commenting anything.

As you went out he sat down on the sidewalk pulling out his package of cigarettes taking out one immediately.

"Hey stand up" you said to him as he looked up at you and you snatched that cigarette off his lips "let's go away"

"Where? Don't we have to stay until she gets naked to dance?"

You smirked "No, we have all the material we need"

You took his cigarette away offering him your hand as he picked it and you guided him.

He was silent, which is rare, when he was silent it meant he was upset in some way, he always had a nice comeback line for everything usually.

His head leaned on side like a scolded child as he slowly laced your fingers together.

You walked across few streets, your heels clicking on the cement until you made it to your final location pulling him inside.

"Constatinopole?"

Seb asked looking at the sign, it was a kebab place, your favourite by the way.

"I am hungry" you just said making him lower his head and smile like a kid with cue breathy chuckles.

You ordered for the two of you as he went to sat down putting another cigarette between his lips when the man behind the counter glared at him and he just put it back in the package.

He sat down slouching as you did some small talks with the guys there, you clearly knew them. The soft music from the radio holding the place into a sort of magical aura as his eyes travelled over your naked back once more, the need for a cigarette becoming even more urgent.

You two dressed so elegantly really were so noticeable in the bright lightend place, he smiled to himself thinking it could be a nice painting by Hopper.

You came back offering him his kebab with a soft drink, very thoughtful because he was indeed already a bit high on champagne.

You ate quietly together, it wasn't uncomfortable, your silences were happening often at work and always filled with a sense of common understanding, you leaned your leg up like you always did at the office and rested it on his thigh as you sat sideways beside him. His hand flying naturally on your ankle to give his usual massage, his thumb tracing your skin with imaginary patterns as his other hand held the kebab close to his mouth.

The speaker at the radio announcing next song as Rocket Man by Elton John filled the room with a melancholic vibe. You couldn't help but think the song suited perfectly Sebastian, his being out of this word, out of control.

"Thank you" he said at some point as he tried his best not to ruin his shirt, you looked up at him as he was staring, his eyes telling you something on their own "You have been the best girlfriend I have ever had"

He added with a bitter smile diverting once more his gaze, you smiled back at him, he looked so resigned. Maybe it was the alcohol, but you have never seen him so fragile before.

"I could be"

His eyes darted up to you, his surprise evident as he put down the kebab, the soothing voice of the British singer still giving a dream edge to the moment as he moved closer. You slowly shifted your leg to give him room of movement as his right arm sneaked to rest on the back of your chair closing the space between the two of you.

His lips tasted still a bit of champagne as he pressed them against yours, you kissed him back slowly as his left hand travelled on your thigh pulling you closer to him probably staining your dress because of his greasy hand.

He pulled back almost immediately before leaning onto you again titling his head on the other side. This second time the kiss was more deep, more intense. Your hands slowly cradling his face before pulling back yourself.

He smiled against your lips and you smiled back.

Maybe tomorrow you will regret it like Elke said, maybe not.

Tagged @cazzyimagines @lieutenantn @handmaiden-of-mischief@thesunflowersutra @zemomybeloved@fictionlandslanddreams@charistory @greeneyedblondie44@apparrio @hb8301@whatawildone @rhymerhymerhyme  @thehuiabird @lilith-blackrose @unbeatablecurlgirl@obsidianlaszlo@alindeluce@zemosimp05 @baronesszemo-blackwood @nocapesdahlingLet me know if you want to get tagged to my publications too <3